Splinter

It was a dream. A memory? Maybe. A smudge within several lifetimes in a seemingly endless existence, a steppingstone, and all he could do was watch in detachment, albeit feeling the sensations as if it were then and now.



He was transported back to a night, in the demon-possession’s consciousness. It had started as a normal hunt, an everyday lesson free from the women, nevertheless …



Angelus knew -on some level- that he was hurting him, pushing in too soon, plunging deep, hard, yet didn’t stop. It enthralled him even more. The scent of blood, the sounds of keening as muscles tightened around his cock, the sensations they all produced went straight to Angelus’ head. His body reacted while his mind was still processing exactly how they were taken prisoner by lust after they sated their hunger. One minute they were sharing a meal and the next his fangs were gum-deep in pale flesh, his knees bent behind fledgling William –he refused to call him Spike- holding onto slim hips that had first arced up in shock then further back to meet his thrusts.



Instinct took hold. He could not have enough, could never be fully sated. He thought that taste would give him even more rein over the uncontrollable urge, that he would stop obsessing for it was fully his. He was wrong.



All too soon, Angelus was lost in ecstasy far exceeding the many others he had delighted in. Never had he felt such a rush. He licked at the dripping shoulder and pushed even deeper inside. Friction induced heat tensed more around him, causing him to bite his bottom lip and to drop his head on the quivering lean back, tips of his hair tickled the bare column flesh. William knew to dare not speak, even when both vampires were heaving breathes of need that their body had given up on. Raising his head, Angelus shook his long hair over his shoulders. He found his rhythm once again, pumping steadily against William’s buttocks, driving himself deeper with every well-aimed thrust, chafing more and more against a soft nub. His movements only increased when William moaned hanging his head between his arms, pushing back against Angelus’ body wanting more. Something Angelus had readily given.



Again and again.



Harder and faster.



The smell of blood; human, vampire, the scent of the silent night, the tastes and sensations, intensified.



He was coming, felt blood being pulled from every direction, his fingers were left tingling in its wake, his fangs compensating by slipping once more into supple skin, and pulling. The beating of the young vampire’s muscles around his pulsing length -as he too found his release- milked his dead seed even more, intensifying and prolonging the shudders that befell his body.



Then soon enough, all that was left were gulping pants filling the thick air as they collapsed, tilting to the left, falling boneless slightly over the forgotten drained body of their last victim. Angelus rested his head on William’s shoulders and closed his eyes. One thing came clearly to the dominating demon…



Mine.



Eyes slowly cracking open, Angel gazed silently at his ceiling as his senses woke up. He placed his hands under his head and gathered his thoughts. He was completely calm as he came back to the present and was completely calm as he made up his mind. If he had any chance of ever getting Angelus out of his time of rest permanently, he had to settle this matter with Spike so that his subconscious would not be weakened by the distraction. Angel didn’t feel that there was anything to clarify but unless he wanted Cordelia to hound him day and night, he had to play their game.



Angel stood up and pulled out his bedside drawer, a scrap of pink paper lay against the wood. Even better, he would take Gunn’s advice and talk to Spike before the gathering. That way, he would settle this once and for all. Perhaps even do some good PR with the expected assortment of vampires and demons afterwards. There was a plus to it as well. He would arrive at the party, radiating confidence and good will, in the same room with his childe, doing the right thing. Also, at the same time he would be putting a chink in Hrafen’s precise plans and prospect, because Angel had no doubt the other vampire had socially extended the invitation but did not expect Angel to make an appearance.



He fell back on the bed, more relaxed than he had felt in weeks. He was even confident that he would finally have a restful nap. With a grimace, he raised his hand in front of his face. However, changing the sheets first would be better.







*~*~*~*~*~*







Cordelia was upset when she found out that not only had her secret plan to ‘chaperon’ the boys failed because Spike didn’t invite her, but according to Lorne, Xander was going. Cordelia Chase was pissed.



“I can’t believe he’s taking Xander,” was said in a grumbled huff.



Fred bit back a giggle. “Why not? Xander seems nice. You like him.”



Cordelia looked at her as if to say the reason was obvious. “Sure, I like Xan. I mean, c’mon, even if the geek king is still inside, the outside is… really hot! But…” She looked miffed. “I take Spike with me to primers and A-celeb parties and I find out last minute that my bo--- uh, Xander is his date?” She crossed her arms huffily.



Wesley raised his eyes from the book he was reading. He had just parted with Willow, where she had presented some excellent proposals for the coming Treaty, binding the contract by magic so that there wouldn’t be any breaching of contract from either side AKA the vampires and whatever demon clan chose to join. Wesley had readily provided the witch with answers to the essentials and details of the matter, but he was reserved concerning the delicacy of Spike versus Angel and Hrafen. Although, he was sure that if anyone would figure it out, it would be Willow. That or Cordelia would broadcast it. However, as Spike had privately confided in him, Wesley believed it wasn’t his choice to divulge something personal, no matter what Cordelia insisted on. He had intended to share with the group the recent discussion when Cordelia somehow dragged everyone to his office, but it seemed that she had lost focus of what was imperative.



“Cordelia, are you suggesting that Spike forgo the tactic of bringing a watcher…” The association of that word with Xander Harris continued to leave a strange taste in Wesley’s mouth. He wondered if Spike would even present Xander as such. He snorted silently. “And instead bring you, as a date?” Wesley raised his eyebrows. “You do realize that Raven –whom you are rather open to badmouthing- is going to be there? As well as Angel, whom you’ve so ‘diligently’ convinced to go,” he said conversantly as he hid a smirk. He knew his friend all too well.



Cordelia flopped down between Lorne and Fred who were sitting on Wesley’s couch. “It would’ve been nice to be asked.” She pouted. She suddenly had a faraway look. “Hot British blond rockers are so out, besides, Spike would be busy giving Angel happies…” Her eyes glazed over at that thought before she continued, “Hip-hop is in, I wonder if Gunn…”



Lorne snickered by her left, causing her to turn and look at him questioningly. “Not that I wouldn’t love to see Charles take on the role, script in hand, of your new boy-toy, what about your current bo’?”



Cordelia blinked for a few seconds before Fred’s whispered, “Xander,” got her back on track.



“Xander!” She laughed hysterically. There were some bits of denial thrown there clear for all to see and sigh at the ridiculousness. “No way--- the way he dresses even now and the--- hmm, you know.” Cordelia looked intrigued. “Pirates are in…”



Fred finally joined in to ask, “Where are Xander and Gunn?” She would do anything to stop where Cordelia’s mind was wandering. She loved her friend, but even Fred had limits.



“It’s game night at Blondie Bear’s.”



Everyone’s attention snapped to Harmony who had apparently let herself in unbeknown to the people in the room. The blonde vampire looked at Cordelia, whispering in hushed tones, “The bird flew the coop.”



“Huh?” the group said as one.



Harmony rolled her eyes. “Elvis has left the building.”



Lorne’s eyes looked wild. “But, but, the King was scheduled him for next week!” he sputtered reaching for the inside of his coat. “Danny has some explaining to do.”



“Ugh!” Harmony threw her hands up, exasperated. “Gunn told Angel that he should talk with Spike before the party at Spikie’s stinky place because they’ll be playing some stupid game!” And people called her dumb.



Cordelia jumped up wide-eyed. “Gunn did what?!” She groaned. Did no one get the plan? “Oh, no, Spike, Xander AND Angel in one room… and with luck, Mr. I Can Claim Whoever I Want would be there. Why do men think they can… think?” She fell back down. “Hope Gunn gets caught in the middle of it,” she said pettily. The only way for Angel and Spike to act with some semblance of civility was for them to be in public. The last time they were in a small space …



Fred patted Cordelia and brought her out of her daze. “Hey, Cordy, you don’t know. Things could work out.”



Wesley laid down his book. There was no sense of pretending that he was reading anymore. “That’s interesting; I had no idea that Angel knew where Spike lived.”



Cordelia perked up. “You know what, there is still hope!” She grinned at Harmony.



Harmony gave her a sickly smile. Perhaps it wasn’t the right time to mention that Angel had no idea where Spike lived, and that Gunn was the one who told him. It might give her a bit of peace and quiet for a while. She returned the grin full blown. Yes, things were looking up.







*~*~*~*~*~*







Angel scrunched his nose as he walked down the shabby hall. He looked down at the paper that Gunn had jotted down the address on. It was the right place. He still couldn't believe that Spike was living here. Apparently, it was the same apartment Lindsey had given Spike when he had tricked the younger vampire into believing he was on some kind of mission. That was before Cordelia awoke and brought the Fake Doyle and Eve out into the open. Then Gunn had made a deal with The Senior Partners where they handed them the conspiring two in return of complete ownership of Wolfram and Hart's L.A. branch now known as the new Angel Investigations and Cooperation. They had all worked together like old time, Spike included, and for a change, the good had won- with profit.



Angel sidestepped something that was lying flat on the dirty wooden floor, he didn’t dare to investigate what it was.



Why did Spike continue to live in this place? Angel dimly recalled hearing the girls talking about men and their oversized ego and how Spike was their Poster Boy; not accept any 'charity' from them. That it wasn't their job to provide for him ‘like an infant’, they sarcastically mimicked Spike. Angel felt a stab of guilt as that. It perhaps wasn't their job but it sure was Angel's. Or had been his before...



Maybe as the boss, he should have paid Spike. Cordelia had hinted to that subject enough times in her tactful way reminiscent of what she had done in regards to Gunn working with them. It seemed like so long ago. But Angel knew that Spike would see that act as pity. And yet, he knew deep down that he could have brought it about in a different way. Matter was… he didn’t, things weren’t right.



He hated thinking about it. Something so simple but…



Angel wasn't only Spike's grandsire but also the Master of their Order, by default. It was in his job description to care for the clan, at least the last surviving rightful party.



Angel felt his undead heart clench at the thought of Drusilla. He still couldn't believe that he didn't sense her passing. The old vampire could still recall Spike's grief upon knowing the extent of his ignorance.







*Flashback*







"God damn it, Angel. I know what I'm doing, burned to saved the bloody world, didn't I?"



"You just stood there…"



Growl of frustration as Spike flung his arms in the air. "Why won't you trust me still? After Dru, I thought we’d…"



"What?" Angel interrupted him with a start.



Spike actually had a worried expression on his face. "Angel. Denying is the worst thing you could do, makes you bottle up or some psycho-babble thing. My Dark Princess wouldn't want that. I haven’t mentioned it, since you haven't said anything then. I thought you needed time to get it through your thick scull, get some grasp of it."



"Of what?"



Spike placed his hand on Angel's shoulder and looked in his eyes, concerned. "It's ok, mate. I took it hard at first, not wanting to believe it, but I had to. I felt it, so did you. Now let it out.” He dug his fingers deep when Angel tried to shrug him off. “ Just say after me - I know it's hard but Green Jeans was right, it helps, bugger squeezed it out of a song but the result was the same, now just say it. Dru. Is. Dead," his voice hitched a bit at the last word but he held strong.



Angel pulled back, shocked. "What?!"



Spike frowned. He opened his mouth. His eyes then widened as he realized what Angel's reaction could only mean. "Fuck! You didn't?!" He shook his head not believing, not wanting to believe. "Bastard! After all you had done to her. The least you could've done…"



"I didn't…" Angel tried to explain but didn't know how. It wasn’t simple to explain that it was easier said than done to keep sensing their family while he had a soul. Because, obviously, Spike still did, or was able to, since now it seemed that they, Spike and Angel, Angelus and William the Bloody, were the only ones left.



Spike was pacing back and forth. He stopped and turned to look into Angel’s eyes, his cerulean ones conveying more than Angel wanted to think about. He still could not wholly grasp Spike and his new soul, it threw him off, the unpredictability of his reactions and emotiveness they…



"What about me?" was whispered softly, the hint of apprehension evident.



Angel tried to hold his gaze but the guilt on his shoulders forced him to lower his eyes.



He felt more than saw Spike pulling away from him, horrified. "Luke, The-beyond-the-pale Master, Darla, Penn, Elisabeth, James. You were there for their final death, had a hand in them all, that's how you knew.” He shook his head, all the pieces falling in place. “But, Dru, *me*… someone had to effin' give you notice!"



“Maybe Drusilla’s note got lost in the post.” Spike laughed a somewhat mad giggle. "You had two chances with Darla to bear witness. Hey, you missed my first… wonder if you're gonna be there for the second. Perhaps with a wooden stake ready, hmm?"



Angel had stood still through it all. An unmoving figure in the middle of his -in every respect- owned -no Senior Partners in the final print- new office. This was the gold that he had fought for, suffered for all these years. A world scale affect. A reason for all the sacrifices, Buffy, Doyle, Connor…



"Fuck!" A loud exclamation caused Angel to raise his head. He watched as the blond dropped his hands to the side exasperated, tired. "I don’t know why I fucking bother!" A hand pointed at Angel angrily. "You're gonna end up alone… is that what you want?"



Angel's eyes narrowed angrily. "You know, I did regret not being there to see you turn to dust… so I can scatter it, making sure you won't be back to annoy my life! You speak of being alone?" He laughed arrogantly. "Please, Spike! Look at yourself, always after my scraps… following my shadow like a lost little pathetic homeless pup… always about me, no one wanting you. So don't talk to me about ending up alone… coz Willy ol' boy, you're already there! Always will be."







*Flashback*







Angel winced. It had gone down hill from then. Back and forth, it escalated so much that they didn’t even squabble over silly matters. It even affected everyone around them, and somehow Angel got the most heat.



Not that he was throwing away the blame. He hated how he had acted like a child becoming defensive and downright mean when someone threw the bitter sad truth at his face. It just happened that way mostly, if not always, if the sender-slash-receiver was Spike.



As he walked the grayish halls he passed a boy snatching a little girl's doll out of her hands before breaking it then hitting her over the head with it. His head turned, still observing them for some reason, as he was walking away and saw the little girl's blue eyes widen and well up with tears but she didn't cry. She picked up her toy, gave the boy one last look before she ran to an open door of a neighboring apartment and slammed the door shut. Angel saw the boy bend down and pick up a plastic leg. That was when he stopped, turned fully around and observed.



The boy had a sad look on his face. He kept looking at the leg, his eyes somewhat lost. As by a sudden revelation, he went inside what Angel assumed was his residence. Angel waited for a few seconds, and the boy came out, his face considerably brighter. The little boy ran to the apartment next-door, same as the girl before. He knocked and waited.



A moment passed before the door was opened in a small crack. The girl's blonde head popped out. She still had the betrayed look on her face but held a curious one as well. The boy grinned and showed her what he held behind his back. In one hand was the leg, the other a small bottle of glue and some tape. The girl blinked and pulled out her arm, her hand still held on tightly to the doll. She looked at the boy worriedly before with unsure hands, she presented him with the doll. The boy took it with eager hands and quickly proceeded in gluing it back together, then twirling the tape haphazardly around it, which took less than fifteen seconds. He subsequently gave it back to the girl with a smile.



"Sorry, Libby."



The girl, Libby, checked her doll carefully and the leg seemed to stay on, even if it wobbled a bit. She looked back. But before she could speak he pulled out something Angel couldn’t define from his angle.



“You said you wanted one like it.” He gave the small object to the girl. He repeated, “Sorry.”



Libby narrowed her eyes at what she now held then looked at the boy with such firmness for a girl her age in her eyes. "It's okay, just don't do it again."



The boy shook his head in concurrence eagerly.



She grinned and her blue eyes brightened. "K. Wanna come in and play? Momma got us a new joystick for charismas."



"Yeah!" And the door closed behind the two children.



Angel blinked. Why was this so familiar in some level? He knew there was something to be learned from this, from two six-year-olds. But was it that easy? There was one way to find out. With surer steps, he continued down his path.







*~*~*~*~*~*







Angel could hear Xander’s enthusiastic tones clearly through the thin wood of the door. The boy was explaining how he kicked Gunn’s ass in the video game, Angel wondered if Harris wouldn’t be better suited with the children he had just passed. He grinned when Spike’s voice came through as he apparently waved off Xander’s victory, saying, “Charlie was off in his game, kept checking his watch. Something fuzzed his concentration.”



“You’re just making excuses. I’m the king of Need for Speed!!” The boy crowed in triumph. “Hey. You got Spiderman?"



Spike scoffed. “I draw the line at playing a human-spider-hybrid.”



“Spiderman is not a hybrid,” Xander sounded insulted at the mere reference. “He got bit by a radioactive spid---”



He was cut off by Spike’s loud groan. “Great, amazing, you can geek out with Charlie-boy later, he’s a buff in the whole funnies too.”



“It’s called Comics, Dweeb.” Then he perked up. “I wonder if he has the rare editions to Daredevil or oh, Batman! Man…”



Angel blanked out the rest. He imagined Spike was doing the same since there was a sound of a fridge door being shut, and smirked. He and Spike may not share many things -he overlooked the list of parallels that had ‘somehow’ found itself on his desk which he adamantly did not read- one of them he was sure was the hate of Xander Harris.



Though that didn’t explain what the boy was doing there. A fleeting thought passed about it being a boy’s night in, recalling something Gunn had said before it was wiped away.



Something was definitely up.



Angel had recently caught Willow in Wesley’s office passionately discussing something. He didn’t catch much other than the raised tones since the two stopped talking the instant he walked into the room. One guess on what they were talking about.



~ He actually let Sunnydale in. He’s not backing down. ~ Angel’s temple creased. It was now or never…



His hand was an inch from the door, when even through the raising loud voices from inside, he heard a woman scream for help in the distance, the cry for help wafting down the stairs to the basement. It took a moment of hesitation before he sprinted into a purposeful run.



The mission: that was what it all came down to.







*~*~*~*~*~*







Inside the apartment, the raised voices continued oblivious…





"No!"



"Stop.” Spike raised his hand as he pinched his nose. “I told you about how presentation is imperative, represents what you are. You didn't bring any fancy digs with you. You want to be a presentable 'watcher' that deserves respect," he tried reasonable tones since yelling didn’t seem to convince the irritating human. “Right?”



"I'm not getting a dress up from ‘Vamp Eye for the One Eyed Guy’." Xander pointed at his foot. “This foot is down and that’s how it’s staying, mister.”



"Bloody poof. You know I'm only doing this ‘cause the bints would poke me a new one if I left you to mope on your own." Spike threw his beer bottle behind his back where it fell with great precision into a trashcan, glass breaking.



Xander wasn’t impressed. Or at least he wasn’t showing it. "Hello. It was my decision to stay, remember?" He gestured to Spike. “You’re the one who insisted I tag along!”



"And you're making your point how?"



“Meaning I get to wear what I want to wear and I think this is a good look for me.” The argument had sounded better in his head, but Xander was one who stuck by his conviction, whatever that might be.



Spike raised his eyebrow and looked Xander over, up and down. The brunet, to the vampire’s amusement, pulled himself higher at the scrutiny, stretching the same plain bluish shirt with worn-out black suit pants that Spike had commented on earlier, tactfully asking Xander to make haste in getting his change of clothes from his rental parked outside. It was soon clarified by the fashion impaired youth that there were no such items waiting for him outside. He had a taxi drop him off. And that there was nothing wrong with what he was wearing.



“Don’t know how you could’ve slipped by Her Highness wearing those rags,” the words had come out instinctively, even if it had negated reality. Spike had abruptly told to the boy the day before that Cordelia must not know of Xander’s recent involvement, at least not yet, so the statement in itself was moot sarcasm.



There was reason to his request; he didn’t wish to conjure more of the actresses’ involvement if possible. Spike knew that Cordelia meant good in her own rare unselfish way. She might have thought she was being diplomatic in her offhanded comments with her recent over exuberant calls and casual notes; however, she didn’t fool Spike, he could still see right through the best of them. And if Raven’s quiet discontentment was any indication, the old vampire was fed up with the amusement of human meddling, especially if it interrupted his pleasure time, given how much flexibility he had first given Miss Chase seeing as he liked her art. Her actions undoubtedly caused a warm feel to spread over Spike, but someone had to tell her that an ‘old dog’ rarely learned new tricks.



Xander snorted. “Says the guy who lives in a dump.” He didn’t tell Cordelia he was going to accompany Spike to this big shindig like he was all but ordered to do. He winced. Although, he might have mentioned something to that Lorne guy so he would hurry and patch him to Willow -who was meeting with Wesley- so they could exchange last minute notes. Nothing more to add from the redhead’s camp other than to be careful and, “Don’t piss off anyone there”. Xander hoped that green demons with a strange love to bright clothing and high-strung divas weren’t gossips. Whatever reason for Spike not wanting Cordelia to know, it must be bad. And Xander was sane enough not to want to be the catalyst to anything, particularly since he was the outsider now, feeling that there was a punch line that always passed over his head.



“I’ll have you know, this is shabby sheik.” Spike crossed his arms defiantly.



“Yeah, if you say so, Bleach Head.”



“Did I mention how much I’m glad you’re here?” Spike asked pleasantly.



“Aw, Spike, you’d go so far as to sweet talk me.” Xander fluttered his lashes. “Well, gosh, William, I don’t know what to say.”



Spike narrowed his eyes then smirked. “You know what I miss, Xander? Those long nights spent in that dank basement of yours … with you weeping like a school girl when bloody Jack froze to his death while you clutched your Backstreet Poofter Boys’ lunch box to your chest so tightly you broke the handle. You should tell Princess C, you two would have so much in common … except the love of boy bands that is.” His eyes wiggled evilly.



"Fine, jeez, you got me," Xander, who was astonished at the blatant threat, said. He had thought Spike was asleep. He held up his finger. "I'll wear the fancy clothes… but I draw the line at a tie."



"Fair enough." Spike tilted his head in inspection. "That way your neck will be in easy reach."



Xander stuck his tongue out. He looked down at his watch and grinned.



“Too bad, Spike, my friend, if I go back to my ‘classy’ hotel room in the traffic at this time of night, the fancy get-together of the evil society would be over before I come back, all prettied up for you.”



Spike raised an eyebrow. He wore a silent expression for a while before he snatched up a cell phone that was on the table and dialed. The device was recently annoying the hell out of him with Cordelia calling at all times of the day and night, for several days now, uncaring of what she was interrupting, to discuss absolutely nothing. And Angel. But those things coincided anyway. He was nearly fed up with it that he was this close to seeing how big a hole the small metal object would create in the wall. He was glad now he was strong in will.



“Hey, luv. Nah, not ready, seems that Little Miss Muffet here needs a change---” Spike furrowed his brows and looked at Xander as if he were distasteful of something. “Might’ve soiled himself, not fancying a look myself.”



Spike chuckled at Xander’s outraged look. “Something with easy access to the jugular, that’s right.” He looked little impressed. “Ten? That’s plenty of time to strip him.” With a chuckle, he replaced the phone.



Xander was gaping at him, but only one thing came out, “How does your Sugar Daddy know what size to get?”



Spike shrugged, grinning. “I stopped asking myself a century ago how Ray does what he does. Bloke can play mean chess and he’s always preparing the next move, planning ahead.”



Xander tried to remember, saying, “You told me when you met him after Drusilla played the old age game of ‘dump the Spike’ he wanted to kill you, but was so impressed that when you didn’t care if you’d die in drunken glory fighting his band of merry vamps, that he took you in, like his… ward?” He snickered, trying to picture Raven in a bat suit and Spike as his trusty sidekick in tights.



Spike narrowed his eyes but before he could set the boy straight, he continued on, “But you were a bad student then. I really can’t see you planning ahead without jumping the gun, and playing chess?” Xander bellowed. “You’d be so bored, cheating sounds like too hard a work.”



“Thought you sussed me out, have ya?” Spike crossed his arms huffily.



Xander nodded and tried to joke good-naturally, “Not that I’m one to talk. I guess we never pick up things from out seniors.” He scrunched his nose disgustedly at the thought of him being like his father or even worse, Spike being like Angelus or, God forbid, Angel. At least Raven had cool cars, even if Xander was even more unnerved when Spike mentioned the vampire’s uncanny ability to carry off a plan. “I think we’re better off.”



Spike shrugged, both for the sake of the person in front of him and for his own to shake off long never forgotten memories, as he once more looked Xander up and down. “Now, how about you shimmy out of those rags. Ray’ll be here any minute with the way he drives, masterful really.”



Xander crossed his arms over his chest defiantly.



“Sure. Just let me take off my clothes and stand here… clothe-less for your deviant pleasure.” He stuck his chin up. “Think again.”



Spike rubbed his forehead as he headed towards the apartment door and peered out in hopes that Raven had arrived early. Surely it was due time the gods gave him a break. Or maybe some damsel to rescue, which would require his undivided attention so much so that if he didn’t make an appearance at the demonic gathering... “You’re getting on my last nerve here, Harris.” No luck. He turned, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him.



~ Impractical to say a vamp got cold feet. ~ He wrapped his arms around himself. ~ Harris is the king of quick exits… humans and their freewill and their self-ownership, makes a bloke nearly envious. ~ Spike stopped a little distance from the doorway. His senses urged him to inspect something out there. ~ I’m not getting me a bad deal here, the cloud ain’t so dark, nearly meshing with the silver lining it is. ~ It was too late to back down now. Sad thing was, he couldn’t stop ‘it’ even if he wanted to. Old memories of caged against his will via a metal chip in his noggin were brought back to the surface.



Xander tightened his arms over his chest. The silence was deafening, and the looks fighting for a place on Spike’s face were making the human uncomfortable, feeling again out of the loop, something he hated. And somehow he found himself feeling guilty for some mysterious reason. He had to say something. “I’m not gonna be the only one standing here with my shirt off!”



Spike eyes refocused.



“The only one…?” He clenched his teeth. “There’s only two people here.”



“And only one is gonna be half naked, me. I think not!”



Spike rolled his eyes and pulled off his black T-shirt.



“There, happy?” He held him his hands half way in exasperation.



“Much.” Xander nodded as he unbuttoned his shirt.



A cough from the doorway caused both men to jump and turn with different levels of sheepish looks on their faces. Raven stood holding what was clearly the aforementioned clothes, face amused.



“I seem to be interrupting.” He twisted his lips. “Perhaps I should…” He cocked his finger to the exit.



Xander jumped to snatch the pressed clothes from the vampire before he could finish.



“Thanks. Not interrupting. I’ll just…” He pointed to the bathroom before he disappeared, door clicking shut.



Spike snorted. “That was wicked of you, Mr. Van.” He grinned. “Good on ya.”



Raven smiled back but didn’t move inside.



“Something wrong?” Spike puckered his brow, noticing Raven’s eyes diverted, looking outside his apartment. He started to go around the vampire, remembering his earlier feeling, but Raven held his arm before he passed by.



“Nothing. Now. You need to change as well so you can be presented to the Gathering of elites,” the last word was spoken with such a tone that caused both vampires to grin mischievously.



The way Raven’s eyes roamed over Spike’s bare chest told the vampire under scrutiny that his current state wasn’t all that unappealing.



"Spike is going to be 'Presented'." Xander let out a laugh with his mocking tone as he exited the bathroom fully dressed. He couldn’t deny that the chocolate brown shirt with black pinstripes matching the fitted pants looked good on him. “Hey pointy teethed ones, does this shirt bring out my eye?”



"You'll bloody be well presented as dinner if you don't behave." Spike glared.



Raven let out a small smile, glad for once for the human’s presence, distracting Spike as completed studied his parameter. He didn’t know what Angel was doing here. When he saw the other Master’s car parked up front, he chose to wait in cover and see what happened.



When Spike called a short time later about the human’s clothing, Raven couldn’t help but internally smirk at his own foresight. He already had prepared for such an occurrence and the appropriate attire was neatly in the trunk.



When Raven finally decided to step out and face the other vampire, Angel had come bounding from another direction than where the building was, jumping into the Viper and was turning the corner before he could form another thought. It took him a short while to figure it out as he took out the clothes. There had been a distant cry for help; Angel must have heeded the call. As Raven walked the path to Spike’s temporary residence –if he had any say in it- he wondered if Angel did what he came to do.



Due to Spike’s lack of frustration that only a recent brush with Angel could bring, and the hesitant scent barely noted outside the apartment but not inside, Raven was led to the conclusion that the Aurelius Master had cold feet.



Raven smirked, ~ Typical and very convenient, ~ and returned his attention to the children.



“If you’ll get out of the way, Harris, I’ll get my garbs on.” Spike pursed his lips. “Less you care for me to pull at my slacks here?”



Xander stepped out of the way, instantly, complete with royal hand gestures. The next few moments were spent with him standing in an awkward silence with a non-souled, sadly non-chipped vampire. Although, he was proud at the discrete suspicious looks he was casting the superior looking creator.



Raven barely held himself from rolling his eyes at the human’s pitiful attempts at acting casual. He was nearly fed up and was about to flash some fangs at the skittish mortal if not for his attention being grabbed by something else.



Spike had stepped out of the bathroom; blond nearly white hair neatly slicked back, a few strands, as if particularly selected were free falling over his elegant brow. Indigo gray striped button down shirt, two top buttons open to reveal a smooth silver chain, and dark blue jeans completed the outfit. Raven smiled appreciatively at his selection. William looked every bit the confident Master vampire, with an air that was uniquely the rebellious Spike’s own.



The whole outfit, and how Spike held himself, seemed to cause Xander to blink, chiefly, when Spike moved passed his sight, nearly paralleling with Raven in his vision, making him really take note in the Hravolen Master’s apparel. The charcoal gray suit, shirt neatly buttoned up, no tie that was complemented by Ray’s blue-gray one, just fit the vampire like it was made for him. And something in Xander –he blamed it on getting exposed to a little to much fashion-oriented Cordelia- said that the vampires’ two attires were meant to blend with each other comfortably. Some innate voice in him pointed it that it was a strategic move from Raven.



This disconcerted the youth for some reason. Xander wasn’t comfortable with this sudden insight in ‘looking at the hidden meaning of fashion’ and decided to fall back on an old documented safe zone.



“So, we gonna ride into the gala in style? Sport-style that is?” He plastered a wide, genuine smile on his face, already out the door.



Raven raised an eyebrow, and he and Spike followed the bouncing boy as he chattered the way to the street where he pulled to a screeching halt.



“This isn’t….!” Xander pointed indignantly, wide brown eye looking as if his favorite snack was pulled indefinably off the market.



However, before Raven could enjoy rattling the human whilst he ignored Spike’s yawns of boredom, the vampire was taken aback when the human’s expression, as his eye jumped from the vehicle to him, changed.



“Oooh, how long IS that limo?”



Raven twisted his lips. “The longest possible so you’d be as far away as possible.”



That irked statement didn’t affect Xander who tilted his head, trying to look inside the darkened windows. “Is there a bar? Do you get satellite? Is there a pool?”



Raven’s eyes flashed, feeling his ironed polite patience thinning.



The boy was still talking. “Man, wait till I tell, Willow. She’d be so jealous!”



Raven’s fingers began to twitch as Xander’s voice only got louder. He inched closer to the human.



“Play nice.” Spike flicked his lighter on and blow smoke at the Master Vampires face, stopping his tracks. “Where are the real rides?”



Raven waved his hand with disgust at filthy smoke wafting at his face, undoubtedly marking his garments with its stench. He rolled his eyes when William merely raised an eyebrow, uncaring. He loved the youngling, but that foul habit had to go once he claimed him, as well as the devil-may-care attitude that first drew him needed some boundaries.



Spike wrapped his lips around the cigarette and made a show of sucking more on the tip, causing colliding feelings in his avid viewer as if he could read the conflicting emotions within the golden eyes in front of him and enjoying causing at.



In fact, Raven knew he was. His eyes returned to their normal blue-grey hue, wincing when he heard Xander tapping at the glass, trying to get the driver to open the window so he could ask him some questions.



“You’ll be doing that all the way, are you not?” Raven tilted his head.



Spike smirked around the fag, knowing when to throw his cards. “Sure am.”



He pointed at the wild haired human. “And him?”



Spike raised his chin, and merely looked at him.



With a sigh, Raven waved at the limousine driver and had some satisfaction at watching the human’s hopeful gaze die when it drove off. Expecting the anxious look that was going to zero on him, his finger was already pointing at the far end of the street.



A matching silver Ferrari and Porsche glowed under a far streetlight.



~ Handled by a youngling and a human child. ~ Hrafen shook his head. If his eyes were not set on the prize already…



A grin split his face.



Raven stuck his hands into his pockets and calmly moved towards the cars in the wake of the sprinting two, who were now snapping at each other about who would drive the Ferrari.



Good. Because he was riding on his own.



He would let them argue a little longer, maybe have William irrationally believe that the human would sit behind the wheal.



He had the keys after all.









*~*~*~*~*~*