No Hero
folder
AtS/BtVS Crossovers › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
17
Views:
3,417
Reviews:
26
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
AtS/BtVS Crossovers › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
17
Views:
3,417
Reviews:
26
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS) or Angel, the Series (AtS); nor any of the characters from them. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
A Strange Friendship
Author's Notes: Due to the fact that my muse is MIA, I'm proud I could write this much, LOL.
A Strange Friendship
The soft ticking of a grandfather clock was the only sound that filled Angel’s office, and neither vampire spoke as the elder gestured for Spike to take a seat. If the pair had been at odds a moment ago, they were on the same side now; both wanted to find a way to save Fred.
“You heard Red,” Spike said at length. “If we exorcise the Eater’s spirit from Fred, it’ll just possess someone else. I don’t bloody know what we’re going to do.”
“The Orb of Thesulah,” the witch in question interrupted from the doorway. “I’d completely forgotten about it, but it’s what we used to hold Angel’s soul until it could be returned to him.”
A glimmer of hope filtered through Angel’s mahogany eyes; he had never been so relieved to hear mention of the Orb as he was in that moment. When last he had heard of it in such a way, Angelus had been in the driver’s seat. He shuddered at the memory.
“The spell’s not the same, though, is it?” inquired Spike as he lit a cigarette.
“Don’t smoke in here,” Angel replied automatically.
Rolling his eyes, Spike returned, “Don’t tell me what to do.”
“I-it’s not the same,” stammered Willow, “but I might be able to find another way. I just thought I’d let you know that we’re not just doing nothing.”
“Thank you, Willow.”
“Thanks, Red.” The blonde vampire, to his own surprise as much as Willow’s, spoke in tandem with his sire. It was not often that they were so in sync with one another; Spike took it as a bad sign. Was he becoming a poofter?
“Th-that’s all,” she said as she retreated. It was a rare thing to find Spike and Angel in the same room together and not bickering; it was something she had no desire to interrupt. It would be so much easier on Buffy if they could learn to get along.
“Well,” Spike began, deliberately taking a heavy drag from his cigarette as he met his sire’s gaze, “I guess this little meetin’ isn’t necessary.”
“Spike,” Angel warned. “Just don’t. You won, all right? Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“It helps a bit,” the blonde admitted.
Angel sighed unnecessarily; he had thought things had been resolved between them when Spike had explained to Buffy how he, not Drusilla, had sired him. He should have known better; Spike would never forgive him for being Buffy’s first love. “Then I’ve said it; Buffy’s with you now. She’s… she’s happier than I’ve ever seen her,” he said begrudgingly.
“Yeah, well, I try.” Though his words were flippant at best, the sincerity with which he uttered them took both vampires by surprise. He did his best to see that Buffy was happier than she had ever been, at least happier than she’d ever been in life. “She’s with the whelp now,” Spike offered, answering Angel’s next question.
“When I spoke to her before you came back, she said that they were spending a lot of time together because they’d both lost someone they loved that day. I couldn’t believe it at first, that she loved you.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Did you believe her when she said it the first time?” Angel queried. He was trying for Buffy’s sake to find some sense of camaraderie with his errant childe, and, if he admitted it to himself, because he’d missed him – or at least Angelus had missed having someone with a high testosterone count to one-up. With his soul, the demon’s hatred and superiority had twisted to become a need for companionship with the man who was both brother and son to him.
Spike, in the eerie way he understood the needs and wants of others, knew what his sire was doing. Angel felt alone, and rather than suffering in silence as he had once been content to do, he reached out for a helping hand. This, the Angel who had been taught by Whistler to be in the world but not of it, the Angel who had been locked within his own mind for years, needed a friend. The poncy boy William part of him empathized, and so Spike relented. “‘Course I did. I just had to get her out of there.”
The Spike Angel knew was selfish, but ultimately good-natured, yet this was something he was not prepared for, the realization that his childe had love her all along. Even without his soul, he had been willing to sacrifice everything for Buffy, for her happiness. “Fuck.”
“What?”
“You’ve always loved her, even when you hated her. You loved what she was.”
“It was an obsession for me,” the younger vampire clarified, “I wanted to cap off my third slayer, add another notch to my belt. I could never do it, didn’t know what it meant for years, but she knew.”
“Drusilla.”
“Dru… she knew all along.” Drusilla had known that, as William, Spike had loved without limit and idealistically, and that, even as a vampire, that part of him had never dimmed. Oh, she had mocked him for it, but she had known it long before he’d figured it out.
Heaving a sigh, Angel admitted, “Sometimes I miss her. I know it’s something leftover from Angelus, but it’s there. I missed you, too. I never liked you, but I missed you.”
“You’ve got a funny way of showin’ it, Peaches.” Spike would not answer the question in his sire’s voice, but of course he had missed him in his way. He’d missed him almost as greatly as he loathed him. The complexities of the thought process of a vampire were endless and confusing – especially to the vampires involved.
“I know,” the elder said simply.
“Back to that, again? When you don’t know what to say, you always say that you know, and don’t do it again.”
Rather than speaking the hated words, the brunette shrugged. “I’ve never been a great conversationalist.”
“I seem to remember Angelus prattlin’ on for hours ‘bout nothin’ in particular.”
“I'm not him, Spike, or should I call you William?”
“Not unless you have a yen to wake up on fire.”
“Go on,” Angel prompted. “You’ve got a girl waiting.” A girl who should be mine, he thought bitterly.
“I know when I’m not welcome.”
“That’s a first.” At his childe’s heated glare, he added, “You walked right into that one.”
“I did at that,” Spike agreed with a hearty chuckle. “Did at that.” Pushing to his feet, he strode out of the room without another word, or even a backward glance. Willow would find a way to save Fred, and he had Buffy waiting for him. All was right with the world.
A Strange Friendship
The soft ticking of a grandfather clock was the only sound that filled Angel’s office, and neither vampire spoke as the elder gestured for Spike to take a seat. If the pair had been at odds a moment ago, they were on the same side now; both wanted to find a way to save Fred.
“You heard Red,” Spike said at length. “If we exorcise the Eater’s spirit from Fred, it’ll just possess someone else. I don’t bloody know what we’re going to do.”
“The Orb of Thesulah,” the witch in question interrupted from the doorway. “I’d completely forgotten about it, but it’s what we used to hold Angel’s soul until it could be returned to him.”
A glimmer of hope filtered through Angel’s mahogany eyes; he had never been so relieved to hear mention of the Orb as he was in that moment. When last he had heard of it in such a way, Angelus had been in the driver’s seat. He shuddered at the memory.
“The spell’s not the same, though, is it?” inquired Spike as he lit a cigarette.
“Don’t smoke in here,” Angel replied automatically.
Rolling his eyes, Spike returned, “Don’t tell me what to do.”
“I-it’s not the same,” stammered Willow, “but I might be able to find another way. I just thought I’d let you know that we’re not just doing nothing.”
“Thank you, Willow.”
“Thanks, Red.” The blonde vampire, to his own surprise as much as Willow’s, spoke in tandem with his sire. It was not often that they were so in sync with one another; Spike took it as a bad sign. Was he becoming a poofter?
“Th-that’s all,” she said as she retreated. It was a rare thing to find Spike and Angel in the same room together and not bickering; it was something she had no desire to interrupt. It would be so much easier on Buffy if they could learn to get along.
“Well,” Spike began, deliberately taking a heavy drag from his cigarette as he met his sire’s gaze, “I guess this little meetin’ isn’t necessary.”
“Spike,” Angel warned. “Just don’t. You won, all right? Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“It helps a bit,” the blonde admitted.
Angel sighed unnecessarily; he had thought things had been resolved between them when Spike had explained to Buffy how he, not Drusilla, had sired him. He should have known better; Spike would never forgive him for being Buffy’s first love. “Then I’ve said it; Buffy’s with you now. She’s… she’s happier than I’ve ever seen her,” he said begrudgingly.
“Yeah, well, I try.” Though his words were flippant at best, the sincerity with which he uttered them took both vampires by surprise. He did his best to see that Buffy was happier than she had ever been, at least happier than she’d ever been in life. “She’s with the whelp now,” Spike offered, answering Angel’s next question.
“When I spoke to her before you came back, she said that they were spending a lot of time together because they’d both lost someone they loved that day. I couldn’t believe it at first, that she loved you.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Did you believe her when she said it the first time?” Angel queried. He was trying for Buffy’s sake to find some sense of camaraderie with his errant childe, and, if he admitted it to himself, because he’d missed him – or at least Angelus had missed having someone with a high testosterone count to one-up. With his soul, the demon’s hatred and superiority had twisted to become a need for companionship with the man who was both brother and son to him.
Spike, in the eerie way he understood the needs and wants of others, knew what his sire was doing. Angel felt alone, and rather than suffering in silence as he had once been content to do, he reached out for a helping hand. This, the Angel who had been taught by Whistler to be in the world but not of it, the Angel who had been locked within his own mind for years, needed a friend. The poncy boy William part of him empathized, and so Spike relented. “‘Course I did. I just had to get her out of there.”
The Spike Angel knew was selfish, but ultimately good-natured, yet this was something he was not prepared for, the realization that his childe had love her all along. Even without his soul, he had been willing to sacrifice everything for Buffy, for her happiness. “Fuck.”
“What?”
“You’ve always loved her, even when you hated her. You loved what she was.”
“It was an obsession for me,” the younger vampire clarified, “I wanted to cap off my third slayer, add another notch to my belt. I could never do it, didn’t know what it meant for years, but she knew.”
“Drusilla.”
“Dru… she knew all along.” Drusilla had known that, as William, Spike had loved without limit and idealistically, and that, even as a vampire, that part of him had never dimmed. Oh, she had mocked him for it, but she had known it long before he’d figured it out.
Heaving a sigh, Angel admitted, “Sometimes I miss her. I know it’s something leftover from Angelus, but it’s there. I missed you, too. I never liked you, but I missed you.”
“You’ve got a funny way of showin’ it, Peaches.” Spike would not answer the question in his sire’s voice, but of course he had missed him in his way. He’d missed him almost as greatly as he loathed him. The complexities of the thought process of a vampire were endless and confusing – especially to the vampires involved.
“I know,” the elder said simply.
“Back to that, again? When you don’t know what to say, you always say that you know, and don’t do it again.”
Rather than speaking the hated words, the brunette shrugged. “I’ve never been a great conversationalist.”
“I seem to remember Angelus prattlin’ on for hours ‘bout nothin’ in particular.”
“I'm not him, Spike, or should I call you William?”
“Not unless you have a yen to wake up on fire.”
“Go on,” Angel prompted. “You’ve got a girl waiting.” A girl who should be mine, he thought bitterly.
“I know when I’m not welcome.”
“That’s a first.” At his childe’s heated glare, he added, “You walked right into that one.”
“I did at that,” Spike agreed with a hearty chuckle. “Did at that.” Pushing to his feet, he strode out of the room without another word, or even a backward glance. Willow would find a way to save Fred, and he had Buffy waiting for him. All was right with the world.