Deja Vu - the updates
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AtS AU/AR › Slash - Male/Male › Angel(us)/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
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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:
4,115
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 87
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: 8 January 2005
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 87
A village somewhere in Pylea
*************
Wesley seemed to have recovered his composure by the time Spike and Angel caught up with the others outside the village hall. It had been difficult to persuade Angel to come in out of the sunshine. Spike had never seen him like this before. He was behaving like a kid with a new toy. Anyone’d think he’d never seen the sun before.
Bloody cute it was.
Lorne and Fred were seated on a wicker couch on the boardwalk. Wesley had taken the arm chair next to Fred. He was busy showing Fred a set of photographs and newspaper clippings. Spike chuckled to himself. It was a wonder Wes hadn’t brought his bleedin’ computer with him to give her the full Powerpoint presentation on the past three year’s worth of news headlines.
“Hey!” Angel said, pulling up two more chairs and sitting down opposite Lorne and Fred.
Spike sat down next to him.
“It’s only moonshine but see what you think,” Lorne said, handing each of them a mug of the local brew.
Spike sipped his. He’d had worse. He took another sip. Mmm, wasn’t half bad, all things considered.
“Not bad, Pet. Puts me in mind of the original Jack. What’s it made from?”
“Our own version of sour mash,” Lorne said. “Ask Fred. She’s the mastermind behind the distillery, aren’t you, Poppet.”
Fred giggled.
“It’s an old family recipe. My grandpappy taught it me… when he considered I was old enough to learn. We all called it ‘The Recipe’. He claimed it was medicinal…”
She giggled again.
“Of course, I didn’t know it was whiskey until years later… The process works with lots of different things but I think this is the best we’ve produced so far, don’t you, Lorne? I can show you how we make it…”
She started to get up but sat back down again when Lorne placed a hand on her arm. She seemed kinda nervous, not to mention eager to please her three visitors.
“Smells like the stuff I used to drink back in Ireland,” Angel said sniffing his drink before taking a large swig.
Fred turned her attention back to the photograph Wesley was holding.
“Ooo, is that really you?” she asked. “You look so debonair…”
She giggled.
“… just like James Bond. Even though I can’t see properly without my glasses, I can tell you scrub up well…”
“What you showing her, Pet?” Spike asked, moving so that he could look over Wesley’s shoulder.
It was a picture of Wesley in a tuxedo. Spike looked again. Bloody Hell! The woman standing next to him in a low cut evening dress that left little to the imagination was none other than Cordelia. Wesley had his arm around her waist. Spike started to wonder if he was the only one never to have had the hots for her.
“Ooops!” Wesley said. “I didn’t mean… I don’t know how that one…”
Fred smiled sympathetically as Wesley hurriedly returned the picture to the folder he was holding.
“She’s pretty,” Fred said.
Wesley didn’t reply but, instead, began to rummage in his rucksack.
“I brought you these,” he said, handing her a small case - a spectacle case, if Spike wasn’t mistaken. “I believe you’ll find they’re close to your prescription. I thought you might need them.”
Trust Wes to think of getting a spare pair of specs made up for her. Good idea though. Spike wished he’d thought of it.
Wesley was reaching into the rucksack again. Spike wondered what else he had in there.
“Oh, how did you know?” Fred asked. “I broke my glasses three months ago. That’s so sweet of you…”
It was Wesley’s turn to blush.
“Look, this is the picture I meant to show you,” he said changing the subject and handing her another picture. “It’s the hotel Angel has just bought. It’s where we all live. There’s a suite waiting for you…”
“Oh, yes, the Hyperion,” Fred said. “Lorne has told me about it. Angel used to live there in the fifties.”
Seemed like there weren’t much Lorne hadn’t told her. Course, they probably hadn’t had much else to do of an evening these past three years ’cept talk.
Wesley looked less than comfortable. Spike put it down to the faux pas with the photograph. Either that or the whiskey was making him a little light-headed.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Darlings,” Lorne said. “Would you like to freshen up before we eat? We do have a shower… of sorts. The water’s cold though, I’m afraid.”
“Er… yes,” Wesley said. “I think I would. Thank you.”
Spike exchanged a glance with Angel.
“You go too, Pet,” Spike said. “I’ll keep Fred company until you get back.”
He wanted to have a word with Fred… on her own.
“Okay,” Angel said, getting up to follow Lorne and Wesley.
****************
Angel grabbed Wesley’s rucksack which he’d left beside his chair - he’d likely have a change of shirt in there, he seemed to have come well prepared - and hurried after the pair.
“I still can’t believe it,” Wesley was saying as Angel caught up with them. “She’s alive… and she looks so well. I remember how thin she was when we first found her. It’s hard to believe she’s the same woman.”
Wesley frowned.
“She is the same woman, isn’t she?” he asked.
“Oh yes. You have nothing to worry about on that score, Wes.”
But there was something they should be worried about? Or, was Angel reading too much between the lines? There was certainly something Lorne wasn’t telling them. Maybe Spike would be able to find out what it was.
***************
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: 8 January 2005
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 87
A village somewhere in Pylea
*************
Wesley seemed to have recovered his composure by the time Spike and Angel caught up with the others outside the village hall. It had been difficult to persuade Angel to come in out of the sunshine. Spike had never seen him like this before. He was behaving like a kid with a new toy. Anyone’d think he’d never seen the sun before.
Bloody cute it was.
Lorne and Fred were seated on a wicker couch on the boardwalk. Wesley had taken the arm chair next to Fred. He was busy showing Fred a set of photographs and newspaper clippings. Spike chuckled to himself. It was a wonder Wes hadn’t brought his bleedin’ computer with him to give her the full Powerpoint presentation on the past three year’s worth of news headlines.
“Hey!” Angel said, pulling up two more chairs and sitting down opposite Lorne and Fred.
Spike sat down next to him.
“It’s only moonshine but see what you think,” Lorne said, handing each of them a mug of the local brew.
Spike sipped his. He’d had worse. He took another sip. Mmm, wasn’t half bad, all things considered.
“Not bad, Pet. Puts me in mind of the original Jack. What’s it made from?”
“Our own version of sour mash,” Lorne said. “Ask Fred. She’s the mastermind behind the distillery, aren’t you, Poppet.”
Fred giggled.
“It’s an old family recipe. My grandpappy taught it me… when he considered I was old enough to learn. We all called it ‘The Recipe’. He claimed it was medicinal…”
She giggled again.
“Of course, I didn’t know it was whiskey until years later… The process works with lots of different things but I think this is the best we’ve produced so far, don’t you, Lorne? I can show you how we make it…”
She started to get up but sat back down again when Lorne placed a hand on her arm. She seemed kinda nervous, not to mention eager to please her three visitors.
“Smells like the stuff I used to drink back in Ireland,” Angel said sniffing his drink before taking a large swig.
Fred turned her attention back to the photograph Wesley was holding.
“Ooo, is that really you?” she asked. “You look so debonair…”
She giggled.
“… just like James Bond. Even though I can’t see properly without my glasses, I can tell you scrub up well…”
“What you showing her, Pet?” Spike asked, moving so that he could look over Wesley’s shoulder.
It was a picture of Wesley in a tuxedo. Spike looked again. Bloody Hell! The woman standing next to him in a low cut evening dress that left little to the imagination was none other than Cordelia. Wesley had his arm around her waist. Spike started to wonder if he was the only one never to have had the hots for her.
“Ooops!” Wesley said. “I didn’t mean… I don’t know how that one…”
Fred smiled sympathetically as Wesley hurriedly returned the picture to the folder he was holding.
“She’s pretty,” Fred said.
Wesley didn’t reply but, instead, began to rummage in his rucksack.
“I brought you these,” he said, handing her a small case - a spectacle case, if Spike wasn’t mistaken. “I believe you’ll find they’re close to your prescription. I thought you might need them.”
Trust Wes to think of getting a spare pair of specs made up for her. Good idea though. Spike wished he’d thought of it.
Wesley was reaching into the rucksack again. Spike wondered what else he had in there.
“Oh, how did you know?” Fred asked. “I broke my glasses three months ago. That’s so sweet of you…”
It was Wesley’s turn to blush.
“Look, this is the picture I meant to show you,” he said changing the subject and handing her another picture. “It’s the hotel Angel has just bought. It’s where we all live. There’s a suite waiting for you…”
“Oh, yes, the Hyperion,” Fred said. “Lorne has told me about it. Angel used to live there in the fifties.”
Seemed like there weren’t much Lorne hadn’t told her. Course, they probably hadn’t had much else to do of an evening these past three years ’cept talk.
Wesley looked less than comfortable. Spike put it down to the faux pas with the photograph. Either that or the whiskey was making him a little light-headed.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Darlings,” Lorne said. “Would you like to freshen up before we eat? We do have a shower… of sorts. The water’s cold though, I’m afraid.”
“Er… yes,” Wesley said. “I think I would. Thank you.”
Spike exchanged a glance with Angel.
“You go too, Pet,” Spike said. “I’ll keep Fred company until you get back.”
He wanted to have a word with Fred… on her own.
“Okay,” Angel said, getting up to follow Lorne and Wesley.
****************
Angel grabbed Wesley’s rucksack which he’d left beside his chair - he’d likely have a change of shirt in there, he seemed to have come well prepared - and hurried after the pair.
“I still can’t believe it,” Wesley was saying as Angel caught up with them. “She’s alive… and she looks so well. I remember how thin she was when we first found her. It’s hard to believe she’s the same woman.”
Wesley frowned.
“She is the same woman, isn’t she?” he asked.
“Oh yes. You have nothing to worry about on that score, Wes.”
But there was something they should be worried about? Or, was Angel reading too much between the lines? There was certainly something Lorne wasn’t telling them. Maybe Spike would be able to find out what it was.
***************