Angels Bad Night
folder
Angel the Series › Slash - Male/Male › Angel(us)/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
3,518
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Angel the Series › Slash - Male/Male › Angel(us)/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
3,518
Reviews:
0
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.
Four
Angel walked up to the Hyperion, very confused when he saw that it grateful, because he was grateful for their friendships.
Spike watched through one of the windows of the Hyperion as Angel's pets threw him a birthday party. He could tell that his sire was none too thrilled about it, but he was putting on a good show. Spike wished they would all just fucking go away, though. He and Angel had unfinished business to tend to.
Spike had had the chip out for a little over a month, but no one knew that yet. He'd hidden the fact from the Scoobies, mostly because of the temporary insanity that had been his Slayer obsession. She'd d hid him of it right quick, when she'd slammed the door in his face. Rupert had given Spike the extra little push back to sanity when he'd gone Ripper on him. Spike had realized then that he was being an ass. Buffy didn't want him, she never would. So he'd left town, not much having a direction, just driving.
After a few days of wandering, and a little time to think clearly, he realized why he'd fallen for Buffy. It was the same reason he'd stayed with Drusilla for so long. Both women had been links to someone else, someone who Spike had always felt the need to maintain a connection to. The fact that both Drusilla and Buffy tolerated Spike because of the same need for a connection to the same individual, didn't make Spike feel any better about himself.
Who was that someone? Angelus. It always came down to Angelus. Spike was sickened by the thought. He'd spent well over a cen as as his own vampire. Or so he'd thought. The reality of his life was that all the things he'd held onto had been reminders of his sire.
Spike had finally ended up in L.A. Why? The same reason he'd gone to L.A. after he'd found the ring of Amarra. He couldn't leave well enough alone. He'd always felt drawn to Angelus, he would always need him. Soul or no soul, it didn't matter. Spike was bound to his sire, whether he liked it or not.
After a few days, Spike had succeeded in tracking down Angel. He had told himself he just wanted to see him one last time. He'd leave before he was noticed and he'd go somewhere to try to make a new life for himself. But no, fate had laughed in Spike's face and Angel had run into him, literally earlier that night. He'd lied and told Angel it was a fluke they'd run into each other. The Pouff had been too lost in his own broodiness to suspect otherwise and had let him go.
Spike had been surprised by the fact that he hadn't gotten pounded into the ground instead. He should have been grateful for the reprieve and left town, but he hadn't. No, rather than do the intelligent thing, he pulled the same stalker act that he'd pulled far too many times with the Slayer. He'd followed Angel back to his hotel and now he was watching him. Just a few more minutes, Spike kept telling himself now. Just a little longer, then he'd leave. § 4 ??? |? Äz?? Five\ ??d ?Cordelia, Wesley and Gunn left around midnight. Angel walked them out, to make sure they at least got to their vehicles safely. As they drove off, he returned to the hotel to clean up before he went to bed.
He had to admit, it hadn't been a horrible night, really. He'd missed the past few weeks. He wasn't really sure what to think of Cordelia's present to him, though. Bunny slippers? Definitely a bit of human culture he'd never understood, but he was pretty sure they had been a gag gift.
He gathered up his other gifts. Wesley had given him a book of poetry, W.B. Yeats. Angel had been thrilled, Yeats was one of his favorite poets. Gunn had given him a very antique-looking battle axe, a gift he'd also loved. He'd broken his favorite battle axe a few days earlier when he and Gunn had cleared out a nearby warehouse which had become a vampire nest.
He put the axe in his weapons room and then returned to the lobby. He finished cleaning up the dishes and wrapping paper and was about to take the poetry book up to his room, when he remembered the slippers. They were staring back at him. He shuddered; they were creepy. He decided they would stay on the couch. Fgrateful, because he was grateful for their friendships.
Spike watched through one of the windows of the Hyperion as Angel's pets threw him a birthday party. He could tell that his sire was none too thrilled about it, but he was putting on a good show. Spike wished they would all just fucking go away, though. He and Angel had unfinished business to tend to.
Spike had had the chip out for a little over a month, but no one knew that yet. He'd hidden the fact from the Scoobies, mostly because of the temporary insanity that had been his Slayer obsession. She'd cured him of it right quick, when she'd slammed the door in his face. Rupert had given Spike the extra little push back to sanity when he'd gone Ripper on him. Spike had realized then that he was being an ass. Buffy didn't want him, she never would. So he'd left town, not much having a direction, just driving.
After a few days of wandering, and a little time to think clearly, he realized why he'd fallen for Buffy. It was the same reason he'd stayed with Drusilla for so long. Both women had been links to someone else, someone who Spike had always felt the need to maintain a connection to. The fact that both Drusilla and Buffy tolerated Spike because of the same need for a connection to the same individual, didn't make Spike feel any better about himself.
Who was that someone? Angelus. It always came down to Angelus. Spike was sickened by the thought. He'd spent well over a century as his own vampire. Or so he'd thought. The reality of his life was that all the things he'd held onto had been reminders of his sire.
Spike had finally ended up in L.A. Why? The same reason he'd gone to L.A. after he'd found the ring of Amarra. He couldn't leave well enough alone. He'd always felt drawn to Angelus, he would always need him. Soul or no soul, it didn't matter. Spike was bound to his sire, whether he liked it or not.
After a few days, Spike had succeeded in tracking down Angel. He had told himself he just wanted to see him one last time. He'd leave before he was noticed and he'd go somewhere to try to make a new life for himself. But no, fate had laughed in Spike's face and Angel had run into him, literally earlier that night. He'd lied and told Angel it was a fluke they'd run into each other. The Pouff had been too lost in his own broodiness to suspect otherwise and had let him go.
Spike had been surprised by the fact that he hadn't gotten pounded into the ground instead. He should have been grateful for the reprieve and left town, but he hadn't. No, rather than do the intelligent thing, he pulled the same stalker act that he'd pulled far too many times with the Slayer. He'd followed Angel back to his hotel and now he was watching him. Just a few more minutes, Spike kept telling himself now. Just a little longer, then he'd leave.
Spike watched through one of the windows of the Hyperion as Angel's pets threw him a birthday party. He could tell that his sire was none too thrilled about it, but he was putting on a good show. Spike wished they would all just fucking go away, though. He and Angel had unfinished business to tend to.
Spike had had the chip out for a little over a month, but no one knew that yet. He'd hidden the fact from the Scoobies, mostly because of the temporary insanity that had been his Slayer obsession. She'd d hid him of it right quick, when she'd slammed the door in his face. Rupert had given Spike the extra little push back to sanity when he'd gone Ripper on him. Spike had realized then that he was being an ass. Buffy didn't want him, she never would. So he'd left town, not much having a direction, just driving.
After a few days of wandering, and a little time to think clearly, he realized why he'd fallen for Buffy. It was the same reason he'd stayed with Drusilla for so long. Both women had been links to someone else, someone who Spike had always felt the need to maintain a connection to. The fact that both Drusilla and Buffy tolerated Spike because of the same need for a connection to the same individual, didn't make Spike feel any better about himself.
Who was that someone? Angelus. It always came down to Angelus. Spike was sickened by the thought. He'd spent well over a cen as as his own vampire. Or so he'd thought. The reality of his life was that all the things he'd held onto had been reminders of his sire.
Spike had finally ended up in L.A. Why? The same reason he'd gone to L.A. after he'd found the ring of Amarra. He couldn't leave well enough alone. He'd always felt drawn to Angelus, he would always need him. Soul or no soul, it didn't matter. Spike was bound to his sire, whether he liked it or not.
After a few days, Spike had succeeded in tracking down Angel. He had told himself he just wanted to see him one last time. He'd leave before he was noticed and he'd go somewhere to try to make a new life for himself. But no, fate had laughed in Spike's face and Angel had run into him, literally earlier that night. He'd lied and told Angel it was a fluke they'd run into each other. The Pouff had been too lost in his own broodiness to suspect otherwise and had let him go.
Spike had been surprised by the fact that he hadn't gotten pounded into the ground instead. He should have been grateful for the reprieve and left town, but he hadn't. No, rather than do the intelligent thing, he pulled the same stalker act that he'd pulled far too many times with the Slayer. He'd followed Angel back to his hotel and now he was watching him. Just a few more minutes, Spike kept telling himself now. Just a little longer, then he'd leave. § 4 ??? |? Äz?? Five\ ??d ?Cordelia, Wesley and Gunn left around midnight. Angel walked them out, to make sure they at least got to their vehicles safely. As they drove off, he returned to the hotel to clean up before he went to bed.
He had to admit, it hadn't been a horrible night, really. He'd missed the past few weeks. He wasn't really sure what to think of Cordelia's present to him, though. Bunny slippers? Definitely a bit of human culture he'd never understood, but he was pretty sure they had been a gag gift.
He gathered up his other gifts. Wesley had given him a book of poetry, W.B. Yeats. Angel had been thrilled, Yeats was one of his favorite poets. Gunn had given him a very antique-looking battle axe, a gift he'd also loved. He'd broken his favorite battle axe a few days earlier when he and Gunn had cleared out a nearby warehouse which had become a vampire nest.
He put the axe in his weapons room and then returned to the lobby. He finished cleaning up the dishes and wrapping paper and was about to take the poetry book up to his room, when he remembered the slippers. They were staring back at him. He shuddered; they were creepy. He decided they would stay on the couch. Fgrateful, because he was grateful for their friendships.
Spike watched through one of the windows of the Hyperion as Angel's pets threw him a birthday party. He could tell that his sire was none too thrilled about it, but he was putting on a good show. Spike wished they would all just fucking go away, though. He and Angel had unfinished business to tend to.
Spike had had the chip out for a little over a month, but no one knew that yet. He'd hidden the fact from the Scoobies, mostly because of the temporary insanity that had been his Slayer obsession. She'd cured him of it right quick, when she'd slammed the door in his face. Rupert had given Spike the extra little push back to sanity when he'd gone Ripper on him. Spike had realized then that he was being an ass. Buffy didn't want him, she never would. So he'd left town, not much having a direction, just driving.
After a few days of wandering, and a little time to think clearly, he realized why he'd fallen for Buffy. It was the same reason he'd stayed with Drusilla for so long. Both women had been links to someone else, someone who Spike had always felt the need to maintain a connection to. The fact that both Drusilla and Buffy tolerated Spike because of the same need for a connection to the same individual, didn't make Spike feel any better about himself.
Who was that someone? Angelus. It always came down to Angelus. Spike was sickened by the thought. He'd spent well over a century as his own vampire. Or so he'd thought. The reality of his life was that all the things he'd held onto had been reminders of his sire.
Spike had finally ended up in L.A. Why? The same reason he'd gone to L.A. after he'd found the ring of Amarra. He couldn't leave well enough alone. He'd always felt drawn to Angelus, he would always need him. Soul or no soul, it didn't matter. Spike was bound to his sire, whether he liked it or not.
After a few days, Spike had succeeded in tracking down Angel. He had told himself he just wanted to see him one last time. He'd leave before he was noticed and he'd go somewhere to try to make a new life for himself. But no, fate had laughed in Spike's face and Angel had run into him, literally earlier that night. He'd lied and told Angel it was a fluke they'd run into each other. The Pouff had been too lost in his own broodiness to suspect otherwise and had let him go.
Spike had been surprised by the fact that he hadn't gotten pounded into the ground instead. He should have been grateful for the reprieve and left town, but he hadn't. No, rather than do the intelligent thing, he pulled the same stalker act that he'd pulled far too many times with the Slayer. He'd followed Angel back to his hotel and now he was watching him. Just a few more minutes, Spike kept telling himself now. Just a little longer, then he'd leave.