Deja Vu - the updates
folder
AtS AU/AR › Slash - Male/Male › Angel(us)/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
52
Views:
4,140
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
AtS AU/AR › Slash - Male/Male › Angel(us)/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
52
Views:
4,140
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 112
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: 28 May 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 112
Caritas
**************
They landed with a loud thud and squeal of brakes as Angel brought the car to rest inches from the bar. Spike cursed as he was thrown forward, bumping his forehead on the dashboard in the process.
A creaking sound, followed by a klunk, indicated something had come loose. Spike guessed it was the front bumper.
“My car!” Angel cried.
Someone screamed.
There was another klunk and a crash as the stage collapsed behind them.
“My club!” someone shrieked.
“Bloody Hell!” Spike exclaimed, glancing over his shoulder. “You all right, Luv?” he asked Fred.
Wesley had his arm around her. She was smiling. They both were. She was okay, probably hadn’t even noticed they’d arrived.
“Your club?” Lorne asked from the back seat.
Angel got out of the car and peered underneath, inspecting the damage.
“The muffler’s gone! Why didn’t you tell me this was gonna happen?”
“I did, Pet. You weren’t listening.”
Spike turned in the direction of the earlier voice and started to wonder if that bump had given him concussion. He stared at the guy standing behind the bar before turning to look over his shoulder again. Nope, he was still there.
“Er, Wesley…”
*********************
“You do think he’ll like it, don’t you?” Cordelia asked as they emerged from the store entrance onto the street. “I mean he can’t wear black all the time. I keep telling him he needs to lighten up. He’s a winter. There’s more than black and charcoal to his colour palette.”
She tapped her finger on the box she was carrying.
“This’ll flatter his skin tones,” she said. “He’ll thank me for it.”
Doyle wondered which of them she was trying to convince.
“I’m sure he’ll love it, Darlin’,” he replied.
He looked up and down the street trying to spot a cab. One passed on the other side of the street but was unable to turn in the heavy, holiday season traffic.
“But?”
Two cabs with passengers went by.
“I didn’t say, ‘But’.”
“You didn’t have to,” she replied. “I could hear it in the tone of your voice.”
A cab was pulling up to drop someone off outside the next store along. If they hurried they might just get lucky.
“You don’t like it, do you?”
Her voice caught.
“Oh dear and I so wanted to get him something nice…”
She sounded like she was about to cry. Doyle turned toward her and slipped his right arm around her shoulders.
“Hey, don’t be upsetting yourself now, Darlin’…” he said, planting a kiss on her cheek.
Damn! The cab had got away.
“Tell me honestly…” she sniffed.
Doyle handed her the clean, white handkerchief he’d taken to keeping in his pocket especially for occasions like this.
“It’s not that I don’t like it,” he began, wondering how he should phrase it. “It’s just that… well…”
“Well what?”
He took a deep breath.
“You know Angel, always rushing off to save some poor soul… I’m just not sure how practical a pale pink sweater is in his line of work.”
She frowned.
“It’s not pale pink, it’s ice pink,” she corrected.
There was a difference?
“The image consultant said it was perfect to bring out his sensitive side.”
“You don’t think he might prefer summat a bit more… er… mascu…”
“Oh you mean the blood stains’ll be hard to shift,” she interrupted before he could finish the sentence.
Doyle breathed a sigh of relief.
“I hadn’t thought of that…” she added.
Out of the corner of his eye Doyle spotted a cab with its light on. At last!
“P’raps he could keep it for best.”
Doyle raised his left arm to beckon the driver.
“Let’s go back,” Cordelia said, slipping free of his other arm and turning toward the store entrance. “I’ll change it for the burgundy one. I know he’ll like that.”
*********************
“Er, Wesley?” Spike began. “You might wanna take a look at this…”
There were two Lornes - one behind the bar, another in the car.
“I thought you said it wasn’t possible for…”
“The suspension’s shot!” Angel interrupted, kicking the front wheel. “Just look at it!”
“Never mind that now, Luv,” Spike said. “I think we have more important things to worry about…”
“What can be more important than my car?”
“… like the end of the world as we know it…”
“Huh?”
“What was that, Spike?” Wesley said, helping Fred out of the car and onto her feet.
“Oh, I see,” Wesley said as he looked up.
Lorne followed Fred out of the car and stood beside her and Wesley.
“Oh my!” the Lorne by the bar said. “Don’t tell me, you’re the long lost twin I never knew I had.”
“Kinda,” the other Lorne said.
“Well I never, we even sound the same!” Lorne Mark One exclaimed.
Lorne Mark Two turned toward Wesley.
“Clearly we’re not identical though…” Lorne Mark One continued. “I mean, Honey, just look at that outfit.”
“Wes, you wanna explain this?” Lorne Mark Two asked.
Lorne Mark One laughed.
“That’s easy to explain,” he said. “I got all the style genes.”
He came out from behind the bar…
“I wonder what gifts nature endowed you with?”
… and took a step toward them.
“Let me get a better look at you, Handsome,” he purred.
“No, wait!” Spike yelled.
There was something unsettling about the way the two Lornes were looking each other up and down.
“Hold it right there. You mustn’t touch him.”
Spike was no prude but what these two were contemplating was downright unnatural.
“Whoa! Okay, Sweetie, I’m not moving,” Lorne Mark One said, raising his hands in the air. “Not touching, just looking. Someone wanna tell me what’s going on?”
*****************
(See www.foreverfandom.net for the rest of this story.)
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: 28 May 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 112
Caritas
**************
They landed with a loud thud and squeal of brakes as Angel brought the car to rest inches from the bar. Spike cursed as he was thrown forward, bumping his forehead on the dashboard in the process.
A creaking sound, followed by a klunk, indicated something had come loose. Spike guessed it was the front bumper.
“My car!” Angel cried.
Someone screamed.
There was another klunk and a crash as the stage collapsed behind them.
“My club!” someone shrieked.
“Bloody Hell!” Spike exclaimed, glancing over his shoulder. “You all right, Luv?” he asked Fred.
Wesley had his arm around her. She was smiling. They both were. She was okay, probably hadn’t even noticed they’d arrived.
“Your club?” Lorne asked from the back seat.
Angel got out of the car and peered underneath, inspecting the damage.
“The muffler’s gone! Why didn’t you tell me this was gonna happen?”
“I did, Pet. You weren’t listening.”
Spike turned in the direction of the earlier voice and started to wonder if that bump had given him concussion. He stared at the guy standing behind the bar before turning to look over his shoulder again. Nope, he was still there.
“Er, Wesley…”
*********************
“You do think he’ll like it, don’t you?” Cordelia asked as they emerged from the store entrance onto the street. “I mean he can’t wear black all the time. I keep telling him he needs to lighten up. He’s a winter. There’s more than black and charcoal to his colour palette.”
She tapped her finger on the box she was carrying.
“This’ll flatter his skin tones,” she said. “He’ll thank me for it.”
Doyle wondered which of them she was trying to convince.
“I’m sure he’ll love it, Darlin’,” he replied.
He looked up and down the street trying to spot a cab. One passed on the other side of the street but was unable to turn in the heavy, holiday season traffic.
“But?”
Two cabs with passengers went by.
“I didn’t say, ‘But’.”
“You didn’t have to,” she replied. “I could hear it in the tone of your voice.”
A cab was pulling up to drop someone off outside the next store along. If they hurried they might just get lucky.
“You don’t like it, do you?”
Her voice caught.
“Oh dear and I so wanted to get him something nice…”
She sounded like she was about to cry. Doyle turned toward her and slipped his right arm around her shoulders.
“Hey, don’t be upsetting yourself now, Darlin’…” he said, planting a kiss on her cheek.
Damn! The cab had got away.
“Tell me honestly…” she sniffed.
Doyle handed her the clean, white handkerchief he’d taken to keeping in his pocket especially for occasions like this.
“It’s not that I don’t like it,” he began, wondering how he should phrase it. “It’s just that… well…”
“Well what?”
He took a deep breath.
“You know Angel, always rushing off to save some poor soul… I’m just not sure how practical a pale pink sweater is in his line of work.”
She frowned.
“It’s not pale pink, it’s ice pink,” she corrected.
There was a difference?
“The image consultant said it was perfect to bring out his sensitive side.”
“You don’t think he might prefer summat a bit more… er… mascu…”
“Oh you mean the blood stains’ll be hard to shift,” she interrupted before he could finish the sentence.
Doyle breathed a sigh of relief.
“I hadn’t thought of that…” she added.
Out of the corner of his eye Doyle spotted a cab with its light on. At last!
“P’raps he could keep it for best.”
Doyle raised his left arm to beckon the driver.
“Let’s go back,” Cordelia said, slipping free of his other arm and turning toward the store entrance. “I’ll change it for the burgundy one. I know he’ll like that.”
*********************
“Er, Wesley?” Spike began. “You might wanna take a look at this…”
There were two Lornes - one behind the bar, another in the car.
“I thought you said it wasn’t possible for…”
“The suspension’s shot!” Angel interrupted, kicking the front wheel. “Just look at it!”
“Never mind that now, Luv,” Spike said. “I think we have more important things to worry about…”
“What can be more important than my car?”
“… like the end of the world as we know it…”
“Huh?”
“What was that, Spike?” Wesley said, helping Fred out of the car and onto her feet.
“Oh, I see,” Wesley said as he looked up.
Lorne followed Fred out of the car and stood beside her and Wesley.
“Oh my!” the Lorne by the bar said. “Don’t tell me, you’re the long lost twin I never knew I had.”
“Kinda,” the other Lorne said.
“Well I never, we even sound the same!” Lorne Mark One exclaimed.
Lorne Mark Two turned toward Wesley.
“Clearly we’re not identical though…” Lorne Mark One continued. “I mean, Honey, just look at that outfit.”
“Wes, you wanna explain this?” Lorne Mark Two asked.
Lorne Mark One laughed.
“That’s easy to explain,” he said. “I got all the style genes.”
He came out from behind the bar…
“I wonder what gifts nature endowed you with?”
… and took a step toward them.
“Let me get a better look at you, Handsome,” he purred.
“No, wait!” Spike yelled.
There was something unsettling about the way the two Lornes were looking each other up and down.
“Hold it right there. You mustn’t touch him.”
Spike was no prude but what these two were contemplating was downright unnatural.
“Whoa! Okay, Sweetie, I’m not moving,” Lorne Mark One said, raising his hands in the air. “Not touching, just looking. Someone wanna tell me what’s going on?”
*****************
(See www.foreverfandom.net for the rest of this story.)