Cretian Escape

Chapter 8: Hello Again


November 10, 2005

Spike wasted a maddening day hunting down Angel’s phone number. The number her finally scrounged up was an old number to Angel Investigations. That number forwarded him to Wolfram and Hart, which Spike was dumbfounded to find out was a law firm. What the bleedin’ hell was his grandsire up to hanging with blood sucking lawyers? When he asked for Angel, he was transferred to a private secretary. Definitely now, he and Angel were going to have a little share time after Buffy was saved. But for now, show time instead of share time.

Spike used his best upper crust English accent. “I’m trying to reach Angel, and I was wondering if you would be a love and help me.”

“I’m sorry. Mr. Angel is not in the office today. If you will give me your number, I can have him call you back as soon as possible, which will probably be tomorrow.”

‘That won’t bloody do,’ Spike thought. ‘Let’s try this.’ Clearing his throat, he started again. “Miss, I think the error is on my part. I forgot to tell you that my name is Rupert Giles, and this is an emergency concerning Buffy.”

“Buffy Summers?”

“Yes, that would be her.”

“Hold please.”

Her voice contained more emotion that last time. Maybe even urgency. Now the bird was catching on. Now Spike wanted to her sing the right song for her boss.

“Angel.”

Even better than the secretary, it was a “he.” The “he” whose voice Spike wanted to hear. “Well, a cheery hello to you, Peaches.”

“Yeah…no…what did you call me?”

“Peaches, ponce, poof.” Spike thought he could hear Angel grinding his teeth.

“This isn’t Giles, and you used Buffy’s name to get hold of me. So cut the crap fast. Who is this?” Angel’s voice conveyed his anger.

“Who do you think, you git? Spike. And where the fucking hell are you?”

The older vampire’s voice came across low and lethal. “Spike’s gone, and this is a very foolish prank you are playing. I can and will find you.”

“Actually, peaches, I don’t care if you believe who I am. And foolish? Just call me the king of court jesters. Go ahead, please hunt me down, run me to ground. Just get your arse to Crete. In fact, I can’t believe you’re not here already. Look, I’ll even help you find me. I’ll tell you my address and my cell number. Gotta poof pen handy?”

“Give me one reason to even speak with you. I warn you. Make it good.”

Spike hit the nearest wall with the flat of his hand in frustration. “Don’t you even care that those bleedin’ bastards have kidnapped Buffy?”

Silence passed between the two. “Buffy? Kidnapped? I’m not laughing at your sick joke. Who the fuck are you?”

Spike couldn’t believe his grandsire hadn’t known about Buffy’s kidnapping. Angel had practically haunted her when he lived in Sunnydale, and now he doesn’t even know that she had left LA? “Ok, you dense git. If you want to play Sherlock Holmes, let me give you some clues…I’m the one who double crossed you in that whole Acatha gig by teaming up with the slayer. You and the slayer were fighting it out with swords as I left with Dru.” He wanted to say that the highlight of that night was beating Angelus with a tire iron, but he’d play nice and not piss Mr. Hair Gel by the Gallon off until after Buffy was safe.

“Nice try. All you had to do was read her watcher’s journal for that information.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Trust Rupert to find out and write all the details down, even with his slayer helping a big bad. Alright, you hated it when I took the name Spike. But if you called me William, which you often did just to piss me off, I tried to kick your teeth in for it and that was on more than one occasion.”

“I’ll admit that was closer, but that could also be documented since Spike was famous for killing slayers, everything was written down about him that the watchers could find.”

Spike growled. “Now, this one Buffy would have turned so red that souldould have served as a beacon for Jupiter if she told Rups. I had come back to Sunnyhell to get a love spell to win Dru back. You, Buffy and I were standing in the magic store stealing supplies when I told you and Buffy that ‘You're *not* friends. You'll never be friends. You'll be in love till it kills you both. You'll fight, and you'll shag, and you'll hate each other till it makes you quiver, but you'll never be friends.’” It hurt. What he had told Angel and Buffy that night hurt him to the bone. Buffy and Angel’s love had lasted. This was one of those times that Spike hated being right, but if that quote convinced his grandsire of his identity, Spike considered the pain worthwhile.

Angel was silent for a moment, lost in his own memories of that night. “Whether Spike actually knew it or not, he was right. Buffy and I couldn’t just be friends back then.”

The ponce didn’t sound sad. He sounded…pleased with the memory?. Fucking git must have found a way from Buffy and him to be together without him going all Angelus. Spike closed his eyes. ‘But never friends? That was my fate with Buffy also. But with us, I was the only one in love,’ Spike painfully thought. Angel’s voice broke into his remembrance.

“I just can’t believe you’re Spike. He’s ashes.” Spike heard nothing from Angel’s end for a moment. “Whoever you are, your accent sounds too refined.”

Spike kicked himself. He couldn’t believe that he had forgotten to ce hie his accent back to his usual. “Peaches, you know I was always a bloody awful liar. Besides, my real accent was more refined, and that’s not in any watchers book. Too damn embarrassing being a poor excuse for a poet and all.”

“I still never did understand why he changed that accent.”

“Listen to the hyite.ite. You don’t use your Irish accent, do you?” Spike didn’t wait for a reply. “Ok, ok, something else I bet Giles doesn’t know. When the First Evil was on Buffy’s heels, you gave her the medallion. But before that you stuck your tongue down her throat as a poor sloppy, wet excuse of a hello, which I doubt Buffy didn’t tell her watcher. I know because even though you didn’t see me, I saw you two, and I’m still soddin’ traumatized. And that was the same medallion Buffy gave me. Same medallion I used to close the Hellmouth, and by the way, the same medallion that brought me back.”

“No, Buffy wouldn’t have told Giles about the kiss. I…you…it can’t be you.” Angel’s voice sounded cautious and incredulous all at the same time. “My luck can’t be that bad.”

Spike didn’t fail to notice that Angel had finally used “you” instead of “he.” Gotcha. “Well, it is me, you colossally hard headed wanker, and Buffy is kidnapped. Now are you going to bring your white hatted arse to Crete and come save the slayer or not?”

“I will have my plane fueled up immediately.”

“Finally the nit wit catches on. I t I think they will be expecting you, you being her knight in shining armor and all. Land in Greece and take a private boat over to Crete.”

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He didn’t come with every shot, but three of Vassilious’ visits and three more staring matches later, Buffy couldn’t stop herself from asking. Captivity seemed to work on loosening up her mouth. Well, she wasn’t known for staying clammed up. “The meet me stuff. You meant meet a slayer, right?”

His eyebrows rose as he considered the unexpected question. “No, I meant the Sunnydale Slayer.” He inclined his head slightly in deference.

Buffy turned to the wall to try to hide her sorrow at the mention of the town, and those lost. “Sunnydale is gone. Many are gone.”

“People close to you?”

“People I loved are gone.” Where the hell did that come from? What were the sedatives doing to her? She should have told him to go fuck himself, that it wasn’t any of his business. Buffy felt like she had just blackened the ones who had died during that fight, especially blackening Spike’s memory speaking of her love to this killer. How the black haired vampire must be laughing at her sentimentality.

Just the opposite. Buffy would have been surprised in the direction “this killer’s” thoughts were going. Vassilious could feel her sadness, hear her pain in what and how she talked of loved ones lost. A warrior should be more hardened. “Nevertheless, that is how you are known, slayer. I wanted to meet you, not a generic stake jabber.”

“So why does a vampire want to meet me. I should make you heave your last liquid diet on your shoes. Well, here’s hoping. Want me to tell you about all the creepy crawlies I killed over my career? Describe every vampire I have dusted?”

“Not exactly. Yes, you kill our kind, but there two of us you couldn’t kill or is it you chose not to kill? You, slayer, are different in that you have slept with two vampires and lived.”

Ah, he had finally shown his hand. So it was Angel and Spike he wanted to talk about. She didn’t think she and this creature had anything to talk about, but this may be the one subject. Judging from his tone, he looked down on both Angel and Spike for lowering themselves to sleep with not only a human, but more specifically with a slayer. “You make it sound like twenty bucks and a room in a roach motel. I didn’t just sleep with them as a one night stand.” Buffy didn’t want to mention that she had wanted her first night with Spike to be a one night stand but couldn’t stay away from the platinum blonde vampire.

“Excuse the implication.” His sarcasm dripped from his tongue. “I am just interested in the details since it is so unusual of a circumstance.”

Should she tell, would she tell? Both those vampires were dear to her heart, and she would have no one spit on their memories, but what could this hurt. She would tell the truth because she doubted that she would make it out of this alive, and she wanted the record to be set straight. “Like I said, it wasn’t a wam bam. I loved Angel …”

“Yes, we have talked briefly of Angelus.”

“No, I’m talking about Angel. Angelus is gone.” Buffy held up her hand as he started to shake his head, black hair slightly swinging. “You told me that you had met Angelus, and so have I. Angel isn’t him, nothing like him. Angel is kind, sympathic, heroic and much more. He spends every moment trying to make up for his past deeds, working to redeem himself. He was easy for me to love, and he loved me just as I loved him.”

“But he was a vampire, and you are human. In other words, with or without a soul, he is still a demon.” Vass paused and rolled his eyes to the ceiling before looking at her again. “Vampires do not overcome their demons. They are demons. There is no redemption, and a better question is why would vampires want to? They are *demons* and humans are *food.*”

Buffy tried to put her index finger in his face, but the chains wouldn’t let her move enough to make it effective. “It’s you that doesn’t get it, and that is why you are what you are, just a demon that doesn’t think beyond that. Kill, destroy, eat, fuck. Kill destroy, eat, fuck. Lust rules you. Angel uses his mind to think beyond lust and seeks redemption.”

“Redemption. Redemption. Vampires don’t redeem themselves. Why should they? Angel was just weak.” Vassilious thought for a moment, visibly collecting himself. This slayer was nothing that he had expected, thinking beyond her duty to kill, kill. Her words and ideas surprised him, and he hated to say that they also intrigued him. “Then explain your own naïve knowledge and way of thinking.”

“Next time. The medicine is making me sleepy.” She knew she was too mad to talk, and her drugged brain needed time to think. This vampire wasn’t the ordinary garden variety fang face so she needed her thoughts clear.

Vassilious was surprised how disappointed he was that the conversation was at an end. Maybe a human could be of some interest beyond dinner after all. “Of course. Until next time, little slayer.”

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November 11, 2005

Spike stood on a deserted beach waiting for Angel’s boat, and not that he would ever articulate it for anyone to hear, he was dreading his grandsire’s coming more and more with every passing minute. Not for the usual hate reason that existed between the two of them in there last meetings. As far as he was concerned, his past with the big brow was dead and buried in Sunnydale along with the rest of his past existence. This time Spike dreaded seeing Angel out of envy and a jealousy that burned like acid in his veins. Much as with Dru, Spike knew he would see Angel through the green eyes of jealousy. However, contrary to what he had done in Dru’s case, he would not fight for Buffy. If Buffy was happy with his grandsire, Spike decided he wouldn’t interfere. He would just work with the poof to get the slayer free and then be back on his solitary path, away from Buffy and all those connected to her, hiding in anonymity. Bloody hell, since Angel and Buffy would know he was back, he would have to stop dying his hair to blend in more than before if he didn’t want to be found.

Angel’s boat dropped anchor as close to the beach as possible, and a dingy gracefully landed on the beach. As expected, Angel was the first off the boat before any of his crew could secure their position. But what Spike hadn’t expected was the next passenger that Angel helped down to the ground. Cordelia. The next shock was that the poof didn’t have his trademark somber expression, leaving Spike worried about what to expect from this impromptu reunion. Accordingly, Spike fell back on his usual cocky self. “Hey, Peaches, Cordelia. Been a long time. In fact, cheerleader, I never told you what good taste you had in dumping Harris.” Lame, but he had to say something while he was still trying to readjust to the new player in the show. He hadn’t expected or wanted to see any of the Scoobies or ex-Scoobies. Just Angel was enough to deal with.

“Majorly old news but thanks. Actually, no ‘thanks’ to you. I lost a bet. I didn’t think it would really be you.” Cordelia tilted her head. “Neither you nor Buffy can stay dead, can you? While I was glad that Buffy came back, but you? I’m trying to decide between wearing my cross, getting my stake, ottertter yet, do both along with a lighter.”

“Nice to be loved, pet.” Spike turned to his grandsire, who was actually smiling, a down right creepy sight to behold. “Angel, how’s the brooding business these days?”

The atmosphere was crackling with electricity between the two vampires as it always had in the past. As a result, Angel thought long and hard before speaking. “Spike, I can’t believe what I am going to say this, and hell, I may choke on it, but I’m pleased your back. That is even though you will probably drive me insane before all is said and done.”

Spike hid behind a smirk. “That’s my job of choice, driving you up and checking you into the loony bin.” A friendly Angel? Now Spike had no idea what was going on. Was he in the right dimension?

“No way, Spike, I’m not letting Angel go to a loony bin or trash bin or whatever.” Cordelia looked at Angel with a smile. “I’d want him even if he was crazier than he already is now.”

Angel frowned back at her. “You say things like that to irritate me, don’t you?”

“Absolutely.” Cordelia raised her chin up and kissed Angel on the lips.

“What the fucking hell?” Spike pulled his arm back and let fly, punching Angel in the eye. Angel stumbled back as Spike advanced. “You bleeding bastard…”

Angel got in a punch to Spike’s jaw before Cordy boldly stepped between the two. “Stop…STOP! Mike Tyson much?”

Angel gave into Cordelia’s directive first and put up his hand in a gesture trying to stop Spike. “What the hell? You’re the one that asked me here? Something about Buffy being kidnapped.” Angel watched Spike, jaw clenched and fists balled so tight that his knuckles were white, still trying to get around Cordelia at Angel. Wanting some time to cool things down, Angel let her stay between, knowing his Victorian raised grandchilde wouldn’t hit Cordelia unless Cordelia were to attack him.

“Ok, boys! And I do mean play ground type boys.” Cordelia raised her hands up in each of their faces. “You are officially in the non-punch department of this sandy beach. Now can we stop and find out what Spike is so pissed about?” She looked between Spike holding his chin and Angel with his hand over his eye. “Not that I don’t think this competition of pent up manlyhood between you two isn’t long overdue but how exactly is this helping Buffy. And in case you two haven’t noticed, you both are on the same save-the-world-from-evil side now.” All the while, the blonde vampire glared between Angel and herself. She watched his eyes darted back and forth until a hundred watt bulb came on. “You hit Angel because of me?” In typical Cordy style she stepped close to Spike and pointed her finger in his face. “You, mister, think Angel’s cheating on Buffy with me, don’t you?”

Angel stepped up, also. “Cordelia, I don’t think sticking you finger in his face is…What?”

After she gave Spike a “don’t you dare pull anything” look, Cordelia turned to Angel. “I know why he’s so pissed. If you two pig headed vampires’ roles were reversed, I’d hope you, Angel, would act the same for me as Spike just acted over Buffy.” Cordelia turned back to Spike. “Before you do anything else stupid, why did you think Buffy was with Angel anyhow?”

Taking a step back, Spike tried to shake off his aggressive instincts enough so that he could think clearly. “They said that a slayer was in LA with the poof.” Spike felt a great need to light up a cigarette but wanted to keep his hands free.

Cordelia also tried to relax. She wanted to touch Angel for support but suspected that Spike was still volatile for such a show of affection. “What exactly did ‘they’ say? Did they call her by name?”

“Well…er…no, but they said a blonde slayer was with Angel.”

Now Cordelia knew Spike was genuinely upset, not just angry, when he didn’t call Angel any of his pet names. “That would be Cella. Giles sent her to LA so that she could apprentice under Angel.” Cordelia inhaled a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Now with that settled, we can get back to where we left off before Spike went all Lancelot over Guinevere. Where are we staying, and what’s up with Buffy this time?”

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Wary of hotels or any public venues because he had a strong suspicion that the clan was on the lookout for his grandsire, Spike had not made any kind of hotel reservation for Angel. Through his connections, he found a couple that would oblige, a human man and wife, who had lost their only son to the Sepatucci clan. When asked, they had no hesitancy to assist them go against the ambitious vampires by offering the use of their villa. Spike had moved in the night before and now all three of them were settled and sitting at the dining room table.

Angel looked at the blonde sitting opposite of him up and down, still looking for any discrepancies. He was ninety-nine percent sure that it was his grandchilde, but he was still a tad skeptical. “Spike, where have you been?”

Spike had been waiting for this question and was surprised that it had taken so long to be asked. “I’ve just been on an indefinite leave. To tell the truth…”

Head tilted to the side, Cordelia looked at him skeptically. “Which you rarely do.”

As an acknowledgement, Spike gave her one of his rare, true smile. “…to tell the truth, I’m not sure that I wanted to come back.”

Not a Spike-like comment, especially with Buffy as an incentive to come back. Definitely intrigued but Angel decided to leave that last comment for the present. “So how was hell, Spike?”

“They said they are looking forward to your next stay.” Spike took a drag off his fag. “Actually, I wasn’t in hell. I was stuck in that bleedin’ medallion.”

Both vampires’ next thoughts followed similar paths about how their roles could have changed. Angel could have been in that medallion instead of Spike.

Shaking himself, Angel was now sure it was the real deal Spike and thought it a good idea to move on. “You know that Giles, of course, wrote everything down about the end of Sunnydale. But then he broke with tradition and put it out for people to see how the first evil was defeated. There is a lot in there about you. I didn’t want to believe Buffy when she told me that you had changed, but she was right. You did…er…have changed. What you did was heroic.”

Too close to being embarrassed, Spike shifted the crsatrsation off of himself and onto Angel. He made a small motion with the hand holding the cigarette between Angel and Cordelia. “So poof, what about the pesky happiness clause.”

Cordy sat forward in her chair, eager to explain. “Angel didn’t think he was worthy to get the clause removed from the curse. As a result, he never really tried. So the PTC (Powers that are Cordy ) found a way instead. I found some gypsies that would hear me out about all Angel had done to redeem himself, and they took the clause out of the curse. Plus, they agreed that no one wanted to see Angelus again. Now he gets happy all the time.”

“Cordy!” Now it was Angel’s turn to get embarrassed.

Laughing, Spike slapped Angel on the back. “You deserve it, mate. There shouldn’t even be a word such as celibacy.”

At dawn they went to their separate bedrooms. As Spike watched Cordelia and Angel enter their room together, he let his thoughts wandered to the ramifications of Cordelia in the poof’s bed instead of Buffy. His relief was enough to just about bring him to his knees when he entered his bedroom out of the view of anyone else. Buffy wasn’t with the precious Angel. He didn’t know how that had not come about, but he didn’t care. Buffy wasn’t with the precious Angel. That would be his mantra for the next couple of nights. He knew that now in all likelihood that over the last two years she had found someone else that wasn’t Angel or him for that matter, but for the moment, he didn’t care. Buffy wasn’t with Angel.

His dreams that day left him with a feeling of contentment with all things. He dreamed of saying goodnight to Angel and Cordelia and then walking into his bedroom. Buffy was waiting for him with a warm smile and a short, sexy night gown. The scene felt domestic and satisfying, and he felt whole.

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TBC

I never could never stand Angel’s curse’s happiness clause. ; )