Driving You Starkers
Pairings: Spuffy(ish), Bangel(ish)
Timeline: Missing scenes of Angel and Spike in Season 5 from "Just Rewards" to "Destiny" when Spike was still a ghost.
Disclaimer: Don't own Angel. This is just me taking it upon myself to share the lost Spangel scenes that we all know happened lol.
A/N: Because I love Spangel and Spike and Spuffel and this was necessary. ;)
Open to any OCCness warnings/thoughts!
Just Rewards
Angel drove rapidly down the highway, motivated with purpose. In hero-mode. All his thoughts on taking down Hainsley and putting an end to his necromancy. Enforcing his way of doing things. Changing Wolfram & Hart. Making a difference.
"A whole bleeding car lot, filled with all the sports car you fancy. The great hero. Gets in the belly in the beast, so long as the beast comes with gifts. Nothing but the best and grandest to bag you. Might crack another frown line."
Also trying to block out his annoying, very annoying company.
"And here you are. Riding in alone in a Camero and a hundred-dollar suit even though you got the whole of Evil Inc. at your back. Trying to prove to yourself you're any different from the rest of them."
It inched close to a nerve. "Alone was the idea." Angel said through gritted teeth.
"And miss the biggest joke of all?" Spike scoffed. " 'Oh! Angel! Riding in to dish out justice and strike fear in the baddies with his 'CEO of all evilness' holier-than-thou speech talk. " He mocked. "God, that's convincing."
Even closer to a nerve. "Not as convincing as a dead vampire with nothing better than do." The older vampire sniped, annoyance rising.
Spike snorted. "Fair's fair, mate. Your fault this happened. This is to be my hell, I'm gonna bloody right make it yours."
A nerve struck. Desperate anger and mental distress assaulted Angel, imagining being haunted by the Spike for all eternity, but he only stared stonily ahead.
"Wondering which of the ways I'm gonna go about that. So many buttons under that blank block of yours. Not as tough as you look ..." The bleached blonde trailed off, scrutinizing him through narrowed eyes. "Maybe I should just watch, let you do it for me. Already a bloody parody of yourself."
Please. Angel seethed internally, but still kept his eyes fixed firmly ahead, refusing to acknowledge Spike. Spike wasn't alive. Spike wasn't even here. He was just a bunch of frequencies. Nothing.
"No ... No, I could do better. Something ... something real good. Something that will drive you completely out of your gourd ..." Spike mused with feeling, thinking.
Angel resolutely ignored him. Don't give him a reaction. That's what Spike wanted. He wasn't even worth that. He had more important things to worry about than—
"I remember this one time with Buffy ... well, times ... She came down to my crypt. And oh, what a night that was. Among other nights."
Angel went rigid. Hand turning white-knuckled on the sterling wheel.
"But that night ... Shagged me good, she did. Couldn't form a single thought for two hours. Couldn't move for bloody four." Spike recounted, feeling in his voice.
Savage, unadulterated rage brewed in the vampire. He didn't even notice as the sterling wheel under his grip began to dent.
"There's just nothing like it, y'know?" Wistfulness entered Spike's voice. "The things she would do ... the way she moves, to feel her, feel her beneath, the sounds she would make when she ... heh." He smirked at him smugly.
Jealousy, hot and pulsing, spiked in Angel to a very dangerous level. Disgusting images assaulted him and he clenched his teeth, seeing nothing but red.
"A bloody honor, that was. Best I ever had. Wouldn't trade it for the world." Spike carried on, casual. "Glad I got so lucky. Didn't up like some other poor bastard who—"
A nerve exploded. Angel jerked the sterling wheel in fury, a part of it crushing under his hand as he crossed into the wrong lane. Cars honked and shouts sounded and he almost went over the sidewalk, crashing straight into a group of pedestrians. He quickly turned the wheel in a flurry and barely righted himself again.
"Hey! Bloody hell!" Spike said in alarm. "Watch it. Could've hit the granny holding the bags. Or the soccer mom. Girl scout, perhaps." He looked at him flatly. "That what you do now? Wolfram & Hart's poster boy?"
Seeing his innocent reaction only made an incensed Angel angrier. "One more word ..." He said dangerously.
"You'll what? Turn this car around?" Spike snorted. "Thought we're supposed to be on a hero trip. Checking the bad necromancer. Showing him the big man's got the power." He half-stated, half-sneered.
Rage boiled in his blood, made worse with the fact he was right. Giving the darkest of glares on Spike, the souled vampire turned back to the now slightly crushed wheel.
" ... There was another time with Buffy." Spike started up again after a couple moments, nonchalant. "Wasn't the crypt this time. To be fair I don't quite remember where, it was all very..."
Angel gritted his teeth in jealous fury, helpless to do anything but listen as Spike proceeded into another long, agonizingly long, graphic story.
He'd been to Hell.
This was worse.
####
Angel was back into his penthouse, situating himself comfortably under the covers as he sighed blearily. He felt exhausted, drained by more than the fight of Hainsley. The stress of Spike haunting and tormenting him every moment was too much. He was already dealing with the weight of losing Connor, and now the weight of the Wolfram & Hart. He felt every one of his two hundred fifty years. He'd give anything just to ...
"Bloody brilliant, the digs they gave you. Came with a view and all that gaudy flair you like. Fits like a bloody glove. A little too well, one might say."
No, no, no! Not again! Deja vu in the most infuriating way seized Angel. "Spike. What did I say before about here being off-limits?" He hissed.
"Don't care what you say. Never did." He replied flatly, walking over. "Always had it all big and lavish, didn't you? That old Crawford mansion in Sunnydale ... that villa back in Transylvania ... The walking vampire cliché."
"Cliché? You lived in a crypt!" Angel said in outrage.
"Never seemed to bother Buffy all too much." Spike answered easily. "I'd wager she had a lot more fun nights there than she did in yours." He gave a meaningful look.
The souled vampire seethed, disgust rising in his chest. "Get out of here, Spike." He growled.
"Don't be that way. Thought we got a good thing going, helping you the way I did with Hainsley. Figured you could use a little ghost vampire-to-vampire company." At Angel's glare, the bleached blonde gave a nonchalant shrug. "Alright, I was bored. Gotta find something to do with my afterlife, don't I?"
"Figure it out. Just don't use mine." Why wasn't he leaving already?
Spike snorted. "Only thing I can do, mate. Still of the not at rest thing thanks to you and yours." He muttered. "Could've just taken you over, if I wanted. Taken out of this fix. All problems would end."
"That a regret, Spike?"
"Bloody right it is. Just had to turn over that new leaf. Pity." He replied, tone flat. After a moment, he smirked a little. "Not all bad though, is it? There's still that 'haunting-you-till-you-go-insane' thing. Annoying you 'till you pop? Might not need no other purpose than that."
Angel groaned and laid back down. "That's the only reason you existed since the day Dru brought you home, Spike." He muttered. He turned his back on him, squeezing his eyes shut. Desperately hoping if he ignored him, he would go away.
"Must be why I'm so good at it, then." He deadpanned. Silence slashed through the room. " ... Y'know, Buffy and I, beds they were never really our thing. Up against walls, on the floors, on tables sure, but ... Best for the bed though really. I remember the one time we—"
Just as Angel had started to entertain the idea Spike had finally left and let him get some sleep, every word came with a torturous images and his hopes weren't just dashed. They were consumed in fire. "Spike ..." He said his name like a death wish, low and menacing.
"Don't like your bedtime story?" Spike said innocently.
Angel fought to stay in control, but the pictures in his head were determined on infuriating him. Buffy and Spike doing ... Spike touching her, seeing ... He couldn't ... Why?! The vampire barely bit back a snarl of jealous rage.
"Haven't even gotten to the best part yet." He could hear the smug look on his face. "See, the bed—"
Something snapped then and the souled vampire was out of the bed and on his feet, prowling over to Spike. "Talk about her that way one more time ..." He began, voice filled with quiet fury.
"You'll what?" Spike stared back boldly, unafraid by the Angelus-esque look in his eye. "You can't do anything to me. And that's the best part, innit it? I could tell you every single detail of the Buffy and Spike sexcapades. Drive you bug-eating mad. Yeah, and you wouldn't be able to do a ruddy thing." His glee grew with every word and he smirked triumphantly. "My hell, your hell, Angel. Think I'm just gonna roll over in this Ghost of Vampires Past, well then you are one sorry—"
There was whooshing sound and Spike disappeared. Angel still glared at the spot he had been at it, shaking a little with rage, frustration and distress palpable.
He went to lay back down, filled with rage and jealousy and disgust and everything in between. Angel couldn't even be relieved that Spike was finally gone. He'd back. He'd always be back. Annoying him the way he always had ... and now with the worst ammo.
He didn't sleep well that night, images of Buffy and Spike tangled up in each other as they kissed and moved together. He knew that nightmare wouldn't be the last.
A/N: ... Come on. You can't say Spike didn't play this 'game' with Angel, could you? LOL. Luckily for us (and unfortunately for Angel), I'm gonna post more Angel "behind-the-scenes" one-shot chapters of Spike on his cruel and hilarious game with all the Spangel banter and precarious Angel sanity you can ask for. I hope this first one was funny! :D