Once Upon a Time
By Kara
Pairing: Spike/Angel
Spoilers: Through "Not Fade Away"

"Remind me why I let you pick where we're going again?" Angel complained for what seemed like the hundredth time since they got on the 405.

"Because I saved your arse from the dragon, remember?" Spike looked over his shoulder before maneuvering the car into the next lane. It'd actually been the army of Slayers that showed up that saved their asses, but he wasn't about to admit that. Especially not to His Poncy Highness himself.

"So we're driving to" Angel glanced at the interchange as they moved onto the on ramp of the next freeway "Orange County for dinner at eight? I thought you said they didn't have culture in Orange County."

"I said they didn't have a reason to live in Orange County. Plenty of reasons to visit, mate." Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, he fished around in the pocket of his duster with his other. Once he found what he needed, he handed it to Angel. "Here. Put this on." There was a moment of silence. Spike glanced at Angel out of the corner of his eye, not surprised to see the dumbfounded look on his face. "It's a blindfold. Not like you've never seen one of those before."

"But that wasn't while we were driving," Angel replied, turning the blindfold over and over in his hands. "It's smells like mint."

"It's sposed to reduce the bags under your eyes. Dawn sent it to me as a 'congrats you're alive again' prezzie. You gonna wear it or not?"

A long drawn-out sigh was Angel's only answer. The next time Spike looked over, the blindfold was secured over Angel's eyes. "There's a love," he said, reaching out to pat Angel's thigh. Too bad he didn't have one of those digital camera things. But there would be time enough for blackmail photos once they reached their destination.

It didn't take too long before they were pulling into the parking lot. Angel had been silent the rest of the way, and from the sound of snoring coming from the passenger seat, he'd probably fallen asleep somewhere around Knott Avenue. The git had forgotten how much energy it took to be among the living. They'd had a lot of habits to change once the whole Shanshu thing left them both gasping in the middle of an alleyway after the big battle. It was a shame that he had to wake Angel up, but they did have dinner reservations. "C'mon, mate. We're here."

Angel woke up with a start, head turning in a panic. "It's all dark!"

Spike reached out a hand to calm him down. "Easy, Angel. 'S just the blindfold. Remember? You can take it off soon, I promise."

"Where are we?" Angel rubbed his eyes through the blindfold. "It sounds like we're in a parking lot."

"That's 'cause we are." Spike got out of the car, moving around to open Angel's door for him. "But before we go in, you've gotta put something on."

"If it involves leather and chains--"

Spike threw a bundle at Angel's chest before grabbing his own out of the back seat. "It's a tshirt, you stupid git. Just put it on." Before Angel could say anything else, Spike cut in, "No, it won't mess your hair up, just put the bloody thing on." He couldn't help chuckling a little once Angel got the shirt on. His own was just as bad, but at least they wouldn't be the only ones wearing them. And red really was his color.

Once they were situated, Spike locked the car and then took Angel by the hand. Angel squirmed for a while as they walked, head whipping around as if he was trying to hear if anyone was walking near them.

"What's wrong, Angel?" Angel's hand tensed in his. "It's almost dark, mate. Nothin' to be scared of." Not that he'd make fun of Angel for that. They'd both had enough of walking from shadow to shadow the first few days after the alleyway. Spike still had problems with windows sometimes, not flinching away from whatever sunlight he saw.

"But people might see. They don't do that kinda thing in Orange County." Angel tugged on his hand.

"You didn't mind it in St. Petersburg, love." Spike squeezed his hand back. "Trust me, mate. It's okay here."

Once they finally reached their destination, Spike slipped the blindfold off of Angel's face. Angel stared, as he looked around them, eyes wide with disbelief. "You brought me to Disneyland?" Angel looked around some more, and Spike could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. "You brought me to Disneyland on Gay Pride day?"

Spike pulled off his button-down shirt to reveal his own red shirt, the words "Pride Day 2004" scrawled on them in white. "Thought you could use a bit of happily ever after, with the dragons an' all that rot." For a long time, Angel just stared at him. It was the same look Angelus used to give him before he was whipped or beaten for something foolish or another, as if he couldn't quite decide what to do with him.

"So you brought us to Gay Pride day at Disneyland," Angel repeated. He looked around at all the other people. Most of them were wearing the same red shirt, many of them holding hands. It wasn't all gay couples. There were even family groups walking around, including two men holding the hands of a little boy between the two of them. To Spike's surprise, Angel smiled at him, a smile that he hadn't seen for a long time, if ever within recent memory. Then Angel actually reached out to touch his face in one of those huge hands, drawing him close to kiss him. The kiss was worth the hassle alone, in Spike's eyes.

A little while later, they were strolling down Main Street USA with throngs of other red-shirted people. "Y'think they realize that they're all just fodder?" he asked as they stopped at the ice cream shop.

"Fodder?" Angel's eyes were mesmerized by the waffle cones in the window.

"Red shirts. Anyone who wears a red shirt always dies?" Spike huffed impatiently. "Didn't you ever watch any Original Series? Wait, you never lived with Harris and Andrew, so you didn't have to." Angel's eyes still hadn't left the employee making the waffle cones. Now she was dipping waffle bowls in chocolate, and then rolling them in nuts. "Want an ice cream, love?"

"Peanut butter?" The look on Angel's face darkened for a moment. "Yeah, peanut butter."

Two ice creams later, they were approaching Sleeping Beauty's castle. "Gateway to Fantasyland," Angel read the plaque on the wall of the castle. He surveyed the stone walls. "Not much of a gateway to me. The drawbridge probably doesn't even work. And the walls aren't high enough. There's no way you could defend this place."

"Not many ways to defend a lot of places, but we still managed to do it," Spike reminded him. "Look, the wishing well. Gotta make a wish, mate. It's tradition."

"Since when?" Angel asked as Spike dragged him over to Snow White's well.

"Since now." Spike shoved a penny in his hand. "Go on, tosser. Make a wish."

Angel got that funny little smile on his face, the same one as earlier. "Don't need to," he replied, ducking his head. Spike looked around to see if anyone had heard them, but no one seemed overly interested in the two of them by the well. Satisfied that no one had overheard, he snuck a kiss.

"Same here, love," he said gruffly. "Same here."

They'd arrived just after six, so they had a couple hours to play before dinner. They'd both agreed to steer clear of the Haunted Mansion, especially when Spike learned you took an elevator down into the basement before you got on the ride. Splash Mountain was great until Spike's water fight with the log in front of them got Angel's hair wet. And by the end of Pirates of the Caribbean, Spike was wishing he'd never taught Angel the words to "Yo Ho, Yo Ho." When he dragged Angel off the ride and down a side street in the French Quarter, everyone around them looked more than relieved.

"Eight o'clock. Time for dinner?" Their hands swung between the two of them as they walked the narrow streets. Angel kept looking around as he tried to take everything in. He looked like an attention span-deprived five year old, but he looked cute doing it, so Spike didn't mind too much. And it was hard to ignore the glitter of the pirate shop.

"Almost. Gotta check our reservation." They stopped in front of the Blue Bayou, where a crowd of hopefuls waited for a table. They made their way towards the front, where a host looked expectantly at them. "Reservation for eight, under the name William. For two, please." It was easier than he thought to say please. It was easier still if he brought back the memories of the William who'd been, instead of the Spike who took over. Luckily, there wasn't too much of Liam that seemed to be left. Angel was still a giant broody dork of epic proportions, but he hadn't reverted to some of the same habits of his human side the way Spike had.

"Right this way, sirs," the man said before leading them to their table. The small table for two was right at the front of the restaurant, overlooking the same indoor waterway that they'd drifted down only half an hour before. With the swamp noises and soft rush of water, Spike could almost believe he was in the bayou somewhere, minus the mosquitoes. And the stars in the sky, since the fake night sky on the ceiling didn't quite do the real thing justice.

The waiter brought them each a soda. "A nice pint would've tasted better, but this park is pretty dry," Spike remarked as they sipped their drinks. He noticed that Angel was giving him a goofy look--a sappier version of the silly little smile he'd had earlier at the well, and at the park gate. "What?"

Angel laughed. "You. This. Us being romantic at the biggest kiddie park in California." Angel picked up his hand, kissing one battered knuckle. "I didn't think--" He shrugged, his voice more serious. "I didn't think there'd be a place like this for us. Something normal. Something not involving demons or hellmouths or--"

"You haven't been on Small World yet," Spike cut in, giving Angel's hand a squeeze. "Little bloody dolls, my arse. Xixor demons, the lot of 'em, right down to the beady eyes."

"You've been here before?"

Spike shrugged. "Dru thought it'd be a swank place a while back, after she got tired of New York. The gates are opened late in summer, and there's enough kiddies around…" His stomach rolled in distaste. "But that was in the pre-soul days, so we really don't have to think of all that rot…"

They were quiet for a while, but Angel didn't let go of his hand. Angel's eyes focused on a family group sitting next to them, two dads and the little blond boy from earlier. One of the men was trying to show the little boy how to hold his knife and fork properly, but the boy kept picking up his chicken stars with his fingers, grinning at both of his parents. When the other man reprimanded him, the little boy offered up one of the chicken stars repentantly.

"I forgot today," Angel finally said. "Today was the first day I managed to forget everything, and it was…good." He sounded surprised by that fact. It took both of them long enough to sleep through the night. Spike still saw Charlie's face on the insides of his eyelids. Or Wesley, who never made it to the final battle. Or the young girls who had fallen at the feet of their enemies, most of them still children themselves.

"Innocent. We were like that, once upon a time. Just thought I'd give you a bit of that back today." Spike looked down at their intertwined hands until Angel's free hand forced his face up.

"You did good, Spike. Really good." There was tenderness in Angel's eyes, and remembering, and just knowing everything that had been.

The waiter interrupted their moment, finally deciding that it was time to take their order. "Can I get anything for you gentlemen tonight?"

After they ordered, Angel picked up his glass. "To us," he said simply.

Spike lifted his up, clinking it against Angel's glass. "To once upon a time," he amended.

"Once upon a time, and happily ever after," Angel corrected, drinking his soda. He sneezed. "I dunno about this whole soda thing. How d'you keep from sneezing? All those stupid little bubbles…"

Whether they had a year or ten years, whatever time would be given to them now, happily ever after or not, at least Spike knew that the moments like these (sappy or not) would never fade away.