A/N: Welcome back to my Angel/Spike series! If you'd like to read everything chronologically, this is the order: A Different Hole in the World, Underneath the Grief, Origin of the Lies, and finally this one - Tempestuous Time Bomb. All you really need to know is that Spike gets visions from the Powers that Be and he and Angel are in a young, but well established relationship.

I haven't finished this episode yet, so the updates won't be every day, but I'll try to stick to an every other day schedule. There's so much to do before the holidays, hopefully I can keep up! I'm also still working on 'The Prizefighter' and 'The Brothers in the House', so updates on those stories are in the works as well.


Tempestuous Time Bomb – Part 1

Spike, Lorne, and I sat around the conference table outside the records room, going through all the papers and all the decisions we needed to make on a daily basis. Harmony sat at the table too, but she wasn't really helping so much as she was pretending to work. Spike was actually pitching in, which I found really surprising. He read reports, and made decisions that I agreed with more often than not. Where had this side of him been hiding?

As we sat in silence, I read a report about some trial we were involved in. I tried to figure out what was going on, but eventually gave up, growling in frustration. "This is impossible!" I yelled, throwing the case file down onto the table. "We need to get Gunn back."

"How?" Spike asked. "Charlie wouldn't want us putting some poor bloke down there in his place, Ange."

Fred walked into the room then, her carriage too graceful and too powerful. "Illyria," I nodded at her in greeting. We hadn't actually seen Fred since she got her memories back from that sorcerer, Cyrus Vale, a few weeks ago.

"Heyyy, cupcake," Lorne said gently, his voice colored with nervousness. At least he had forgiven me for allowing Wolfram and Hart to erase his memories of Connor. He'd even gone as far as telling me he wished he hadn't gotten them back.

The human who thought she was a demon just stood there, looking at us one at a time. Her eyes seemed to shift back and forth between their normal brown and a bluish hazel, which I found really disturbing.

Eventually Spike spoke up. "What do you want, Lyrie?"

"I heard your king speak of the dark-skinned one, half-breed. The entity you called Fred desires his safety."

"Yeah, well that's what we all want," sighed Lorne.

"Right," I nodded. "In a perfect world, Gunn would be here, helping us make sense of all this crap. But it's not a perfect world, Illyria. Get used to it."

Illyria screwed up her face in disgust, an unusual level of expression coming from her. "I despise your tone, Angel."

"Believe me, the feeling's mutual."

Without further ado, Illyria left, stalking from the room and leaving a group of annoyed demons in her wake. Why didn't I have any humans left? Wes died, Fred was possessed, and Gunn was stuck in a hell dimension we couldn't get him out of. Yet again I cursed myself for being lured into this fucking job.

"Ugh!" protested Harmony, getting up and moving toward me as she kept her eyes on the door where Fred had left. "That bitch!" She put her hand on my shoulder, massaging the muscles, "Are you okay, Boss?"

I looked up at her, slightly confused about her motives when Spike said, "Oi! Bint! Hands off the merchandise." His tone was protective and a little jealous, which made me smile slightly. As if Harmony was a threat to him…

"Geez, Spike," she said, backing off and holding her hands up defensively. "I was just being nice."

"Go be nice to someone else," he snarled, purposely snapping his attention back to the report in his hands and ignoring her until she left.

"Okay, guys," said Lorne, tipping back the rest of his Sea breeze. "The tension in here is killing me. I need some air. I think I'll go talk to that demon contact I told you about."

"Yeah, okay Lorne," I said, closing more of the folders in front of me. "We'll talk about that case when you get back?" When he nodded I said, "I'll be in my office by then."

"See you in a few, Angel hair." He nodded to the other vampire, "Spike."


As we walked down the hallway later that night, I yelled, "Hey, Angel. Wait up, you pillock."

"Spike," Angel replied, "for future reference – insulting someone isn't the best way to get them to honor your request."

"Ooh, listen to the big man," I mocked, "all full of important bits of wisdom. If you're so smart, how do you suggest I get you to honor my request?" I said these last few words in a stuffy voice, not unlike how Giles speaks all the time.

Angel looked at me wordlessly, a lecherous glint in his eye. As we reached his office, I closed the door behind us.

"All in good time," I replied to his suggestion.

Angel smiled and fell into the big chair behind his desk, stowing some files in one of the drawers. "Did you just want to follow me in here, or did you have something you wanted to discuss?"

"It's late, pet. Can't we go upstairs?"

"Ugh," groaned Angel, rubbing his face with his hands. "I wish I could, hon. I only have a few minutes before Lorne gets back with that intel from his contact in that disruptive demon clan. We've got to go over it and decide what needs to be done. If you want, you could give us a hand?"

"Yeah, sure, luv. If you're not comin' up for a while, I'd rather not go to bed alone." I sat down on the desk almost in front of him and leaned down to kiss Angel, briefly. "But there was somethin' I wanted to bend your ear about, if you'll let me."

"Yeah?" he asked, taking my legs in his hands and planting my feet on either side of his hips in the chair. He ran his hands up and down my calves, looking up at me. I love this casual touching; it's so calming and exhilarating at the same time. "What's on your mind?"

"Well..." Hmm. How to put this? Instead of speaking, I pulled a wrapped up length of white silk chord from my pocket and held it out to him.

"What's this?" he asked, taking it from me. "Rope?"

I nodded, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Oh." Angel turned the bundle over in his hands. "Look, Spike," he started, trying to hand the chord back to me. Oh, here we go with the Mr. Thinks He's Too Good crap. "I really don't like being –"

"No, you moron," I interrupted, pushing the rope back at him. "It's for me, yeah?"

"Oh," he frowned. Then a wicked smile crept onto his face, "Oh."

"You'll do it?"

"If you want..." Oh, God. He said yes. I could already imagine Angel putting that rope to good use, already feeling the bite of the cord around my wrists. I smiled, leaning in to kiss him. I knew the sadistic part of him was still in there, hiding behind his soul. He liked holding me down, it only followed that he'd like to tie me down as well. I wondered briefly if those tendencies had been there before he died. It would explain a lot. A thrill ran up my center and my body ached for him to touch more than my calves.

As I pulled back from the kiss, Angel clapped a hand on the back of my neck and squeezed. Oh, bloody hell. My whole body tried to go limp on me and I struggled to stay perched on the desk above Angel.

"Hmm," he smiled. "That still works, huh?"

I tried to fight it, tried to make my voice defiant, and failed miserably. "You're still my grandsire, aren't ya?"

"Mmm," he hummed in agreement, easing up on the pressure and massaging my neck with his hand. I could smell him getting turned on, catching up with me. Good.

But then he released me, pushing back from the desk and standing up.

"What's wrong?"

"Like I said, Spike, Lorne will be here in a minute. And he already knows way too much about us, so let's not start anything we can't finish."

I stood up, joining him. "Later, though?"

Angel smiled, bending so he could whisper in my ear. "Later, I'm going to tie you down, stretching your whole body taut. I'm going drink your blood and run my fingers over every inch of your trembling skin until you beg me to fuck you."

I shuddered, his words speaking to the aching need that went all the way down to my bones. I leaned in, pressing my whole body against him. "Is it gonna hurt?"

"Only if you don't cooperate." He pulled me closer, slipping his hand under my coat, and dug his fingers into the flesh at my hip. I hissed at the pain, needing more. Needing him. So much for not starting anything.

"I never was very good at taking orders."


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