Dark Desires

Angel/Smallville Crossover

NOTE: The timing in between shows is purposefully off. Imagine this all happening between season 1 and 2 of Angel, but Spike has joined the team around that time (I did that because I like Spike but didn't want to make the setting Wolfram & Hart, so there you go! :D). This is just something I did for fun, I hope you enjoy!

A Glimpse into Two Worlds

"You've got to be kidding me," Gunn stared at Angel while leaning casually against the wall of his office.

"Really?" Fred chimed in by the doorway.

"You're not serious. Are you, Angel?" Wesley scoffed incredulously.

Angel gently swayed from side to side a bit in his chair, looking up at his anxious friends. It was intriguing to Angel how people were so curious about his past—minus the evil, rampaging, and killing parts. People sometimes saw him as a history book, stuffed with knowledge from 200 years that they haven't lived. It made him feel special. He basked in it.

"What? That I met Marilyn Monroe back in my hay day?" Angel asked in his signature low voice, sprinkled with an Irish twang.

"Yes!" His choir of friends shouted.

"Then, yes," Angel answered.

Fred's eyes widened. "Wow!"

"Yes…I was kidding," he finished. The 'Angel Gang' rolled their eyes and filed out of his office, disappointed in Angel's trickery.

"What?" Angel asked with a laugh as the door closed shut. He smiled and put his feet up on the desk, now alone within the darkness of his office. He stared at the closed blinds of his windows, which only allowed a yellow glow from the sun to seep inside. His thoughts drifted to a woman that he'd saved last night from a couple of Sonko demons. He could envision her perfectly. Everything down to her long brunette hair, thin face, eyes wide and puffy from her tears, and her thin pink lips. It was a shame that he couldn't save her from herself. Even if the demons didn't kill her, her drug addiction would. Angel tried to tell himself that it wasn't something to feel guilty about. Intervention was never part of the job. However, he still felt connected to her. Those drugs were her inner demon. It would have to be a lonely battle.

"Why, if it isn't tall, dark, and depressed," A familiar English voice knocked Angel out of his thoughts. Angel shot Spike an annoyed stare. Unaffected, the blonde vampire dug his hands into his long black leather coat.

"Get out." Angel said promptly.

Spike put a hand to his chest in mock offense. "Well that's not bloody fair! One minute, you're Jolly Saint Angel but once you see me it's 'get out'. Why, Angel, I'm hurt."

With an irritated sigh, Angel thought about responding or not. Sometimes, Spike just wasn't worth it. "Maybe I didn't make myself clear-"

"Oh, you made yourself as clear as your brooding lil' brow of yours could make it," He grinned and stepped into the office, looking around as if viewing it for the first time. Even several years ago, back when Drusilla had sired Spike, Angel seemed to be dealing with a restless child. Some things never change.

"Then why are you walking inside my office, instead of out?"

Spike glanced at the door and then at Angel. "Since when have I ever listened to a thing you say? I'd think you'd know me better."

Angel slammed his hands on his desk and stood. "Why can't you bother someone else? Fred? Lorne? Anyone?"

Spike sighed and lowered his head. "As much as Fred wanted it, she and I will never be. She just couldn't handle my intellect, handsome looks, and my bloody good job of taking up space."

"And you do that extremely well," Angel mumbled.

"Looking handsome?"

"No, taking up space,"

Spike shrugged. "Well, I do try."

Cordelia walked in the office with a mug in her hand. Her hair, now pinned back in a long flowing ponytail of kinks, bounced as she pranced towards Angel's desk. She was careful not to spill the contents of the mug all over her blue tube top.

"Coffee break!" She set the mug on his desk. "It's been a long night of saving damsels in distress—at least for you, anyways. Lots of cream, low on sugar." She smiled brightly. Angel gazed up at her, not sure how to react. He was never sure how to react when it comes to Cordelia.

He took the mug. "Uh, thanks,"

"What is it?" Cordy asked, alarmed.

Apparently, Angel thought. That was the wrong reaction.

"Oh, I know. You like lots of sugar instead of cream," Cordilea realized.

"Cordy," Angel interrupted.

"—No, I think it was no cream. That's right."

"Cordy,"

"Oh wait. No sugar. Right, or maybe it was—"

"How about blood? Ever thought of that?" Spike interrupted.

"Blood. Wait, that's just…ew! And—" She looked at Angel with wide eyes. "Oops,"

"Bright one, isn't she?" Spike cracked.

"It's okay, Cordy. I'll drink it," Angel stated with a smile. It really didn't matter to him. He was just trying to get used to the new, improved, 'Random Acts of Kindness" Cordy. Back in Sunnydale, Cordelia could barely give a straight compliment, much less a cup of coffee. Now that she's been granted frequent flash visions of the future from The Powers That Be, she seemed to have gained some perspective.

"Thank you, Angel. At least there's one vampire in the world with some compassion," She turned to Spike. "Spike, I just don't get you. At least Angel can make up his mind with being good or evil. Spike, you're evil one day, good the next, and the day someone sticks a chip in your head—well—you just end upcrazy."

Angel lowered his head, trying to hide his smirk. Sparks of old Sunnydale Cordelia sometimes came at the right moments. Spike gave a deadly glare towards Angel.

"Bye kiddies," Cordilea said. "Don't rip each other's throats out, because I'm not gonna be the one cleaning up the mess," At that, she pranced out of the room with the clacking sound of her heels following behind her.

Lana slammed the locker door just as the last bell began to ring. Keeping a tight grip on her books, she turned to her left and jumped at the sight of Clark Kent.

"Oh, hi, Clark. You nearly scared me there."

Clark shrugged his broad shoulders. "Sorry about that. I, uh—"he paused at Lana's distant gaze downwards. For a moment, he marveled her beauty. He was so used to gazing at her short, thin frame. Her brown oval eyes always used to stare into his right before they kissed. Sometimes he could still see that look in her eyes or maybe he just tried to convince himself it was still there.

"So…are you still at the coffee shop?" Clark asked, tension in his voice.

Lana nodded. "Yeah. Today, it'll be hectic. Chloe is on assignment for the newspaper and she won't be helping me today," Her large eyes gazed up at Clark with hesitation. Clark cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Well, I could help…" Clark offered. Lana tilted her head and blinked, as if she had a hard time registering Clark's offer. He cleared his throat again and swallowed. "I mean, if that's alright with you,"

"Uh, yeah, sorry," her gaze downcast. "Sure. Thanks." She flashed one last quick look at him and smiled half-heartedly before she walked past him, down the hall.

Clark sighed as he heard the sound of her heels hitting the floor fade away. Every time he had these run-ins with Lana, he couldn't help but feel guilty. He kept thinking that maybe he could be more open with her. But how? How would that be possible? It was who he was- what he was- that caused the break up. That in itself made being around Lana that much more painful. It hurt him even more to know that if he hadn't broken up with Lana, his burdens would be passed on to the very people he loved. He simply couldn't let that happen.

"Don't leave me this way," Lorne sung, bursting through the double doors of the Angel Investigations hotel. Naturally, he found both Wesley and Fred buried in research. Thick open books scattered the floor around the desk. Fred was on the computer probably 'googling' ancient relics. Wesley was on the couch, face buried in what looked like a demon encyclopedia. His black framed glasses rested on the tip of his nose. Lorne knew just the trick to break that revival-of-high-school-finals air.

"I can't survive," Lorne sung, spinning around in his flashy bright yellow suit. "I can't stay alive, without your love…"

"Lorne, you seem so cheerful today," Fred said, in her small southern voice, smiling from the computer.

Lorne strutted to the desk and rested his green hands on its surface. "I seem so because I am so, lovely bunny." Uh oh. Here it comes again.

"Oh, baby! My heart full of love and desire for you!" he continued to sing. Fred giggled. He slid to the couch, trying to maneuver around the books lying on the floor. "Come on, Wes! Don't leave me this way! Sing a few bars!" He held an invisible microphone towards Wesley.

He looked up from his heavy hard cover book. "I'm quite busy, Lorne,"

Suddenly, Gunn burst through the door, yellow gunk all over his baggy dark denim jeans and jacket. The axe he held was covered in the slimy, translucent substance.

"Gunn!" Fred jumped up from the computer. Wesley stood from the couch. "What happened?" he asked.

"Naw, I'm cool," he casually walked down the steps. "Some nasty demon tried to get at my guys. I thinkit was a she. And it tried to mate with me…I think,"

"Honey, you don't know how many of my customers would envy you," Lorne informed.

"Hmmph," Gunn huffed, shaking his arms. Gunk splattered on the walls. "If that's the case, I guess I am happy with the single life," He shot a glare at Fred. Immediately, her eyes shot downwards.

"Wait a minute, what kind of demon was it?" Wesley said, grabbing his book from the couch.

"Look, when I see a demon," Gunn said harshly. "I don't say 'Hey my name is Gunn, what's yours?'"

Wesley sighed and slumped his shoulders, hitting the book against his thigh.

"Okay," Gunn gave in. "It had thick black skin. About that tall. Ridges on the left and right sides of its face. And…obviously, yellow nasty gunk."

Wesley flipped through the book. Stopping at a page, he placed a finger on the text. "Ah…"

Fred went around the desk to Wesley's side to see his discovery. "It was a Silklum demon. Originated right from the Hellmouth itself. It's quite old in our terms of time but quite a young, almost inferior…if you will…clan to most other demons. But what makes them special is their blood. When it sheds, the substance itself could weaken most demons. It's like a defense mechanism."

"Wesley, that's amazing!" Fred gave him a tight squeeze around the waist and proceeded to find an empty container. "It's great that you'd find something like this, Wes. This could be a life saver for Angel, couldn't it?" She ran around the desk over to Gunn and began scrapping some of the yellow substance off of his jeans.

"Yes, indeed it could. A time saver as well,"

Gunn rolled his eyes and said bitterly," 'Thanks Gunn for killing an original spawn of the Hellmouth itself. I don't know what we would do without you. You're such a great asset to the team. A good muscle'."

"Gunn, I—" Fred started, closing the lid of her container.

"Naw, I'm just glad some people appreciate me around here. Fred. English." Gunn glared at them both. "It's cool though. At least I have a little peace of mind every time I almost get my head chopped off. I'm out of here," He stormed out the door.

"Ah, a man scorned," Lorne said. "Loved and lost." He laughed. "People sure are moody today."

Suddenly, Angel burst out of his office with Spike following behind.

"Leave me alone, Spike,"

"Let me think. How about no?" Spike said.

Angel turned around at the foot of the staircase. "Leave me alone!" He started up the stairs again.

"Nope," Spike answered, following after him.

Lorne looked at the bickering vampires run up the stairs. "Everyone is moody today,"

Clark entered the coffee shop, greeted by the sound of grunge music, strong smells of coffee, and crowded tables of teenagers chatting after a long day of school. Clark approached the counter and Lana was busy at work.

"Clark," Lana greeted. For a second, she was distracted by Clark's familiar blazing blue eyes. She was almost taken aback by how normal this interaction seemed to be on some level. Clark was here to help out and that's all. Hopefully it could stay that way. He sat on a stool behind the counter.

"Um, I'll have something for you to do in a minute," Lana said. Clark smiled, nodded, and watched her disappear around back. Clark looked around and saw a couple kissing a few seats down. He watched them whisper in each other's ear and laugh quietly at each other's jokes. He sighed loudly without realizing it.

"Something wrong?" Lana asked, walking back towards the counter, drying off a mug with a towel. Clark abruptly turned around but said nothing. Lana knew the answer to her questions just by looking at him. Quickly, Lana tried to stop the tension.

"Here, come around back. You can take orders."

Clark nodded. "Sure thing," He made his way behind the counter and sure enough, he had his first customer. It was another couple. A tall lanky guy with long shoulder-length hair had his arm around his girlfriend, an average height blonde.

"What can I get you guys?" Clark asked.

"Two latte mochas," the tall guy said, gazing at the blonde lovingly and leaning in for a kiss. Clark punched in the order, trying not to be distracted.

"Two latte mochas coming right up," Lana said, preparing the coffees. After the couple got their orders, there was a lull of costumers and a silence between Clark and Lana.

"Clark," Lana stepped up to him. "Are you and Lex still good friends?"

Clark's eyes widened at the question. Lex? Why would she want to know anything about Lex?

"Yes…why?"

Lana smiled uneasily and shrugged. "Just asking," She walked into the back again.

Clark looked down at the cash register, bemused for a second. In the distance, as if on cue, he saw Lex walk in the door composedly, with his hands in the pockets of his dark denim jacket. He approached the counter and sat on the stool.

"Hey Clark. You look spaced,"

Clark smiled. "Yeah, just thinking about some things," He gazed blankly at Lex's long face and grey eyes. "So what brings you here?"

"I just thought I'd drop by," he paused. "Actually, something has been bothering me too, Clark."

"Yeah?"

"Luther Corp apparently has found something really strange and everyone knows about it but me."

"Something strange?" Clark asked, suddenly intrigued.

"Yeah. My father refuses to tell me what it is. It's supposed to be worth something substantial. He said I'll find out in 'due time'."

"Must be something really important," Clark shrugged.

"You bet it is," Lex leaned forward. "And I'm going to find out exactly what my father is keeping from me,"

"Lex!" Lana shouted, finally coming from the back. Her eyes brightened at the mere sight of Lex.

"Lana, how are you?" Lex asked.

Clark looked at Lana pointedly, put off by her sudden excitement.

"I'm doing great Lex," Lana said. They chatted for a while, Clark hearing less than half of the conversation. Instead, he started putting two and two together. Lana and Lex?

Thankfully, someone called Lana from the back kitchen.

"Oh, I've got to handle that," Lana said, pointing towards the back.

"Well you know what? Go and handle it. I have to run anyway," Lex smiled.

"Oh okay. Nice seeing you," She smiled back before making a hurried exit.

"Alright, Clark—" Lex placed a hand on Clark's shoulder and stood.

"Wait," Clark stopped him. "Can I talk to you? Just for a second?"

Lex sat down again with a puzzled look on his face. "Yeah sure. What's the matter?"

"I need some advice,"

"About Lana?" Lex guessed with a smirk.

Clark paused. Lex and Clark had been friends for a very long time. Would Lex really betray him like that? Clark found it hard to believe.

"Look, as a friend, I'm going to tell you this," Lex folded his hands on the counter and kept his voice low. "Lana loves you. Now, I know you two are going through a tough time right now but Clark, it'll turn out. I wish I had what you both have. A relationship. A bond. I can't even have that much with my father," He laughed without much humor and gazed up at him. "You're lucky to have her,"

Clark nodded, pondering over his words. "Thanks, Lex,"

Angel entered his office once again and Spike still followed behind. Turning around, he spat, "Don't you have anything to do?"

"Well, if I did, I certainly wouldn't be spending quality time with Mr. Boring over here," Spike said.

Angel sat down in his swivel chair and sighed. Cordelia came in the office with two shopping bags and sunglasses on. She pranced by Spike, who was standing by the bookshelf, and put the bags on Angel's desk.

"Hey, Cordy," Angel said hesitantly and frankly, somewhat frightened at what she would say next.

"Hey Angel," As an afterthought, she turned to Spike. "Oh, have you decided yet? Good? Evil?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "Don't look at me. I'm not the only vampire in the room who tends to flip flop you—"

"Anyway, Angel," Cordelia said, purposely cutting Spike off. "I found two unbelievably cute pairs of shoes today. I was going to go straight to my place with them but I thought—I should show Angel. He's not doing anything except brooding in his office. And just my luck! You're brooding in your office!" She looked in one of the bags. "AHH!" She shouted.

"What is it? Wrong shoes?" Angel asked, mildly concerned.

"No…AHHH!" Cordelia grabbed her head and her body tensed. Vision. Angel stood instantly but before he could get around the desk, Cordelia stumbled backwards. Spike took a step out of the way and Cordelia fell right on her back.

"SPIKE!" Angel shouted angrily and ran to her aid. Spike shrugged.

Angel knelt down to Cordelia and placed a hand on her back as she sat up. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah…" she rubbed her upper back. Looking up at Spike, she shouted, "Hey! Why'd you let me fall!"

Spike shrugged and snapped his fingers as if he'd just had an epiphany. "You know what, love? For that split second, I was evil! Guess I can't make up me mind." He smiled smugly and walked out of the office.

"Angel, I'm gonna leave a voicemail on your phone reminding you to kill him," Cordelia seemed to stare a hole through the office door Spike left out of.

"What did you see?" Angel ignored the comment.

"Very very large ugly demon," She held her head again. "Something like what gun had described but it was bigger. There was a symbol on his back. It looked like it was branded into him…"

"What did it say?"

"It looked like a large 'S'," Cordelia answered.

Wesley and Fred came in the doorway. "Cordy had a vision?" Fred asked.

"Yeah," Angel helped her stand and led her to his chair behind the desk.

"It's by the corner store on 25th street. That's where you need to go," Cordelia said, wincing. "Ahh, anyone got some asprin?"

Angel quickly grabbed his black duster from the coat rack and threw it on over his shoulders. "Take care of Cordelia," he said. He started heading out the door.

"Need me to go with?" Wesley offered.

"No, I can handle this,"