Where the Streets Have No Names

I was originally writing an actual sequel, but it went all weird on me so I scrapped it and decided to do a compilation of oneshots post-Angel instead. These take place after Mark's time on Earth is over. If you haven't read Angel, go read that first or else these stories are likely to make little sense to you. Some of the titles to some chapters will be song names because I'm just lazy like that :P

Side note: Someone PM'd me a question asking whether Angel is the one from Buffy/Angel. Now that I think about it, I guess they do sorta resemble each other, but the short answer is no. Besides, Spike is much much cooler anyways :P (Cookies go to anyone who can pull off a Spike/Taker story!)

Rated M for sex, violence, and mucho profanity. Contains m/m scenes.

1. I Believe I Can Fly

"You lied to me."

Angel arches his eyebrows at me. "I did?"

"You said they'd be black." I look over my shoulder. Yep, they are definitely not black. Quite the opposite, in fact.

"No, Mark. I said I thought you could have black ones. I guess I was wrong," he says. He comes over and strokes his hands over my wings, making me shiver. It feels so weird to feel sensations on parts of my body that weren't even there until recently.

"Besides," he continues, "Colour has no effect on performance. They'll still work no problem."

"But black looks better than white," I grumble, eyeing his black wings.

"I have black hair dye you can use," Gwen pipes up from the edge of the cliff where she's precariously perched.

I glance at her hair fluttering in the wind. "Your hair is blue," I state the obvious.

"Oh, I have all kinds of colours. Blue, black, pink--"

"I don't want pink wings, darlin'."

A devious look comes into her eyes. I'm definitely not letting her touch my wings. I give her a hard look but she simply smiles at me. Brazen little thing she is. She begins to rock back and forth on her heels, teetering dangerously over the edge of the cliff. I know she can fly but it still makes me uneasy. Part of me wants to go over there and yank her away, but the other part of me wants to stay the hell away from the edge. It's a long drop down. I don't mix well with heights, which may seem stupid considering how tall I am but I don't want to be any higher up than I have to be. Getting up on the top rope of a wrestling ring to do Old School is about my limit. Anything higher than that usually resulted in lots of pain for me. I tried really hard to avoid ladder matches. Those are no day at the beach, if you know what I mean.

Speaking of which, this is no day at the beach either. "You lied 'bout going to the beach too," I say to Angel. Normally, I'm not big on sunshine. I freckle like crazy and get sunburn instead of a tan. Irish blood will do that to you. But apparently, this doesn't happen up here.

"We are at the beach," he replies.

"We're five hundred feet above the beach," I correct him.

He shrugs. "Same difference."

I look out at the water, and the sunlight glimmering off the surface. There's a curve in the otherwise straight line of land we're standing on, and that's where the beach is down below. Moss is covering a good portion of the sides of the cliffs. The waves are splashing against the bottom of the cliffs on the other end of the beach. It kinda reminds me of Ireland. I spot a few good fishing spots down below. I'll have to try them out sometime.

"Come on, Marky! Quit stalling!" Gwen yells impatiently at me, "You can't be an angel and not know how to fly."

I hate to admit it but she's right. I would make some shitty ass angel if I didn't know how to use my wings. I take a few steps closer to the edge. I immediately start to sway involuntarily when I look down, and take a step backwards. Shit, this is really high up. I blow out a long breath. "So, how's this work?" I ask.

"Just jump off," Angel instructs me.

"What?" I stare at him incredulously but he looks completely serious. There's no way I am jumping to my death voluntarily.

"Don't worry," Angel tries to reassure me, "If you drop, the water will break your fall."

Well that's just fucking great. I'm gonna fall five hundred feet into the lake and then drown because my big ass wings will sink me like a rock. That's not very reassuring at all.

"It helps if you don't think about it. I didn't. Well, actually I didn't really have a choice…" Gwen rambles on but I don't hear the rest of what she says.

"What do you mean you didn't really have--Son of a bitch!" I yell when Angel shoves me from behind and before I know it, I'm plummeting towards the water head first. Oh fuck. I'm gonna die. I see a few jagged rocks that look like they're rushing up to meet me and I hope I don't land on of them. That would fucking hurt. Ridiculous thoughts start presenting themselves in my mind. Can you even die in heaven? Re-die? And then what happens?

My wings suddenly extend out as if of their on accord and I'm not plummeting anymore but gliding away from the cliffs. "Holy shit," I mutter to myself. My heart is lodged in my throat and trying to pound its way out.

"See, that wasn't so bad." Angel swoops in next to me, giving me a shit-eating grin. He pauses for a bit then adds, "And I don't think my mother would appreciate you calling her a bitch."

I growl and try to grab him but he dodges me and takes off higher into the sky, laughing the entire time. Goddamn bastard. It takes me a while to figure out exactly how to manoeuver my wings to get up higher but I finally get the hang of it and chase Angel through the sky. The wind whooshes past my ears and the land underneath us looks like it's getting smaller and smaller as I take off after him. This is pretty fucking cool.

Angel manages to elude my grasp for a good thirty minutes or so, and my wings are starting to ache. This flying stuff is pretty damn tiring. Maybe because it's my first time. Angel seems to sense this and he motions to an island down below where Gwen is. "Try to land there!" He hollers to be heard over the wind. I follow him down and try to mimic what he does but I still end up stumbling a few steps in the sand.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" Gwen shrieks, shielding the sandcastle she's building from me.

Angel catches me in his arms and stops me from falling over. He grins at me. "Have fun?"

I wrestle him to the ground. The sand poofs into the air around us as we land with a thud. "You're gonna pay for shovin' me off that damn cliff."

"Oh really?" he asks with an amused look and attempts to roll us over so that he's on top. I lie down directly on top of him, grab his wrists and pin his arms over his head.

"Whatcha gonna do now?" I smirk. He simply grins back at me, unfazed, and starts moving his wings in the sand underneath him. My smirk disappears. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Making a sand angel?" he laughs, "Not much else I can do, is there?"

"Dumbass." I laugh, anger forgotten for a brief moment before I remember what he did to me. "Don't think you're off the hook, boy."

"Oh come on, Mark. Let me up. The sand is getting in my hair," he practically whines.

"The sand is gettin' in your hair, hm?" I grin and pick up a fistful of sand and dump it in his hair. He lets out an indignant yell and struggles underneath me, but I have a slight size advantage not to mention gravity working in my favour. I laugh as he tries to buck me off him.

"You might as well stop," I say casually, "It ain't doin' shit to me." Actually, that's a lie. Him bucking and squirming underneath me is making me really damn hard.

He finally stops moving. "Let me go," he demands. I almost want to laugh at the seriousness of the look in his face.

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

He pouts up at me. He's actually pouting. And I'll be damned if it ain't the cutest damn thing I've seen in a while. Possibly ever. I find myself wavering.

"If you let me up right now, I'll give you a blowjob," he offers with a wicked smirk, and grinds his hips up into mine making me groan. I see Gwen perk up from her sandcastle building out of the corner of my eye. Angel lifts his head up as far as he can in his position and gives me a chaste kiss before pulling away and regarding me expectantly. Evil bastard. How can someone so devious be a resident of heaven?

I reluctantly give in. "It better be a fuckin' good blowjob," I warn him.

"Hey, my blowjobs are always fuckin' good," he scoffs.

"Can I watch?" Gwen asks eagerly.

"No," both Angel and I answer in unison.