A Sunny Day


Summary: Angel looks for Spike and finds a surprise. Buffy/Spike, with some mentions of Buffy/Angel. Oneshot; complete.

Rating: PG for language and sexual references.

Setting: AtS Season 5.


It was a sunny day, the kind of day that made Angel grateful for the Necro-Tempered glass in his car windows. He pulled into the shade and carefully mapped out a safe route. He'd feel pretty dumb if all his hard work getting to the top of Wolfram & Hart went to waste because he was foolhardy enough to get himself torched.

Maybe that's what had happened to the peroxide idiot. Stepped outside one time too many. Angel gritted his teeth as he stomped up to the door and pushed it open.

Of course it was unlocked. Spike was just reckless enough.

"Spike?" Angel said loudly, making his displeasure known. He took a few steps forward. The place looked even messier than usual. "You know, if you're going to be part of this team, Spike, you can't just hole yourself up in here and…whatever it is you do."

He heard something, like someone shuffling around. There was a strange smell about the place, too – like Spike and cigarettes, sure, but another familiar scent was present too. Almost unconsciously, he shut his eyes, trying to persuade himself that he was wrong.

"Angel?"

He opened his eyes and Buffy appeared, tying her hair back into a ponytail as she spoke. "I was planning on coming to see you. I…didn't think you'd show up here." She didn't sound embarrassed.

Angel couldn't help but let his eyes take in the sight. She was even stronger and more beautiful than she had been the last time he saw her, in Sunnydale before the battle with the First. She still carried herself like a general, even in sweatpants and a black T-shirt that seemed large on her.

She took a step forward, as if unsure whether to embrace him. Her smell hit him even harder, but her sweet and spicy scent was mixed with another's. Angel smelled Spike stronger than ever, and he realized with a start that Buffy was wearing his shirt. By the smell of it, the shirt that the vampire had been wearing very recently, even an hour ago.

Oh. So that's why she was here.

Buffy didn't try to hide her blush as she understood Angel's expression. They were silent for what felt like hours. Angel was unable to hold back the images his nose and imagination were providing him. The intermingled Spike-and-Buffy scent was becoming too strong for him, and he took a step back.

"Spike doesn't happen to be in, does he?" Angel asked awkwardly, after an eternity. He knew, of course, that he would be able to sense his grandchilde's presence – and probably also feel the punches he'd receive for interrupting their quality time.

"He went out," Buffy said shortly. "I needed some things. Food, mostly. Real food, not just chips and hot wings." She rolled her eyes fondly.

Angel swallowed. "Oh. Okay."

She looked at him. "He shouldn't be too long."

"Well, you know, I can come back if you…I'll come back. In fact, just tell him to call me. That would be, uh, good."

Why did every interaction with Buffy have to go this way? He wasn't asking for her to fall back into his arms. They'd both changed, and he was surprisingly okay with that. Angel just wished they could talk without one specter or another hovering over their interaction.

"No, stay," she said, surprising him. She sat on the couch and patted the seat next to her. Angel sat, still feeling out of place.

"It's good to see you," he muttered, offering her a small smile.

Buffy smiled wanly. "Did you think I wouldn't find out what was going on here?"

His brow furrowed. "What?"

"Wolfram & Hart. Spike being back. Preventing the apocalypse. Did you think none of this would get back to me?"

"Well, I knew you were busy…"

Her eyes flared. "So you thought you just wouldn't bother me with any of this. It's fine for you to barge into my life whenever you want, but God forbid you let me know what's going on with you. Especially if it involves Spike."

Angel tried to ignore the way she said his name. "If you want to be angry at someone for not telling you he was back, you should be mad at him. It was his decision."

"Trust me, I kicked his ass halfway around this apartment for that," Buffy revealed, smiling. "And as angry as I was – and still am, a little – I understood his stupid, unreasonable reasons for not telling me. You, on the other hand…"

"Buffy," he said. Her name felt a little strange on his lips, after all these years. "I thought we decided to stay out of each other's lives. Look, I'm sorry. I…didn't really want you to know what I was up to." He wanted to add "for your own good", but he didn't think she'd appreciate the sentiment.

She bit her lip. "Yeah, I figured." Buffy sighed and rested her head on the back of the couch. "And I would be beating the crap out of you for that if I didn't believe you had a good reason for what you're doing. I mean, God, Angel. Wolfram & Hart?"

He didn't really have anything to say to that.

"Spike actually took up your case on that, though. He said, and I quote, 'the bloody wanker hasn't sold out as much as it looks'." Angel grinned a little at her terrible accent. "So I figured, if it's enough to make even him stick up for you, I'd give you a chance. But I'm going to be keeping an eye on you."

He blinked. "You're staying?"

"You need me," she said, matter-of-factly. "And…Spike's here. So I'm staying, at least until this apocalypse sitch is cleaned up."

Before Angel had a chance to reply, the door opened loudly. "I got what you asked for, love, but I don't know how you call this bloody food. Picked up the other, too." Angel could hear the grin in his voice.

Spike walked into the room, eyes narrowing when he noticed Angel. "What do you want?" he asked bluntly, setting his bags down on the floor.

Buffy's eyes immediately met his.

Angel rose uncomfortably, wanting very much to get out of the apartment as quickly as possible. The two blondes were staring at each other so longingly he was afraid they would forget he was there. "I was coming to see you. Just wanted to let you know that we don't need you today. Or, you know, all week. I'll…be…going, now."

They didn't break their eye contact.

"Bye," Angel said lamely, and fled.


The couple settled onto the couch. "I thought he'd never leave," Spike murmured, tugging a golden lock and twisting it around his finger. Buffy sighed and leaned into his touch, kissing his jawline gently.

"Great expression, by the way," she said slyly. "I didn't think he'd try to get rid of us for a whole week. I guess the thought of us together really gives him the wig."

"Think we should drop in tomorrow? The look on his face'd be bloody hilarious."

"We could be getting cozy on his desk," Buffy suggested, smiling wickedly.

Spike looked impressed. "You're evil, pet."

Two years before, his comment would have bothered her. She smiled, however, and bumped his shoulder. "I've had to put up with you for too long."


Once outside, Angel breathed a sigh of relief (although it was, of course, unnecessary). He was beginning to be more okay with the idea of Spike and Buffy, he really was. As annoying as Spike had been, Angel could also tell the other vampire had genuinely changed.

It was also nice to see Buffy smile again, even if it wasn't for him. She deserved it.

Still, just because he didn't outright oppose the idea didn't mean he wanted to see his grandchilde and ex-girlfriend swapping spit. Angel shuddered as he slipped into the driver's seat. At least it was a sunny day – the lovebirds would have to stay inside or risk half of the couple catching fire.

The peace and quiet of his office suddenly sounded fantastic.