Welcome to the first chapter of my Angel/Spike series. As you might expect from the title, this is a rewrite of the season 5 episode, "A Hole in the World." What follows afterward is a rewrite of the last eight episodes of the season, with a Spangel slant to them. Please, enjoy what I have written and don't feel shy about leaving feedback, even on these older entries. I eagerly read every review and appreciate them all.

A Different Hole in the World

Part 1

For longer than I would ever admit, Spike and I had yelled back and forth at each other, pacing around my office as we argued. He would yell at me, getting in my face about how his opinion was the only opinion that made sense, while I would yell right back, knocking down each of his arguments in turn. My answer to the problem was the only answer that truly made any sense. It had to be. There was no way Spike could be right about this, let alone anything else that really mattered!

Eventually, Spike got right up in my face, concluding his argument with, "You just want it to be the way you want it to be!"

Meanwhile, I shouted over him. "It doesn't matter what I want!"

We stood nose to nose, neither conceding ground to the other. If anyone was wrong about this, it was Spike. As I stared him down, standing too close to him, Spike's scent filled my nostrils and he reeked of lust, the smell baffling me and clouding my head. Every time we argued lately, Spike smelled more strongly and I kept fighting to ignore it, to keep things between us the way they were. But we kept getting into these long drawn-out arguments time and time again, and he kept smelling like that. Maybe he just got off on annoying me.

Spike opened his mouth to continue the argument, to continue annoying me, but brain-addled with lust and desperate to shut him up, I grabbed his head. Before he could speak, before either of us knew what I was going to do, I kissed him, pressing our lips together fiercely.

Surprisingly Spike responded, leaning into me and returning the pressure of my kiss. His lustful scent surrounded me and when I opened my lips slightly, his tongue met mine. Not even bothering to think about what I was doing, I let my hands drop from his face to his shoulders and Spike settled his hands at my waist. What the hell? He wasn't pulling away! But I wasn't either, was I?

I could feel the call of my blood in his veins and the bond sizzled between us at once comforting and enticing. Being this close to him again, touching him, kissing him, felt so nice, and it reminded me of before, when he'd been part of my family. When he'd been our William, brash young Spike who would never listen, who got us all in trouble just because he could. Who had fought at my side, who I'd considered my companion, and maybe even my friend.

And now he was here again, pissing me off in that way only he could and I was slipping my hands into the collar of Spike's coat and pushing it from his shoulders. When his coat hit the floor, both Spike and I snapped out of it, staring at each other in surprise. Eventually his face twisted into a pretense of anger.

"Oi!" he yelled hotly. "You're just trying to shut me up!" He punched me in the eye. "Because you know you've lost."

"Yes to the shutting you up," I said, recovering and latching onto the excuse he'd given me. "But I'm still right." The sex rolling off Spike's skin was almost unbearably strong and when my nostrils flared as I inhaled it, Spike's eyes dilated, anger clouding his face.

Before I could gather my wits and stare him down properly, Spike pounced on me, taking us both to the ground, him on top. The shock of the fall immobilized me, but he just started hitting, punching at my face and ribs. "I'll shut you up, you bloody ponce!"

He got in a few good whacks before Wesley walked into the office and Spike froze, arm still cocked to hit me again. Taking that brief opportunity, I shoved him off me and halfway across the room. Standing, we both stood to face Wesley, Spike crossing his arms over his chest defensively and I leaning against the conference table, glad I hadn't eaten yet that day. If I had, I'm sure I would have been blushing as much as Spike was.

"Is this argument," asked Wesley, "something we should all be discussing?"

Spike and I looked at each other briefly and I answered, "It was mostly theoretical." Wesley regarded us in a way that made me feel like we were two arguing school boys who had been caught fighting by the teacher. At least we hadn't been caught kissing.

"It just looked a little serious." Wesley looked at us expectantly, eyebrows high on his forehead.

Eventually Spike spoke up. "Right," he said, bravado pasted on again, thick in the carelessness of his voice. "So, if cavemen and astronauts got in a fight, who would win?"

The man looked at us for a few breaths before he asked bemused, "And this is what you two have been fighting about for forty minutes?" Neither Spike nor I corrected this notion. The five minutes we had spent kissing didn't exist. After a few more moments of silence, Wesley furrowed his brow and breathed a sigh. Then he asked, "Do the astronauts have weapons?"

We replied in unison, "No."