Beta'd by epd4. I'd like to give a great big thanks for all her help. Any mistakes that remain are mine and mine alone.

Another great big thanks to everyone that has commented. I appreciate each and every one.

Bruises

Chapter 28 – Intractable

"Mornin', Peaches. What brings you round so early?"

Angel smiled as he followed Spike back into his bedroom. "Buffy asked me to come over while she was at practice."

Spike stopped three feet from the bathroom door and turned around. "Why?" Angel's mouth opened then closed and he got a pained look on his face. Spike sighed, "Oh. I need a babysitter now, is that it? Can't risk leavin' me alone 'cause I might do somethin' crazy?"

Angel shook his head. "No, it's not that you might do something crazy, Miss Maclay just said we shouldn't leave you alone because…" He trailed off with an uncomfortable look on his face.

"I might do somethin' crazy. It's all right, Peaches. I don't think I'm gonna do anything, but I appreciate the concern all the same." He stepped toward the bathroom again then glanced back over his shoulder. "Be right out. Make yourself at home."

Angel called after him, "You want to start learning to fight?"

Spike's head popped back through the bathroom door and he nodded. "Could do." He took in Angel's attire for the first time, sweat pants and a wife-beater tank top. He also had a backpack slung over one shoulder. "I don't have a kit like yours, though. Just denims."

Angel nodded as he slipped the bag off his shoulder. "Buffy told me, so I brought you a couple pairs of sweats that I outgrew. They might be a little big, but they should work." He dug around in the bag for a minute then tossed a bundle of cloth at Spike.

Spike caught the bundle and ducked back into the bathroom, coming out a few minutes later with his damp hair slicked back and a pair of maroon sweats sitting low on his hips. "Bit big, but if I…" He pulled the string in the waistband tight and tied it in a knot. "There. That should work."

"Have you had breakfast yet?"

Spike paused in pulling a plain black t-shirt out of his dresser then shook his head, mumbling as he tugged the shirt over it. "No. Just woke up a few moments ago."

Angel backed toward the door. "Well, we'd better get something into you. Don't want to train on an empty stomach."

Spike took a step then hesitated, nervously fingering the hem of his t-shirt. "Um…"

Angel stopped and looked at Spike questioningly, "Um… what?"

Spike's face turned a little bit pink as he dropped his gaze to the floor. "Just not sure I'm allowed, is all."

"Allowed to do what? Eat?"

Spike shook his head. "No. I know I'm allowed to eat, but I've only ever eaten when members of the family are here. I've not been given permission to go rummagin' round their kitchen on my own. Don't want to inadvertently eat somethin' that wasn't meant for me. They've been more than kind, takin' me in and all, and I don't want to balls that up."

Angel shrugged and turned toward the door. "I don't think they'd mind, Spike, but if you want, we can hit this little diner I know. They have awesome food." He stopped in the doorway and turned around to see Spike still standing in front of his dresser. "You coming?"

The tips of Spike's ears were a bright pink as he considered the floor just in front of his feet. "Don't have any dosh. Can't pay for my meal." He shrugged then took a deep breath and painted an unconcerned look onto his face. "No worries, though. I've gone without eatin' before… I can again."

Angel smirked. "I don't know how things work in England, but over here when somebody invites somebody else out to eat, the first somebody pays. It's kind of a rule."

Spike looked up at Angel with a small smile. "That so? S'pose that means I'm your date then, does it?"

Angel laughed. "No. A – I'm not gay. And B – the last thing I need is Buffy coming after me for trying to take her boyfriend. She may be small, but she's kind of scary."

Spike burst out laughing as he nodded. "That she is. Wouldn't want her cross with me, that's for sure."

"So… you two ok now?"

Spike's head tilted. "Meaning what, exactly?"

Angel shrugged. "She said you broke up with her last night."

Spike cringed. "Yeah, guess I did at that… just didn't want her saddled with a lunatic, you know? Thought I'd give her the chance to get away from me." He took a deep breath and put a smile on his face. "She set me straight, though. Kept tellin' me I wasn't barmy…"

Angel broke in, "She's right, you're not."

Spike nodded with a small smirk. "All right, I get it… don't have to keep beatin' me 'bout the head. You two are the most stubborn individuals I've ever come across, you know that?"

Angel shrugged. "Yep. Ready to go?"

Spike glanced down at his bare feet then looked over at Angel's sneakers. "Um… don't have trainers, either. Just boots."

Angel chuckled. "Won't need shoes for training and your boots will be fine for eating breakfast."

Spike nodded then fished a pair of socks out of his dresser and sat down on the bed to lace up his boots. He stood up and caught sight of himself in the full-length mirror mounted on the wall next to the bathroom door, black t-shirt, maroon sweats and Docs. He barked laughter, "I look a picture. Anybody sees me like this, my image is gonna go right out the window."

Angel smirked. "Well, you won't have to worry about seeing anybody you know at the diner. It's small and not too many people know about it, at least nobody from school does… but my dojo… there's classes all day and a few of the football players will probably be there." Spike's fingers started twitching at his t-shirt again and Angel hurried to continue, "But we could train somewhere else…"

Spike nodded toward the bedroom window. "Buffy has a large garden… would that work?"

Angel's brow furrowed. "Garden? You want to fight in the middle of corn plants and pumpkins?"

Spike barked laughter again. "No, you nit. Garden is proper English for yard. Buffy has a large back yard."

Angel grinned. "Right, you just might not want to say that to her face."

Now Spike's brow furrowed. "Why not? It's a perfectly accurate statement."

Angel laughed as he stepped out into the hallway, "Because that's American slang. Basically you just said that Buffy has a big ass."

Spike grumbled under his breath as he followed Angel down the stairs. "Bloody Americans, I'll never understand this country."

XXXX

Spike clung to the door handle with both hands, his knuckles white as Angel screeched around another corner. "Bloody hell! Who taught you to drive? Evel Knievel?"

Angel laughed and slowed down a fraction. "I haven't jumped over anything, Spike, I think you mean Jeff Gordon."

Spike shot him a glare and lifted one hand long enough to throw up two fingers before he clutched at the door handle again, muttering under his breath, "And Buffy thinks she's a bad driver. She's a little old granny compared to you."

Angel laughed then shrugged. "Hey, I like to drive fast. Do you know how to drive?"

Spike shook his head, starting to relax a little as Angel dropped to somewhere in the same country as the actual speed limit. "No. Didn't need to learn in London – used public transportation – and never had the chance to here."

Angel down-shifted fluidly and the engine growled as he shot the small car into the parking lot of the diner without making use of the brakes. "I could teach you."

Spike eyed him as Angel steered and clutched and shifted and braked, gliding the car to a smooth stop inches from the small building. He shook his head as Angel cut the engine. "Not sure I could figure all that out. Didn't know driving was a full body endeavor. Both hands and both feet working in concert? Seems immensely complicated."

Angel chuckled. "I wouldn't teach you in the Viper, but I have an old DeSoto – automatic transmission – so you'd only have to learn to steer and brake to start out. Once you've got the hang of that, then we could work on learning to drive stick."

Angel chuckled again and Spike looked at him curiously. "What?"

"Driving stick. Another slang term. Lesbians don't drive stick."

Spike's head tilted as he thought about that then he grinned. "Means gettin' it on with a bloke, yeah?"

Angel nodded. "Yeah."

"So, if I don't want anybody thinkin' we're poofters then I shouldn't mention that you're teachin' me to drive stick?"

Angel burst into laughter as he climbed out of the car. "No, that might give some people the wrong idea. I like you, Spike… just not like that."

The ding of a small bell mounted over the door heralded their entrance into the diner and they headed toward the booth in the back corner. Angel snagged one of the laminated menus from the pile on the counter, nodding at the waitress as she poured coffee for a man sitting at the counter. "Morning, April."

She smiled over at him. "Morning, be with you in a minute."

Angel dropped into the seat and slid the menu across the table as Spike sat down. "The biscuits and gravy is the best thing they've got here, but the steak and eggs are pretty good too."

Spike looked over the menu then peeked up at Angel. "Have you already eaten? 'Cause I don't want…"

Angel nodded, "Yeah, I ate at home, but I can eat again. I pretty much eat my weight every day. You wouldn't believe my metabolism. My mom jokes that they're gonna have to take out a second mortgage on the house just to feed me." He motioned toward the menu. "Get whatever you want. Everything's pretty good."

April stepped up next to their table and set a coffee cup down in front of Angel then filled it up as she looked at Spike. "You want coffee, hun?"

Spike looked up at her. "Do you have tea?"

April nodded. "Iced, sweet, or raspberry?"

Spike's brow furrowed. "Oh… um… coffee will be fine, thanks. Sugar?"

April smirked as she plunked a coffee cup down in front of Spike and filled it to the brim. "Don't usually get so fresh with new customers, hun."

Spike stuttered, "P..pardon, ma'am?"

Angel snorted, "You called her 'Sugar.'"

Spike's face went beet red as he dropped his gaze to the trembling menu clasped in his fingers. "My apologies, ma'am; I was inquiring if you had sugar… you know, for the coffee. I didn't mean to offend."

April laughed as she reached over to another table and snagged a sugar dispenser. "You're adorable… Sugar."

She walked back over toward the counter and Angel burst out laughing, "That's it. From now on, your name's Sugar."

Spike's face was still red as he looked at Angel. "And what does she call you?"

April stepped back up to their table with a small note pad in her hand. "You want your usual, Sweet Pea?"

Spike's laughter rang out through the diner.

XXXX

"Don't swing your fist out; push it from your shoulder. Try again." Spike stepped forward with his right foot and snapped the left side of his body forward as he pistoned his left fist hard into the pad on Angel's hand. Angel staggered back a step and smiled. "See? You have a lot more power that way because you put your weight behind it."

They'd been working for just about three hours and Spike was picking things up quickly. He was lean and wiry and had good balance which would make him a formidable fighter once he learned the moves. Angel had already taught him how to fall correctly and how to sweep an attacker's legs out from under him then kip back to his feet. Angel had grumbled out loud, but secretly he'd been pleased that Spike could do it faster than he could.

They'd also practiced throws. Spike had been skeptical that he could throw Angel, considering the difference in their sizes, and had been pleasantly surprised when Angel had gone flying over his shoulder to land in a heap at his feet. Once he'd seen it work, he'd quickly figured out the physics behind the moves and had rapidly mastered tossing Angel around like a volleyball.

Angel raised the pad. "One more time then I need a break. My hand is tingling."

Spike plowed his fist into the pad again then grinned as Angel stumbled back another couple of steps. "Think I've got it, Peaches."

Angel nodded and slipped the pad off his hand then flexed his fingers a few times. "Just remember that it's gonna hurt when you hit something other than this pad. If you hit bone, you're probably gonna break a few of your knuckles, so aim low for the gut if you can. Knock the wind out of them and while they're trying to get their breath back, you can either get away or put yourself in a more defensible position. Having a wall at your back is a good thing if you can find one." He dropped down into the grass and leaned back on his hands. "I'll teach you some throat punches, too. Those work well to disable them long enough to get away."

Spike nodded and sat down next to Angel, then lay back in the grass and folded his hands under his head. "I appreciate you helping me, Angel."

Angel lay back in the same position, shrugging as he tucked his hands under his head. "No problem. I like teaching. It's what I want to do, but my dad wants me to go to law school just like he did… after my professional football career is over, of course."

Spike turned his head. "You don't want to play football?"

Angel kept his eyes trained on the clouds floating overhead. "Not really. I mean, it's fun and everything, I just don't see it as a career choice. Don't want to be a lawyer, either. I want to open my own dojo, but I'll probably end up playing college ball and if I'm any good, I'll be drafted into the NFL. That would make my dad happier than a kid in a candy store. He was on that road, but he blew out his knee and that was that."

Spike nodded. "And now he wants to relive his glory days vicariously through you."

Angel sighed. "Yeah, and I don't see any way around it. If I tell him I don't want to go to college, his head will probably explode and he'll cut me off. I've got some money saved up, but not enough to open a business."

"What 'bout your Mum? She on the football-lawyer bandwagon as well?"

"Might as well be. She agrees with anything my dad says like she doesn't have a mind of her own. I haven't told her about what I want because it's pointless."

Spike turned his gaze back to the clouds. "If it were me, I'd tell her. Mums can be quite intractable when it comes to their children… she might surprise you."