I do apologize for the long wait between chapters. I am working on this story and I promise to finish it, but my muse is being a rather impertinent little pill at the moment. I want to say thank you to everyone who has hung in and alerted or reviewed. You guys make writing fun and without your encouragement, I probably wouldn't write at all, so thanks again.

Also, I hadn't planned on writing the Angel beat down scene, but a few of you asked for one, so I put one together. I hope I did it justice.–

Coming Through

Chapter Fifty One – Like a Rug

Angel watched with unbelieving eyes as Spike flopped into the chair, lazily draping one leg over the arm before downing Angel's half-drunk glass of Glenfiddich in one gulp. He sputtered indignantly as Spike refilled the glass and took a sip, "You're really going to just sit there?"

Spike smirked up at Angel, another button pushing smirk, and nodded. "Yep. Got nowhere else to be just now. 'Sides, I expect to be entertained forthwith." He threw another wink at Buffy and she smiled back.

Angel was about to say something else when Buffy's small fist slammed into his nose, causing him to stumble back a few steps. Spike winced slightly in sympathy, having been on the receiving end of that particular punch more times than he cared to count, then he chuckled quietly, "Always go for the nose, don't you, pet?"

Buffy grinned over at him. "Always shut you up, didn't it?"

Spike nodded. "That it did, luv, but I think you went a bit easier on the poofter there than you ever did on me. The crunching noise seemed a bit louder when it was my nose…" He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Although, could be 'cause I was hearin' it from the inside and outside at the same time."

Buffy grinned just a little wider then popped Angel in the nose again. "How was that?"

Spike gave an amused nod. "Better, pet. Heard it loud and clear that time." He motioned toward the glowering vampire who was using the sleeve of his expensive silk shirt to wipe blood from his nose. "Please continue."

Buffy glanced at Angel then smirked at Spike. "What next?"

Angel opened his mouth to speak again but Spike spoke before he could manage a sound. "Throat. That'll keep the wanker quiet for a bit."

Buffy immediately punched Angel in the throat then grabbed his head and slammed it into her knee before he even had the chance to clutch at his neck. He staggered backwards as soon as she let go then was spun around and dropped to his knees when her boot connected with the side of his head in a high kick.

Spike took a leisurely sip from his glass and snorted. "You can fight back, you know. Ponce."

Angel shook his head as he sat back on his haunches and rested his hands on his thighs. He coughed a few times and his voice was scratchy and rough when he murmured, "No. I'm not going to fight her."

Spike snorted again. "Why not? She's the Slayer, you nit. Chit loves to fight and she's thumped nasties a helluva lot scarier 'n you, so you'd better check to see if you've still got your wrinklies then get off your arse and give the girl what she wants for once in your miserable existence."

Angel nodded slightly, even though it severely grated on his nerves to agree with anything Spike said, then he rolled his shoulders and climbed slowly to his feet, turning to face Buffy. He closed his eyes for several seconds to steady and center himself then dropped into a fighting stance. Buffy smiled and bent down to snag the edge of the coffee table, dragging it over next to the wall. Spike got out of his chair and started pushing it in the same direction, pulling the small side table along with him. When the floor was cleared and Spike was comfortably sprawled across the chair again, Buffy turned to face Angel and raised her fists, bobbing lightly on the balls of her feet. "All right, Angel. Let's do this."

Angel launched himself at the small woman with a snarl, fists and feet flying. He caught her in the ribs with a well placed kick and she grunted as she stumbled sideways and blocked a punch. She dropped and swung her leg out, knocking Angel's right foot out from under him just as the left one went sailing over her head. He hit the floor with a loud thud and she raised her boot, bringing the heel crashing down on his sternum in a blow that would've killed a human. He folded up and rolled away from her, springing to his feet as he rubbed his chest.

They circled each other in the small space, feinting punches and kicks as they sized each other up. She faked left then darted under Angel's outstretched arm, landing several vicious rabbit punches to his ribs and belly before backing off and launching another round house kick at his head. He flew across the room and landed in a heap then slid into Spike's chair, knocking it against the wall. Spike licked a few drops of scotch off his hand then reached down and thumped Angel in the forehead as he chuckled, "C'mon, Peaches, now's not the time to be snoozin'. Up and at 'em."

Angel sat up and scowled at Spike's amused smile then got back to his feet just in time to take another kick to the head. He was spun around again and a kick to his lower back sent him crashing headfirst into the fireplace, cracking the stone and sending the logs flying. He was still for a few minutes then he slowly rolled over and sat up, brushing ashes and bits of wood out of his hair and off his clothes.

Buffy was lounging against the wall inspecting her fingernails as Angel climbed once again to his feet and assumed a fighting stance. She looked up at him then took a few steps forward as she smiled. "You want some more?"

Angel snarled and charged across the room, intending to tackle her to the floor. Buffy tensed almost imperceptibly as she waited, then spun out of the way at the last possible second. As he barreled past her, she planted her hands in the middle of his back and shoved with all her might, sending him crashing into the wall with a loud bang and leaving an Angel shaped dent in the drywall. He bounced off and landed flat on his back in the middle of the floor and she put her hands on her hips as she pouted, "Oh, come on! How freaking old are you? I've battled fledges fresh out of the ground that put up more of a fight!"

Spike chuckled from his chair as he sat up and patted his thigh, "His heart's not in it, luv. Doesn't have the proper motivation."

Buffy looked at Spike then smirked at the fallen vampire as her eyes twinkled, "Motivation? Yeah, okay." She strode purposefully across the room and straddled Spike's lap, immediately pulling him into a heated kiss. The glass he'd been clutching fell to the floor with a muffled thump as his hands slipped under her shirt, sliding against her soft skin and pulling a moan from her throat. Her fingers tangled in his hair and pulled his mouth to her neck, placing it directly over his mark as she breathily whispered, "Do it, Spike. Show him that I'm yours."

Spike's possessive growl and the low crunch of shifting bone were all the warning Buffy got before his fangs were buried in her throat. His amber eyes met Angel's furious glare over her shoulder as he pulled two mouthfuls then slipped his fangs out with a snarled, "Mine!"

Buffy's whispered, "Yours," was almost buried in the sounds of Angel scrambling to his feet as Spike quickly sealed the bite. He slipped his hands out of Buffy's shirt with a wink and a nod just as Angel's hand wrapped around her arm and jerked her off his lap. She flew across the room, flipping once in the air as she silently thanked the original builders of the mansion for the high ceilings. She landed lightly just in front of the fireplace and dropped immediately into a fighting stance. "Guess that was enough motivation to get you to fight for real, huh, Angelus?"

His response was a fangy roar as he spun and launched himself at Spike, straddling him and pinning the smaller vampire to the chair as he proceeded to pummel anything within reach of his fists. He managed to get in half a dozen hits before Spike bucked up, shoving him off just as Buffy's small hand twisted into the back of his shirt and tossed him across the room. He didn't flip gracefully through the air like she had, though. He plowed through it like a stampeding bull and crashed into the fireplace with a pained grunt.

Buffy quickly checked Spike over, her simmering anger suddenly flaring brightly into rage as she took in the fresh cut on his cheekbone and the bruises blooming on his face. He smiled crookedly at her and nodded toward the fireplace with a murmured, "Let 'im have it, Slayer."

Buffy nodded and stomped across the room. She reached down and fisted her hand in Angel's shirt then lifted him out of the pile of splintered logs and slammed him into the wall beside the fireplace. "What is wrong with you?" A hard punch to the gut. "Who the hell do you think you are?" An uppercut to his chin that sent his head crashing back into the wall. "Why do you think you can pound on my boyfriend every time you show up here?" A sharp jab to the ribs.

Angel was gasping in pain as he held up his hands. "I only want what's best for you, Buffy, and that little bleached idiot isn't it. You need to…"

"You don't get to tell me what I need!" She punched him viciously in the gut and he doubled over.

Angel slowly straightened back up then slumped against the wall clutching his belly. "He'll only end up hurting you, Buffy, and you deserve better than that monster. Just stake him and be done with it. If you don't, I will."

Buffy snarled and lashed out with her full strength, slamming her small fists into Angel's ribs and stomach. "You." Punch "Are." Punch "Not." Punch "The." Punch "Boss." Punch "Of." Punch "Me!" She stepped back and Angel pitched forward, crashing to the carpet face first. Buffy waited while he pushed himself to his knees then back to his feet, swaying slightly, and held up her hand before he could speak. "A. – He's not a monster, not anymore, and he was only a monster because you and Drusilla made him that way. Even you, as clueless as you are, had to have noticed how he acts when he's not around you two. Once he figured out how to be his own vampire and got out from under your thumbs, he stopped acting like a monster, didn't he? B. – I love him and I know he'd die before he did anything to hurt me. And C. – Nobody is going to stake him, especially not you." She crossed her arms over her chest and stood staring at him as she nodded over her shoulder at a silent and awed Spike. "Now, don't you have something you want to say to him? Something that sounds like 'I'm sorry I tortured and raped you for years and years?' Hmmm?"

Angel glanced over at Spike then stubbornly shook his head and Buffy sighed, "Kinda what I thought. You're never going to apologize to him, are you?" Angel shook his head again and Buffy sighed louder, "Because you don't think you did anything wrong. It wasn't you, it was Angelus. Right?"

Angel hesitantly nodded and Buffy sadly shook her head. "You're never going to figure it out, are you? There is no you and Angelus, you idiot! You're the same freaking person! Your soul is pretty much the same as Spike's chip, but at least he never tried to push off what he'd done before he got it by whining, 'It wasn't me, it was chipless Spike' like you do Every. Single. Time. somebody brings up something from your past. You did those things, Angel. YOU. Own up to it. Deal with it." She took a small step forward, dropping her arms and clenching her hands into fists. "And apologize to him. Now."

Angel raised his eyes to hers and forcefully shook his head, opening his mouth to say that he'd dust before he ever apologized to Spike, but she was on him before he could get a word out, landing rage-powered punches and kicks as she beat the large vampire like a rug.