TITLE: Promises Fulfilled (1/1)
AUTHOR: Horsey Spike
E-MAIL: HorseySpike@aol.com
SUMMARY: Angel makes good on one promise
SPOILERS: 'Graduation Day'- Season finale of BtVS Season 3- Nothing major- Plus for the previous story in the series.
DISCLAIMER: Angel and Spike don't belong to me, and neither does any other BtVS stuff.
FEEDBACK: Por favor.
DISTRIBUTION: Want. Ask. Have.

Vienna
December 31, 2000
Turn of the millennium
---

Spike stood alone on the balcony, listening as enthusiastic mortals shot off their fireworks, and partied in the streets, everyone waiting for the hour of the countdown that would symbolize the coming of the next millennium.

Spike had turned his back to the festivities, and was studying the interior of the room. It was the same. Okay, some things had changed, but it had been restored to the condition it had been when he had last been in this room.

Just as requested.

The fireplace had a crackling fire, the desk in the corner had a ink holder and quill, along with a blotter. The bed was fastened with clothes that looked like they came from history books, covered with pillows, the canopy a light beige color.

The rug on the ground was of imported fashion, almost exact same pattern as the one that had been there before. The wardrobe was the same one, just restored. It contained Spike's leather duster, and the bag of weapons and clothes he had not bothered to unpack.

He had been there for two days. Two days by himself. Two days of listening to mortals pound up and down stairs, and two nights of roaming the streets, trying to find the old haunts, and trying to see the changes, and trying to find something of the time he had last been here, to prove that everything that happened here was not a dream, and had actually happened.

But Angel wasn't here. He had promised to be here. No matter what happened between them, be it they were together, or a world apart, they were to meet at Vienna at the turn of the millennium. And Angelus never made promises he didn't intend to keep.

Spike may not have looked it, but he was crushed. He had expected Angel to come. Sure, Angel wasn't Angelus, but there was something there, and Spike was scolding himself for brooding. He should be out there, enjoying the local blood, for that was one thing that had not changed over the century. The blood was still good.

Spike had last seen Angel in Sunnydale, during 1999, early May. Angel had been dying. Spike had been heading past Sunnydale, when he caught whiff of his sire being in trouble. So, he had stopped in, if even for a good laugh.

But instead, he had found a vampire dying of poison, and it had moved him to the core of his being, dredging up feelings he had long since thought he had gotten over.

And he had sat at his sire's side, and cried like a baby losing it's favorite toy. Or like a son losing a father.

Spike had stayed clear of Sunnydale after that. Then he heard Angel went to LA, so he stayed clear of LA too. He didn't want to talk about anything he had said during those few, weird moments when Angel was on the brink of death.

But, still he had expected Angel to come. Spike almost slammed his fist through the wardrobe, but stopped himself before his punch shattered the wood. He did not want that.

Mind made up, he pulled his duster out the there, and slid it on, closing the wardobe door, to see Angel standing right in front of him, little smirk on his face, and bag at his feet.

Spike stopped with his duster half on, and just stared at Angel, like he was seeing things. Spike blinked, and Angel was still there.

"Going somewhere?" Angel asked with a hint of amusement. He had crept up the stairs to the room he knew Spike would be in, and saw the little fit Spike was having. No doubt over Angel not being there yet.

But what can you do with a demon threatening the apocalypse two hours before your flight to Vienna? Angel was forced to cancel his flight, and, after the demon was dead, hadn't been able to snag the next one, and couldn't get on a plane until a miraculous seat had appeared 15 minutes before take off. And here Angel was.

He was lucky to get a seat at all. Being so close to New Year's, he had to book his flight almost a year and a half in advance. The night flight poised another problem. But, he got there, albeit only an hour before midnight and the new millennium.

Spike snapped his jaw shut at the question, and took his duster off and hung it back up, postponing the time they would actually talk. Spike wanted to savor this moment. Angel had actually come, and was standing before him, looking his best. Spike almost sighed.

Almost.

"I thought you weren't coming." He admitted to Angel, looking into his eyes, searching them for something, though he wasn't sure what.

"I promised I would, didn't I?" Angel said, brushing a strand of Spike's un-gelled hair away from his forehead. "And here I am."

Spike bowed his head, as if ashamed for thinking his sire wasn't coming.

"You been enjoying the cuisine? I bet it hasn't changed." Angel took off his own coat, and threw it own the bed, as he walked around the room.

"Yeah. It never does change. You know that." Spike answered, still standing by the wardrobe.

Angel gave him a faint smile, and took a stroll around the room, lost in his thoughts. He went to the balcony and came back. He looked at Spike.

"This place hasn't changed a bit. You'd think they'd update it." Angel mused aloud.

"Actually," Spike said, "I asked for it to be restored to this condition." Angel raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. "Anyway, you sod, I heard you've been living in LA. The Slayer not work out with you?"

Angel smiled again, softly. "Yes, I moved to LA. I left Buffy. I had planned to leave before I got poisoned. It hurt."

"It always does to leave a loved one." Spike murmured from where he was.

"Yeah." Angel paused. "I work with Cordelia." He said, with a grin.

"You work with the bitch? No wonder you've got a rep for killing demons. You probably have to kill something with her around." Spike whistled, as he thought about his sire with the outspoken girl.

"Cordelia's not that bad, Spike. She actually has gained a little, what is it called, tact? She's becoming more of a person, and an important person at that." Another pause. "I also have a fired Watcher working for me."

"Who? The only one I've heard that got fired is your Slayer's. And I doubt he'd leave her, even being not a Watcher." Spike walked away from the wardrobe and closer to Angel.

"Wesley. Buffy's second Watcher in Sunnydale."

Spike whistled again. "She's got a track record. Heard the first one died, the second fired for being too fatherly, and the next working for you. How much lower could the next one go?"

"Spike." Angel warned. Spike sent him a grin.

"Now, I've told you what's been happening with me. What's been happening with you? The Watchers haven't heard anything since your drunken spell quest, and even I haven't seen you since, well, you know."

Spike took a breath and let it out. "Well, I left the country. Back to Brazil. To find Dru, you know. The tying thing I told you about didn't work, and I was going up past Sunnydale when I stopped in on you. I went back to Brazil after that. Dru had forgotten that sun killed us, and had wandered into it when in one of her fits. The idiot minions wouldn't risk their own lives to save her. Needless to say, they wished they had." Spike let another breath go as he closed his eyes at the memory of the minions telling him Drusilla had immolated herself. After killing all the minions, Spike had sat around and cried, until he almost wasted away to nothing, when he smartened up, and fed.

Angel didn't say nothing. A league of emotions were running through his heart. One was cheering because the crazy vampiress was gone, another crying because the woman he had spent under half his unlife with was gone forever. He closed his eyes also, remembering the young woman Drusilla had been, and glad she was out of the insane mind Angelus had made for her.

"After I got through that," Spike continued his story. "I headed away from the West Coast. As nice as it is, too many bad memories. I went to the older cities, two hundred years and up, looking at all the historical things, and being a broody sap, remembering all Dru and me had. I also drank a lot. And now the millennium has come upon us, and here we are." Spike had walked closer to Angel, so they less then three feet apart.

"Here we are." Angel agreed. He had watched as the emotions Spike was feeling for Dru's death play over his features. Though it had happened a little over a year ago, that was not enough time to heal a hundred year love wound.

Angel opened his arms, and without a word from either, Spike ran to the safety of them, crying, silent tears, having shared this with his sire, and Dru's sire.

Angel cradled him in his arms, rocking back and forth, and Spike let go of some of the emotions holding him hostage. Angel rested his cheek against the top of Spike's head.

Spike felt cool tears hitting his head, from above, and he assumed Angel was shedding tears over Dru, while the tears were really for Spike, and all the pain he had to endure alone.

"Why didn't you come to me?" Angel asked, after they parted after an uncountable amount of time.

"Afraid you would laugh, or be glad, and I couldn't deal with that. I might have killed you. So I stayed away." Spike sniffled once, pulling out of Angel's embrace far enough to look into his eyes. "You wouldn't have, right? You wouldn't have laughed at Dru being dead?"

"Never, my boy, never." Angel murmured, pulling Spike in close again. Spike buried his face under Angel's neck, and sniffed again.

Again, they didn't know how much time had passed, and would have stayed like that till the new year, but a knock on the door interrupted them.

They broke apart, Spike turning away from the door, wiping his face free of tears. Angel cast another glance at him, then went to answer the door.

"Sirs, you're champagne." A servant of the house held up a bottle of champagne. "The countdown's to begin in 15 minutes."

Angel nodded and stepped aside, allowing him to enter. Another servant followed with a tray with two glasses, and a pitcher of ice. They set it up with clean efficiency, Spike coming back to join Angel at his side.

"If you need anything else, please contact the front." The first servant nodded to the phone that was carefully set upon the desk, the only modern thing in the room. They left.

The champagne chilling, Angel led Spike to the balcony with a slight smile, to watch the mortals down below in the streets.

"Not much has changed." Angel noticed, watching the police come to clear some people out.

"Unless you count they were usually running from us in fear." Spike said, giving Angel a grin. Angel shook his head, mock-exasperation, and pulled Spike close with his arm around Spike's shoulders. Spike rested his head on Angel's shoulders, staring out at the dim below.

Spike didn't want anything to break up this moment. Time could stay still for all he cared, as long as he got to continue this with Angel, everything from the past put behind them, especially Sunnydale, and it made no difference to how they were now and here. It was a place out of time, out of the boundaries, out of the fight between good and evil. They were just two men together, for that moment, and nothing else mattered.

Angel didn't want anything to break up this moment. Everything had stopped for the brunette vampire, and he didn't want to go back to LA, and have to deal with evil things. He just wanted to stay here, with his boy. He didn't care if time never moved again. Everything behind them was there: behind them. It didn't matter that Spike had tried to kill him or Buffy. It didn't matter that Angel had stolen Dru away. They were just two beings together, reunited, for a moment in time, and nothing else mattered.

The minutes rolled by like that, each man not wanting it to end. They pulled apart by mutual unspoken consent, and smiled identical smiles at each other, which spoke of their feelings from the past minutes.

"How 'bout some bubbly?" Spike asked in a whisper, loathe to speak, but did anyway. "I'm guessing it's about time for the countdown."

Angel nodded, and they went to get some champagne. Pouring glasses, they heard "TEN!" yelled from outside.

Spike and Angel went back to the balcony, watching the people scream and dance.

"NINE!"

Spike's gaze shifted to the large TV screen that was broadcasting what was happening in the crowd

"EIGHT!"

Angel watched as the cops stopped doing their job and start counting down with the people.

"SEVEN!"

Spike saw a person in the crowd get crushed by a wave of people run up and knocked bunches of other people down.

"SIX!"

Angel saw the same crush, and wince as several people got mauled by the bloodthirsty crowd.

"FIVE!"

Spike watched as the people got more excited and rowdy.

"FOUR!"

Angel watched as the people got more excited and rowdy.

"THREE!"

Spike's gaze drifted it's way to Angel.

"TWO!"

Angel's gaze drifted it's way to Spike.

"ONE!"

Their gazes locked.

"HAPPY NEW YEARS!"

Their lips met as the mortals let go of screams and made noise noisemakers. They didn't pay any attention. They were just two beings locked together for one instant in time, and nothing else mattered.

Spike was caught in his sire's presence, and Angel caught in Spike's. They merged as one being, just with their lips. Too long, too many years between this.

It did not grow, but continued the same. Spike had his arms wrapped around the back over Angel's neck, and Angel's hands cupped Spike's head.

Eventually they noticed that the cheering had changed, and broke apart, seeing everyone was facing their balcony. Spike shot his eyes to the TV screen and was surprised to see his own image, as well as Angel's on the screen. He jabbed Angel in the ribs and motioned to the screen.

If Angel could blush, his face would've been bright red. Spike was grinning and waved to the crowd, blowing kisses out at them. Angel dragged him off the balcony and into the room, Spike still blowing kisses.

Once out of sight from the crowd, Spike turned to Angel, big grin in place.

"That was great!" He practically shouted. "They love us."

"Would've liked that to be more private." Angel murmured.

"Then you shouldn't kiss on balconies." Spike told him. He took a sip of his near forgotten about champagne. Angel set his down on the desk, without tasting it.

Spike sat on the bed, ignoring the chairs on the other side of the room, and patted beside him, indicating Angel to sit with him. Angel did.

They sat in silence for a little while, Spike still grinning from the television exposure, and Angel silent, contemplating what would happen next.

"So," Spike said after a little bit. "What are you going to do now?"

"Oh, hmm." Angel moved his head from side to side, thinking. "I was thinking of taking a flight out of here tomorrow night."

Spike's face fell.

"To Ireland." Angel continued. He watched Spike's face with a little smirk. "I didn't think you got tickets, so I booked you a seat too."

"Really?" Spike couldn't keep from sounding child-like with his question.

"Really." Angel smiled. "And then to England." Spike face brightened up in a great big smile. He was pleased Angel remembered that part of the promise.

"What?" Angel asked, "You think I wouldn't remember?" Spike averted his eyes, ashamed. "Remember," Angel grabbed his chin and made Spike look him in the eyes. "I never make a promise I don't intend to keep, no matter what happens."

Spike nodded a little.

"But-"

"Shh." Angel put his finger to Spike's lips. "Nothing matters compared to you. Not Buffy, and not my redemption. You're mine. And I promised you eternity, did I not? That's what we have, eternity, and why waste it on the little things?"

Angel leaned in for another kiss, and Spike met his lips before he knew what was happening. Again, Angel had a point. Eternity. They had it. It was the start of a new millennium.

Why should Spike make a big deal out of the little things?

-End

Next part is in the making.