Title: 6th Avenue Heartache (1/1)
Series: 'Karaoke' series. Story number 5.
Sequel to: 'Untitled'
Author: Horsey Spike
E-mail: HorseySpike@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: Characters don't belong to me. Joss and Co. owns them. Blah, blah, and blah. The song "6th Avenue Heartache," by The Wallflowers, off the album "Bringing Down the Horse," isn't mine either.
Distribution: SpikeNAngelFic archive and anyone else I've given permission to. All else, ask.
Spoilers: Basic Angel Season 1 spoilers, and BtVS Season 4.
Summary: _INSERT_SUMMARY_
Author's Notes: Since the chorus is repeated a lot, I stuck it in with the verse.
Dedicated to: _INSERT_PEOPLE'S_ NAMES_
____________
Angel had had a nice time dancing with Cordelia. But he had caught the way Wesley seemed kinda fake today in his conversations, like there was something going on in his head he didn't want to share. Angel didn't press, and Wesley left normal time, saying he'd be back the next day.
Angel was eager to have Spike sing him a song. Albeit, this would only be the seventh time Angel would hear Spike sing, it seemed like it had been going on forever.
Angel was on edge to hear the new song. After finding out Spike worked at the club, he had been slightly suprized, and now he couldn't wait to get a chance to talk to Spike again.
If nobody interupted.
So, for the seventh night in a row, Angel made his way into the karaoke club.
He made his way to the bar, per usual, to get himself a drink, to be less conspicous. He halfhearedly thought of standing in the shadows again, but decided against it, liking being able to see Spike clearly to much.
"Angel." The bartender greeted him, gathering a glass and pouring the drink, without Angel saying a word.
"Hey, John." Angel said, dropping a few bills on the bar.
"Saw you dancing with the chick last night. Girlfriend?" John pretended to be cool, but was looking at Angel, even with his head bent.
"Co-worker, and best friend." Angel corrected him. Angel smiled, thinking of the outspoken brunette, and everythig that they had been through.
"Ah." John's attention was called to someone farther down the bar, and he went.
Leaving Angel with his drink and his thoughts. Two things the Irish, broody vampire couldn't be without.
A slowish tune started up, and Angel automaticly swung around in his seat, just in time to see Spike stroll his way onto stage.
"Sirens ring, the shots ring out.
A stranger cries, screams out loud.
I had my world strapped against my back.
I held my hands, never knew how to act."
Spike had the mike in his hands, and was singing. Obviously.
His gaze found Angel at the bar, and smirked, when he noticed the drink in Angel's hands.
"And the same black line that was drawn on you
Was drawn on me
And now it's drawn me in.
6th Avenue heartache."
Black lines. Could Spike be refering to their demons? They both had one, and that was what connected them through this mess, they call un-life.
Spike motioned for Angel to come closer, but Angel refused with a shake of his head. Spike shrugged his shoulders, as if to say, "Your loss."
"Below me was a homeless man.
I'm singin' songs I knew complete.
On the steps alone, his guitar in hand,
It's fifty years, stood where he stands.
"And the same black line that was drawn on you
Was drawn on me
And now it's drawn me in.
6th Avenue heartache."
Spike didn't move off the stage, just kinda swayed there, going back and forth a little. He seemed lost in his song.
"Now walkin' home on those streets.
The river winds move my feet.
Subway steam, like silhouettes in dreams.
They stood by me, just like moonbeams.
"And the same black line that was drawn on you
Was drawn on me
And now it's drawn me in.
6th Avenue heartache."
Angel was mezorized by Spike. He seemed ethernal, eternal, and all those other words that had been used throughout the centuries to describe this amazing creature in front of him.
"Look out the window, down upon that street,
And gone like a midnight was that man.
But I see his six strings laid against that wall,
And all his things, they all look so small.
I got my fingers crossed on a shooting star.
Just like me-just moved on."
Moved on. Yeah, Spike did that. He moved on past the life he shared with Angelus to a new one with Drusilla no problem after Angelus got his soul.
Maybe not an easy transition, but nevertheless he got past it. A lot better then Angel himself did.
The first thing Angel wanted to do was go back to his childer. But he knew that Drusilla would be able to sense something wrong with him, even if he acted like the old Angelus. And if not her, than Will, who was so intune with Angelus. Plus, Angel didn't want to face them, if they were going to shun him like Darla did, and try to kill him.
"And the same black line that was drawn on you
Was drawn on me
And now it's drawn me in.
6th Avenue heartache."
Spike again found Angel in his gaze. He gave the dark-haired vampire a little wink, and a tilt of the head. Towards the back door.
"And now it's drawn me in."
Angel nodded slowly at Spike. He hadn't excepted to get a chance to talk to his childe so soon. He was suddenly slightly nervous.
"And the same black line that was drawn on you
Was drawn on me
And now it's drawn me in.
6th Avenue heartache."
Spike tucked the microphone in it's proper place, and walked out the back. Angel's eyes followed him, and when Spike disappeared from sight, Angel turned back to his drink, which he had yet again forgotten about, being wrapped up in Spike. Again.
Angel downed the rest of his drink and hurried after Spike before Spike left, or Angel chickened out.
The scene that met him when he went outside made him wish he's gotten out there sooner.
Spike had gotten attacked by three vampires. Normally not a challenage, they had caught him, right as he was stepping out of the door, lighting a ciggerette.
The two bulkier looking, previous football player looking ones had Spike by the arms, and the thrid was having a time punching Spike. Spike hung inbetween them.
Angel roared, ready to attack anyone and anything that hurt what was his, when Spike sprung in the air, ripping his arms out of the grasp of the two burly vampires. He turned in the air, and landed behind them, slamming their heads together. He tossed one of them over to Angel, who staked it without fanfare.
Spike faced off against the one that was left. This one was slightly skinnier, and wirey, smaller then Spike himself. But looks were almost always deceiving, and this one was not the exception.
He attack Spike, yelling something in the way of, "You'll pay for being a traitor," or some other stupid, cliched thing like that. Angel almost rolled his eyes, but jumped into action to save Spike.
Who really didn't need saving, because he was doing just fine on his own. He had already landed a mulitude of punches and kicks on the obviously younger vampire.
Angel watched, and seeing the leftover football player vamp start to wake up, went over and staked it before it had the chance to get up all the way.
Spike finished off the other, no real big surprise, and dusted himself off.
"So," Angel said casually. "Get jumped a lot?"
"Nah. I'm usually the one doing the jumping." Spike lit up the ciggerette he was trying to light earlier.
"Uh huh." Angel said, watching the bright end of the ciggerette. "And why is that?"
"Got to help out anyway I can, can't I?" Spike stubbed out his ciggerette, having not noticed that it was broken, preoccupied with Angel being there.
"I've got to get inside. They want me to sing another song tonight. But you run along, because I think you're little girly had a vision."
Spike went inside before Angel could ask him anything about that, and shaking his head, went to his car.
It wasn't until he got home that he realized he had followed Spike's instructions.
*END*
Series: 'Karaoke' series. Story number 5.
Sequel to: 'Untitled'
Author: Horsey Spike
E-mail: HorseySpike@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: Characters don't belong to me. Joss and Co. owns them. Blah, blah, and blah. The song "6th Avenue Heartache," by The Wallflowers, off the album "Bringing Down the Horse," isn't mine either.
Distribution: SpikeNAngelFic archive and anyone else I've given permission to. All else, ask.
Spoilers: Basic Angel Season 1 spoilers, and BtVS Season 4.
Summary: _INSERT_SUMMARY_
Author's Notes: Since the chorus is repeated a lot, I stuck it in with the verse.
Dedicated to: _INSERT_PEOPLE'S_ NAMES_
____________
Angel had had a nice time dancing with Cordelia. But he had caught the way Wesley seemed kinda fake today in his conversations, like there was something going on in his head he didn't want to share. Angel didn't press, and Wesley left normal time, saying he'd be back the next day.
Angel was eager to have Spike sing him a song. Albeit, this would only be the seventh time Angel would hear Spike sing, it seemed like it had been going on forever.
Angel was on edge to hear the new song. After finding out Spike worked at the club, he had been slightly suprized, and now he couldn't wait to get a chance to talk to Spike again.
If nobody interupted.
So, for the seventh night in a row, Angel made his way into the karaoke club.
He made his way to the bar, per usual, to get himself a drink, to be less conspicous. He halfhearedly thought of standing in the shadows again, but decided against it, liking being able to see Spike clearly to much.
"Angel." The bartender greeted him, gathering a glass and pouring the drink, without Angel saying a word.
"Hey, John." Angel said, dropping a few bills on the bar.
"Saw you dancing with the chick last night. Girlfriend?" John pretended to be cool, but was looking at Angel, even with his head bent.
"Co-worker, and best friend." Angel corrected him. Angel smiled, thinking of the outspoken brunette, and everythig that they had been through.
"Ah." John's attention was called to someone farther down the bar, and he went.
Leaving Angel with his drink and his thoughts. Two things the Irish, broody vampire couldn't be without.
A slowish tune started up, and Angel automaticly swung around in his seat, just in time to see Spike stroll his way onto stage.
"Sirens ring, the shots ring out.
A stranger cries, screams out loud.
I had my world strapped against my back.
I held my hands, never knew how to act."
Spike had the mike in his hands, and was singing. Obviously.
His gaze found Angel at the bar, and smirked, when he noticed the drink in Angel's hands.
"And the same black line that was drawn on you
Was drawn on me
And now it's drawn me in.
6th Avenue heartache."
Black lines. Could Spike be refering to their demons? They both had one, and that was what connected them through this mess, they call un-life.
Spike motioned for Angel to come closer, but Angel refused with a shake of his head. Spike shrugged his shoulders, as if to say, "Your loss."
"Below me was a homeless man.
I'm singin' songs I knew complete.
On the steps alone, his guitar in hand,
It's fifty years, stood where he stands.
"And the same black line that was drawn on you
Was drawn on me
And now it's drawn me in.
6th Avenue heartache."
Spike didn't move off the stage, just kinda swayed there, going back and forth a little. He seemed lost in his song.
"Now walkin' home on those streets.
The river winds move my feet.
Subway steam, like silhouettes in dreams.
They stood by me, just like moonbeams.
"And the same black line that was drawn on you
Was drawn on me
And now it's drawn me in.
6th Avenue heartache."
Angel was mezorized by Spike. He seemed ethernal, eternal, and all those other words that had been used throughout the centuries to describe this amazing creature in front of him.
"Look out the window, down upon that street,
And gone like a midnight was that man.
But I see his six strings laid against that wall,
And all his things, they all look so small.
I got my fingers crossed on a shooting star.
Just like me-just moved on."
Moved on. Yeah, Spike did that. He moved on past the life he shared with Angelus to a new one with Drusilla no problem after Angelus got his soul.
Maybe not an easy transition, but nevertheless he got past it. A lot better then Angel himself did.
The first thing Angel wanted to do was go back to his childer. But he knew that Drusilla would be able to sense something wrong with him, even if he acted like the old Angelus. And if not her, than Will, who was so intune with Angelus. Plus, Angel didn't want to face them, if they were going to shun him like Darla did, and try to kill him.
"And the same black line that was drawn on you
Was drawn on me
And now it's drawn me in.
6th Avenue heartache."
Spike again found Angel in his gaze. He gave the dark-haired vampire a little wink, and a tilt of the head. Towards the back door.
"And now it's drawn me in."
Angel nodded slowly at Spike. He hadn't excepted to get a chance to talk to his childe so soon. He was suddenly slightly nervous.
"And the same black line that was drawn on you
Was drawn on me
And now it's drawn me in.
6th Avenue heartache."
Spike tucked the microphone in it's proper place, and walked out the back. Angel's eyes followed him, and when Spike disappeared from sight, Angel turned back to his drink, which he had yet again forgotten about, being wrapped up in Spike. Again.
Angel downed the rest of his drink and hurried after Spike before Spike left, or Angel chickened out.
The scene that met him when he went outside made him wish he's gotten out there sooner.
Spike had gotten attacked by three vampires. Normally not a challenage, they had caught him, right as he was stepping out of the door, lighting a ciggerette.
The two bulkier looking, previous football player looking ones had Spike by the arms, and the thrid was having a time punching Spike. Spike hung inbetween them.
Angel roared, ready to attack anyone and anything that hurt what was his, when Spike sprung in the air, ripping his arms out of the grasp of the two burly vampires. He turned in the air, and landed behind them, slamming their heads together. He tossed one of them over to Angel, who staked it without fanfare.
Spike faced off against the one that was left. This one was slightly skinnier, and wirey, smaller then Spike himself. But looks were almost always deceiving, and this one was not the exception.
He attack Spike, yelling something in the way of, "You'll pay for being a traitor," or some other stupid, cliched thing like that. Angel almost rolled his eyes, but jumped into action to save Spike.
Who really didn't need saving, because he was doing just fine on his own. He had already landed a mulitude of punches and kicks on the obviously younger vampire.
Angel watched, and seeing the leftover football player vamp start to wake up, went over and staked it before it had the chance to get up all the way.
Spike finished off the other, no real big surprise, and dusted himself off.
"So," Angel said casually. "Get jumped a lot?"
"Nah. I'm usually the one doing the jumping." Spike lit up the ciggerette he was trying to light earlier.
"Uh huh." Angel said, watching the bright end of the ciggerette. "And why is that?"
"Got to help out anyway I can, can't I?" Spike stubbed out his ciggerette, having not noticed that it was broken, preoccupied with Angel being there.
"I've got to get inside. They want me to sing another song tonight. But you run along, because I think you're little girly had a vision."
Spike went inside before Angel could ask him anything about that, and shaking his head, went to his car.
It wasn't until he got home that he realized he had followed Spike's instructions.
*END*