Title: Painted On My Heart (1/1)
Series: 'Karaoke' series. Story number 6.
Sequel to: '6th Avenue Heartache'
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, "Painted On My Heart," by The Cult, off the "Gone in 60 Seconds," soundtrack 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. Uses some rumors for Angel: Season 2.
Summary: Spike's got Angel painted on his heart.
Author's Notes: I just want to say I'm sorry to all those who don't get to see The Cult in concert this year because they canceled, and I'd like to take this moment to annouce that I do in fact have a ticket to the sold-out show on Saturday, that is one of the only shows in the US that The Cult is doing this year. Thank you.
Author's Notes 2: I couldn't help working in the rumor I heard about a karaoke bar on Angel. Sue me.
**This is dedicated to all those poor people who live in the US and wanted to see The Cult and The Cult canceled their appearence near your city. My heart goes out to you. But I'm not sure if it's painted on it. (Okay, I'm stopped making the stupid jokes about the song title)**
______________
The ninth night in a row. In baseball, this would be the last inning of the game. Unless there was overtime. And Angel had figured in a lot of overtime.
Ninth night. Ninth gate. Angel hoped of no relationship.
After leaving the club the previous night, Angel had returned home, his head full of thoughts of Buffy and Spike, and the weird threesome he had going on with them. But Buffy would never go in for that with Spike, plus there is the whole soul issue.
Angel doesn't know about the plan Cordelia's got hatching right under his nose. And he doesn't know his soul's permant. Hmm. Someone should tell him these things.
The ever oblvious Angel, (Wonder if he picked that up from the Sunnydalians?) walked into the club, looking around, being the predator he was.
A lion on the prowl, and tiger ready to snatch his victim. And this victim was a handsome, blond haired man.
But, now, the bartender.
"Usual." Angel said.
"I know." Said the bartender. He passed Angel his drink.
"You look like you're on the prowl." John noted, watching Angel survey the club.
"Yeah." Angel said, still noting everything about the club, and promising that he was not going to let Spike get out of his grip this time.
"So, where's the pretty brunette that followed you out of the club last night?"
"What?" The bartender had finally caught Angel's full attention.
"You know, the tall, pretty one, long hair, nice bod-"
"Yes, yes, I know who you're talking about." Angel said impactiently. "What I want to know is, what she was doing when you saw her."
"Oh, she went out that back door not long after you did. Didn't come back in, so I figured she met up with you." The bartender paused. "Isn't she a seer?"
"Don't you mean a looker?" Angel asked.
"No, I met seer."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I just wanted to know if she was a seer. 'Cause from all reports, you're Angel, from Angel Investigations, and the one who just walked onto the stage is your favorite childe."
Angel mouth dropped, and he had to stop himself from blinking in confusion.
John gave him a smile. "Go on, go watch him. We'll talk tomorrow."
Angel nodded dumbly, as he followed the man's orders, and went to watch Spike sing.
Spike met Angel's gaze, and Angel felt himself being sucked in, and drawn closer to the stage.
The music cued up, and Spike started to sing.
"I thought you'd be out of my mind,
And I'd finally found a way to learn to live without you.
I thought it was just a matter of time,
'Til I had hundred reasons not to think about you."
No, this wasn't talking about him and Spike, Angel has no idea what your talking about.
Actually, it was right from Spike view of their relationship after Angelus left with his soul intact. Angelus left, William was crushed, and tried so hard to put Angelus from his mind, when Darla said he was never returning.
Nothing worked.
"But it's just not so,
And after all this time,
I still can't let go."
Nothing worked, and Spike still had Angel on his mind have these many years. Sure, a good, healthy dose of hate was mixed in there, but overall, Spike loves his sire. Except for that little period a couple years ago when the crazy Angelus returned.
Angel found himself absorbed in the song.
"I've still got your face
Painted on my heart,
Drawn upon my soul,
Etched upon my memories, baby."
"You don't have a soul." Angel whispered softly, knowing that if Spike was listening, he would be able to hear him.
Spike scowled at Angel, showing he had indeed heard what Angel said. Angel chuckled.
"And I've got your kiss still burning on my lips,
The touch of your fingertips
You struck so deep inside of me, baby."
Angel stopped chuckling abruptly with the next lines. Spike still wanted him. Angelus inside crowed with joy, and Angel with the soul, tried to keep his expression to a neutral. He hoped it was working.
He gave one glance back at the bar, but the weird bartender was busy. Angel would have to ponder that one at a later date.
"I'm tried every thing that I can
To get my heart to forget you,
But it just can't seem to."
Spike can't forget him. Angel can't forget Spike. Same deal for both, neither wants for admit it. Men, hmph. ((No offense to you guys out there.))
"I guess it's just no use.
You're every part of me,
And still I'm a part of you."
Spike pointed to Angel while he sang. Angel got it. The blood they shared never went away, it only stregthened with time. They were bonded in a way mortals couldn't and wouldn't conprehend.
It was something Angel had ignored when he got his soul back. Somewhere, deep inside of himself, he regreted that desicion. He knew now that William would have taken him in, no matter what.
Drusilla, on the other hand, might have been a little harder to convince.
"And I've still got your face
Painted on my heart,
Drawn upon my soul,
Etched upon my memories, baby."
Spike stepped off the stage, and moved towards Angel, his gaze never leaving him. The people that noticed the connection between the two were startled, and amazed, and stepped back to watch what was to happen.
The ones who didn't notice this connection were ignorant.
"And I got your kiss still burning on my lips,
The touch of your fingertips
You struck so deep inside of me, baby."
Spike was still moving towards Angel. The crowd kept getting in his way, and he was trying to not be fruserated and shove people. The PTB fronwed down on that and might send him one of those head-wrenching visions that he really didn't enjoy. And it would be bad to colpase in pain singing in front of mortals.
"I've still got your face
Painted on my heart
Painted on my heart
Painted on my heart."
Spike reached Angel, and when he sang 'Painted on my heart,' he touched his heart. On the next one he kissed his fingertips. On the last one, he touched his fingers to Angel's heart.
"Soon we talk." Spike promised Angel, his eyes convoying that he was speaking the truth. Angel nodded once, not trusting his voice.
Spike grinned, and continued singing.
"Something in your eyes keeps haunting me,
And I've tried to escape,
And I know there ain't no way to
Chase you from my heart."
Spike was happy looking now, and looked over the whole crowd, the bartender catching his eye, and then Cordelia in the very back, were Angel couldn't see her. Spike thought he saw another one on Angel's flunkies, but couldn't be sure.
"And I've still got your face
Painted on my heart,
Drawn upon my soul,
Etched upon my memories, baby.
And I got your kiss still burning on my lips,
The touch of your fingertips
You struck so deep inside of me, baby."
Angel knew the song was winding down, but he didn't want it too. He wanted to enjoy Spike's singing more. He wanted Spike to sing more.
"I've still got your face,
Still got your face,
Painted on my heart,
Painted on my heart."
Spike put the microphone back in it's stand, mouthed 'Tomorrow' to Angel, and headed out the back. Angel smiled to himself, and went for the enterence, not wanting to go back and talk to the bartender, and not wanting to see anyone else. He wanted to be left alone with his thoughts.
Spike met John outside.
"Good job," John said. "We'll have him soon."
"Yeah." Spike blew out the smoke from his ciggerete. "Soon."
*END*
Aren't I the meany? But, soon, dear readers who have made it this far, all will be explained.
Series: 'Karaoke' series. Story number 6.
Sequel to: '6th Avenue Heartache'
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, "Painted On My Heart," by The Cult, off the "Gone in 60 Seconds," soundtrack 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. Uses some rumors for Angel: Season 2.
Summary: Spike's got Angel painted on his heart.
Author's Notes: I just want to say I'm sorry to all those who don't get to see The Cult in concert this year because they canceled, and I'd like to take this moment to annouce that I do in fact have a ticket to the sold-out show on Saturday, that is one of the only shows in the US that The Cult is doing this year. Thank you.
Author's Notes 2: I couldn't help working in the rumor I heard about a karaoke bar on Angel. Sue me.
**This is dedicated to all those poor people who live in the US and wanted to see The Cult and The Cult canceled their appearence near your city. My heart goes out to you. But I'm not sure if it's painted on it. (Okay, I'm stopped making the stupid jokes about the song title)**
______________
The ninth night in a row. In baseball, this would be the last inning of the game. Unless there was overtime. And Angel had figured in a lot of overtime.
Ninth night. Ninth gate. Angel hoped of no relationship.
After leaving the club the previous night, Angel had returned home, his head full of thoughts of Buffy and Spike, and the weird threesome he had going on with them. But Buffy would never go in for that with Spike, plus there is the whole soul issue.
Angel doesn't know about the plan Cordelia's got hatching right under his nose. And he doesn't know his soul's permant. Hmm. Someone should tell him these things.
The ever oblvious Angel, (Wonder if he picked that up from the Sunnydalians?) walked into the club, looking around, being the predator he was.
A lion on the prowl, and tiger ready to snatch his victim. And this victim was a handsome, blond haired man.
But, now, the bartender.
"Usual." Angel said.
"I know." Said the bartender. He passed Angel his drink.
"You look like you're on the prowl." John noted, watching Angel survey the club.
"Yeah." Angel said, still noting everything about the club, and promising that he was not going to let Spike get out of his grip this time.
"So, where's the pretty brunette that followed you out of the club last night?"
"What?" The bartender had finally caught Angel's full attention.
"You know, the tall, pretty one, long hair, nice bod-"
"Yes, yes, I know who you're talking about." Angel said impactiently. "What I want to know is, what she was doing when you saw her."
"Oh, she went out that back door not long after you did. Didn't come back in, so I figured she met up with you." The bartender paused. "Isn't she a seer?"
"Don't you mean a looker?" Angel asked.
"No, I met seer."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I just wanted to know if she was a seer. 'Cause from all reports, you're Angel, from Angel Investigations, and the one who just walked onto the stage is your favorite childe."
Angel mouth dropped, and he had to stop himself from blinking in confusion.
John gave him a smile. "Go on, go watch him. We'll talk tomorrow."
Angel nodded dumbly, as he followed the man's orders, and went to watch Spike sing.
Spike met Angel's gaze, and Angel felt himself being sucked in, and drawn closer to the stage.
The music cued up, and Spike started to sing.
"I thought you'd be out of my mind,
And I'd finally found a way to learn to live without you.
I thought it was just a matter of time,
'Til I had hundred reasons not to think about you."
No, this wasn't talking about him and Spike, Angel has no idea what your talking about.
Actually, it was right from Spike view of their relationship after Angelus left with his soul intact. Angelus left, William was crushed, and tried so hard to put Angelus from his mind, when Darla said he was never returning.
Nothing worked.
"But it's just not so,
And after all this time,
I still can't let go."
Nothing worked, and Spike still had Angel on his mind have these many years. Sure, a good, healthy dose of hate was mixed in there, but overall, Spike loves his sire. Except for that little period a couple years ago when the crazy Angelus returned.
Angel found himself absorbed in the song.
"I've still got your face
Painted on my heart,
Drawn upon my soul,
Etched upon my memories, baby."
"You don't have a soul." Angel whispered softly, knowing that if Spike was listening, he would be able to hear him.
Spike scowled at Angel, showing he had indeed heard what Angel said. Angel chuckled.
"And I've got your kiss still burning on my lips,
The touch of your fingertips
You struck so deep inside of me, baby."
Angel stopped chuckling abruptly with the next lines. Spike still wanted him. Angelus inside crowed with joy, and Angel with the soul, tried to keep his expression to a neutral. He hoped it was working.
He gave one glance back at the bar, but the weird bartender was busy. Angel would have to ponder that one at a later date.
"I'm tried every thing that I can
To get my heart to forget you,
But it just can't seem to."
Spike can't forget him. Angel can't forget Spike. Same deal for both, neither wants for admit it. Men, hmph. ((No offense to you guys out there.))
"I guess it's just no use.
You're every part of me,
And still I'm a part of you."
Spike pointed to Angel while he sang. Angel got it. The blood they shared never went away, it only stregthened with time. They were bonded in a way mortals couldn't and wouldn't conprehend.
It was something Angel had ignored when he got his soul back. Somewhere, deep inside of himself, he regreted that desicion. He knew now that William would have taken him in, no matter what.
Drusilla, on the other hand, might have been a little harder to convince.
"And I've still got your face
Painted on my heart,
Drawn upon my soul,
Etched upon my memories, baby."
Spike stepped off the stage, and moved towards Angel, his gaze never leaving him. The people that noticed the connection between the two were startled, and amazed, and stepped back to watch what was to happen.
The ones who didn't notice this connection were ignorant.
"And I got your kiss still burning on my lips,
The touch of your fingertips
You struck so deep inside of me, baby."
Spike was still moving towards Angel. The crowd kept getting in his way, and he was trying to not be fruserated and shove people. The PTB fronwed down on that and might send him one of those head-wrenching visions that he really didn't enjoy. And it would be bad to colpase in pain singing in front of mortals.
"I've still got your face
Painted on my heart
Painted on my heart
Painted on my heart."
Spike reached Angel, and when he sang 'Painted on my heart,' he touched his heart. On the next one he kissed his fingertips. On the last one, he touched his fingers to Angel's heart.
"Soon we talk." Spike promised Angel, his eyes convoying that he was speaking the truth. Angel nodded once, not trusting his voice.
Spike grinned, and continued singing.
"Something in your eyes keeps haunting me,
And I've tried to escape,
And I know there ain't no way to
Chase you from my heart."
Spike was happy looking now, and looked over the whole crowd, the bartender catching his eye, and then Cordelia in the very back, were Angel couldn't see her. Spike thought he saw another one on Angel's flunkies, but couldn't be sure.
"And I've still got your face
Painted on my heart,
Drawn upon my soul,
Etched upon my memories, baby.
And I got your kiss still burning on my lips,
The touch of your fingertips
You struck so deep inside of me, baby."
Angel knew the song was winding down, but he didn't want it too. He wanted to enjoy Spike's singing more. He wanted Spike to sing more.
"I've still got your face,
Still got your face,
Painted on my heart,
Painted on my heart."
Spike put the microphone back in it's stand, mouthed 'Tomorrow' to Angel, and headed out the back. Angel smiled to himself, and went for the enterence, not wanting to go back and talk to the bartender, and not wanting to see anyone else. He wanted to be left alone with his thoughts.
Spike met John outside.
"Good job," John said. "We'll have him soon."
"Yeah." Spike blew out the smoke from his ciggerete. "Soon."
*END*
Aren't I the meany? But, soon, dear readers who have made it this far, all will be explained.