Title: Working With The Enemy
Author: Hope
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Takes place in season three. Spike's back in Sunnydale, insisting on helping the slayer takeout Angelus. Much to everyone's surprise, the unlikely partners begin to bond. S/B
A/N: This basically takes the place of Lover's Walk. Angel is Angelus, decide for yourself why, cause I really don't know.
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Buffy shuffled slowly down the stairs, finding Spike sitting on her couch with a bag of Doritos in his lap. His eyes were locked intently on the televison, watching Oprah.
And she had thought Angel was a strange vampire.
"Sleep well?" He asked, not looking up from the screen.
"Fine." She ground out, walking into the kitchen.
"Huh, that's strange. I could have swore you were poking your head around the corner every half hour, you know, maybe checking to make sure I wasn't lurking about your house." He finally looked up, smirking.
"Don't blame me for not wanting to be chopped into little pieces while I sleep." She countered sarcastically.
He pushed the power button on the TV and stood, following the girl into the kitchen. He opened the cuppard he had found the Doritos in and tossed them on the shelf absently before hopping up and sitting on the counter. "So, you din't sleep cause you thought I was going to viciously murder you in your sleep."
She glared at him, pulling a piece of toast from the toaster and spreading some butter over it.
"Now what the hell kind of breakfast is that? No wonder Peaches kicked your arse, you're nothing but skin and bones."
"And Nacho Cheese Doritos are a much better choice for breakfast." She replied, sitting down at the island in the center of the room.
He shrugged. "I don't need to eat. Vampire, remember? I eat junk food when I'm bored." He stood, walking over to her fridge. He shifted through it, producing an old box chinese food. Tossing it onto the table in front of her, he grinned. "There, a good nutritious breakfast. Eat up."
Buffy lifted the flap of the box, sniffing the contents. "Oh God, I'm so not eating that, it's older than Santa Clause."
"Santa Clause, ey?" His brow knitted together and he scooped up the carton, examining the contents. "Maybe you're right, I don't think it's supposed to wiggle around like that....." He made a face, tossing it in the garbage can.
"Since when did my diet become one of your top priorities?"
"Since you let the Poof pin your sorry arse to a wall, that's when. I'm not teaming up with a snotty ass Slayer with a health deficiency, won't look good on my resume. You like scrambled eggs?" He held up a carton of eggs and watched as one slipped out and fell to the floor. He shrugged, raising his eyebrows at the girl.
She rolled her eyes and stood, walking out of the kitchen. "I'm goin to take a shower, try not to destroy the place." He pouted, letting the remainder of the eggs drop to the ground and heading back to watch TV.
*****
"Curiousity killed the cat, I know, but where on earth did you learn how to cook?" Buffy asked as she walked alongside the vampire.
Smirking, he shook his head. "I'm well over one hundred years old, pet. Picked up some skills over the years." He grinned, thinking back at the argument they had had earlier that morning. She had come out of the shower to found he had made her a large breakfast consisting of pancakes, sausage, and some bisquits. There would have been eggs, but he had kinda broken them all. After arguing for over a half hour about whether or not he was trying to poison her, she finally gave up and ate it.
Best damned meal she'd had in a long while, too.
"So, where we going, anyway?" The vampire asked, pulling a cig from his coat.
"Bronze, I guess. Neither of us are in much of a condition to fight, then again, neither is he. Anyway, we might as well see if we can find anything else out about where he's at, what he's doing."
"Who he's doing." The vampire remarked, blowing a stream of smoke from his mouth. His comment earned a nasty glare from Buffy. "What, he's evil, you actually expect him not shag every broad he comes across? Shag, eat, shag, eat. It's how a vampire's brain works, luv." He waited, expecting a strict scolding or a punch to the face, but neither came. Looking to the slayer, he saw she had her head bowed, sniffling like a child who accidently let their dog get their cookie.
Was that guilt he felt?
"Look, Slayer, I din't mean..."
"Don't, Spike, just don't. For once, you're right, he probably is sleeping with everyone. Everyone but me. But hey, get Buffy in bed once and loose your soul, who would go for that anyways?" She spat the words out as she walked through the door of the Bronze, a scowl planted firmly on her features.
"Calm down, pet. I didn't mean anything by it. Just trying to lighten the mood a bit." He sat down opposite of her as she threw herself into an open booth, crossing her arms across her chest and pouting. He rolled his eyes when she refused to talk and stood, making to walk away.
"Where are you going?!" She demanded, finally finding it in her to speak.
"To get a drink, luv. You may like to try and cry your problems away, but I have a better solution." He brought his face down to hers, smirking. "Lots and lots of alcohol."
"Right, because that just makes it all go away, doesn't it? You seemed pretty drunk when I found you the other night and you were *still* crying because the pycho-bitch left you." He glared at her icy words, a low growl emitting from his chest. "What's amatter, Spike? Hit a nerve?" His eyes shot daggers at the her before he marched off towards the bar, intent on getting smashed. She shook her head, looking around.
God she hated him.
"Hey there, Princess. What's a pretty little thing like you doing all alone over here?" A dark haired boy invited himself to sit across from the glowering slayer, letting cheesy-pickup-line after cheesy-pickup-line roll from his tongue. She was so not in the mood for this.
"Look, if you're not gone in......" She began, but he cut her off.
"Hey, hey baby. No need to get fiesty. I just want to get you outta here, maybe somewhere a little more.....quiet?" He leaned across the table, rasing his eyebrows suggestively. Was this guy corny or what?
"Can I help you, mate?" Spike stood over the boy, raising an eyebrow.
"Who are you?" He demanded, standing and glaring at the vampire. Spike smirked, setting his beer down.
"What if I said that was my girl you're all over?"
"What would a pretty little thing like her want with a creep like you?" The boy shot back, trying to intimidate the blonde. Spike cocked his head to the side and pulled his cigarette from his mouth. Smirking, he ground it out on the lad's coat, despite his angered protests.
"If I were you, I'd run along," He dropped the fag to the ground, smirking, "'fore I decide to get violent." His eyes flashed a menacing yellow, sending chills down the boy's spine. A twinge of fear hit him and he shrugged, deciding to walk away and save his dignity. Chuckling, Spike sat back down across from the slayer.
"Why did you do that?" Buffy demanded, making a face. "I am *not* your girl."
"Did you really want Prince Charming over there trying to get up your shirt?" He asked, motioning to the boy. He had already found a new victim to feel up on.
Buffy groaned, slamming her head down on the table. "I hate guys."
"Oh, come off it, pet. We're not all that bad." He finished off his beer and the slayer looked up, amused by his protest.
"And this defense coming from the blood sucking monster who got his name for torturing people? Not very convincing, Spike." She shook her head before resting it back down on the table.
"Oh come on, I'm not all that bad, really. I can be all gentleman-ly and that whatnot." He argued, straightening up.
"You? Ha, I live to see the day...."
He glared at her before looking about the room, thinking. Suddenly he stood, offering his hand to the girl.
"What are you doing?"
"Proving my point. Now get up."
"Why?"
He let out an exasperated sigh, dropping his hands to his sides and glaring at her. "You're not going to make this easy, are you?" She didn't answer. Giving up, he reached down and grabbed her by her shoulders, forcing her to her feet.
"Spike!! What are you....." He pulled her after him, stopping when they reached the center of the group of dancing couples. He spun her to face him, wrapping his arms around her waist. "What are you doing?" She asked once more, albeit a bit more softly.
"Being a gentleman. Now shuttup so I can prove my point and get this overwith. It won't do my image much good if I'm seen dancing with the bloody slayer."
"You have an image? What would that be, undead depressed drunk? Hate to break it to you, Spikey, but there's no image to protect." He glared at her mockingly as she reluctantly draped her arms around his neck, smiling. It was the first real smile she had manged in weeks, and all because of him needing to prove his manly-ness to her. Who would have saw this coming?
"Cor, that was harsh, pet. But anyways, if I have to be seen with the likes of you, might as well make it look good." He pulled her closer, feeling her stiffen under his hold. Eventually she relaxed, resting her head on her mortal-enemy's shoulder.
Angel's eyes flashed as he watched the pair from the upper level of the Bronze, jealousy coursing through him. That was *his* slayer. A deep growl resounded in his throat as he turned, marching down the stairs and out into the night.
There would be Hell to pay for this. Literally.
TBC
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Alas, I suck at this so any ideas or comments you have would be *greatly* appreciated. Please tell me what you think. *pout*
Author: Hope
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Takes place in season three. Spike's back in Sunnydale, insisting on helping the slayer takeout Angelus. Much to everyone's surprise, the unlikely partners begin to bond. S/B
A/N: This basically takes the place of Lover's Walk. Angel is Angelus, decide for yourself why, cause I really don't know.
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Buffy shuffled slowly down the stairs, finding Spike sitting on her couch with a bag of Doritos in his lap. His eyes were locked intently on the televison, watching Oprah.
And she had thought Angel was a strange vampire.
"Sleep well?" He asked, not looking up from the screen.
"Fine." She ground out, walking into the kitchen.
"Huh, that's strange. I could have swore you were poking your head around the corner every half hour, you know, maybe checking to make sure I wasn't lurking about your house." He finally looked up, smirking.
"Don't blame me for not wanting to be chopped into little pieces while I sleep." She countered sarcastically.
He pushed the power button on the TV and stood, following the girl into the kitchen. He opened the cuppard he had found the Doritos in and tossed them on the shelf absently before hopping up and sitting on the counter. "So, you din't sleep cause you thought I was going to viciously murder you in your sleep."
She glared at him, pulling a piece of toast from the toaster and spreading some butter over it.
"Now what the hell kind of breakfast is that? No wonder Peaches kicked your arse, you're nothing but skin and bones."
"And Nacho Cheese Doritos are a much better choice for breakfast." She replied, sitting down at the island in the center of the room.
He shrugged. "I don't need to eat. Vampire, remember? I eat junk food when I'm bored." He stood, walking over to her fridge. He shifted through it, producing an old box chinese food. Tossing it onto the table in front of her, he grinned. "There, a good nutritious breakfast. Eat up."
Buffy lifted the flap of the box, sniffing the contents. "Oh God, I'm so not eating that, it's older than Santa Clause."
"Santa Clause, ey?" His brow knitted together and he scooped up the carton, examining the contents. "Maybe you're right, I don't think it's supposed to wiggle around like that....." He made a face, tossing it in the garbage can.
"Since when did my diet become one of your top priorities?"
"Since you let the Poof pin your sorry arse to a wall, that's when. I'm not teaming up with a snotty ass Slayer with a health deficiency, won't look good on my resume. You like scrambled eggs?" He held up a carton of eggs and watched as one slipped out and fell to the floor. He shrugged, raising his eyebrows at the girl.
She rolled her eyes and stood, walking out of the kitchen. "I'm goin to take a shower, try not to destroy the place." He pouted, letting the remainder of the eggs drop to the ground and heading back to watch TV.
*****
"Curiousity killed the cat, I know, but where on earth did you learn how to cook?" Buffy asked as she walked alongside the vampire.
Smirking, he shook his head. "I'm well over one hundred years old, pet. Picked up some skills over the years." He grinned, thinking back at the argument they had had earlier that morning. She had come out of the shower to found he had made her a large breakfast consisting of pancakes, sausage, and some bisquits. There would have been eggs, but he had kinda broken them all. After arguing for over a half hour about whether or not he was trying to poison her, she finally gave up and ate it.
Best damned meal she'd had in a long while, too.
"So, where we going, anyway?" The vampire asked, pulling a cig from his coat.
"Bronze, I guess. Neither of us are in much of a condition to fight, then again, neither is he. Anyway, we might as well see if we can find anything else out about where he's at, what he's doing."
"Who he's doing." The vampire remarked, blowing a stream of smoke from his mouth. His comment earned a nasty glare from Buffy. "What, he's evil, you actually expect him not shag every broad he comes across? Shag, eat, shag, eat. It's how a vampire's brain works, luv." He waited, expecting a strict scolding or a punch to the face, but neither came. Looking to the slayer, he saw she had her head bowed, sniffling like a child who accidently let their dog get their cookie.
Was that guilt he felt?
"Look, Slayer, I din't mean..."
"Don't, Spike, just don't. For once, you're right, he probably is sleeping with everyone. Everyone but me. But hey, get Buffy in bed once and loose your soul, who would go for that anyways?" She spat the words out as she walked through the door of the Bronze, a scowl planted firmly on her features.
"Calm down, pet. I didn't mean anything by it. Just trying to lighten the mood a bit." He sat down opposite of her as she threw herself into an open booth, crossing her arms across her chest and pouting. He rolled his eyes when she refused to talk and stood, making to walk away.
"Where are you going?!" She demanded, finally finding it in her to speak.
"To get a drink, luv. You may like to try and cry your problems away, but I have a better solution." He brought his face down to hers, smirking. "Lots and lots of alcohol."
"Right, because that just makes it all go away, doesn't it? You seemed pretty drunk when I found you the other night and you were *still* crying because the pycho-bitch left you." He glared at her icy words, a low growl emitting from his chest. "What's amatter, Spike? Hit a nerve?" His eyes shot daggers at the her before he marched off towards the bar, intent on getting smashed. She shook her head, looking around.
God she hated him.
"Hey there, Princess. What's a pretty little thing like you doing all alone over here?" A dark haired boy invited himself to sit across from the glowering slayer, letting cheesy-pickup-line after cheesy-pickup-line roll from his tongue. She was so not in the mood for this.
"Look, if you're not gone in......" She began, but he cut her off.
"Hey, hey baby. No need to get fiesty. I just want to get you outta here, maybe somewhere a little more.....quiet?" He leaned across the table, rasing his eyebrows suggestively. Was this guy corny or what?
"Can I help you, mate?" Spike stood over the boy, raising an eyebrow.
"Who are you?" He demanded, standing and glaring at the vampire. Spike smirked, setting his beer down.
"What if I said that was my girl you're all over?"
"What would a pretty little thing like her want with a creep like you?" The boy shot back, trying to intimidate the blonde. Spike cocked his head to the side and pulled his cigarette from his mouth. Smirking, he ground it out on the lad's coat, despite his angered protests.
"If I were you, I'd run along," He dropped the fag to the ground, smirking, "'fore I decide to get violent." His eyes flashed a menacing yellow, sending chills down the boy's spine. A twinge of fear hit him and he shrugged, deciding to walk away and save his dignity. Chuckling, Spike sat back down across from the slayer.
"Why did you do that?" Buffy demanded, making a face. "I am *not* your girl."
"Did you really want Prince Charming over there trying to get up your shirt?" He asked, motioning to the boy. He had already found a new victim to feel up on.
Buffy groaned, slamming her head down on the table. "I hate guys."
"Oh, come off it, pet. We're not all that bad." He finished off his beer and the slayer looked up, amused by his protest.
"And this defense coming from the blood sucking monster who got his name for torturing people? Not very convincing, Spike." She shook her head before resting it back down on the table.
"Oh come on, I'm not all that bad, really. I can be all gentleman-ly and that whatnot." He argued, straightening up.
"You? Ha, I live to see the day...."
He glared at her before looking about the room, thinking. Suddenly he stood, offering his hand to the girl.
"What are you doing?"
"Proving my point. Now get up."
"Why?"
He let out an exasperated sigh, dropping his hands to his sides and glaring at her. "You're not going to make this easy, are you?" She didn't answer. Giving up, he reached down and grabbed her by her shoulders, forcing her to her feet.
"Spike!! What are you....." He pulled her after him, stopping when they reached the center of the group of dancing couples. He spun her to face him, wrapping his arms around her waist. "What are you doing?" She asked once more, albeit a bit more softly.
"Being a gentleman. Now shuttup so I can prove my point and get this overwith. It won't do my image much good if I'm seen dancing with the bloody slayer."
"You have an image? What would that be, undead depressed drunk? Hate to break it to you, Spikey, but there's no image to protect." He glared at her mockingly as she reluctantly draped her arms around his neck, smiling. It was the first real smile she had manged in weeks, and all because of him needing to prove his manly-ness to her. Who would have saw this coming?
"Cor, that was harsh, pet. But anyways, if I have to be seen with the likes of you, might as well make it look good." He pulled her closer, feeling her stiffen under his hold. Eventually she relaxed, resting her head on her mortal-enemy's shoulder.
Angel's eyes flashed as he watched the pair from the upper level of the Bronze, jealousy coursing through him. That was *his* slayer. A deep growl resounded in his throat as he turned, marching down the stairs and out into the night.
There would be Hell to pay for this. Literally.
TBC
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Alas, I suck at this so any ideas or comments you have would be *greatly* appreciated. Please tell me what you think. *pout*