Title: Sun and Shadow
Section: Los Angeles II
Part: 15/The Way Things Weren't
Author: Arsahi
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is property of Joss Whedonvand Mutant Enemy. Angel the Series belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and Mutant Enemy.
Distribution: Eh...gonna be stingy this time and say ask first. You can find my email address on my author profile.
Dedication: The normal people, you know who you are.
Rated: PG-13
Notes: This is my first crossover, folks. Be warned.
Timeframe: Post-Gone for BtVS and post-Dad for Angel.

~*~ The Way Things Weren't ~*~

Spike mulled outside the hospital, after going AWOL on the Angel Investigations crew for a day. He had gone to Caritas and watched people sing until his ears rang, then Lorne escorted him to a private room so he could get some sleep. Feeling refreshed when he woke at nine in the evening, Spike came back to the hospital and decided to lurk. His feeling were hurt that Fred didn't "love" him as anything but a friend, but decided to chalk it up as Wesley being jealous. Still, he didn't exactly feel like sitting through another one of the stodgy ex-Watcher's lectures on friendship.
Spike stood in the shadows and watched Faith leave the building. Fred should be alone now. So he darted in the open doors and into the elevator. Spike pulled a bouquet of roses from underneath his arm and stood impatiently, waiting for the elevator doors to open. When they finally did, Spike once again darted out of the open doors and down the hallway to Fred's room. He gently pushed her door open and peered around the side.
Fred took her attention from the television and turned it to Spike. She smiled. "Hey, Spike. I was wondering where you went."
He returned the smile. "I brought these for you."
"Thank you. I'll call the nurse in and ask for a vase when you leave," Fred replied.
"Your surgery's tomorrow, innit?" Spike raised his eyebrow.
"The day after, actually," she sighed. "The doctor whose specialty is these kinds of things is off tomorrow. I don't know why they won't get another surgeon, but I suppose I can wait."
"Want me t' go strong-arm 'em into making the surgeon operate on you tomorrow?" Spike offered with a smirk.
Fred rolled her eyes. "No, that's okay Spike."
"D'you want me to get you anything? Somethin' to eat or drink or whatnot?" he offered.
"No, I'm fine. Charles brought me a burrito earlier for dinner and I am stuffed," she sighed.
"Well, hey. How 'bout you and I go get some burritos some time? After you're discharged from the hospital," Spike proposed.
"She'll be doing no such thing," Wesley said from the doorway. His hair looked fluffed and messy, like he had just rolled out of bed. "Spike, I thought I explained to you that Fred is in love with Gunn."
"Well I don't ever see the bloke here," Spike growled.
"Charles was just here before Faith got here. I have this huge influx of visitors, Spike, honestly," Fred tried to explain.
"Who's this 'Charles' sod?" Spike demanded.
"Charles Gunn," Wesley sighed. "We call him Gunn, she calls him Charles because they are very much in love, and you were the one who saw it and pushed them together."
Spike snorted. "Yeah. Right. Like I would do that."
"You did," Fred told him. Spike reached down and caressed her hand, looked up, and got on the receiving end of a powerful blow to the nose. "Wesley!"
Spike had toppled over into her bedside table. He growled and looked up at Wesley. "That was a mistake, mate."
"Spike! If you touch a hair on his head, you'll never come back here!" Fred cried.
Spike looked at her, dazed. "What now, pet?"
"Leave, Spike," Fred glared. "Leave and don't come back until you can treat Wesley and everyone else with the respect they deserve." He stood there. "Go!"
He left.
Spike waited for the elevator to rise to the third floor and open for him. He allowed a woman and her two children to walk off before he walked in and pushed the lobby button. He leaned against the corner, thinking about what had just happened. He nearly dismissed it, but saw the look on Fred's face in his mind again and again. Lover or no, no one would have liked to see that expression on anyone's face.
He brushed past the people waiting at the elevator opening when he reached the lobby and breezed into the night air. He inhaled, feeling the cold, smog-coated air fill his long dead lungs. He thought back fondly to a night spent in Spain with Drusilla, where she spun joyfully in one of the gardens. Of course, a dead child lay at her feet, and she was singing a tuneless, wordless song.
He almost fell over when some careless guy jostled past him. "Hey mate, watch where you're bloody--Angel?"
Angel turned to Spike and gave him a half-grin. "Spike, buddy. How are ya?"
Spike flinched. "...Pleasant, thank you. Be goin' now--" he tried to walk the other way.
Angel caught his arm. "Well, there's no need for that. I just wanna talk. I mean, it's been four years since we really talked hasn't it?"
"I wouldn't know. As I seem t' recall, everyone keeps tellin' me I can't remember the last four years. So it seems the last I spoke to you was just a couple months ago," Spike spat. "And a couple months isn't long enough."
"Aw, Spike, that's mean to say to your grand-sire," Angel smirked.
"Well, here's what I say to you: screw you, you bloody prick. Leave me be," Spike growled.
"But I can see, you're unimpressed, so leave me be..." he jumped up on the casket and slid into the funeral procession.
Spike shook his head. "Wha' did you say?"
"I said I have a proposition for you. You can earn some serious cash," Angel repeated.
Cash? Cash was nice. But working with Angel again? "Not bloody likely, mate. I'd rather throw myself into the risin' sun."
"Oh, c'mon, Spike. Just hear me out, pal," Angel placed his hand on Spike's shoulder.
"Don't touch me," he growled, jerking away.
"Fine. You're obviously in no condition to speak with anyone right now."
"On your merry way then!"
"Exactly. I'll be seeing you around, Spike."
Angel stepped off the curb and walked through the parking lot of the hospital, disappearing into the night shadows. Spike sighed and shook his head, heading back to the hotel.

"You know, I've been thinking."
Sahjhan, Justine, and Holtz all looked up simultaneously as Angel waltzed into their lair. Sahjhan arched an eyebrow, "About what?"
"Well, Angel decided to go into hiding, pansy wuss that he is. So, I have nothing to do. I'm certainly not going to go back and pretend that I'm a 'good guy'. Though, hey, free sex. But anyway, I'm thinking maybe I should just team up with you guys and make your team better."
"Take another step and I will dust you," Holtz said evenly, holding a crossbow trained on Angel's heart.
"Aw, how sweet," Angel walked towards Holtz, catching the arrow and snapping it in half. "You're going to wish you hadn't done that." He grabbed Holtz by the hair and jerked his head to the side. "Now I'll have had a whole family." He sank his fangs into Holtz's neck and threw him down when he was bone dry. "Ah. Aged blood. Thanks for doing that to him, Sahjhan."
Justine stared at Holtz's body, horrified. She looked up at Angel. "Y-you killed him..."
"Yeah, that kinda happens when I drink all his blood," Angel replied.
Justine tried to punched him, but Angel caught her fist and turned it slightly the wrong way. Her wrist snapped and she stared at him. "You really are an evil bastard," she panted, holding her broken wrist.
"Thanks," Angel sat down. "Now go. Tell your 'troops' to disperse. Your leader's dead, Angelus has reinforcements, and Angelus will eat them all if they attempt to attack him."
Justine contemplated staking him then and there, but slowly rose and started out. Angelus smacked her where the sun don't shine and ducked her open hand as she attempted to slap him. She hurried out of the room.
"Now, Sahjhan. What are we going to do?"

Cordelia watched Spike walk in the hotel doors, alert. "Spike! Have you seen Angel?"
"You don't want Angel anymore, love. Trust me," Spike answered.
Cordelia's face fell. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back furiously. "This came in the mail for you today," she thrust an envelope at him. "It's from Buffy."
Spike raised an eyebrow and opened the envelope.
Dear Spike,
there's so many things I didn't have the guts to tell you in person, so I decided to write it down on paper and mail it to you. First off, I would like to apologize. I realize now that I was being a major bitch to you, and I wasn't being rational. You're only being you, I realize that now. I'm sorry you had to leave like you did, and I hope your ribs are feeling better.
Anyway. Um...I know you want a straightforward answer to your question. Do I love you? Honestly, I don't know. I'm not going to dangle that hope in front of you again. I'll just tell you I don't know if I love you. But that might be teasing you. You see, I don't want to give you false hope, but I don't want to squash your feelings, because I do have feelings that may develope into love. If you'd stick around long enough.
I guess that's not really a lot of things. I'm not the greatest writer of the letters, so I'm going to leave this letter as an apology and half-confession. Be well. Come back to Sunnydale, please. All of us miss you. It's like having a missing leg.
Buffy

P.S. Dawn sends her love.
Spike frowned. He didn't remember any of what happened when he left. The last thing he remembered was meeting with Buffy to stop the Angelus problem, and it seemed that she had. Somehow, she had solved the problem and even given him his soul back, or so he heard. Now it looked as if Angelus was back in full swing and trying to recruit him for some evil cause or another. Well, Spike had learned his lesson with Acathla and the Judge. He wouldn't team up with Angelus again, even if Angelus was going to pay him.
"So you saw him? I didn't just dream that Angel gave up his soul for me?" Cordelia whispered.
"He's Angelus now, love. Or has been. Always will be, I suppose. Unless one you lot ring that redhead in Sunnyhell and ask her to find the curse again," Spike shrugged. Wait. He never remembered seeing Willow cast a spell. How would he know Willow was a witch? "I'm losin' my mind..." he shook his head and sighed.
"Spike, you're brilliant!" Cordelia cried, relieved. "I'm going to go call Willow right now and ask her to find the Romanian curse to cast on him."
"Glad to help," he murmured. He re-read the letter in his hand and frowned. The picture he had of Buffy in his mind was different than the one coming off of the page. And who the hell was Dawn? Why did she send her love? "Cordelia!" he called. Then he remembered she was probably on the phone. "Never mind love, it's not important."
The front door opened and slammed. Faith stalked in and up the stairs. The door opened and slammed in again. Wesley followed her. Yelling ensued that only Spike could hear.
"Damn it, Wesley! I don't understand what the hell you want from me! Is it just to get in my pants? 'Cause, hey, so not happening again if that's the case. Do you even like me?" Faith demanded in rapid succession.
"Of course I like you, Faith. I recognize that you've changed, and no, I don't like you just to...'get in your pants' as you so elegantly put it," Wesley replied, trying to keep his voice low.
"Then why don't you want to tell anyone what we share?!"
"Keep your voice down--do you want to wake Connor?"
"I don't care who hears us, Wesley! Don't you get that?! I want you to be my, my boyfriend! We're halfway there, Wesley, all we need to do is let someone know and we'll be fine."
Spike's ears perked up. This was just like one of the soap operas he used to watch.
"Faith..."
"You're ashamed of me. You're ashamed to be with me. You don't want a girlfriend."
"Faith, it's not like that. Truly. I'm just...honestly, I'm not ready to announce this to anyone. Angel hasn't been here for a day or so, Cordelia's a mess, Riley and Harmony have betrayed us, Spike has amnesia, Fred's in the hospital--it's too much to dump this on them."
"Oh...well, I guess I see that side of it. But don't you think they'd all be happy for us? It'd cheer them up to hear some happy news."
Wesley didn't say anything.
"Well don't just stand there, you pillock," Spike muttered. "Say somethin'. Say somethin' suave, like, 'sure, but don't you think it would make the others jealous?'."
"I don't think I'm ready to tell this to anyone yet, Faith. Understand?"
"Smooth move," Spike rolled his eyes.
"You really are ashamed of being with me."
Spike went back to minding his own business, hearing them start to come down the stairs. Cordelia came out of Wesley's office, a slight smile on her face. "Guess what, Spike!"
"What would tha' be?" he looked up at her.
"Willow said she knows exactly where the spell is--she just needs us to find an Orb of Thesula for her," Cordelia sighed in relief. "I'll bet Wesley knows where to get one of those. Do you know where he is?"
"I believe he's upstairs havin' an argument with the Slayer girl," Spike re-read the letter for the fourth time. "Love, who's Dawn?"
Cordelia blinked. "Buffy's little sister. Why?"
"I don't remember the Slay--I mean, Buffy havin' a kid sis."
"I feel safe with you," Dawn said, smiling sweetly.
Spike choked. "Don't say that!"
He rubbed his temples. "Actually, I think I may've just remembered a little of her...or maybe I'm gettin' someone else's life. I don't ever think I'd ever get up and start singin' a bloody song. Less I was at tha' Caritas place."
Cordelia blinked. "...Right. Do you know where Wesley is? Oh. Yeah. You said he's arguing with Faith...but Connor's not crying and I don't hear them."
Spike listened carefully. "Sounds like they're havin' a make-out session, love."
Cordelia burst out laughing. "Wesley? And Faith? Making out? Oh, that's funny. Um, yeah. Okay. If Wesley comes down here, tell him to find an Orb of Thesula, because I'm going to go up and check on Connor and feed him."
Spike nodded, "I will."
"Thanks," Cordelia walked up the stairs opposite of Faith's room and went into Angel's former room. Spike would think that no one would leave that child alone after he got kidnapped, but didn't feel it his place to say anything. Not that that stopped him before. Absently, he wondered when he had become such a poof.
Faith slid down the banister, leaving Wesley to eat her dust at the top of the stairs. "Spike, I'm gonna ask you to do a huge favor for me."
"What would that be?" Spike arched an eyebrow.
"I need you to sleep with me so I can get back at Wesley."
Spike shrugged. "Okay."
"Okay."
"Lemme write somethin' down real quick."
Spike found a tablet of paper and a pen and quickly scribbled down, "Wesley--Cordy wants you to get an Orb of Thesula" and followed Faith up the stairs.

Cordelia opened the door to Angel's former room, carrying a bottle with her. "Okay, Connor," she said in baby talk, facing the door as she shut it. She turned to go to the cradle to pick him up to find Angel already holding him. "Oh...Angel. Hello," she said coldly. "Or should I call you Angelus?"
"You catch on quick," Angel commented. "So this is Angel's son?"
"He's mine," Cordelia growled.
"That's not how he remembers it. He wishes this little kid was yours, but it's Darla's," Angel started to set Connor back in the crib, thought better of it, and handed him to Cordelia.
Cordelia took the baby protectively and studied Angel. "Are you sure you're Angelus?"
"As sure as I have ten fingers and ten toes," Angel nodded. "He won't let me take the kid though, or hurt you. He disgusts me. Have I told that to you? It's been a while since I've seen you, but I think I should take this oppurtunity to tell you that with how much Angel loves you it really disgusts me."
"So why are you here? Why are you behind enemy lines? Why are you with the good guy?" Cordelia narrowed her eyes.
"There are no good guys. Everyone's bad at the core--the good guys are just the ones who win more often," Angel replied.
"Is that you talking or Angel?" she wanted to know.
"Both of us, sweetheart," he reached out to touch her face but she jerked back. "Aw. You don't wanna be touched by your precious Angel?"
Through gritted teeth, Cordelia answered, "You're not Angel. You may have his body, but you're not him."
"Do you know what he did? It's really very sickening. You were dying from those pesky visions that dance in your head, and so he went to the Conduit and--here's the kicker--chose the option to let them take his soul rather than make you his vampiric mate for all eternity," Angel told her.
"He was saving my life. He was trying to make it so that I wouldn't have to live the way he does," Cordelia defended Angelus's alter-ego.
"You don't think it's sickening? Of course not, you're his 'mate'. He thinks of you as his mate, you know that? Because he heard the Conduit refer to you as his 'mate'."
"Mate friend or mate soulmate?"
"Gee, Cordelia, you still aren't the brightest bulb in the box, are you? What does Angel have that no other vampire has?"
"You're very rude."
"I know. It's fun."
"You're sick. Get out of here. Please."
"Gladly. If I see another second of your face while hearing lover boy whine at me I think I'm going to drive myself crazy."
"Oh look, you're already there."
"Ouch. That was painful." Angelus leapt out of the window as Cordelia shut it. She sighed and held Connor's bottle to his mouth.

Wesley stepped inside the Pagan store, glancing around. The obvious pace to get an Orb of Thesula would be Sunnydale, but Wesley didn't have the time nor patience to go to Sunnydale. His concentration had been thrown off by the way Faith had acted around him, and then by the way she had disappeared, presumably with Spike. Angel Investigations' once plentiful team was deteriorating. Angel had gone missing, Spike had lost all memory of anything that had happened in the past four years, Fred needed surgery, he and Faith had slept together, Riley and Harmony decided they didn't want to participate in the investigations anymore, and Gunn had gone Secretive Guy on them.
"May I help you?" the store clerk asked. "You know we're closin' in a few minutes."
"Yes, I'm aware," Wesley nodded. "However...do you have an Orb of Thesula?"
"Yeah, they're all over there," the store clerk pointed to a wrack with polished boxes containing the Orbs. Wesley retrieved one. "That'll be thirty-two ninety-eight."
Wesley sighed and handed over thirty-three dollars, leaving with his Orb. Wesley ran down the uses of the Orb of Thesula in his head, vaguely remembering. It...what did they do...
"Oh hell," he muttered. "Cordelia, you better not be trying to do something dangerous."