Not Invincible

by

Princess McPhee

Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt aren't me. Not even the right gender. So, therefore, I don't own.

Author's Note: Ideas from just about every Angel or Spike fic on the planet. So, if an idea very closely resembles yours, please don't take offense.

Summary: Spike goes to Angel, after Buffy beats up on him the latest time. AU from there.

Rating: R

Chapter Two

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The next morning, I awake and go get Conner out of bed at about six. He's gurgling and cooing, clearly happy to be up and about, part of the world. I feed him his bottle and then wander downstairs, wondering if Spike heeded my 'advice'.

He's crashed out on the couch, snoring softly, his head bent backwards at an unnatural angle over the lip of the sofa. He doesn't stir when we walk in.

I was talking a gamble last night. I didn't think he'd go anywhere, because he was so exhausted. His posturing about going out was just to see where he stood. How much I would tolerate before I put him in his place. I can't say I blame him, getting used to me with a soul must be a lot like having a completely new sire. Certainly we're working with a new set of rules.

"Will," I whisper. Conner gurgles and giggles a little. Spike doesn't move a muscle.

"William." A little louder. He groans, picks up his head and puts it down again at a different angle, all while still asleep.

"Spike!"

Finally, he sits up and rubs his hand across his face, blinking. "Huh?"

"Good morning."

Getting his bearings quickly, he looks around. He snorts at my greeting, and then stretches. "Hah."

"What?"

"'Good morning' to you too, sire."

I ignore him. Spike's just in a mood. He gets those like most of us get the urge to move. He's always been like this. Can't say I've ever met another creature capable of changing his moods more quickly than Will.

Dumping Conner in Spike's lap, I head off towards the kitchen. Spike doesn't take too kindly to this, though I know he's treating my son alright because Conner's happy baby-talk hasn't ceased. "Hey! I'm a bloody guest, Angelus!"

"You're a guest, not an imbecile. Watch the baby while I make breakfast. I won't be long."
Making scrambled eggs for Cordy and Wesley, I add a little more than usual, knowing that Spike has an odd penchant for human food. Vampires don't have taste buds, my ass. That one does. Why the hell else would he shovel down food the way he does? Spike eats like an adolescent boy.

Then I heat two mugs of blood in the microwave, putting a little water in a separate cup. I figured out that you can't microwave the actual baby cereal, it gets too hot, but if you make the baby cereal (it's instant) with hot water, then it ends up kind of warm, which is okay.

Gunn and Fred come through the doors about ten minutes into my cooking, and contribute a box of donuts. Gunn keeps sending annoyed looks towards the den, but Fred seems determined to keep a leash on him, and sends equally annoyed warning looks at him whenever he does so. Neither of them says anything other than good-morning.

Wesley doesn't come. I don't think he's being rude, he was just up late last night. I wasn't really expecting him. Cordy wanders through the door right after I've served everyone, a cup of coffee in her hand, bleary-eyed. She doesn't say a word, just grabs a donut and sits down at Wes's desk.

I scrape scrambled eggs onto a plate for Spike, one for Fred, and look at Gunn questioningly. He shakes his head and bites into another donut. Honestly, it's been a long time since I've had to worry about keeping a figure, but I have no idea how the man does it on a diet of donuts and tacos. Sometimes it seems like that's all he eats.

Cordelia doesn't even meet my gaze. I hand the last plate to Gunn anyway. "Eat something other than donuts for breakfast, I don't want you to fall over from a suger-low when you're at my back," I tell him.

He cracks a small smile. "Wouldn't want that." Then he grabs a fork and inhales his eggs. Literally. Or at least, that's what it seems like.

Putting a fork on the two remaining plates, I give one to Fred, who nods her thanks, and put the other down on the counter. Just as I'm stirring Conner's baby cereal together, adding just the right amount of hot and cold water to make it appealing, though how the gloppy mess of white goo could ever be appealing is beyond me, Spike calls.

Well, 'calls' might be putting it a bit too politely.

"Peaches, I can smell those eggs and you bloody well better be making some for me!"

That's my childe for you.

Putting a baby spoon in Conner's bowl, grabbing a bottle and balancing everything precariously, I head back to my two children/childer. Whatever you want to call them. They act alike, they must be brothers. Though where they got their temperaments, I'll never know. Not from me.

Spike looks up when I enter the room. "Well, it's just about bloody time, Angelus. I can smell those eggs as well as you can, you know. And I, unlike your stuffy-ass self, know what they taste like. If you're going to torture me, might I suggest burning pokers? It would be easier on a fellow."

I take my son from Spike, and make a face at him. Conner giggles. "That's a little dramatic, William. Besides, you like hot pokers."

"Not on me, you pillok!"

I shrug. "Can't help meself if ay can't remember all the instruments of torment ye like to employ, can ay?"

"Oh, lose the accent, Angelus. We both know it hasn't been real for a couple of centuries."

I smile. "What does that say about yours then, William?"

Spike looks offended. I plop Conner in the baby swing in the corner of the room, and try to feed him baby cereal. As usual, I get more on him than in his mouth, but that's too be expected.

"My accent is real, you sodding wanker! I lived in England for ninety-nine percent of my unlife until Sunnyhell came along! Whereas you, you insisted on gallivanting all around the world and making a mess of it."

"You were a part of that mess, as I recall."

"That's besides the point."

There's blissful silence in the room for only a few moments. Conner gurgles and coughs once, then he laughs when he takes a pudgy baby hand and smears cereal all over his front.

"You like fingerpainting, kid?" Spike asks.

"He's a little young for paint, Spike."

"Nobody's too young for some fun fingerpaint, are they, Conner? Besides, I bet your daddy's nice pristine room would look real good if you and I got into it, wouldn't it?"

I turn to my childe and growl warningly. "I don't find that amusing, William."

He shrugs casually. "You never do. If that stick up your ass weren't embedded so deep I'd try to pull it out, but- oh, who am I kidding? You're much more fun this way, Peaches. You get annoyed so much easier, and the punishments are so much less severe."

I flash my amber eyes and hulking vampire brow. "I'll show you severe if you disobey me, boy."
Spike laughs. He laughs. (Looking back, I guess it is rather amusing, considering all the things that Angelus did with his spare time or when he was bored that I find absolutely revolting. But let me tell you, that was not what was going through my head at that moment.)

I'm thinking about the thousand and one ways that I know in which to cause Spike the maximum amount of agony without dusting him. Believe me, something like that isn't gained in a century. I worked to learn those skills, and I'm going to use them if my childe doesn't shape up.

Or so I would like to think, before my occasionally pesky soul cuts in.

Still, I stare him down and don't let him know anything's changed. "Hasn't anyone ever taught you it's not nice to laugh at your elders, William?"

He stays right where he is, looking like another couch pillow the way he's draped over everything. "Yeah? So what? I was never much for the rules, Angel."

I snort in disgust at him and pick up Conner. Collecting the baby cereal and wiping up the mess as much as possible, I stand and head for the door. Just before I get there, I turn to face Spike.

"Will?"

"What?"

I give him a chilling smile, the one I can still summon on command, thanks to Angelus, stuck in his little soul-prison though he may be. "I am your elder, and I will do as I please with you."

Spike snorts. "Yeah, right."

But I saw the glint of uncertainty in his eyes. He will toe the line, for now.

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Life goes on for the next few days, same as it always does. Well, it goes on for Conner, Fred, Gunn and Wesley. I think it goes on for Cordelia, too, though I'm not entirely certain what kind of demon she is. And unlife goes on, blissfully peacefully, for me and Spike.

Until now.

It's five am, and Spike is blasting rock music in my living room. Luckily, my son is both human with human hearing, and a sound sleeper, or I'd be even more pissed than I am. There's nothing like a crying infant to put you in just the right mood to deal with your perpetually teenage 'son'.

I take a mental inventory of who's in the hotel with me. Fred is at Gunn's. That accounts for two of them. Wesley's at home, and Cordy's who knows where. The other two. Check.

The point is, it's just me and my sometimes annoying progeny tonight. Plus Conner.

Climbing slowly out of bed, I grab a robe and wrap myself in it. Checking quickly on Conner, who's fast asleep and drooling, I head down the stairs, working myself up until I am incredibly mad when I reach the bottom. Spike had better watch out.

"William!" I roar, when I reach the bottom of the stairs.

Nothing.

Stalking loudly so that he knows I'm coming, I head for the common room, where I know he is. Spike neither turns his music down, nor ceases his dreadful, off-key singing to it. Though what there is to sing to, I'm really not sure. It sounds like Conner with the kitchen pots and pans.

Flinging the door open, I step inside, head straight for the sound system, and pull the plug out of the wall. I know Spike has the remote, and I don't want to play 'who can press the buttons faster' with him right now.

"Spike, it's five am."

He shrugs. The little bastard shrugs.

"What do you have to say for yourself, childe?" My voice is dark and deep, a tone I've forgotten, a tone I haven't used since Angelus was on the loose in Sunnydale.

He looks up at me, impertinently, and speaks annoyingly slowly, as if I am the child. "This is when vampires are up, mate."
I point emphatically to myself. "Not this one, Spike. This one has a child, a boss, and odd hours as it is. This vampire will not have you playing whatever the hell that dreadful noise is in my downstairs bedroom at five am!"

Spike smirks. "Humans really got you whipped, huh?"
I almost blow up at him for that, but I manage, somehow, to keep my cool. "Spike, just be quiet until dawn."

He shrugs. "Suit yourself, Peaches."

I look down at him, annoyed beyond belief with his insolence. You can put a soul in the vampire, but you can't take the vampire out of the soul. Or something like that. Slowly, I pull the CD tray out of the stereo, grab his CD, and break it down the middle.

"Hey! You're gonna pay for that!"

I smirk. "Just suiting myself, William."

He glares, but doesn't say anything more. I go back to bed, but Conner's up, and has decided it's time to rise and shine permanently for the day. All my attempts to get him to go back to sleep fail until around noon, and by then, the rest of the office has shown up.

I'm going to kill Spike if he ever does that again.

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The day already feels long. There are plans to kill a few demons after sunset, a few more of the same to be studied at length with the hours of the bright afternoon looming overhead. There is a highlight, though. It rains a little in the morning and I venture out into the open, just because I like to feel the sun, if indirectly, on my skin. But the cloud cover isn't that thick, so I only stand in the gray for a few minutes.

Spike sleeps all day. He fell asleep right where he was in the morning, spread across the couch like an enormous blanket. He wakes, bleary-eyed, at three in the afternoon, grabs a mug of blood, and goes back into the room to watch television. When I ask him if he slept well, he tells me to 'bugger off'. I just smile. I've purposely let Conner make as much noise as suited him today.

At six, Conner wakes up from a brief nap, and demands to be fed. I feed him, then bathe him, change him, and leave him with Fred, while Gunn, Cordy and I go off to find a demon in her latest vision. Once it's caught and killed, we return, triumphant but too tired to celebrate, covered in slimy ooze and reeking of the sewers.

It's nine by the time we shower and change, and Conner's nodding off in Fred's arms. I put him to sleep, and then go back downstairs to catalog the demon into the proper files, to make sure we note where we killed it, with what, and just generally fill out all the annoying paperwork that's supposed to keep us from repeating any mistakes we might have made. It was my idea, but I can't remember why I thought it was a good one, for the life of me.

Eleven comes too soon. Cordelia leaves, escorted by Wesley. Gunn and Fred stick around a bit longer, trying to figure out some demon prophecy or another, there are so many of them that I rarely bother to work on them personally unless they pertain to me. In fact, I would just never read any of them, if it were up to me. The others research them in their spare time, though.

At midnight, Fred and Gunn leave, yawning. Spike is, by now, wide-awake and bouncing around the hotel. He slides down the staircase railing like a little child, and practices his fighting skills in the middle of the lobby. I shush him several times, trying to keep Conner asleep, but he pays little heed.

Finally, I head up to my bedroom, make sure the baby monitor's on, and stuff towels under my door until I can barely hear him. Stuffing my head under a pillow, I fall asleep to the dulcet sounds of another one of Spike's god-awfully annoying CDs.

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Conner wakes me at three for his bottle. I head wearily into my child's room, put the bottle in a pot of water, and try to keep him quiet until it heats up enough to give him. I don't know why I bother. I know Spike is still bouncing off the walls, and he's the only other person here.

I feed him, put him back to bed, and creep downstairs, wondering what incredible activity I'm going to catch my other 'son' at. Knowing Spike, it could be anything from watching porn to standing on his head, literally, though I don't know why he would do that. Which is precisely why he might.

Quietly checking the lobby, I decide he's not there. Okay, one room down. Next, the kitchen. He's left quite a mess, but he's not there, either. And the melted ice cream in the bowl on the table is crusted over, he's been gone a few hours. On to the bedroom, then. Maybe I find a nice little surprise. Maybe Spike is actually sleeping.

No, that couldn't happen. That would be way too pleasant for me.

I open the door, bracing myself, wondering what's going to happen, and then--

Nothing. He's not here. Shit.

I start to move quickly around the hotel, no longer bothering to be quiet. "William!"

Spike once showed up when I called him like that, and then said, all courteous and obedient, eyes down and hands behind his back, "You bellowed, sire?"

Needless to say, Angelus was not pleased.

But this time, I would have been happy even to see Spike insult me.

I check every room twice, and every closet once. I look around for notes, but there are none. I wasn't really expecting that. It would be to polite for Spike to have even thought of.

Sighing, I go upstairs, grab the phone, and dial Cordelia. Someone answers, but doesn't speak, and I know who's on the other end of the line.

"Hey, Dennis. Sorry about calling now, but I need to talk to Cordy. It's important." There's silence on the other end of the line, and then a little muffled rustling, and Cordelia sleepily yawns into the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Cordy, Spike's gone."

I can practically hear her shrug. "And?"

"I've got to go find him. Can you watch Conner?"

Cordy sighs. "Angel, it's three-thirty in the morning. Spike's a grown... vampire, and it's like, vampire high-noon. Isn't he allowed to be out?"

"No!"

Now I can practically hear her jump, too. "God, Angel! Relax! I'll be there." She hangs up the phone, clearly pissed.

When she shows up in the driveway, hair perfect and outfit matching, despite the hour, I'm there to greet her. "Cordy, I'm sorry."

"About the ungodly hour? Because you should be. I think I need hazard pay times several hundred, mister-boss-not-boss. Not only do I get visions that were going to kill me, but I have to fight the demons in said visions, and then I get called to babysit at three am because your vampire whatever-he-is has gone missing! This is really going to disrupt my sleeping pattern, you know." She thinks about it for a second longer. "Or it would, if I had one. Which, you know, I don't, seeing as we're available day and night."

I smile. So typically Cordelia. "Not about that, Cordy, though I am sorry." I can't resist a little dig, though. "Not that you shouldn't be used to it by now."

"Hey! I resent that. You may be able to look gorgeous on six hours of sleep, but I need more!"

I smile. "I meant, I was sorry about yelling at you."

She shrugs. "Forgotten already."

I take her coat, and hang it up, handing her the baby monitor. "Thanks, Cordy. Really."

She sits down on the weird couch we have in the middle of the room, and fiddles with the knobs on the monitor until she's satisfied it's working right. "No problem. For you, anyway."

I grab my coat, and start to walk out the door, when she stops me. "Angel?"

I turn to face her. "Yeah?"
"Why is he so important to you?"
Whoa. Loaded question there. "Lots of reasons, Cordy. He's my childe. It's a strong bond. One I can't forget, no matter what he does."

"What about Drusilla and Darla, then?"

I sigh. "It's a long story. I promise to explain when I have the time. Is that okay?"

She nods. "Sure. I'm just gonna go back to sleep, so lock the door when you leave, okay?"

I nod back to her, and take off through the open portal to the world. The sun's going to be rising in only a couple of hours, and LA's a big city, so I need to do this fast.

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I track him for an hour, before getting a good scent. Tracking isn't as scientific as it sounds. You know that Cordy once said we could drive around the city with the top down and I could take 'big whiffs'? Well, that's pretty much what this is. I drive through seedy neighborhoods that probably harbor demon bars, sniffing the air as I go, until I catch Spike's scent.

It's faint, but he's been here. Driving around the block, trying to get an idea of where he went, I catch and lose his smell so many times that I finally park the car, get out and walk.

I follow him through some of the sorriest places I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot. The sun is an hour below the horizon, I can smell it too, faintly.

Suddenly, Spike's smell is joined by another. I groan. Oh, great. My more than likely smashed drunk childe has picked up some pretty young thing to hang out with and scare the daylights out of. I may not have seen him in a long time, but I still know my William. Bite or no bite, he gets a thrill out of the scare.

And sure enough, there comes the scream. I race down the alley, just in case I'm wrong and it isn't Spike playing with some street-whore's mind, but I'm not, because there he is, laughing his head off, sitting on the edge of a dumpster, in full vamp-face, a once-pretty blond thing crouched in the corner farthest from him.

"William!" My voice is strong and commanding. He looks at me lazily.

"Wha'da hell d'you want, Peaches?" His speech is slurred, and Spike's been drinking for a very long time. He must have bought out the liquor store to get this drunk.

I grab him by the arm, and pull him off the dumpster. I notice the girl is still cowering in the corner, her exit blocked by me and Spike. I don't want to terrify the poor thing any more, so I step aside. "Go." She runs without a second thought.

"Hey! That's not fair! It's not like I could hurt her, I was just having a little fun!"

I stare him down. "William, I had to wake up Cordelia at three in the morning for you. I came through some of the worst neighborhoods on the planet to find you, I left my car where it's most likely getting vandalized at this very moment, and you're complaining because I let the girl you were torturing get away?!"

He shrugs. "Yeah. Wouldn't you be, mate?"

I grab his coat-sleeve with a hand, and bodily drag him out of the alley. He follows me, mostly because I'm the only thing holding him upright, but he curses me with some words I didn't even know existed and lots that I do, until we reach my car. Throwing him in the backseat, I engage the child-safety locks so that he can't do anything stupid, and start the car.

He's asleep and drooling in the backseat by the time we make it back to the Hyperion. I disengage the locks, shake him roughly until he's semi-conscious, and drag him into the hotel. Pulling his coat off of him, I dodge his clumsy blow, and ignore his raised voice of indignity. "Hey!"

I search all the pockets of the coat, all the while trying to keep my childe off my back, literally. He's grabbing at the coat and trying to punch me, and then his balance goes off, and he falls down. I put a foot on him and pin him to the ground.

Cordelia comes walking down the stairs, Conner in her arms (yet another thing to thank Spike for), and bursts out laughing. Spike looks up at her, and struggles harder, but I'm older and stronger than he is, and besides, he's smashed drunk.

I search his coat pockets and find them loaded with cocaine and drug paraphernalia. I hold it up for my childe to see. "Huh. Never figured you for a coke-man, Will."

He meets my gaze impertinently. "So?"
I allow him to scramble up, and put him in a choke-hold. Cursing me all the way, he comes with me to the bathroom, and starts yelling even louder as I flush his drugs down the toilet, breaking the needle on syringe, smashing the body of the device, and throwing them away. I look at Cordy, who's followed me into the room. "Don't touch that trash can," I instruct her, "Until I've had a chance to empty it. Who knows where he got it." She nods.

Spike looks at me, rage in his beautiful blue eyes. "Wha'da hell does'i matter?" He slurs.

I tighten the hold on his neck, unafraid of hurting him. It won't kill him, and he needs a little reminder of who's boss around here, anyway. "You and I may not be able to get human diseases, William, but think about all the ones that are probably on that needle. You wouldn't want Gunn, Wesley, Fred or Cordelia getting one, would you?"

Lowering my voice, I lean in close to him. "I don't think you do. Because if they did, I might have to kill you."

Spike tries with a desperate outburst to break my grasp, but it doesn't work. Nonetheless, Cordy backs up, taking Conner with her. I nod my thanks, and go back to teaching Spike tonight's lesson.

Letting go of him for a split second, I punch him solidly in the face. He reels, but keeps his balance and looks up at me. "What the fuck did you do that for?"

I smile. "Good. You're a little more sober." He doesn't deny it.

"Now, maybe you can remember my rules. One, they are my rules, and you are forced, by vampire law and honor, to obey me." Spike spits on my shoes. I ignore him.

"Two, this is my house, and in my house, everyone will obey my rules. You are not an exception." Spike glares at me with a gaze that's put fear in many hearts. Again, I ignore him.

"And three, do you know what cocaine does to a vampire?" He's surprised by the quick change of ideas, but he shrugs.

"Don't know and don't care, mate."

I smile. "Well, I guess you're about to find out. Let me tell you, it's unpleasant. And I think I'm going to let you experience it all, as punishment."

Spike shrugs again. "Okay."

I smile evilly. "Oh, beautiful William. I can guarantee you won't be saying that in the afternoon." My expression hardens abruptly, and I throw his coat at him and push him out of the bathroom. "Go to bed. I don't want to see or hear from you until you're sober."

Spike flips me off. "Don't worry, mate. You won't."

I just watch him leave.

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