Ahem... I don't own Connor or Spike, but I accidentally hit Angel with my car and I'm not sure I wanna' give him back. I'm going to nurse him back to health and see how I feel about it, once he's healthy again. Anyway, Joss Whedon is a genius, I'm not worthy, and you are the nicest reviewers I have ever come in contact with. Kisses and cookies! Now, on with the show!

::The Dalliance of the Eagles- Miranda::

"Angel, what are you thinking?" Spike had been standing there, soaked to the bone, Wesley hanging on his arm, for over five minutes, while Angel collected his thoughts. Wesley groaned quietly, as his stomach started to flip over for the third time.

"Wesley, maybe you should go upstairs." Angel said, finally breaking the silence he had been sitting in. "We could get Lorne to help you."

Wesley drooped on Spike's arm and the vampire let go of his hold, allowing the man to slip to the ground in one fluid motion. "Wes?"

Wesley lay back on the ground and waved his hand at Spike. "'s okay. Sleep." He muttered on a yawn.

"This is completely out of character." Spike thought out loud. "I wonder if someone slipped you something."

"You think some one slipped me a... what's it? A... umm... drugs?" Wesley almost laughed at the thought. "Imagine, someone trying to take advantage of me!" Wesley looked down his crumpled form and chuckled. "I'm a mess."

"Self-depreciating git, aren't you?" Spike crossed his arms across his chest, in an uncomfortable fashion. He spared Angel a glance, just to see how mad his Sire was about this certain situation. Angel didn't look angry, so much as amused.

"If I had found him in this situation nine months ago, I would have tore out his heart and eaten it." Angel's eyes didn't leave Wesley's prone form, a moment. He really didn't know why he had said what he had, even if it was true, and he wasn't sure he wanted to explain the statement to Spike, even if he could.

Spike was in shock. "Truly? Were you soulless nine months ago?"

"No. Try three months ago. That's why we called on Willow. She re-ensouled me." Angel looked up at his Childe and found a playful smirk worming it's way onto his face. "What?" Spike chuckled in a knowing fashion. "What?!"

"Who'd you shag?" Spike's grin grew. "Was it Cordy? Or maybe it was Twiggy... umm.. Fred. No, she's not your style. It wasn't one of the... Naw. You've been stickin' to the birds, as of late." Spike looked thoughtful. "Don't you gotta' love 'em, for it to zap away your soul?"

"Spike, my soul is safe." Angel opened a drawer at his desk and shuffled through its contents, just to have something to do. "I had it done on purpose."

"You're bloody teasin' me an' you know it." Spike snarled. "Why would you, Mr. bleedin' 'Save the World so I Can Be Human' get rid of your soul and let Angelus run amuck through your city?"

"There's too much to that story Spike. It could take forever to tell it all." Angel gave Spike a pleading look, but his Childe was relentless.

Out of pure frustration, Spike started pacing up and down the office floor. "I have forever, Angel, and so do you. Now, if you don't wanna' tell the story, fine... But do tell me why you didn't think to call and tell me about you being the scourge of bloody Europe, again!" Spike face grew red, with the borrowed blood he had consumed earlier that night. He wasn't only mad; he was outraged that Angel wouldn't have him contacted before he did something so dumb. (Plus, he was more than a little annoyed that Angelus hadn't bothered to call him up, for old time's sake. Of course, he would never admit it.)

"Spike, you are getting mad over nothing." Angel stood up and walked around his desk, to where Spike had been standing, moments before. "Remember, I had no clue you had a soul. Did you even have a soul at that time?"

"Yes." Spike stopped pacing. "I'm tired of this. Why aren't we out doing that thing with the fists and the swords, that makes us feel all manly?

Angel thought a moment. "Going to a Renaissance Festival?"

Spike's jaw fell open at his Sire's hideously awful joke. "Now I know I gotta' kill something. Sometimes you make me feel like The Hulk. You know that? Losta' testosterone and I got nowhere to put it." He headed over to a trunk and lifted the lid, pulling out an old fashion mace. "Still into your toys, eh pet?"

"I thought you wanted a sword." Angel made his way to the other vampire and lifted the mace out of his hands. "Don't play with it. It's an antique." He placed it back in the trunk and closed the lid.

"The other kid's mums collect antique furniture. Mine collects antique weaponry." Spike sighed and looked down at Wesley's sleeping form. "What we gonna' do about him?"

Angel shrugged. "I suppose he should just sleep it off. Huh..."

"What's that?" Spike asked, curiously.

Angel shrugged. "He snores."

"Yeah, well you're one to talk. You sound like a steam ship comin' into harbor, when you sleep. You talk too. 'Specially when you are in the middle of a particularly nasty dream."

Angel narrowed his gaze at Spike. "And you know this how?"

"Hello, Angelus. I'm Spike. I used to live wit' you way back when dinosaurs roamed the earth. It just so happens that I had a hard time sleepin', every now and again. I watched you sleep to pass the time." Spike smirked at the sensory image he was developing. "I know it sounds creepy, but it calmed me down. Dru would frustrate me or Darla would just be Darla and you would be the head 'o the house, sleepin' like a new born babe. And when you weren't sleepin' like a baby..." Spike stopped there and ran his fingers through his hair.

"What?" Angel's interest was pricked by this sudden revelation Spike had so easily slipped into and so earnestly tried to back out of. "Don't stop there, boy." Spike's head snapped up and his eyes widened. Angel hadn't realized that he had just addressed Spike in Angelus' favorite term, nor did he care. Right now he was curious and Spike *would* satisfy his curiosity.

Spike's jaw opened and shut, like he was trying to make words, but the refused to come out. He finally just shrugged. "I would wait it out with you. Darla was off with Dru, Penn would be, God knows where, and you would scream so loud. You had no one else." Spike sighed, his face had grown red again, this time from embarrassment.

Angel tried not to look too smug, after hearing Spike's confession. It wouldn't do if Spike saw his expression and decided never to talk about these things again. So what would be the right thing to say, at this juncture? "Oh." Yup, that about summed it up.

Spike let out a nervous laugh and then scoffed. About what, he wasn't sure. It just felt like the right thing to do. "What are we women? No offense." Spike said to Wesley's limp and lifeless form. Angel couldn't help but chuckle at Spike's attempt to break the tension. "Come on, Sire. Let's go kill us a spleen eating monster."

Angel almost turned down his Chile's offer, but he realized that if he did, Spike may just go out on his own. "Okay, but a few ground rules."

Spike scrunched up his nose, but said nothing.

"First rule is, I tell you to get out of the way, get back, get down, or just get and you will obey me. Secondly, when I say we are going home, that means we are going home. Spike, don't look at me like that. I don't want you any more dead than you already are. Okay?"

Spike pushed Angel out of his way and stomped over to the desk, to pick up his duster. He slipped it on and headed out of the room. Angel shook his head and sighed. He made his way after Spike, only to find himself flat on his back, the moment he stepped out the door.

"You may be my Sire, but you are not my daddy." Spike hissed at the vampire, pinned beneath his weight. "I humor you more than anyone else I have ever met, including Drusilla," He lifted Angel by the lapels of his shirt, until they were almost nose to nose and growled, "but I think you should know that I could stop at any moment. I don't have to obey you and I can take care of myself!" Spike let go of Angel's shirt, causing the older vampire's head to hit the hard wood floor, and pushed himself up and away from his Sire.

Angel was dazed, to say the least. He had hardly noticed the way his head had cracked against the flooring, when Spike had let him go. What he noticed was a very frustrated vampire pacing, or stomping, up and down the lobby floor. "Spike..."

Spike stopped in his tracks and waited for his Sire to kick his butt out, on the street.

"I understand." Angel pushed himself up off the ground and dusted the back of his pants off.

Spike hadn't realized he had been holding his breath, but it came out in a gush, when Angel had stood up. He didn't know what to say, so he just said nothing.

"I understand, but if you tackle me again, I'm going to whip your cold, dead carcass, until I feel happy about it." Angel smiled sweetly, punctuating his words. "And that could take awhile, seeing as how I'm soul filled and all."

Spike agreed that that was a fair arrangement and nodded.

Angel walked over to the coat rack and pulled off his coat. "What's got you so high strung, anyway? Other than my little, over-protective bout, back there."

Spike wasn't sure if he wanted to tell Angel, but he knew that he really couldn't stop himself. Lately, it had been next to impossible for him to hold back what he was thinking, or what he felt, especially to those closest to him. Wasn't that part of the reason he had left Sunnydale, and all that it implied, behind? "You still won't tell me about your dream."

Angel would have laughed, if the mere mention of his nightmare hadn't sent a chill up and down his spine. "Nope." Angel said, as he pressed past his Childe and out to slay the demons.

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"Angel, just cut off it's head, why don't you!" Spike yelled at his Sire, as he kicked a gangly orange demon in, what he presumed was, it's gut.

"It's hard to do that, when you are the one with the sword." Angel threw his head back, so that it connected with a crunch, with the face of the demon-creature that held him around the waist.

Spike plunged said sword into the head of the orange monster and twisted the blade, harshly. Blue ooze spurted from the wound and stained the sword's blade. Spike unsheathed it from the creature's head and headed over to his Sire, who was now pummeling the face of his enemy. Gashes and cuts were decorating the monster's face, as a blazing intensity had taken over his Sire's. "Your sword?"

"No. Don't want it." Angel said in between blows.

"I never thought you would be into torturous deaths, Angel. I thought that was Angelus' job description." Spike held out the sword, just to have it snatched away.

Angel pressed the blade under the creature's chin and pressed until he heard a satisfying squeal. "What are you?" The monster squirmed and bucked, but he had nothing on Angel. He was rewarded with a little more pressure on the sword. "I'll ask again. What are you? I know you are carnivorous or you wouldn't be eating homeless people, in an alleyway."

"Technically, they aren't eating the people, just their insides." Spike seemed resigned to playing good cop, apparently.

"Just like we didn't eat the people, just their blood? Same conclusion comes out of it. Dead people." Angel shifted the blade and the creature howled.

"I don't think they understand us." Spike looked bored.

Angel nodded and lifted the sword. He stood and looked down at the stunned monster, at his feet. "Oh well." He said, as he swung the blade and separated the monster's head from its body. Ooze splattered both Angel and Spike.

"You're paying my dry cleaning." Spike muttered.

"Don't I always?" Angel sighed. He wiped the sword on his pants, leaving blue streaks in its wake.

"Were they in the dream?" Spike asked curiously.

"No. Drop it." Angel said evenly, as he left the alleyway, the demons, and his childe behind.

Spike hurried after Angel and fell in with the older vampire's footsteps. "You're going to tell me."

"Yes." Angel agreed. "But not now."

"Can I make guesses?" Spike continued.

Angel groaned. He cupped his childe's neck and squeezed firmly. It wasn't a threat, but it had the promise of a threat. "Remember what I said about not allowing anything to hurt you?"

"Yes." Spike smiled.

"I'm about to take it back. I want to hurt you and I'm almost ready to humor myself." Angel took back his hand and let it drop to his side. "Why don't you find something else to occupy your mind with? Why don't you take up bird watching or give up smoking?"

Spike audibly gasped at the comment. "Give up smoking? You are off your rocker, if you think I'm going to give up smoking!"

Angel shrugged and slowed down his pace. "It wasn't an order, Spike. Just a suggestion."

"A nutty suggestion." The younger vamp shook his head and gave Angel an unbelieving look. "Give up smoking." Spike scoffed for the second time that night. "Do you even know how stupid you are sometimes, Angelus?"

"No. Do you realize that you call me Angelus just as much, or more, than you call me Angel?" Angel watched his feet, as they walked down the sidewalk. He had one hand shoved in his coat pocket and the other gripping the handle of an ornately designed sword. There was nothing weird going on here.

Spike shrugged. "Force of habit."

"I guess." Angel squinted up at the stars. They walked in silence, a while like that. Angel looking for constellations and Spike kicking rocks down the sidewalk.

Spike finally broke the silence. "Connor needs a dog."

Angel was taken back, for a second. Whatever Angel thought his childe would say next, didn't even come close to that. "A dog?"

"What boy doesn't have a dog?"

"I didn't have a dog." Angel said flatly.

"Yeah, and look how great you turned out." Spike retorted. "The boy needs a dog. A big dog or a little dog. Nothing in between. A little one may teach him to take care of things weaker than him, while a big one may be a comfort, when he's afraid or something."

"Why would he be afraid?" Angel asked, not liking the way this conversation was going.

"I don't know. Why are you afraid over a little dream?" Spike asked

"It's not just a dream." Angel muttered, almost quiet enough that Spike didn't hear him.

"You admit it." Spike smiled. "I'm good at getting what I want." Spike stated, sure of himself and his powers of coaxing the truth out of Angel.

"Don't look so smug." Angel said with a small smile. It never reached his eyes.

"Now all I have to do, is find out what the dream was about." Spike thought out loud.

"Your not that good." Angel laughed at the bewildered look that passed over Spike's face. Evidently, his childe had not meant to speak his thoughts. "We need to go check on, Wes. Race me back to the hotel." Angel was off like a shot, getting a head start, on Spike. He laughed at the string of expletives that left Spike's mouth. He almost wanted to let Spike win. Almost.

TBC

(I've had a busy weekend and had to find time to type. That's usually not a problem for me. Thank you for being patient and thank you for the reviews.)

-The chapter was named Miranda for a reason. "Every day of his adult life Joseph Stalin shared his bed with a stuffed baby doll named Miranda." I heard that last night and I just thought that was pretty interesting and, more than a little, creepy. Anyway.-