I don't own BTVS or Angel and I never will, although I would be willing to buy them if I had lots and lots of money. I don't own Spike, Angel, Connor, Lorne, Wesley, or Skittles, but I'm willing to write about them until my fingers bleed. By the way, you guys are the best! Oh, and although Joss, with his power of giving families to young men with familial complexes, is a genius and absolutely wonderful, I think I should take some credit on making Connor happy in this fic. I gave him a kitty. Ahem...

Anyway, on with the show.

::The Dalliance of the Eagles- Go with the Flow::

Angel jumped when he heard the loud thumping sounds coming from the ceiling, which caused him to spill a mug of blood on some old documentation he had stolen from Wesley. He wished that he had a broom handle, so he could cause some thumps of his own. Angel concentrated on sending some angry vibes in Spike's direction. He knew that the blood between them had thinned out in the last century, but he could still hope that Spike would feel some type of pin prickle of sensation, from his Sire. Of course, that was probably hoping too much.

Angel tried soaking up the spilled blood with his shirtsleeve and winced when he heard the thumping upstairs grow louder. "Spike!" He knew that Spike probably wouldn't hear his call and even if he did, he would probably ignore it. It was the first time he had acknowledged his Childe's existence in the last two days. The thumping grew louder. "Stupid boy. *William*!" Angel swore, as he looked down at his sleeve. Another shirt ruined.

"What?!" Angel looked up to find his Childe's frowning face hovering in the doorway. "You don't have to yell, *Angelus*!"

The thumps continued and Angel was stumped. "If that's not you, then who is stomping around upstairs?"

Spike grinned. "Oh. That's Skittles."

"What? How could a little kitten make all that noise?" Angel got up from his seat and walked around his desk, to sit on the corner.

"Well, I didn't say he was making the noise alone. Connor is chasing him around the room. It's kinda' cute... in an annoying, bad way." Spike walked up to his Sire, signature smirk sketching itself across his features. He grabbed the cuff of Angel's shirtsleeve between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing the material. "Make a mess, did ya'?"

Angel looked down at the stain and smiled. "Yeah, I guess I did."

"If you wanted to go shopping, you didn't have to bloody your shirt up. You could have just said, 'We're going shopping' and I woulda' jumped in that deathtrap you call a car and we woulda' been on our way." Spike dropped his hand and hugged himself. "It's kinda' cold tonight. That's strange, you know. Things like that usually don't register with me, since I'm dead and all."

"We?" Angel asked.

"We what? Oh, you mean about going shopping? Yeah. I mean someone has to make sure you don't dress up like a poof. The others haven't done such a good job on that front and I figured between me and Lorne, we could have you dress up like a right..."

"Ponce?" Angel smirked at the startled look Spike gave him.

"No. I'm trying to save you from looking like a ponce." Spike head back toward the door. "Why don't you get something else on. Something that doesn't scream 'I'm a serial killer' and I'll go get Lorne. We can go buy you some more shirts and I can get some cig... a new pair of pants."

Angel gave Spike a knowing smile. "What's wrong with the pants you have on?"

Spike grinned back. His Sire wasn't a fool. "I'm wearing a hole in the arse. It's becoming threadbare and I don't favor showing the lot of you, the backside of this beautiful work of art, which is me."

Angel couldn't help chuckling. "You still don't wear underclothes, do you?"

"Curiosity dusted the vamp." Spike quirked a brow. "Hurry up and change your shirt."

Angel watched Spike leave the room and smirked. Spike, taking *him* shopping? Now, that was an interesting idea. Hadn't Spike pointed out how he had hated getting dressed up by Angel, when he was a fledgling? Was this some sort of revenge? One could only hope, Angel thought with a laugh.

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"I'm not wearing that." Angel threw the bright blue sweater back at the source of his annoyance.

Lorne caught the shirt, as it was flung in his face. "Angel, why do you keep rejecting everything I show to you? I was almost positive you would like this one." Lorne folded the shirt and placed it back on the shelf. "You're too picky."

"Thank the gods for that. Last thing we need is for Angel to go jumpin' the next little blonde thing that walks by." Spike was muttering, as he pulled a dark red, silk shirt off of a hanger and tossed it to Angel. "I know you like that one. I'll let you get it if you humor Lorne on the blue sweater."

Angel grinned, as he looked at the shirt. Then, he looked at the tag and winced. "I don't wear an extra large, Spike. Give me a large." He handed the shirt back to Spike, who was now grinning like a fool.

"Hey, what can I say? You look like you've put on a few pounds. If twenty pounds can be called a few." Spike shrugged and draped the shirt over the rail he had gotten it off of. He picked up a large and handed to his Sire. "I suggest you try it on."

"I know what size I wear, Spike, and I haven't put on weight." Angel put the shirt up against his torso and almost cringed. It would be an act of God if he could actually fit it over his chest. He looked up to find Spike grinning at him.

"You're fat." Spike erupted in laughter, when Angel's forehead drew together and his bottom lip stuck out. "You're also a pouter... and a poofter. Don't forget that you're a poofter."

"Said the Billy Idol wanna-be. By the way, Spike..." Angel cast a glance at his childe's new pants, he was wearing. They were the same black jeans he was accustomed to, except more form fitting. "Do you think those jeans are tight enough. I can't tell that you run around commando. You know, except that I can."

Spike chuckled. Like him and Dru didn't run around naked in the moonlight, way back when him and Angel were soulless. Like Darla and Angelus didn't laugh their asses off and make bets on who was the bigger exhibitionist. Like Angel really wanted to visit those memories. Like he really cared what his Sire wanted. "I'll buy some undies if it bothers you so much. I like these pants. They show off my tight lil'..."

"So..." Lorne interrupted. "Here's a nice brown button up."

Spike looked over and grabbed the piece of cloth. "Oh, this is mine. Good it's a medium. I'm tiny and cute, unlike some other broody vampires I know." Spike slipped the shirt on, over his black tee shirt and buttoned it up. It fit snugly, but in a good way. "I like. Angel, did you bring your credit cards?"

Angel rolled his eyes and headed toward the dressing room. "I never pegged you for a Spartan. Dressing out in the open."

"I could be undressing out in the open. Give the kiddies a nice show and all." Spike unbuttoned the shirt and shrugged it off of his shoulders. He motioned for Lorne to follow him and they both made there way after Angel.

"Isn't it enough that we have Lorne here? Do you really feel the need to make a bigger commotion?" Angel walked into the room and closed the door behind him.

"I probably should feel insulted." Lorne shrugged. "But I found this candy apple red sports jacket over there earlier and my mind keeps on slipping back to it. You don't think anyone will buy it first do you?"

"My guess would be... no." Spike smiled sweetly and turned toward the dressing room, Angel occupied.

Angel looked around the small space and sniffed. Who ever thought that a grown man could change in a three-by-three dressing room should have their intestines wrapped around their necks, Angel thought idly, as he peeled off his black button up and knocked his elbow into the wall.

"Be careful, Sire. Don't want you ripping holes in the fabrics. If you feel that it won't fit over those massive shoulders of yours, then don't force it. Just throw it back out here and I'll get you a bigger size." Spike leaned against the dressing room door and grinned at the cursing he heard on the other side.

"My shoulders aren't *that* massive."

Spike could actually here the pout in Angel's voice. "You know what? I think it must run in the family. You and Connor are a lot alike. Not *that* much alike, I'm sure." Spike mocked.

Angel answered by tossing the shirt he unsuccessfully tried on, over the door. "Get me the extra large." He growled. He hated when Spike was right.

Spike handed Lorne the shirt, which had landed on his head, and motioned him to go. "So, Angel, while I have you trapped, what have you been dreaming about?" Spike heard a warning growl from the other side of the door, but decided to ignore it. "Don't push on the door, I'll only push back. Oh, and don't try to bust through it either, Angelus. These little pieces of wood here, at my back, can make pretty good stakes if there broken right."

"Spike, move away from the door." Angel tried to keep his tone neutral, but failed miserably.

"That would be a big uh-uh, Love." Spike leaned his weight into the door and sighed. "How can I protect myself if I don't know what's after me?"

"I'll protect you." Angel murmured.

"That's sweet, Angel, but ridiculous. You aren't with me all the time. Even though I'm staying home a lot more, you can't always be with me." Spike took an unneeded breath and let it out. "Think logically, pet. I'll probably drive you crazy and then you'll want to *give* me to this big nasty, you're so afraid of."

"No." Angel hit the door, just hard enough to make Spike jump forward and stumble over his own feet. He took the chance to open it, before Spike could regain his footing. He stood over his Childe, shirtless, glaring down at him. "That was stupid."

"But it is necessary." Spike looked over his shoulder, at the vampire looming over him. "You must tell me what I'm up against. Are you in trouble too? Is Connor or Wes? Gunn, Cordy, Fred, Lorne?"

"You rang?" Lorne walked up to the two arguing vamps and took in the situation. Shirtless, angry Sire standing over angry, snarling Childe. "Maybe now is not a good time." Lorne turned around and followed his feet to Men's apparel. "Got to love vampires. They're never boring."

Angel offered Spike a hand and pulled him to his feet. "I'll take care of it."

"Does the *it* have a name or a gender?" Spike continued to try and bleed information, out of his Sire. Not in the literal sense, of course. That was plan C.

"Yes." Angel pointed at the shirt he left crumpled in the dressing room. "Is it okay if I go and get that, or are you going to do something stupid again?"

"Good thing about me, Angel. I never do the same stupid thing twice." Spike grinned at the look his Sire gave him. "In a row. I never do the same stupid thing twice in a row." Spike nodded along with his statement.

Angel walked into the room and slipped his shirt on. He was almost too tired to button it. The whole situation with Spike had drained him. Not in the literal sense, of course. Spike was too smart for that.

"Angel, if you are really worried about it, then you should tell me, you know?" Spike tried again, but he knew that he wasn't getting anywhere.

"I know. It's not the right time or the right place, though." Angel was rumpled and more than a little tired. His hair was messy, his shirt was wrinkled, and all he wanted to do was go home and play with Skittles.

If playing Angel was like playing a baseball game, Spike knew he would be striking out. "You wanna' go? We can go buy your shirts, you already have picked, get Lorne, and head back home."

"Yeah, let's get going. I'm starting to feel old." Angel glared at Spike, successfully shushing the predictable quip that tried to escape his mouth. "Don't say anything."

Spike grinned. "About what? You being old?"

Angel held back a chuckle and headed toward the Men's clothes, where he spotted a pair of red horns. "Shut up. I'm not that much older than you, boy."

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, old man." Spike rushed over to where Lorne who stood smiling at the coat he was wearing. "Nice coat."

"Yeah and practically a steal. I wonder how they could price it so low and nobody has bought it yet." Lorne played with the lapels of the coat and smiled wider.

"I wonder." Angel muttered. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah, let's buy this stuff and head out." Spike pulled at the coat Lorne was wearing and grabbed up the other items. "Come with me Lorne. We'll buy this stuff so Angel doesn't have to converse with the dreaded checkout people. Angel, you drive the car around so Lorne and me don't have to walk so far."

Angel tossed his wallet at Spike and headed outside, without a grumble. He really didn't want to talk to the people behind the counter, up front. They always wanted to ask how his day was going and they really didn't want to know the answer. And they always looked so happy, even when you could smell all the other emotions right there on there skin. Those hypocritical smiley faces, taking his credit cards and making his life hell. He sighed at his train of thought. He really needed some undisturbed sleep.

Spike gathered the clothes closer to his body and walked up to the front, placing them on the counter in front of the shiny faced teenager, working the register. "My day sucked, don't ask me." The boy nodded and started ringing up the items. Spike turned toward Lorne and stomped his foot, in frustration. "It didn't work. Plan A was a bust and we're going to have to skip to Plan B." Spike smirked. "It looks like it's up to you, now. Do you think we should get Wesley in on it?"

"He'd probably get a kick out of it." Lorne shrugged.

"Either that or have an aneurysm. I know the poof's voice isn't exactly sweet to listen to. The guy was always looking for new ways to torture the lot of us. You think he didn't sink low enough, as to tie me up and sing. Dru loved it. She was crazy." Spike grinned. "I feel bad for you, though."

Lorne just shrugged. He knew it sounded stupid, but just thinking about this plan of Spike's made him want a drink, horribly.

Spike handed the boy behind the counter a credit card and signed the receipt.

The kid looked at it and frowned. "Angel? You don't have a last name?"

Spike shrugged and picked up his bags. "What can I say? I'm a child of the 80's." Spike nodded toward the door and winked at Lorne. "Come on. Let's go mess with my Sire."

TBC

Okay, guys. I know you wanna' know the dream. I'm not promising you'll know it next installment, but it's getting close. Thanks for being faithful to the story. I love you guys so much!

-The sub-title in this chapter is called, 'Go with the Flow' because I love the Queens of the Stone Age and it's a good song. Plus, it just felt like the right name for this installment. *shrug*-