I don't own BTVS or Angel but I would give up my entire collection of
jewelry and scarves for them. I don't own the men or women in this fic, but
if I did I would use my entire collection of jewelry and scarves on them.
:) Anyway, I'm going on vacation soon and I won't have anything up for a
little while. I tried to take the request of having more people in this
chapter and making it longer, in to consideration. I really don't think I
wrote it that much longer, but I tried. I also wanted to make it slightly
humorous... A small break in tension. Plus, it's fun to write the guys when
they're happy or joking. I really don't want to write the most tense parts
of the story, while I'm on a deadline like this. Well, here we go.
On with the show.
::The Dalliance of the Eagles- Farmhouse::
"Son of the Queen, bloody martyring bastard, hell!" Spike jumped up and down, while holding his forearm close to his chest. "Why didn't you tell me the bleedin' weapon was tipped in poison?"
Angel chuckled morbidly. "I didn't think you were dumb enough to slice open your own arm. Apparently, I underestimated you, as per usual."
"You always do that. Why do you think that is?" Spike licked his cut, like a wounded dog. He hoped that the healing properties, in his saliva, would cancel out the poison from the knife Angel had handed him.
"You're just very unpredictable. What can I say?" Angel grabbed Spike's arm and shook his head. "Don't say a word." Angel worked up the inside of his mouth and leaned over Spike's extended arm. He pulled it to his face and gave the wound a sturdy lick, up and down.
Spike's mouth hung open, as he witnessed his Sire lick his arm. Then, he felt a tingle reach from his arm all the way toward his spine. "Ee-yow!" Spike tried to yank back his arm, from the shock, but Angel just held it still, so he could lean back and inspect it once more. "What was that?"
"Sire blood. Don't say anything." Angel narrowed his gaze at his childe and let go of the injured appendage.
Spike shook his head and hugged his arm to his chest. "Wouldn't dream of it." He muttered, as he began to pace. "So, on a lighter note, what do you think I should do about Penn? Torture him or just kill him and be done with it?" Spike's laugh was on the verge of sounding maniacal, but he really didn't care. "I think I'd like to draw it out... the pain, that is."
Angel shrugged and slumped down into the couch behind him. "If you can catch him, I suppose you can do whatever you want."
Spike scoffed, with exasperation. "Well, aren't you the dour pessimistic pouf I've always pegged you for?"
"Yes, he is." Gunn waltzed into the room, letting the door slam behind him. He grinned at the two vampires and laughed. "I'm returning your son, Fangboy. He's outside with Skittles. The stupid cat jumped out of the car and ran up a tree. You'll never guess what happened after that."
"Let me guess. Little brother magically transformed into a monkey in front of your very own eyes?" Spike grinned as the man nodded. "Yup. He can't just leave the cat up there. Now, can he?" Spike shook his head. "He's like his dad. Don't matter if kitten is happy or not. He has to make sure he's happy with kitten."
"What are you talking about, Spike?" Angel asked, his own exasperation evident.
"Just making an observation, Sire."
"Well, why is it that every time you make an observation I can't figure out what the hell you're talking about?"
"Oh, well that could be because of a collection of reasons. Part of it is cause you're an insensitive git and the other is cause I spent so much time learning from Dru, over the years. She was my savior, yes, but she was bloody nutty."
"Hell, boy, what did ya' learn from her? How to confuse your Sire in ten words or less?"
"Technically, my statement was more than ten words long." Spike grinned at the groan, that statement earned.
"I wish you were alive, so I could kill you."
Spike's grin grew wider. "I knew you were jealous that Dru got the kill and you just got to watch. Voyeurism isn't enough for you, huh?" Spike wagged his eyebrows, causing Gunn to snort.
"I'm starting to think Cordelia is more clairvoyant than she lets on." Gunn sighed. "No, wonder that kid of yours is traumatized."
"That's not why I'm traumatized." Connor strolled into the room, cat stashed under his arm, and soaked to the bone. "It's raining."
"You distressed over a little rain?" Spike cast a look over at his Sire and shrugged. "Poor boy would have never made it in England." Angel just nodded in agreement.
"No, Spike. I meant that I don't care if you and dad are..." Connor waved his free arm in the air, in a vague motion. "...you know." Connor lifted his pet up to his face and sighed. The poor thing looked like a drowned rat. It meowed, sadly and Connor brought it to his chest. "I'm upset that Gunn wants to extract my kitten's balls."
Angel's mouth dropped open and Spike laughed. He looked over at his Sire and it only made him laugh harder. That was a look of Angel shock... but what was he shocked over? Was it the fact that his son thought that they were... Ha! Now, that was a laugh riot! Or was it because Connor had said balls? He was more surprised that the kid used the word extract, himself. Kids, nowadays, were pretty dumb.
Angel shook his head. Him and Spike... what? And Gunn wanted to do what? Which was a safer question. *Ball Extraction for 1000, Alex.* "Gunn wants to do what?"
"He called it fixing, but I call it cruel." Connor hugged his kitten and glared at the amn beside his father. "What say you?" He narrowed his gaze and stuck out his chin.
"Umm..." Gunn started. What was he supposed to say? He was sorry? Hell, no. Connor was looking at him kind of evil, though. That couldn't be good. Not good, at all. "...sorry?"
"Ugh!" Connor threw an arm up into the air and let out a string of expletives, directed at the bane of his kitten's balls. {Hehe. I'm sorry. I had to say it!}"We're getting a shower. You people make me sick." Connor stomped up the stairs, gracelessly and head toward his room. Everyone stood in silence, until they heard a door slam.
"We make him sick? He bathes in the same water as that monster." Spike scrunched up his nose in distaste. "Almost as gross as you and Dar..."
"It continuously running water, Spike." Angel shot an annoyed look at his childe. "He sounds like you, when he's stomping up those stairs."
"Hey, don't look at me." Spike threw his hands up in a surrendering fashion. "He's your son."
"God!" Gunn pulled a disgusted look. "You sound like old people."
"We are old people." Spike grinned.
"Old married people." Gunn clarified.
"Well, how cheap do you think I am?" Spike crossed his arms across his chest and snarled. "I'm not marrying anyone until I get a ring." Spike looked at his left hand, in thought. "By the by, I would be the husband."
"You lie." Angel looked alarmed. "I'm *so* much manlier than you!"
Spike shook his head. "Are not."
"Am too." Angel insisted.
"Are not."
"Am too."
"Are not."
"Am..."
"I'm sorry, but are you two fighting over who would be the man in your relationship, if you were hitched?" Gunn was getting more frightened, as time progressed.
Wesley and Lorne had been listening from the kitchen and decided to join in on the fun, while there was fun to be had. "Angel would be the man." Lorne grinned at the three 'men' who turned their attention toward him. "No offence, Spike."
"None bloody taken." Spike frowned.
"I disagree." Wesley shrugged. "I think Spike would be the more macho party in their... party." Wesley caught the snarl that Angel was forming. "I don't believe that the Lore applies any more, now does it?"
"Good point. Thank you, Wes." Spike grinned at the British man and stuck his tongue out at his Sire.
"Thanks for jumpin' in, English. Like we needed you and Lorne, to make this any weirder than it already is." Gunn looked over at the two vampires and shook his head. "I hate vampires."
"I think you lost a member of your fan club, Saint Angelus." Spike looked down at his arm and realized it was closing, quite nicely. "Thanks, Peaches!" He said with a grin.
Angel quirked a brow. "Haven't heard that one in a long time."
"That's cause I know you don't like it. I could call you a lot worse, you know."
"I doubt you could do much worse than Peaches, Spike."
"God, the man just asks for it, don't he?" Spike took a deep breath and started. "You, sir, are an artless, bawdy, yammering, lumpish, tosser. You're a dimwitted, ill-fated, hell-hated, pouf. That good enough for you... Peaches?"
Angel shook his head. "You are a brazen, cheeky, little whelp. You were sent from hell to torment me and the bastards didn't leave a return address. That's the only reason I don't send you back."
Spike screwed up his face. "I'm not too awfully little."
Angel laughed and laid his head back against his seat. "We should probably get ready for my other wayward childe."
Spike gave Angel a sturdy kick in the shin, causing the older man to squeak. "I'm not wayward, neither. I've been behaving myself, ta."
Angel nodded and pulled his leg up to him, so he could rub the bruised area. "Okay, Spike, I see your point."
Wesley was leaning up against the lobby desk and smiling over at Lorne. "They're a mess."
"You talk about 'em like you're their older brother, pet." Lorne smiled, as he said the word. It rolled right off of his tongue, as if he had always said it... just like that. He leaned over and picked up his cup, bringing it to his mouth and sipping.
"I thought you were supposed to drink cold drinks in glasses." Wesley was watching Gunn pace, back and forth, worry etched across his brow. The guy really did worry too much. It kind of reminded him of himself only months ago.
".and it bothered him, so I decided to cut back. Don't know why, really." Lorne shrugged and looked over to catch Wesley deep in thought. "Plus, I really love when penguins slide down the banisters."
Wesley nodded, at whatever Lorne had just said.
"Thought so." Lorne patted Wesley's shoulder and the man flinched. "Loosen up, or you are going to snap like a wire wound too tight." Lorne took another sip of his coffee and grimaced. Stupid Spike, he thought. "I need more sugar." Lorne made his way back into the kitchen, to fix his drink.
"So, guys, are we going to go get the baddie or not?" Gunn asked, trying to push the last conversation they had, into the back of his mind.
"Already taken care of." Spike grinned. He held up his arm for Gunn's inspection and the younger man winced.
"Aw, man. He got you pretty good, huh? It kinda' looks inflamed."
Spike shook his head and looked at the wound. "Naw. Actually, I cut too deep. This is looking lots better in comparison to earlier."
"Wait." Gunn put up his hand and gave in to his confusion. "*You* cut too deep? You mean you did that to yourself?"
"He's a moron." Angel threw in casually.
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"I'm going to stop there, because I'm more mature than this." Spike stuck his nose up in the air and sniffed. "Hmm... Someone smells like flowers."
"That would probably be me." Connor walked down the stairs, a towel draped around his shoulders. Skittles stumbled down the stairs, on his heals. Connor stretched toward the ceiling and sighed. He dropped his arms to his side and looked down at his cat, just as it landed on its fuzzy little face. He looked like a giant black and white cotton ball. "I gave him a bath and blow dried him. He's been falling down, ever since." Connor shook his head, when the kitten picked itself up and collapsed again. "He must be tired. He ran around Cordy's all day long."
"Well, I hope you're well rested." Spike grinned cheekily. "I expect you to watch my back, when I fight Penn."
"I thought you would want me to watch your back." Angel frowned.
"Yeah, I want you to, but you said it yourself; you can't kill him. I want him dead."
Gunn shook his head and sighed. "Well, I guess I better get back to watching the girls. They are probably beating my score on Tetris, by now." Gunn went to the door and looked back at the other occupants, in the room. "Just call me if you need anything."
Angel nodded at the man and gave a small wave. He turned back toward his childe and sighed, while running a hand through his hair. "Hope we won't need him."
"We won't." Connor assured his father. "Between all of us..." Connor threw a look over at Lorne, who was walking back into the room, blowing the steam off of his cup. "Between almost all of us, we should be fine."
Lorne looked up and caught the other guys staring at him. "What?"
The front doors bust open, causing the men to jump. Gunn fell in through the doorway and gasped. "He..." He stumbled forward and landed on his hands and knees.
Angel jumped up from his chair and rushed toward the man, who was coughing violently. "He's bleeding." Angel gathered the man up in his arms and carried him to the couch. "Get the first aid kit and a towel! Get a towel!"
Wesley had rushed into the kitchen and grabbed the first aid kit, the moment Gunn had fallen through the doorway. He came back, with the supplies and knelt by Angel. "What do you think..."
"Penn." Angel muttered, under his breath.
"Damn it all!" Spike watched his Sire hold the small dishtowel to the side of Gunn's kneck and shook his head. "It all my fault. Death follows me."
"Shut up, Spike." Angel sighed. "It's not your fault."
"It is!" He insisted. "I'm going to make it right, too!" Spike hurried toward the door and grabbed his jacket off of the coat hanger. "What was it they said before the fox hunt, in old England?" Spike flashed a mischievous look toward Wesley. The man shook his head and Spike nodded. "Oh, yeah. Talley-ho." With that Spike headed out in search of the fox.
TBC
-Thank you for the reviews. Thank you for the patience. I love writing this story. It keeps me imaginative. Plus, it feeds my craving for Spike and Angel, while it's off-season for 'Angel'. Anyway please review.-
--The subtitle was Farmhouse, which is a really great song by Phish. You should listen to it.--
On with the show.
::The Dalliance of the Eagles- Farmhouse::
"Son of the Queen, bloody martyring bastard, hell!" Spike jumped up and down, while holding his forearm close to his chest. "Why didn't you tell me the bleedin' weapon was tipped in poison?"
Angel chuckled morbidly. "I didn't think you were dumb enough to slice open your own arm. Apparently, I underestimated you, as per usual."
"You always do that. Why do you think that is?" Spike licked his cut, like a wounded dog. He hoped that the healing properties, in his saliva, would cancel out the poison from the knife Angel had handed him.
"You're just very unpredictable. What can I say?" Angel grabbed Spike's arm and shook his head. "Don't say a word." Angel worked up the inside of his mouth and leaned over Spike's extended arm. He pulled it to his face and gave the wound a sturdy lick, up and down.
Spike's mouth hung open, as he witnessed his Sire lick his arm. Then, he felt a tingle reach from his arm all the way toward his spine. "Ee-yow!" Spike tried to yank back his arm, from the shock, but Angel just held it still, so he could lean back and inspect it once more. "What was that?"
"Sire blood. Don't say anything." Angel narrowed his gaze at his childe and let go of the injured appendage.
Spike shook his head and hugged his arm to his chest. "Wouldn't dream of it." He muttered, as he began to pace. "So, on a lighter note, what do you think I should do about Penn? Torture him or just kill him and be done with it?" Spike's laugh was on the verge of sounding maniacal, but he really didn't care. "I think I'd like to draw it out... the pain, that is."
Angel shrugged and slumped down into the couch behind him. "If you can catch him, I suppose you can do whatever you want."
Spike scoffed, with exasperation. "Well, aren't you the dour pessimistic pouf I've always pegged you for?"
"Yes, he is." Gunn waltzed into the room, letting the door slam behind him. He grinned at the two vampires and laughed. "I'm returning your son, Fangboy. He's outside with Skittles. The stupid cat jumped out of the car and ran up a tree. You'll never guess what happened after that."
"Let me guess. Little brother magically transformed into a monkey in front of your very own eyes?" Spike grinned as the man nodded. "Yup. He can't just leave the cat up there. Now, can he?" Spike shook his head. "He's like his dad. Don't matter if kitten is happy or not. He has to make sure he's happy with kitten."
"What are you talking about, Spike?" Angel asked, his own exasperation evident.
"Just making an observation, Sire."
"Well, why is it that every time you make an observation I can't figure out what the hell you're talking about?"
"Oh, well that could be because of a collection of reasons. Part of it is cause you're an insensitive git and the other is cause I spent so much time learning from Dru, over the years. She was my savior, yes, but she was bloody nutty."
"Hell, boy, what did ya' learn from her? How to confuse your Sire in ten words or less?"
"Technically, my statement was more than ten words long." Spike grinned at the groan, that statement earned.
"I wish you were alive, so I could kill you."
Spike's grin grew wider. "I knew you were jealous that Dru got the kill and you just got to watch. Voyeurism isn't enough for you, huh?" Spike wagged his eyebrows, causing Gunn to snort.
"I'm starting to think Cordelia is more clairvoyant than she lets on." Gunn sighed. "No, wonder that kid of yours is traumatized."
"That's not why I'm traumatized." Connor strolled into the room, cat stashed under his arm, and soaked to the bone. "It's raining."
"You distressed over a little rain?" Spike cast a look over at his Sire and shrugged. "Poor boy would have never made it in England." Angel just nodded in agreement.
"No, Spike. I meant that I don't care if you and dad are..." Connor waved his free arm in the air, in a vague motion. "...you know." Connor lifted his pet up to his face and sighed. The poor thing looked like a drowned rat. It meowed, sadly and Connor brought it to his chest. "I'm upset that Gunn wants to extract my kitten's balls."
Angel's mouth dropped open and Spike laughed. He looked over at his Sire and it only made him laugh harder. That was a look of Angel shock... but what was he shocked over? Was it the fact that his son thought that they were... Ha! Now, that was a laugh riot! Or was it because Connor had said balls? He was more surprised that the kid used the word extract, himself. Kids, nowadays, were pretty dumb.
Angel shook his head. Him and Spike... what? And Gunn wanted to do what? Which was a safer question. *Ball Extraction for 1000, Alex.* "Gunn wants to do what?"
"He called it fixing, but I call it cruel." Connor hugged his kitten and glared at the amn beside his father. "What say you?" He narrowed his gaze and stuck out his chin.
"Umm..." Gunn started. What was he supposed to say? He was sorry? Hell, no. Connor was looking at him kind of evil, though. That couldn't be good. Not good, at all. "...sorry?"
"Ugh!" Connor threw an arm up into the air and let out a string of expletives, directed at the bane of his kitten's balls. {Hehe. I'm sorry. I had to say it!}"We're getting a shower. You people make me sick." Connor stomped up the stairs, gracelessly and head toward his room. Everyone stood in silence, until they heard a door slam.
"We make him sick? He bathes in the same water as that monster." Spike scrunched up his nose in distaste. "Almost as gross as you and Dar..."
"It continuously running water, Spike." Angel shot an annoyed look at his childe. "He sounds like you, when he's stomping up those stairs."
"Hey, don't look at me." Spike threw his hands up in a surrendering fashion. "He's your son."
"God!" Gunn pulled a disgusted look. "You sound like old people."
"We are old people." Spike grinned.
"Old married people." Gunn clarified.
"Well, how cheap do you think I am?" Spike crossed his arms across his chest and snarled. "I'm not marrying anyone until I get a ring." Spike looked at his left hand, in thought. "By the by, I would be the husband."
"You lie." Angel looked alarmed. "I'm *so* much manlier than you!"
Spike shook his head. "Are not."
"Am too." Angel insisted.
"Are not."
"Am too."
"Are not."
"Am..."
"I'm sorry, but are you two fighting over who would be the man in your relationship, if you were hitched?" Gunn was getting more frightened, as time progressed.
Wesley and Lorne had been listening from the kitchen and decided to join in on the fun, while there was fun to be had. "Angel would be the man." Lorne grinned at the three 'men' who turned their attention toward him. "No offence, Spike."
"None bloody taken." Spike frowned.
"I disagree." Wesley shrugged. "I think Spike would be the more macho party in their... party." Wesley caught the snarl that Angel was forming. "I don't believe that the Lore applies any more, now does it?"
"Good point. Thank you, Wes." Spike grinned at the British man and stuck his tongue out at his Sire.
"Thanks for jumpin' in, English. Like we needed you and Lorne, to make this any weirder than it already is." Gunn looked over at the two vampires and shook his head. "I hate vampires."
"I think you lost a member of your fan club, Saint Angelus." Spike looked down at his arm and realized it was closing, quite nicely. "Thanks, Peaches!" He said with a grin.
Angel quirked a brow. "Haven't heard that one in a long time."
"That's cause I know you don't like it. I could call you a lot worse, you know."
"I doubt you could do much worse than Peaches, Spike."
"God, the man just asks for it, don't he?" Spike took a deep breath and started. "You, sir, are an artless, bawdy, yammering, lumpish, tosser. You're a dimwitted, ill-fated, hell-hated, pouf. That good enough for you... Peaches?"
Angel shook his head. "You are a brazen, cheeky, little whelp. You were sent from hell to torment me and the bastards didn't leave a return address. That's the only reason I don't send you back."
Spike screwed up his face. "I'm not too awfully little."
Angel laughed and laid his head back against his seat. "We should probably get ready for my other wayward childe."
Spike gave Angel a sturdy kick in the shin, causing the older man to squeak. "I'm not wayward, neither. I've been behaving myself, ta."
Angel nodded and pulled his leg up to him, so he could rub the bruised area. "Okay, Spike, I see your point."
Wesley was leaning up against the lobby desk and smiling over at Lorne. "They're a mess."
"You talk about 'em like you're their older brother, pet." Lorne smiled, as he said the word. It rolled right off of his tongue, as if he had always said it... just like that. He leaned over and picked up his cup, bringing it to his mouth and sipping.
"I thought you were supposed to drink cold drinks in glasses." Wesley was watching Gunn pace, back and forth, worry etched across his brow. The guy really did worry too much. It kind of reminded him of himself only months ago.
".and it bothered him, so I decided to cut back. Don't know why, really." Lorne shrugged and looked over to catch Wesley deep in thought. "Plus, I really love when penguins slide down the banisters."
Wesley nodded, at whatever Lorne had just said.
"Thought so." Lorne patted Wesley's shoulder and the man flinched. "Loosen up, or you are going to snap like a wire wound too tight." Lorne took another sip of his coffee and grimaced. Stupid Spike, he thought. "I need more sugar." Lorne made his way back into the kitchen, to fix his drink.
"So, guys, are we going to go get the baddie or not?" Gunn asked, trying to push the last conversation they had, into the back of his mind.
"Already taken care of." Spike grinned. He held up his arm for Gunn's inspection and the younger man winced.
"Aw, man. He got you pretty good, huh? It kinda' looks inflamed."
Spike shook his head and looked at the wound. "Naw. Actually, I cut too deep. This is looking lots better in comparison to earlier."
"Wait." Gunn put up his hand and gave in to his confusion. "*You* cut too deep? You mean you did that to yourself?"
"He's a moron." Angel threw in casually.
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"I'm going to stop there, because I'm more mature than this." Spike stuck his nose up in the air and sniffed. "Hmm... Someone smells like flowers."
"That would probably be me." Connor walked down the stairs, a towel draped around his shoulders. Skittles stumbled down the stairs, on his heals. Connor stretched toward the ceiling and sighed. He dropped his arms to his side and looked down at his cat, just as it landed on its fuzzy little face. He looked like a giant black and white cotton ball. "I gave him a bath and blow dried him. He's been falling down, ever since." Connor shook his head, when the kitten picked itself up and collapsed again. "He must be tired. He ran around Cordy's all day long."
"Well, I hope you're well rested." Spike grinned cheekily. "I expect you to watch my back, when I fight Penn."
"I thought you would want me to watch your back." Angel frowned.
"Yeah, I want you to, but you said it yourself; you can't kill him. I want him dead."
Gunn shook his head and sighed. "Well, I guess I better get back to watching the girls. They are probably beating my score on Tetris, by now." Gunn went to the door and looked back at the other occupants, in the room. "Just call me if you need anything."
Angel nodded at the man and gave a small wave. He turned back toward his childe and sighed, while running a hand through his hair. "Hope we won't need him."
"We won't." Connor assured his father. "Between all of us..." Connor threw a look over at Lorne, who was walking back into the room, blowing the steam off of his cup. "Between almost all of us, we should be fine."
Lorne looked up and caught the other guys staring at him. "What?"
The front doors bust open, causing the men to jump. Gunn fell in through the doorway and gasped. "He..." He stumbled forward and landed on his hands and knees.
Angel jumped up from his chair and rushed toward the man, who was coughing violently. "He's bleeding." Angel gathered the man up in his arms and carried him to the couch. "Get the first aid kit and a towel! Get a towel!"
Wesley had rushed into the kitchen and grabbed the first aid kit, the moment Gunn had fallen through the doorway. He came back, with the supplies and knelt by Angel. "What do you think..."
"Penn." Angel muttered, under his breath.
"Damn it all!" Spike watched his Sire hold the small dishtowel to the side of Gunn's kneck and shook his head. "It all my fault. Death follows me."
"Shut up, Spike." Angel sighed. "It's not your fault."
"It is!" He insisted. "I'm going to make it right, too!" Spike hurried toward the door and grabbed his jacket off of the coat hanger. "What was it they said before the fox hunt, in old England?" Spike flashed a mischievous look toward Wesley. The man shook his head and Spike nodded. "Oh, yeah. Talley-ho." With that Spike headed out in search of the fox.
TBC
-Thank you for the reviews. Thank you for the patience. I love writing this story. It keeps me imaginative. Plus, it feeds my craving for Spike and Angel, while it's off-season for 'Angel'. Anyway please review.-
--The subtitle was Farmhouse, which is a really great song by Phish. You should listen to it.--
