"Spike, what the hell do you think you're doing here?" Angel snarled. "This is ridiculous. What was going through your mind? Getting yourself transformed into a puppet and mailing yourself to Buffy, of all the idiotic things to do! Hasn't she been through enough already without you pulling this crap?"
"It's none of your business," Spike retorted in a harsh whisper, keenly aware that he needed to keep Buffy and Dawn from hearing.
"You're tricking them. They obviously don't know the truth about you."
"I just wanted to see how they were doing," Spike said honestly. "They don't need to know I'm back."
Angel edged closer. "I could tell them."
"You won't, though," Spike guessed. "You want me to leave here with Buffy never knowing."
"You don't know that," Angel retorted, eyes narrowed.
"Yeah, I do." Spike was sure he was right; he could feel it. "If you wanted Buffy to know the truth about me, you'd have told her already. Fact is, you're afraid Buffy'll pick me over you if she finds out I'm alive--well, undead again."
Angel scowled. "She wouldn't. You don't think so either, because if you did, you wouldn't be hiding your identity from her."
Sensing vulnerability, Spike pressed his advantage. "You want to take that chance? On top of that, you know Buffy'll be pissed at you for hiding the fact that I've been back for months. I'll make sure you come out of this situation looking as bad as I do. Worse, even. You know I can do it." P "Fine. I have a solution to this whole mess. You come back to Los Angeles with me, now." With that, Angel grabbed for Spike again.
Angel had the advantages of surprise, sheer physical size, and more rest (not having gone through a washing machine and a dryer earlier in the day). But Spike had reached the end of his rope. The day had already been long and trying enough and now here was Angel, marching in acting like he owned the place and Spike was his servant. Instinctively, Spike vamped out. He felt his fangs descend into his mouth and as Angel went for him, he pounced and sank his sharp teeth deep into the outstretched arm. Angel yelped in pain and lashed out, repeatedly whacking Spike against the coffee table. Spike grimly held on like a bulldog, teeth grinding harder as Angel's blood flowed into his mouth. Again and again Angel smashed him into the wood, but Spike refused to let go.
"Angel?" came Buffy's voice from the direction of the kitchen. "Are you all right?"
Angel immediately halted his attempts to batter Spike loose. He and Spike both froze, Spike still dangling from Angel's arm with his fangs firmly lodged in the tender flesh. "I'm fine, Buffy," Angel called back, wincing. "I just knocked something over."
"Okay," she yelled back. "I'll have your coffee ready in just a minute."
Not wanting to get caught in such a vulnerable position in case Buffy came back in less than the promised minute, Spike unclamped his jaws and dropped to the floor; Angel rubbed his arm and scowled. Cautiously, Spike returned to his "normal" face as he jumped back onto the couch where Buffy had left him. He wasn't feeling too great himself after this latest beating but he refused to show signs of weakness in front of Angel. "You might as well leave now 'cause I'm not going with you," he said firmly.
"I'm not going without you," Angel replied.
"Looks like we have a standoff, then," Spike pointed out. Which actually was a significant problem. Angel didn't want to budge, and neither did Spike. However, if both remained unwavering, Buffy would definitely discover the truth, and Spike didn't want to be around when she did. It looked like a compromise was a necessary evil. "Make you a deal," Spike offered. "I won't go this minute. Can't. But you give me one more day here and then I'll leave quietly. I just need a little more time."
Angel hesitated; Spike could see him weighing the pros and cons of the deal and hunting for any loopholes. Finally Angel nodded. "Fine. Tomorrow night, at sunset, be outside this house ready to leave. I'll send someone to pick you up."
Spike quickly considered. It seemed like a pretty fair offer. After all, he figured it was about time for him to go anyway. How much longer could he maintain his ruse? He'd already spent almost as much as time in Rome as he'd initially planned. The only tricky part of the matter would be sneaking away from the house without being spotted, but if he was cautious he could manage it. Buffy would probably blame Dawn for her puppet's absence. Dawn would, of course, know of her own innocence but she wouldn't be able to guess the truth. The mystery of the puppet would never be solved. It was all for the best.
"Tomorrow, sunset," he agreed.
Footsteps approached from the kitchen, effectively stopping future communications between the rivals. Spike returned to puppet guise as Dawn and Buffy returned with Angel's sandwich and coffee. The fact that he would soon be leaving weighed heavily on his mind, and he was able to derive only mild enjoyment from the sight of Angel struggling to consume the food and drink he hadn't wanted in the first place. Spike was only too aware that he might never see Buffy or Dawn again after tomorrow afternoon.
TBC