Chapter 3
Different People
A/N: As usual, sorry for the lateness… I'll not make excuses, you've heard them all before. Thank you ever so much for your patience! You're wonderful people, all of you!
okies, this chapter- few! It gave me some trouble for a while there! I'm hoping next chapter will be a bit easier to write, I think I'm through the rough spots.
I'm going to be introducing a few OCs in the next few chapters, just to get the plot moving… One of my new OC's you'll meet this chapter is Natasha. Her name is pronounced "nah-taah-sha" not "nat-A-sha" (do you get me? If not, don't worry )
I'm going to be mocking teenagers a bit from now on in, so if something seems a bit melodramatic, chances are I'm hamming it up on purpose.
And lastly, as always I would adore reviews, especially ones with a bit of constructive criticisms, to help me make the subsequent chapters more enjoyable for all you wonderful readers.
Edit: Whoops! I forgot vampire's don't have reflections... thanks for catching that you guys. Inmydefence, listen to the commentary for "waiting in the wings" Joss forgot too...Fixed now!
Spike was awoken in the early hours of the night by a horrible noise. The incessant chirping of the phone. "Bloody hell!" He moaned, "turn it off, I'm trying to sleep." The phone continued to ring, the noise resounding through the downy pillow Spike had pulled over his head. He groaned in exaggerated agony as the ringing continued. From his position on the couch in Angel's lounge room, Spike's vampiric hearing picked up the phone's yowling with painful clarity. The phone was just meters away on the coffee table.
Spike groaned, and grabbed blindly in the direction of those noise. He found the receiver and picked it up, stopping the noise. He tossed it to the floor, the plastic casing making an odd crunching noise. Spike sighed in relief. Silence at last. He enjoyed a few minutes of glorious calm, settling back into his pillow.
A strange crackling broke the renewed peace. The receiver, still off the hook and lying on the floor, was making noise. The crackling grew louder. Soon a voice could be heard. "Spike," the voice called "Spike!" it was Angel. "Pick up the phone Spike."
The young vampire sighed, and picked up the receiver, "What?" he asked tersely.
"It's late, Spike," Angel said, "I expected you up hours ago."
Spike looked over at the kitchen clock, "It's 6pm," he cried, "the night's barely started."
"I've been up since 10 this morning," Angel said.
"Why?" Spike asked, "So you could fry in the glow of the sunrise?"
"I had a meeting." Angel said. "We work with humans Spike, they don't keep late hours. And the sun rises at 5:30."
Spike made an annoyed noise. "What do you want me for anyway?"
"Wesley is coming to my office in half an hour," Angel explained, "to review your condition. I'd like you to be there."
"Aww why?" Spike groaned, "Can't Prince-Poncy-Pants just get one of his wizard books and magic me back to my big old self?"
"We don't know yet," Angel said, "That's why I need you to come up to the office. We don't have many leads on what happened to you, and with Dr Mordred still in the hospital…"
"and who's fault is that?" asked Spike, "Thanks a lot for bludgeoning our only lead into unconsciousness."
"I didn't have time to think of things like that, Spike," Angel snapped, "He was trying to kill you. All I could think was of protecting you, not protecting our leads. I just wanted to stop him. You were the only thing I was concentrating on."
Spike felt an uncomfortable knot forming in his stomach. "Um yeah, thanks for that." He said.
Angel sighed, "It was nothing." An awkward silence followed, as each vampire tried to ignore their conflicting emotions.
"So uh," Spike began again, uncertainly, "when did you want me to come over?"
"6:30," Angel said, "there's a bunch of clothes in a bag by the door, and I left you something to eat on the kitchen counter."
"Ok, I'll be there soonish," Spike said, and disconnected.
He pulled himself off the couch, rearranging his boxers as he got his bearings. He was back in Angel's apartment, a place he hadn't visited much in the last three months. It felt good to be back in a way, like coming home. But it was also unnerving.
He ran a hand though his hair on his way to the kitchen, separating the mussy platinum locks. There was a box of wheaties on the kitchen counter, with a note: "Blood is in the fridge." Spike was mildly surprised to find that Angel remembered how he liked his breakfast. He grabbed the blood roughly, suppressing a smile.
Angel sighed, setting down the receiver. Unbeknownst to his young vampire ward, that was the sixth time Angel had picked up the phone to call Spike. It was ironic really- a 240 something year old, afraid to call a teenager. But Angel was afraid. He was afraid of Spike, and afraid of having to look after him again. He was afraid of what would happen between them. Their relation ship was strained at best, Angel desperately didn't want things to snap. It was impossible to say what he felt for Spike, but this new problem could only complicate matters.
Pushing his brooding to the back of his mind, Angel picked up the phone, and dialled Wesley's number. "Wes, It's me." Angel said, when the ex watcher answered.
"Ah, Angel," Wesley said.
"How's the prophecy going?" asked the vampire.
"I'm looking for a nameless prophecy, from no particular era or prophet, in God knows what language," Wesley replied tersely, "but apart from that, it's going well."
"I know you don't have much to go on," Angel apologised, "Spike said that Dr Mordred wanted to kill him because of a prophecy, so he probably wants to stop Spike from doing something good… perhaps Spike has some role in an upcoming apocalypse? I'm sure it's a bit part, compared to my role obviously." Angel added.
"That doesn't really narrow things down," Wesley's said from the other end of the line, "There are several prophesies about you that we know of already, and many more we probably don't know of. I've asked for a general search for prophecies about any 'ensouled Vampires'. Prophesies are too vague for actual names, so there's not much point trying 'William the Bloody' let alone 'Spike'."
Angel leant back in his chair. "Ok, I see your point. It's just we need this information as soon as possible. I want Spike back to normal- fast."
"Angel," Wesley began carefully, "I know this is… difficult for you."
"Difficult isn't the word," Angel sighed. "I… I don't want to look at him. I don't want to see him like this. When he's an adult, he's the annoying Spike I can't stand, but when he's young… he's just a kid, he's my son." 'Son'. Connor. Angel closed his eyes, trying to block the memories.
"This is going to be hard for all of us." Wesley continued, comfort not the watchers strongpoint, "but Spike needs you now, and you must keep his best interests in mind."
Angel felt a sharp stab of rage as Wesley spoke. This was the man who had stolen his son. Connor had lived in a hell dimension all his life thanks to Wes. He quickly recovered though. He had forgiven Wes- he had to- that was in the past. No one even remembered it. Not even Connor. "I know," Angel said, "it's going to be an adjustment." He sighed, "can you come up to the office. Soonish?"
"I thought you wanted this prophecy," Wesley said.
"I… I do." Angel said, "It's just… I thought maybe you could take a look at Spike… I called him and asked him to come over at 6:30…" Angel wasn't going to admit to Wesley that he wanted an excuse to see Spike. It was embarrassing enough, he wasn't going to tell anyone else. But it was the only way Angel could think of to get Spike to come, and Angel needed to see him, and see he was safe.
There was a pause, before Wesley replied "I haven't really seen the full extent of his condition, and I would like Fred to run some tests, just in case she can find anything."
Angel sighed; thankful Wes had sensed Angel's anxiety and given the vampire the excuse he was hoping for. "Great, then I'll see you at six thirty."
For a 240 year old vampire, Spike thought to himself, Angel didn't have bad taste. The clothes Spike had found beside the door where pretty stylish, and clearly the latest L.A. fashion. They were entirely too nice for Angel to have chosen, after all he only ever wore black. He probably got Harmony to pick them out. She was young and usually well dressed. Spike's fuzzy memories pulled up images of pink and gold drapes and a multitude of sparkling unicorns that he seemed to remember Harmony choosing some time when they had lived together… maybe she didn't have the greatest taste.
His old black jeans still fit him well, so Spike threw them on with a new red t-shirt, emblazoned with a gothic punk upside-down pentacle in black cotton. He pulled on his boots and his duster. The perfect badass rebel, he thought. He decided he didn't need a shower, but his hair could do with something. There was plenty of hair gel in the bathroom, so Spike tasselled up his blond curls into punkishly awesome points. "What are you lookin' at?" He asked no one in particular, "huh kid? I'm a vampire, I am, and a strong one at that. So you better just keep outta my way."
As he stomped alone the corridor towards Angel's office, Spike swaggered a little, perpetuating his bad ass style. Or so he thought. Any observers would have thought he looked rather stupid. If anyone had been watching. But the high grey walkways of the evil Law firm were silent, lawyers and demons hard at work somewhere else in the building. Spike thought it was a rather boring place to live. He vaguely remembered being here as a little kid, three months ago. It had been boring as hell then.
"Nice coat"
Spike turned, to discover the apparently deserted corridor wasn't so deserted. Leaning against the wall beside him was a girl. She looked about his age, definitely mid teens. Her black hair fell in waves around her shoulders, just touching a fashionably collared shirt. Spike noticed with interest the tiny pleated skirt she was wearing and the knee high black boots. This girl was hot.
"Thanks," Spike said. He slipped into his 'suave' mode, reserved for wooing hot girls. "I haven't seen you around here before." He said.
She smiled a coy smile, "You obviously haven't been looking hard enough. I'm Natasha." She drew out the "a" in the middle.
"Spike," he said.
"That's an interesting name," she said, "why did your mother call you that?"
"She didn't," Spike said, "but that was a long time ago, and I got tired of my old name."
"Mothers are troublesome like that. Natasha's not my real name." Natasha said.
"What is?" Spike asked.
"Nu-uh," She chided, "you tell me yours and I might tell you mine."
"A name's a powerful thing," Spike said, "Maybe I don't trust you with mine."
"Maybe that's wise," Natasha said. She pushed herself gently away from the wall and walked slowly towards Spike. "I'm not to be trusted."
"Don't worry pet," Spike purred, "I don't trust easily."
Natasha pulled out a packet of cigarettes, taking one between her lips and fishing in a pocket for a lighter, "You're English," she said.
"I was once," Spike admitted, "I've been everything."
Natasha took a long breath in, before exhaling a plume of smoke. She held out the cigarette to Spike.
"Those things'll kill you," He said, taking the offered narcotic.
"Same to you," She replied.
"I don't have to worry about that any more," Spike said, passing it back, "I'm already dead."
Natasha laughed, "so says every angsty emo teen."
"Yeah, but most of them haven't seen their 100th birthday come and go." Spike reasoned, "I'm different."
"So I'm noticing."
"Do you want to know my secret?" Spike asked. He didn't wait Natasha for to consent, before he continued, "I'm a vampire."
Natasha slunk forward, pressing herself up against Spike. He could smell the sweet tang of human blood on her, but at the same time, he noticed she was cold. She leant in close to his neck, to whisper in his ear, "You're not the only one."
A door beside Natasha opened, shocking both the adolescents. Spike jumped backwards. Natasha regained her composure, just as a young blond girl appeared.
"We better go Taa," The girl said, "it's nearly half past six, I'm feeling kinda itchy. I don't wanna be out much longer."
"You're the one holding us up," Natasha said. She turned back to Spike and gave him a wink, "I'll see you later Spike." The girls headed back down the corridor Spike had come through.
Spike watched them go, before collapsing against the wall. "Wow," he breathed. "She was hot."
It took Spike longer then he expected to get to Angel's office. After his encounter with Natasha, he found it hard to think straight, or walk fast, so focused was his mind on anything but remembering the delicious way she smelt. He arrived twenty minutes late, to find Angel, Wesley and Fred, sitting around Angel's office, discussing things in dark tones.
"You can all stop muttering about me," Spike said, "Vampire hearing, I know what you've been saying." The three adults turned to regard the young vampire.
Wesley, seeing the recently young vampire for the first time since Spike had changed, caught his breath. "I had no idea…" he began.
"I know," Angel muttered.
The ex-watcher took a moment to soak in his acquaintances new appearance. The thin limbs, not yet filled out with a man's muscle; the boyish face; the spiked hair and of course, the young punk rock clothes. Spike had changed. In some ways, not that much, but it was still startling to see a boy where there had been a man.
"Right," The ex-watcher said regaining his cool, "well, Spike, we're here to see what's happened to you."
"I'm not a baby Wes," Spike said, "so don't talk to me like one. Hurry up and run your tests so I can go home, I was sleeping."
"Sit down Spike," Angel said, "and don't be rude."
Spike sound down with a grumble.
Fred hoped up hurriedly from her seat, giving Spike a shy smile. "I'm going to take a blood sample," She said, pulling out a syringe, "Is that alright? Then you can go."
"'S fine pet, but it won't be my blood you're getting. I think you'll get a nice porky sample of the pint I had for breakfast." Before he could protest, Fred had grabbed Spike's wrist and jabbed her syringe into the blue vein. "Ouch," He grunted.
"Sorry," Fred apologised. A thick red liquid swirled into the syringe as Fred began to extract Spike's blood. "This blood has already been ingested and converted by your body," She explained, "It's probably not what you had for breakfast at all, but more like what you had yesterday."
Spike blanched remembering his little blood-beer snack yesterday, and wondering if vampire's could have a blood-alcohol level, "uh, what are you going to do with it…?"
"I'll compare the DNA strands, look at the ageing of the cells…" She pulled the needle out and dabbed the small hole on Spike's wrist with a cotton wool ball. "Because this blood has already been refined by your body, there's the Demon's DNA in it too. So I can isolate the paternal strand from the recessive humans strands, compare it to the normal rate of development in a demon/human hybrid sample…" Fred paused, noticing Angel, Spike and even Wesley were all giving her blank stares… "Um… I'll run some tests." She said.
"When will you be done?" Angel asked nervously.
"Preliminary tests should be done in about 16 hours," Fred said, "so late afternoon tomorrow?"
"Monday afternoon?" Angel though, "fine, I'll clear my schedual. This is my most important case at the moment. Spike, I think you should hear the test results too… Spike?"
The younger vampire's eyes were focused vaguely on the filing cabinet across the room from him. There were two stakes sitting on top of it. He remembered playing pirates with those stakes. "Monday". He mouthed. Tomorrow would be Monday. There was something he had to remember about Monday… something he had promised to do… "Tilly." Spike said, suddenly standing up, "I promised I'd play with her tomorrow."
The adults looked shocked by his outburst. Wesley was the first to reply, "I don't know if that will still be possible." He said.
Spike looked confused, so Fred elaborated gently, "She doesn't know… about you… changing."
Spike furrowed his brow, a moment of absolute childishness overcoming him, "But, I'm like… her best friend. You can't just not tell her."
Wesley and Fred looked at each other, perpetuating the parental roles they already played. "He's right," Fred said, "She's going to be more upset if he doesn't come tomorrow."
Wesley relented, relaxing his gaze, "alright. We'll bring her over tomorrow afternoon."
The adults ignored Spike as they began discussing boring worky matters, like who had meeting, and who could collect Tilly. Spike lounged back on the couch. How would Tilly react? Surely she'd be ecstatic. Spike was a kid again… a bit older then her, but still… and little kids idolised teenagers.
As quickly as they had surfaced, Spike's thoughts of Tilly faded, as he once again mused over the seductive and mysterious Natasha. Another vampire. Another vampire his age. A gorgeous vampire, who had totally been flirting with him. Things were going to get interesting.