A/N For those who wanted to know the pairings in this fic are A/S and A/Other. There will also be an OC in later chapters. Thanks for the feedback - it was greatly appreciated.

Chapter 7 – Choir Boys and Seraphim

"Bleedin' Hell Peaches that was bloody brilliant! I thought me dreams had come true when the Cheerleader here tore into Slutty, but that? That was genius! Did you see their faces? I could die a happy vamp right now – that was better than bagging a slayer! You must have a death wish mate!" Spike could barely get the words out as he was laughing and bouncing around like Tigger on a sugar high. He couldn't believe it. Someone had finally put the almighty Scoobies in their places. He felt like all his Christmases had come at once. Not only that, but Angelus was back! Ok, so he wasn't about to go out and start a massacre but he was here! And he wasn't sending Spike away! Ok so the Bitch was here too but she was just a mortal and the way that Angel had been with him earlier? Well, let's just say that life was looking up!

"Glad I have your approval Spike." Angel couldn't help but be amused at the way the hyperactive blond was taking all this. He was glad that Spike didn't seem to hate him for this but made a note of the fact that he was going to have to talk to him at some point. He wanted his friendship with the bleached idiot back. He wanted to be friends with Darla. He wanted a family again. Cordy, Gunn and Wes were a part of it, but he needed more.

"Umm Angel? Just a quick question. Why the hell have we brought the Evil Undead with us?" Cordy was not impressed. She had been impaled because of this bleached freak and she had seen what he had done to Angel. Why the hell was he invited to the celebration drinks? And what was that little display on the floor about? She'd always had her suspicions about men that dyed their hair and painted there nails but that had been too much information! She just hoped that he had no intentions of trying to corrupt Angel.

"He's here Cordy because I wouldn't submit even Lindsey to the fireworks that'll be going off in the hotel about now – unless you fancy learning how to use a dustpan and brush? Besides he's usually good for a laugh and I want to let loose this evening. Especially since I'll be facing the Inquisition when we get back."

"You've faced them before Angelus. I doubt that these children are a patch on the real thing."

"You haven't seen Buffy pissed Darla. Let's just say, it's not pretty."

They carried on walking down the street. The sun hadn't been down all that long so it was still warm out. The street was quite quiet and luckily there were few cars on the road. If there had been they would have had to go round Spike who was adamantly walking in the middle of the road.

"So Caritas then? You ain't singin are ya dawg? Cos if you are – I think I'll head back to the hotel cos that'd be less painful."

"Uh what you on about Charlie Boy? Why the hell would Peaches be singing and who do I hafta kill for lettin' 'im try?"

"I'll take it from that you have had the privilege of hearing Angel's dulcet tones then?"

"Sure have Percy and lemme tell ya – he ain't no Seraphim that's for sure."

"Well we can't all be good little choir boys can we Willie?"

"Sod off Wanker!"

"What? Spike was a choir boy? Oh that's better than getting to tell Buffy off!"

"Can it bint! I'm not a bleedin nancy – you get me!"

"Oh we have to get him sing – it'll be so entertaining. I can just see him giving a rousing rendition of YMCA or perhaps he will follow in your footsteps Angel and give us a little Manilow. I'm seeing Copacabana."

"I'm with you there Wes. Although, little Willie did like his hymns."

Spike growled at Angel, but he meant no malice. It was good to be bantering with someone again. Plus, these humans had backbone. They were his type of people. "Ok, enough with the tease Spike games Angelus. Where the bloody hell are we going?"

"We're going to a karaoke bar run by an anagogic demon called the Host. You sing and he reads you're soul. It's quite a fascinating talent really. And if the singing doesn't interest you, there's always the fact that he makes Bloody Mary's, with real blood."

"Basically it's an upscale version of Willie's." Angel translated Wesley's little speech. Sometimes the inner watcher broke through the reticent English façade.

"Why do demons go? We ain't got souls mate. Well except you…uh… I mean… You know what I meant." Spike hung his head and started fishing through his pockets for a cigarette.

Angel stopped. "Guys, go on ahead. Spike and I'll catch you up. Here," he pulled out his wallet, "Get the drinks in." They all shot Angel identical looks that read – 'He's an evil vampire, your human, you do the math' but Angel waved them off. He didn't notice the dirty look that Darla shot him, but Spike did. He merely shrugged his shoulders and cocked an eyebrow. The look she returned would have the devil running for cover. Cordy snatched the wallet and the quartet set off down the street. Angel scuffed his boot on the sidewalk. Now he had a chance to talk, he didn't know what to say.

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't start broodin' bout this yeah. It's done. No goin' back now. Just have to accept it an' move on."

"That's it?"

"What else is there to say?"

"You could scream and shout at me. That's how we usually do this. I know violence is out but… do something!"

Spike lit a cigarette and started to smoke languidly. He watched Angel closely. He quickly realised that Angel was lost. He didn't know what to do or how to act. He was so used to being the brooding bastard that was riddled with guilt that he wasn't used to being free. He needed Spike to be angry at him because then he could feel validated about trying to enjoy himself. Spike wasn't sure whether or not Angel actually was happy. He seemed to be just reacting to everything as he went. Truth was, Spike was angry, he was furious but at the same time he wasn't.

"What the bloody hell do you want me to do? All I could do is scream and shout cos you gave up my Sire for that fuckin' bitch! It was always Darla that came first for you! She clicked her fingers and you went droolin' after her! You never noticed me or Dru – it was always her! Is that what you want to hear? That I hate you for abandoning me again? That if I didn't have this bloody bit of tin in me head I'd 'av been beatin you to a bloody pulp by now an' fucked you into oblivion. Then I'd turn you? Is that what you wanna hear? 'Cos I've said it now Peaches. Does it make ya feel better for tryin' to get on with your life?"

"I don't know Spike, I just don't know."

Angel sat down on the edge of the sidewalk and Spike noticed that he was playing with his claddagh ring. He had to know…

"'S that the ring ya got… ya know… before…"

"Yes, Spike. This is the ring you got me. Haven't taken it off since I got it. Feels like a part of me now. It doesn't feel right if I don't wear it. It's my link to the past. A little piece of home."

Spike saw the desperate look in Angel's eyes and decided to throw him a bone.

"Yeah… I am angry and hurt and pissed beyond belief. But at the same time… gotta say it's good to have Angelus back. I mean in the not sendin' the world to hell in a hand basket version. He's the real you ain't he? I mean the demon makes 'im evil, the soul makes him a broody ponce but the smart mouthed, fun lovin' devil is the real you. It's good to see that again – I missed it. Missed you."

The quiet tone of Spike's voice and the subtle infection of his natural accent gave Angel hope that not all was lost. But he needed Spike to realise that this wasn't going to be easy. Spike was right, he was Angelus, but he wasn't sure if that was all he was and he wasn't comfortable with the idea. After hating the demon for a hundred years it was difficult to accept that that was who he was. No matter how much it was simplified it wasn't as easy as that in his head. He ran his hands over his face and looked back at Spike. Naturally, his voice became coloured and tainted with an Irish lilt that displayed the depth of the confusion in his mind.

"I don't know. It's just too hard. If this is the real me, then I've been living a lie for a hundred years. I guess it's going to take some time to work this out. But I want us to be friends again.

They, my other friends, don't know me. They know the 'broody ponce'. They don't trust me round Darla. Buffy and the Sunnydale lot were never really friends. Buffy and I were just lovers; there was nothing to build on. But you? You were the closest thing that I ever had to a friend. You could read me, Angelus, like a book, better than Darla could. I think that I'm going to need that. I don't know who I am. I have people expecting me to act one way and I need someone who can accept that I might not act that way.

I need you in my life. I need all the friends I can get. I've just lost everything that I had and knew and it's going to take a while to sort my head out. Think we can try to be friends though?"

Spike couldn't help but swell with pride at the implications in that little heart felt speech. He decided that it was best to keep his answer light so as to prevent any excess brooding that may ruin the evening. Shrugging his shoulders he sat down next to Angel and nudged him in the ribs with his elbow.

"Sure we can Peaches, especially if it pisses Slutty off. 'M always up for a little Slayer baitin'. After that little show I'd say it looks like you're wantin' to join the club?" He cocked an eyebrow and pulled his mouth into a little pout.

"Let's just say that I am sick of their holier than thou crap. They aren't the only ones who save the world. She's changed or I was blind before. I never thought that she was so self-centred. But be careful though, I don't want to have to watch your ashes blowing in the wind. I dusted Darla for her and vowed there and then I wouldn't kill any more of my family for her. If they came after me though… well that's another matter."

"So that's why you never came after me and Dru in SunnyHell. You had to know where we were… Never realised that you were stayin away on purpose. And the secrets keep on comin. Huh. Ya thinkin you're gonna tell me whether the Slayer was a decent shag mate? Cos that's one thing 've never done an' 'm thinkin' that it could be fun!"

"We'd better catch the others up – they'll get worried." Angel got up, brushed himself down and started to head towards the club.

"Oi! Peaches! Why aren't you answerin'? Hey! If you don't answer 'm gonna have ta come up wiv me own opinions… oh! She wasn't any good was she? I don't believe it… Slutty isn't livin up to her name!"

"Drop it Spike, just drop it." Angel yanked the door to Caritas open. Before he went inside he turned back to the vampire following him and smirked. "Be good and I may give you some vicarious details later on though." Then he was gone.

Spike paused to finish his cigarette. He couldn't help but grin. 'So Peaches wants to be friends does he? Think I can handle that. Jus' gotta wait and I'll 'av 'im back. An' this time? There'll be no Ice Bitch, no Slutty and no Princess. Its jus' gonna be me an' him. Can't wait!' He flicked the glowing butt away and swaggered into the club.

Spike couldn't believe that Angel was sat in this garish club drinking drinks with a little umbrella in it. Even when Angel ordered a normal drink like a whisky shot or a bottled beer an umbrella found its way into it. Not only that, but he was loving some of the stories that were coming out. Wesley's description of Angel in a pink motor cycle helmet was a particular favourite. He could just picture it. The Host also seemed like a decent chap. Spike wasn't sure that he appreciated being called Blondie as it brought up disturbing memories of Harmony. He also didn't like the library of pet names that Greenie (as Blondie had decided to call him) had for Peaches. He was the only one allowed to have affectionate nicknames for the Ponce. Yet his momentary discomfort was well worth the cringes that Angel shot when "Angelcakes" or "Cinnamon Buns" was called at him from across the club. The cringing became abject horror when Princess and Charlie started to call him "Strudel".

For most of the night they pestered him to sing, especially when Angel gave them a brief recounting of the time that he found out that Spike could sing. This tale lost him all credibility as the Big Bad. Angelus had caught William in a deserted church just outside Whitechapel after a hunt. William hadn't noticed his presence and had sang "Sanctify my Soul" and "The Lord's Prayer" (the only ones he knew off by heart) all the way through before Angelus had revealed himself by a long drawn out round of applause. He thought that he was in for the beating of his life but Angelus had just shook his head, laughed and then escorted William home. He did however, bring it up each and every opportune (and utterly embarrassing) time he could. Spike felt the need to retaliate and told the anti-Scoobies about the time that one of Drusilla's tantrums had forced Angelus into joining in one of her tea parties. He'd had to dress properly for it as well. Angel was quick to point out that Spike was present at the tea party as well and had had to escort Miss Edith to her seat, as though he were her companion.

He was really enjoying himself for the first time in over two years and he almost felt as though he was accepted into the tightly knit group. Much to his disappointment though, Cordelia dragged the AI team out on to the dance floor and he was left with the Ice Bitch. Angel had warned him not to tell Darla about the chip, she wasn't above killing a defenceless creature. Especially when said creature was Spike. He quietly sipped his drink not wanting to get involved in talking to her at all. He kept his eyes focused on the dance floor where they seemed to be having a ball, despite the fact that Watcher Jnr's dancing resembled something between the 'Birdie Song' and an epileptic fit. His peace didn't last long.

"It won't work you know. You're little plot."

"Don't rightly know what you're on about… bitch."

"I've been watching you all night sweet William and all you've been doing is watching him. It's pathetic really. One hundred years later and you're still panting after him. That one night turned you're head and you're itching to get it back. But, sweetie? You'll never have him back. He's human now – why would he want you?"

Spike swallowed the bitter truth that these words held with a shot of Jack. He was not going to let that bitch see that he was affected. Instead he just turned and sneered at her. "Seems to me that someone's scared of the competition. Well ya know what I say? Bring it on bitch. I almost had him before an' I definitely had 'im tonight. I'd say you're worried that you're gonna lose him, and you'd be right. 'M playin' this game ta win Darla. An' I will – I always get what I want."

His blue eyes flickered gold and then turned back to an icy blue. He refused to release her gaze. He just continued to drink his drink and stare her down. Eventually she let a small smile appear and fear clenched at his gut. He'd seen that smile a thousand times before and it always meant trouble. She extended her hand and ran her fingers lazily over his hand and then over the top of his glass and around the rim. Not once did she allow the eye contact to falter. She withdrew her hand.

"I propose a deal sweet William…"

"It's Spike, Granny"

"Whatever. We both know that little Buff will want him back. You know that I want him and I've always known your dirty little wants. So I propose a truce."

"What!" This was not how the game was played.

"I'm not going to say that I won't fight tooth and nail to get him back but I don't want to lose him all together. At the moment he's lost. He doesn't know who he is or what he wants. If we start fighting – he won't cope and we'll both lose. Then that little girl will swoop in and she'll win."

"Get to the bloody point luv. I might not be gettin any older but you are. I can see the wrinkles already. Spit it out."

"Look at him. He's laughing and dancing and having fun with his friends. That's the way in – be a friend to him. If we don't fight, we stand a better chance of coming out on top. I'd rather lose him to you than to that stuck up little madam. What do you say Will? We'd make a great team. Winner takes all."

Spike thought about it. She was right. Angel wouldn't choose one over the other. Angel wanted friends; he wanted a love that grew out of friendship rather than blood and passion. Isn't that what Angel'd told him? The Slayer and he hadn't been friends, just lovers and they hadn't survived. But did he trust Darla to play fair? Usually he would have said no, no way, no chance, and followed those up with a resounding never. But he sensed something different in this Darla. This Darla… this Darla had a soul. This was a totally different creature and she seemed to care. She loved him.

"Ok pet. We'll do it your way. We call a truce and stop Slutty getting her claws into him. But you have to play fair here Darla. No tricks, no schemes and no badmouthing the opposition. Got me? We both want the same thing and we only get it if Angel is happy. 'M in."

"Good. Let the games begin."

Spike grinned. Downing his drink and went to put his plan into action. Seduction. Angelus had been the master and Spike had learned well. It was time for the student to become the teacher. He went up to the stage to select a song. Picking Nine Inch Nail's 'Starfuckers, Inc' he proceeded to bring the house down. In his head he aimed the song at Angel, but the big ape didn't seem to get that. Although his head had spun round so fast on the line "and when I suck you off not a drop will go to waste" that Spike thought it would come off his neck, that perhaps Angel wasn't as clueless as Spike had imagined. He could tell Darla understood his meaning though. However, she seemed to be amused by his tactics. So engrossed with his game, he failed to notice the red eyes of the Host watching him with avid interest.

A few hours, several badly sung songs, more tales about Angel's exploits (which were now including appropriate pre-soul tales) and a fair quantity of alcohol later and the group, with the addition of the colourful presence of the Host decided to head back to the hotel. They stopped off en-route to pick up snacks, more alcohol and take away. It was therefore a very merry group that stumbled back into the hotel to face the firing squad.

"We need to talk." Buffy was definitely not amused.