Title: Admitting Series: Angel's Plan (3)
Author: Miz Thang
Characters/Pairing: Angel, Spike, Angel/Spike
Rating: FRM
Word Count: 1139
Warnings: Angst. Melodrama. Slash. Romance. Fluff

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the little story's idea. Everything else belongs to who it belongs to.
SummaryAngel won't admit any feelings for Spike. Spike admits that he can't act like Angel.

Author's Note: If you're tuning in after November 2, 2005, then you should know that I've combined the ficlets, so that there are four longer parts instead of eight supremely short ones. It just didn't sit well with me before. Each part has an Angel pov and a Spike pov. Enjoy! As of June 20, 2006, the story has been completely edited.

Angel's Plan

Fred sighs as she walks over to the door to Angel's office. She had caught up with Spike. There was an argument. She knows this much. Hell, the entire floor knows this much. And, as usual with an argument between Spike and Angel, Spike stormed out of the office, muttering about getting drunk. Then she watched as Angel slammed his door, locked it, closed the blinds, and then the disturbing notes of Barry Manilow floated to Fred, Gunn, Wesley, Lorne and Harmony.

So, Fred went to be the mediator, because no one else would do it, and the last thing they needed while in the belly of the beast was a fight, only she finds something she'd rather not have known. Spike and Angel had a sexual relationship. A secret one. And, like all secrets, it ruined things and come out into the open.

Luckily for her, the door isn't locked, but Barry Manilow is still singing about Mandy when she walks into the dark room. The sun has long ago set and the moon casts and eerie glow across the office the dark-haired vampire that is laid out on his hardwood desk, obviously miserable.

"Angel?"

"You went after him?" he asks, looking up at her. He picked up a sheet of paper, marked with unreadable text. "I made a list."

"He said he had all he could take, Angel."

"Of what?"

"If you don't know, then maybe it's good for me to leave."

"Of you. And whatever it is you're not telling him." Fred replies.

He looks at her for the longest time and, maybe to see if she's disapproving of his choices. But she isn't. Her face is open and she's truly trying to help everything be right again.

His face is pleading. "What am I supposed to do?" He asks.

"Well, for starters, you could try explaining to me why we missed something like this, something this big – why did you think it should be a secret?"

Angel's hands cover his face and he takes a large, unneeded breath. "Fred."

"Spike, just tell me why this is over."

"I already told you why. Because you don't even know. So, how 'bout you let go of me and bugger off."

"I… I love Spike. And I never told him. Maybe I needed to tell him? I don't know. I just know he isn't here. And that's my fault. He's not here because I wouldn't let myself tell him. I was afraid to admit that it was more than just falling back into bad habits, afraid to admit that he meant anything to me. So I lied, and I didn't tell him, didn't prove it to him… and lost him."

"But you want him back." Fred says, a small smile forming on her face.

"Yes."

Fred nods. "So, do you need help?"

Angel looks at her in surprise, but the look slowly gives way to that of a sly half-grin. With Fred's help, Angel was going to try to get Spike back.

-

Spike's miserable. He misses Angel. But he's not going to say so. He has to be strong because he's the dumper, not the dumpee. But still, despite all of this, he's miserable.

For once in his existence, he had the sense to end it first. And he should be glad, but he isn't. Not in the least bit.

"Why the long face?" Fred asks, taking a seat beside him in the conference room. There's a meeting and unfortunately for him, he has to be there. He has to because he's supposed to help Wesley out some project or another. Right across from a sleepless looking Angel. Great. At least Fred whispers her question.

"There is no long face." He mutters, intently looking at his fingernails and wondering for a moment why he doesn't paint them black anymore. He liked them black.

"Okay. No long face. So, uh, after this, you wanna go out maybe? Get a drink or two? Relax." Fred asks. She's trying to help Angel and Spike, and thank God that Spike isn't noticing. If he notices, everything is shot to hell and then he'll let himself be miserable forever.

"Not like I've got anything better to do." Spike replies with a shrug and then pretend to tune in to the meeting. But he can't. He spend the entire time wondering if Angel can't sleep without him anymore (because Spike can't sleep without Angel now), and then thinking that it's what Angel deserves (but missing him terribly because he's miserable and being worse off for it). And then he wonders why Angel isn't at least trying to win him back (maybe Angel really hadn't love him). And he feels hurt, and then angry (because he felt hurt). It's a cycle.

The meeting doesn't take as long as he'd thought it would – not that he notices because he watched Angel the entire duration, looking for signs – and he and Fred are on their way to the nearest bar. He would really love it if he could get pissed drunk once. Maybe that would get Angel's miserable-looking face out of his mind's eye. Or maybe he could forget about Angel completely.

"So, um…talked to Angel lately?" Fred ventures.

"Too busy avoiding him to have a conversation. On purpose." He adds for good measure.

"Caught that." Fred replies. Companionable silence ensues.

"And, besides," Spike starts. "What would I say? 'Are you miserable, because I hope you are even though I hope you aren't'?"

Fred doesn't reply to that, instead asking, "What would be your perfect night out?

"Getting plastered." He replies smartly. He doesn't want to given the question an actual answer. He's afraid he might make himself even more miserable, because he's been hoping for months about getting that kind of night from Angel. Good thing Angel proved to him just what they were to each other. Nothing. Absolutely, positively.

"Well, it you're not serious, I'll tell you mine. It'd have to Wesley as my date. Yes, Wesley." She says at the side glance Spike gives her. He shrugs and Fred continues, "We'd go to a nice restaurant. Pricey 'cause I think Wes can manage that. We'd dance and dine the night away and stop by a café on the way home for coffee and dessert. Then he'd take me home, trying to be the perfect gentlemen-which he of course is, when I pull him inside for – "

"Got your point, love." Spike says bitterly. Fred isn't making him feel any better, she notices almost immediately.

"So, share."

"No."

"Share." Fred insists. She grins. "I won't tell, I swear. Especially not Angel – because that's what you're worried about. Admit it."

Spike gives her a look and she instantly knows that he's going to tell her everything she needs to know to help Angel win him back.