Disclaimer:

All characters from BtVS, Angel, and Charmed are the property of Joss Whedon and Aaron Spelling, respectively.

Summary:

AU Crossover between the Charmed and Buffy-verses. Angel, Buffy, and Spike are flying to San Francisco to see old friends.

Author's Note:

Please read and review.

Chapter 27 – Interlude on a Jet Plane

Angel hated planes. First, there was the noise. The mind-numbing, teeth-jarring noise. It was just unbearable. He supposed if he'd still been mortal it wouldn't be an issue. People seemed to be so oblivious of what there senses were telling them. Of course, that was one reason they were such easy prey. Second, on a plane, there was really no where to hide. You spent the whole time tense realizing how close you were to total spontaneous combustion. Not the way he wanted to go. No, he'd decided long ago that he'd prefer to be staked or beheaded if given a choice. Nice. Easy. Quick.

The sunlight was the reason he had decided to charter a private plane and leave after sunset. It should only take a few hours to fly from Toronto to San Francisco. They could do it completely within the night hours. No sunlight necessary. Perfect. He leaned his head back and tried not to notice the noise. This was a meeting he had to have. He'd been shocked when Buffy had come back from her trip to visit Willow a couple of months ago and told him the news. Xander was alive. Xander was an angel. God. The guilt he had over that boy was intense. It was a living thing. It was so much worse than the other torments to his soul. Xander had given up everything for him. For Buffy. It was still very raw, these feelings.

"What's wrong, mate?"

Angel turned at the whisper from his left. Thankfully, Spike was trying to be quiet, so as not to wake Buffy. Spike could actually be considerate if he tried hard enough. Being on a plane was bad enough, but being on a plane with The Annoying One was a true trial. Still. Willow and Spike were friends. And, for some reason unknown to God and man, Cole and Willow's children liked him. That wasn't the real reason that Angel had agreed to bring the irritating vampire along. No. That would be Nick, Angel's partner in Toronto. The poor man was a wit's edge. It was only a matter of time before he attacked Spike. Spike being Spike. If LaCroix, Nick's Sire, didn't do it first.

Angel rose silently and went to sit across from Spike. His grand-childe passed him a drink. Irish whiskey. The boy at least knew him. And whiskey was really the only way to survive this dreadful flight. He rose the glass. "Here's to the death of whoever invented the jet airplane."

"Bloody right." Spike rose his glass to Angel's toast. The great poof had always been too bloody easy to become irritated. He hated so many things. The music of the 20th Century (except for the Beatles and Barry Bloody Poofster Manilow). Computers. Military music. (Couldn't blame him there.) Smells. Angel had always been bloody intolerant when it came to the way people smelled. A nice delicate floral scent. Okay. Citrus. Okay. A woman's arousal or fear. Hell, yes. But anything even slightly overwhelming and the guy goes off. The only thing that irritated him more was sounds and vibrations. Of course, Spike had to agree that some of these things could just be written to the great poof being a vampire. An older and overbearing vampire. Angel might have a soul, but Angelus was still at his core. People forgot that. Spike never did.

Spike also realized something no one else seemed to. Angelus wasn't chained up. Nah. He was restricted. It was more like he was under house arrest. He hadn't realized it at first. He thought it had happened after Angel had come back after he had been sent to that hell by Buffy. He couldn't tell at first. Not in Sunnyhell. But in LA. There, he could. He never knew why---

"Are you still in there, boy?"

Ah. Yes. There's m'Sire. The stern and dominant tones of his Sire. He wondered if Buffy ever noticed. Maybe she did. He was pretty damn sure Angelus was a better lay than Soul-boy here. Not that he'd ever been screwed by the Soul. Still. You'd have to be pretty damn good to out-screw Angelus. "Just wondering what's really egging you, Peaches."

Angel bristled. He hated all the names. One of these days he would just have to re-establish his dominance with the boy. A little good old-fashioned torture should solve this problem. What he wouldn't do to hear Spike call him Sire in a nice submissive tone of voice. Or in a cry of pain and terror? He raised an eyebrow at his problem childe. Would anyone really miss him if I staked him before we landed? It shouldn't be too hard.

"C'mon, Angel. It can't just be this bloody awful whine." He reached for the bottle and poured himself and his bloody worthless Sire another serving of whiskey. Trust those bloody Micks to at least know how to do their liquor.

Angel closed his eyes in desperation as he took another sip. It's just too bad I can't get properly drunk on this. No. Just another disadvantage to being a vampire. Can't get drunk unless it's already in someone's blood stream when I drink it. He chuckled.

Spike froze at the sound of Angel's laughter. For some reason, the sound of an amused Angel (or Angelus) had always (and he did mean ALWAYS) terrified him. Probably because of the things that actually amused his grand-sire weren't laughing matters. They usually involved some kind of physical or psychological torment the old boy had devised. "Something amusing you?"

Angel's amused eyes bore into Spike's cool ones. Angel was gratified to see the fear behind Spike's eyes. It was nice to see that fear there, knowing that he'd placed it there. It had been too long. His demon reveled in the knowledge. "Nothing, laddie. Just rememberin' that time Darla fed on that heroin addict."

Spike chuckled. That HAD been funny. Darla complained for a week. You'd a thought she was dying. Drugs were always funny things to vampires. Dru was dead set against them. After feeding off that coke head in New York City that one time, she'd sworn off the whole thing. "Yeah. Still don't know why you didn't stake her to shut her up. Bloody hell! She was more annoying than me that time." He took another swig. "Now, you should try LSD. Bloody trip I had with that stuff."

"Ugh. Doesn't sound pleasant. Now someone reeking to the gills with brandy or whiskey. That's different. I suppose you're going to say you were at Woodstock."

"Well, it wasn't the bloody crucifixion!"

Angel and Spike laughed. They froze when they heard Buffy mumble as she turned in her sleep. Spike actually wasn't that upset that Angel had got her in the end. He'd always really known that he would. She belonged to HIM after all. They were mated. He wondered if Buffy knew about Angelus. Did she know that Angelus had claimed her, not Angel. Oh, no mistake. She was Angel's soul mate, Spike was sure of that. But, it wasn't the Soul that had marked her as his mate. Watching her sleep, Spike became aware of a keening. Hell! Just looking, Angelus! He turned back to Angel. "Sorry. Guess we're going to have to keep it down. Didn't know the Slayer was so tired."

Angel smirked and rolled his eyes. "Ah, well, she went out clubbing with the girls last night."

Angel and Spike exchanged an amused look at this. It was never ending source of amusement at this. Imagining the Slayer going out clubbing with two vampires and a very human pathologist was quite a vision. It still amazed Spike that Dru and Buffy seemed to get along. They actually went shopping together; although Buffy couldn't quite bring herself to issue an invitation to her home to Dru. He shook his head at the thought. "Still can't get me mind wrapped around that one, mate."

Angel chuckled softly, careful not to wake Buffy up. "No, it's a mystery. I was sure she'd have killed Dru before the year was out."

"So, what's really bothering you about this trip? And, stop stalling. I know ye, mate. Better'n Darla ever did."

Angel sighed. The problem was Spike was right. When he was a young fledgling, he followed him about everywhere. Spike may not have been the most discriminating of vampires. But, he was smart. He watched, he listened, and he learned. "Xander."

"Yeah, I know he's an annoying pup." Spike smiled slyly at Angel's upturned eyebrows. "Aye, even more annoying than me."

"Well, now he's an annoying angel. God. What were they thinking up There?" Angel shook his head in disbelief.

"Well, maybe he tried the patience of Saint Peter and they sent him down to get out of their hair. Still doesn't explain why you're so worked up." Spike looked at Angel, concerned. It was more than just Xander, he was sure of it.

"Just forget it." Ah! Now I'm getting somewhere! Cranky, broody sire is up! That means I'm getting close.

"Nah! You'll feel better if you talk about it."

"Hardly. At least not if I'm talking to you." Angel got up and went to sit next to Buffy again.

Hell! The damn poof isn't going to get away that easy. "Should I ask Xander about it when I see him?"

Angel twirled on Spike, his eyes narrowing. Uh-oh. That got his attention. The problem with goading Angel is that sometimes you could go so far. He loved irritating his sire, that was evident. But, he wasn't so sure about arousing the demon within. Angelus was one nasty piece of work. He didn't want to---

Angel had moved silently and quickly to Spike. One hand shot out and grasped Spike buy the shirtfront and pulled him up to eye level. The one thing that had always made Angel much more intimidating was his height. Spike suppressed a shudder as he looked his Sire in the eyes, his legs dangling helplessly below. Angel's eyes were flashing yellow, a sign of the violence hovering just below the surface. Spike had banked that Angel wouldn't attack him on the plane, especially not with---

WAAAHH! Angel and Spike turned suddenly at the wail coming from the seat beside Buffy. Angel softened at the sound as he threw Spike unceremoniously back in his seat. He went to bend down and comfort the child, but Buffy beat him to it. She glared at the two vampires as she picked up the baby, crooning at it. "Honestly, you two! You've got 400 years between you and you still act like you're high school juniors in a testosterone boxing match! --- Yes, sweetie, mama's here. Everything's all right. Daddy and Uncle Spike are just being idiots."

Angel looked at Spike sheepishly as he sat back in his chair by Buffy and the baby. "Sorry, baby." He crooned as he patted Buffy's thigh. He warmed as he felt her shiver at his touch, which had nothing to do with coolness of his hands. He caressed her, moving his hand up and down. He curled his hand around the inside of her thigh, tickling his fingers upwards over her sensitive skin.

"Stop that." Buffy demanded. It was hard enough to handle a baby. But when your husband is driving you mad? That's too much. "What were you two fighting about anyway. If you and Spike can't play nice, maybe we should've left him in Toronto."

"The problem was he won't play nice with Nick and LaCroix." Angel muttered.

Spike was quite amused at the whole thing. Angel a family man? Well, with a baby? That was ridiculous.

"Guess so. Don't know why you always have to be difficult Spike."

"Well, when you're good at something, Slayer."

She bristled. There was a time he called her Buffy. Or some other endearment. Now, he seemed nervous... almost afraid, really... of being her friend. She looked to Angel, he didn't seem to treat Spike any different. He was still irritated by him, but not to the point of hatred. "What were you two arguing about, anyway?"

Angel tensed. He didn't want to discuss it. Not now. Not ever. "Xander."

Buffy closed her eyes. She knew how Angel felt about this. Hell, she felt guilty too. But Angel was going to have to deal. They all were. "Honey, I don't think Xan wants you to feel bad about what happened. He was upset that me, Will, and Giles were feeling guilty. He thinks he made the right decision. He wants us to respect that."

Decision? Spike's curiosity was well and truly piqued. What decision could Xander have made that would have Angel all in knots? Now if it was Willow or Buffy he'd understand it. They could surely have made a decision that would upset Angel. But Xander? Anything he'd do wouldn't make Angel feel guilty, it might make him mad or frustrated but guilty? That made no sense at all. "What? What'd the kid do? C'mon, tell a bloke. I don't want to have to ask Willow or Giles."

"No!" Buffy and Angel cried out. The baby started crying anew. Buffy crooned some more in that unknown language that adults use when speaking to babies.

Angel got back up to sit across from Spike. If he was going to have to discuss this, he wanted a drink. He motioned to Spike for some whiskey. "Well, short story? Xander sacrificed himself to secure my soul."

Angel shot back the glass of whiskey as Spike looked at him in shock. Huh? Now that's ridiculous! "What the hell--"

"Spike!" Buffy cried in outrage, shooting out a leg to kick him in the shins. "Not in front of the baby!"

OOOOWW! Spike started to rub his leg where she had kicked it. Point One. Don't upset mommy – especially when mommy's a slayer. Big mistake. He looked over at Angel who smiling sympathetically at him, and shaking his head in commiseration.

"That's right, Spike. Remember, little ears." Angel chuckled as Spike snarled quietly at him. "Now, listen, about Xander. He sacrificed himself in some dark magic ritual to cement my soul. I know, I know. Xander? Still, he did it."

"And you being Soul-boy, brood overtime about it."

"He-- Heck, Spike." Spike nearly spat out his drink at the word heck coming out of Angel's mouth. The man was well and truly domesticated. "You'd feel guilty too, you just don't brood. You sulk. You just can't carry off brooding, let's face it."

Buffy giggled at that. That was true, actually. She'd never met anyone that could make brooding look so – hot! She looked down at the baby boy in her arms. Asleep. Good. The poor little guy. He's still getting used to us. She cradled the little bundle in her arms and looked down at his sleeping face. He actually looked a little like Angel. He was pale with a shock of dark, black hair. His eyes, when open, were a deep cobalt blue. Quite startling. He was going to break hearts, she was sure of it. He was their little miracle, their gift.

Buffy looked over at Angel. At least they'd stopped arguing. Now he was just nursing another whiskey. If he was human, she'd be worried about her husband being an alcoholic and a drunk. But she was worried. Ever since she'd told him about seeing Xander in San Francisco, he'd been brooding just a little bit more. She was worried what actually seeing Xander would do. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. Her old friend was quite a bit more mature now. You really couldn't be an immature angel, could you? Still, she wanted Angel to not spend the entire holiday blaming himself for the past.

Angel knew Buffy was thinking about him. He got up and sat next to her and the babe. He really was a remarkable child. He seemed so much more aware than Connor ever was at that age. He leaned his head down and began to nuzzle his wife's neck. Her scent wafted up from her warm skin. Mmmm... He closed his eyes and drifted off, his face in her neck, his arm about her shoulders.

Buffy smiled and nuzzled him in return.

Spike stretched his long form out as he watched the two little lovebirds. Ain't love grand?