Title: That Damn Happiness Clause
Writer: Azure K Mello
Disclaimer- I don't own the shoes I'm currently dancing in what's the likelihood I own anything in Joss' universe? I own the original novels. . . I bought them in Borders, and I own the DVDs. I don't however make money off of this I just seem to spend a lot on it. I in no way intend to infringe copyrights. I'm just entertaining myself, honestly, I'm shocked that anyone's read it. Nor do I own Franken Berry in any other way than that I have a box of it in my kitchen. And I certainly don't own the fifties.
Setting: Hero, some conversation is mangled out of said ep. Keep in mind that I am a strong believer in the fact that one little thing can change the course of history, hence cannon gets meddled with because life took a different path. .
Warning: SLASH Angel/Doyle. Spike/Xander. Don't like, don't read, don't flame. V. little happens in this chapter it's all build up.
Thanks to: Poison for being the fastest Beta I've ever had! And Isaly for getting out of my hair so I would have some time to write.
Section rating: R
Part 12/?
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"I'm the Dark Avenger?" said Angel disbelievingly as Cordelia told him her idea for a commercial.
"I know, it's perfect! We can do it ourselves on High 8. I'll charm a post-production house into doing the effects and. . ." Angel got up giving her a blank look. "Look, I know a little something about self- promotion, Angel, and I'm telling you one commercial like this could get us out of the red - or the black - or which ever one means we're broke, because that's us." Angel ignored her as he walked into the elevator, "So what? Buffy blows into to town and puts you into a permanent funk and I'm just supposed to stand by and watch our business go belly up?"
"He's not entirely wrong, you know? Look, all I'm saying is advertising a superhero that can't really go out in the daylight might raise vampire suspicions, not to mention our pesky lack of an investigator's license."
"And who needs a license when we have no clients?"
"We'll manage, princess. We always do."
"We will if we project the right image. And now I'm suddenly thinking that Angel is all wrong for this commercial! He is a larger-than- life character, way to Braveheart for Joe-Couch-potato to relate to. We need someone who's - average," she turned and looked at Xander, "run of the mill, ordinary." She smiled widely. "You're perfect."
"Fuck off, Cordelia." Said Spike with a smile. "He's anything but ordinary and he's not lowering himself to this level." Xander said nothing but smirked at his protective lover.
"Doyle, Come over here into the light, and let's see if we can create some cheekbones."
"Cordelia, I'm not the photogenic type. Plus I get dry mouth.'
"Excuse me?" she said in that perfect cold Queen C drawl. "This is not a negotiation. This is a necessity. Our boss, your boyfriend, is in a funk. You *know* that he's only happy when he's fighting evil. Now let's drum up some!"
"There are *other* things that make Angel happy." Said Spike helpfully while leering at Doyle.
"I don't know what we need evil for when we got you right here." Cordelia walked out. "And her. We're already over run."
"I heard that!" called Cor. As she walked back into the room she said thoughtfully. "Maybe if we get him a costume!"
"A costume?" sneered Xander.
"Well, the guy is a bona fide hero, would it kill him to put on some tights and a cape and garner us some free publicity?"
"I don't see Angel putting on some tights. . . Ah, now I do, and it's really . . . It could work for him."
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"Hey." said Doyle, "Is this a private catharsis or can anyone watch?" he said as he watched Angel pummeling a punching bag
"What do you want?" Said Angel coldly.
"Well, there's a girl upstairs who's not quite sad enough to cry in may arms, but keep up the dark cloud. I might get lucky."
Angel looked up and fell into a normal stance. "I'm sorry."
"Is this about Buffy?" said Doyle softly.
Angel roared with laughter. Tears fell out of his eyes as he tried desperately to get air into his long dead lungs. "You think this is about Buffy? Jesus, you and Xander should start a club for guys who don't realize their own worth."
"This moroseness is caused by me?"
"Doyle. . . do you know how much I love you? I want you so badly. And I don't mean physically. Vampires, we're very tactile creatures, I think it's because we're so like cats. But we need to be owned and to own. I had to come down here because I can't bear looking at Xander and Spike. Because I want that so badly. And I know that it's way too much to ask of you to commit yourself to me for forever. We haven't even been together for that long. And I know you probably hate me for putting this on you. Because now you're gonna feel like an arsehole when you say no. I didn't tell you this to pressure you into it. I just told you because I love you too much to keep it from you. Now I'll shut up and you can forget I've said any of this. Why are you smiling?" Doyle reached above their heads and pulled harshly on the hook holding up the punching bag. The force cut his finger deeply. He held the wounded Digit up to Angel. "Wait, wait. Are you sure."
"I'm offering myself to ye fer eternity and ye're askin' if I'm sure? After that little speech I think it would be rude to deny me what I've wanted fer so long."
"Are you just saying that to make me feel better."
"Angel man, Xander and I'll start the club but you have to be our charter member." He said as he placed the digit on Angel's lower lip. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"If you need help. Then look no further. Angel Investigations is the best! - Our rats are low." Said Spike with a smirk.
"Our rates!"
Spike smirked and pointed at the signs behind her. "It says 'rats'. I'm saying what you said. - Our rates are low, but our standards are high." He said throwing his arm up in the air like a superhero. "When the chips are down, and you're at the end of your rope you need someone that you can count on. And that's what you'll find here - someone that will go all the way, no matter what. And we're very discreet." He said winking. "So don't lose hope. Come on over to our offices and you'll see that there's still heroes in this world."
Cordelia sighed. "I think that won't work."
Doyle smiled at them as they stepped out of the elevator. "I don't know. I think people will be pouring in as soon as they hear about our low rats. Why did you do it in the first place, Spike?"
"She promised to stop whining." Said Xander who was reading a book. He looked Cordy up and down. "I don't think it'll happen." He said with a smile as he smirked over at Doyle then it hit him like a brick to the face. "It's about damn time. If I had sat around in this cloud of angst any longer I would have asphyxiated. That's a Spike word." He added to himself.
Spike smiled at Xander and said. "Commo, Cor, we're gonna go get some dinner and call it a night." He kissed Doyle's cheek as he walked by and scowled when Angel gave him a "we're such a happy family" smile.
Xander pulled Angel into a hug and smiled at Doyle. "Congrats. Call us if you need us." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Pacey, just tell the girl you love her!" screamed Spike sitting on the couch naked, eating a bowl of cereal.
Xander looked up from the book he was reading. "Why do you watch this? Here's what will happen: Pacey gets the girl. Dawson becomes rich and famous and that Andy girl will die."
Groaning, Spike turned off the TV. "Thanks a lot, pet. Why have you been reading so much as of late?" he said in an angry voice.
"Just because I didn't go to college it doesn't mean I won't further my education."
"Are you sure you didn't just see the title and think it was porn? Of Human Bondage?"
Xander just rolled his eyes and dog-eared his page. "Spike, do you trust me?"
"There are handcuffs in the left bedside table if that's what you're getting at." Said Spike with an appreciative leer at his husband's near-naked body.
He looked thoughtful for a moment as though weighing the choices. "Maybe later. I just meant do you trust me in general?"
"Of course I do, pet. You know that right, Xander?" said Spike suddenly worried about the boy's ego. "What is it? You can tell me anything?"
"It's nothing big. Stop wigging. It's just I want to redecorate the apartment. And I want you out while I'm doing it. Consider it a surprise. I just can't deal with the vibes of this place. It's like our "furnished" apartment was, at late, the home of an old couple who sold everything off bit by bit to pay for prescription medication. It's really fucking depressing."
"I hate you." Said Spike. He saw the look of hurt on Xander's face and instantly amended his statement. "Why do you get the tongue of a poet? I'm the supposed poet."
"You're the published poet." Reminded Xander. "So was that a yes?"
"Why not? I don't live here." The joke was cheep.
"It's a good thing I'm 19 or else I'd find your humor juvenile." Said Xander with a smile as he went to sit next to Spike. "Are you sure you're ok with this?"
"Just so long as you promise no kinetic art. Look, Xand, ya know how I always make fun of you for saying "home"?"
Nodding Xander said in a poor imitation of his lover, "Crass Americanism."
"Yes, well. You are home." Xander nodded looking confused. "No, not as in: you are here with a big arrow. I mean, you're *my* home. We could live in a total hole and I would be happy."
"We do live in a total hole." Said Xander waving a hand at the empty 50's pre-fab apartment.
"Exactly, so if it's as ugly as a soght demon after a rainstorm, I probably won't even notice. No kinetic art. Oh and if you can do this I get to buy you a new wardrobe."
Xander thought about it. "Fine but Cordy has to be consulted on at least 70 percent of it. Deal? Good. Go to work now 'cause a truck full of stuff will be here in twenty minutes. And take Cordy dancing tonight because the paint'll need time to dry."
"What would you have done if I had said no?"
"Pouted and bribed you with sex."
"To bribe you would have actually had to withheld it."
Confusion broke over Xander's face. "That's a good point I never thought of that." he put a spoonful of Spike's cereal in his mouth. Suddenly it dawned on him. The cereal was not Franken Berry or any other type that would dye the milk red. Nor would a red dyed cereal taste so strongly of iron. "Please don't tell me I'm drinking blood." His words were muffled for he would not swallow.
"Ok." Replied Spike.
"I'm drinking blood aren't I?"
"A little, yeah. We only had whole milk and I don't like the taste of whole milk so I used some to mask it." Xander grimaced as he swallowed gagging at the taste. Smirking Spike pulled the boy into his lap and licked the inside of his mouth clean.
"Why is your blood not like that?"
"Why is my blood a nummy treat while that disgusts you? Well my blood isn't really blood. It looks, smells, and tastes sort of like blood. Just like your body changes what you eat into tuff you need, mine does too. It's not like I have hollow fangs that pull blood into my veins. I drink it goes to my stomach. We drink blood because it's life. To survive the way we do we need to leech off the living, literally. And what finally gets into my bloodstream is power and life and all those delicious emotions. Some blood is always in us and doesn't get washed away and as we get older our own power and strength gets held in that blood. I'm a master, Xan, of course my blood is amazing." He bit his tongue and kissed Xander, plundering his mouth and filling the cavern with blood.
"Why doesn't this turn me?" He panted.
"Well. . . ya know how I said that this connection is purely based in the mind? Um, just as an example, if you believed that my name would appear branded on your ass it would. Say 'ello to the power of suggestion. What stops you from being turned is my will. I won't let you be turned, I don't believe it can happen, so it can't. No matter how much blood got exchanged. And just say another vampire tried to turn you it wouldn't work. You would sick up their blood and then you would lay there a bloodless animated corpse until I got there and fed you some of mine. My blood is your blood now. It can't hurt you because it's already ingrained in you. Hence the fact Angel is pulling the father act because his blood views you as his childe as surly as it views me. I better go pull on clothes and leave so I don't ruin the surprise for you. What should I tell Angel."
"He knows: who do you think sponsored this little endeavor?"
Spike smirked as he disentangled himself for the boy and went on a search for clothing. He opened the closet and called over his shoulder. "And if you get any time today would you throw away all of the clothes in here? You can save what you have emotional feelings for, otherwise chuck it out." He came back into the living room pulling a shirt on over his head. "Don't you dare save things that you think are salvageable. Everything goes, socks and underwear: all of it. Cordelia is going to have a ball with Peach's credit card." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Angelus, spill it." Said Spike walking into the office.
"Good morning, Will. And I'm sorry I can't. I promised Xander I wouldn't."
"Since when do you keep promises."
"He's already told me what he'll do if I tell you and suffice to say, I'm rather attached to my liver. I mean some of the stuff he said . . . well even as Angelus I never would have thought of some of this shit."
"Fuck you, I'll do worse." He saw that Angel wasn't about to give in. "Just answer me this: will I be able to live in it?"
"You weren't a punk until the seventies. Of course before that you were just a punk waiting for the word to be invented. . . I don't know. You'll be able to live in it. I think it's cool in an intrinsic dorky kind of a manner."
"It's going to be less bland than it is now but will it be more kitsch and crass?"
"No actually the plan is to make it more kitsch." Said Angel dryly. "What do you think, Spike?"
"Fine. May I have your credit card. Cordy and I need to go shopping."
Cordelia was already grabbing her handbag. "What are you buying?" asked Angel skeptically. "Last time I let Cor have the credit card they thought it had been stolen dew to the amount put on it in four hours."
"He was allowed to do the apartment if he promised no kinetic art and that I could get him a new wardrobe."
"That's good." Said Angel contemplatively. "No childe of mine should be dressed the way he is."
Spike rolled his eyes. "How typical, you think of how it reflects on *you*!" Angel handed him the small piece of plastic.
"Please keep it to four digits." Said Angel pleadingly as they walked out he picked up the phone with a sigh. "Hi. My name is Liam Angel . . . My mother's name? Darla. . . Yes, a few weeks ago there was a sudden influx of use on my card and you thought it was stolen . . . Well I just sent my kids out with it so within the next twelve hours expect just under 10,000 dollars to be put on it. . . thank-you."
Doyle just smiled at him as Angel rubbed his forehead. "Ye're such a good dad." Angel gave him a look. Doyle smirked. "And ye were worried about the heating bill. Wanta help me move all the stuff out of me apartment before tellin' the super tha' I'm gone?"
They were walking back through the sewers ten hours later when Doyle dropped a box. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At ten that night a knock came on the door. A bleary eyed Xander opened the door only partially. He was wrapped in nothing but a black bed sheet. Smiling he saw Spike on the other side. "You knocked?"
"Well I wasn't sure if I was allowed in."
"You are on the condition that you don't throw me up against a wall. They're still wet."
"Why would I. . . " his words trailed off when Xander fully opened the door and he saw what the youth wasn't wearing, his nonexistent breath caught in his throat. "My very own Grecian god complete with black toga."
"You make me sound like an action figure. Stop gawking at me and look at the damn room." Said Xander sternly but a smile played around his eyes.
Spike looked up and saw the living room they were standing in. "Holy Fuck! Angel wouldn't tell me anything because you scared him and I asked if it was going to be kitsch he was all sarcastic and said yes. He wasn't lying."
"Well I figured," Said Xander as he stood behind the blond he put his arms around his waist and hooked his head over Spike's shoulders, "that we have an ugly fifties apartment and there was nothing we could do to mask it. But what we could do was heighten it to a point wherein it was beyond crass and had become a cool parody of itself."
The whole apartment was completely decked out in fifties and sixties furniture and colours lime green and puce were sided right along with that robin blue. There was an old green Westly House radio set in the corner, the four unit long set up had speakers and a vinyl player, tape deck, an eight-track, and radio with two empty cupboards at the end.. A TV complete with bunny ears antae was sitting on a Formica table that was complete down to the splayed, tapered, metal legs. On the walls there were huge blown up versions of old magazine adds. On featured Spike's pride and joy: The '57 Fire Dome * by DeSoto. It featured a woman in a hat saying that the power steering made it so that even women could drive it! There were advertisements for Keds- the footwear of tomorrow, and the "new" Kitchenaid mixer, and Marilyn. The couch was bright blue and low to the ground it was boxy with wooden splayed legs. A chair next to it looked like it was straight out of the Jettison's. In front of them was a glass and mirror topped coffee table: kidney shaped of course, with a tin of Lucky Strikes on it next to a huge ceramic ashtray. There was a bar in the corner with a Formica top just waiting for cocktail hour and it was accompanied by white high-backed stools. All this was situated atop a huge black rug decorated with harsh geometrical shapes.
Spike gapped at everything. "This is so odd. Angel told me to say I liked it if I hated it; I practiced my look of joy for if it was really ugly: I'm to shocked to do it now."
"Good shocked?"
"This is so odd. Angel described it as cool in an intrinsically cool way, or maybe it was the other way around, whatever it was he was right. Where did you get all this?"
"Down in the antique district in the only store to admit that it was junk and not antiques. Do you like it?"
"I fucking love it. I'm just not sure I can live here." Xander pulled him past the kitchen which was complete with a kidney shaped table that had a swirlly pattern of puce and blue squiggles and matching metal chairs that had vinyl seat cushions and backs. There was an old stove and oven, a large toaster oven, and an old refrigerator. There was black and white china and coloured Pyrex with etched in sun bursts.
He pulled him into the bedroom. "Believe it or not I prepared for you saying that." He said as he opened the innocuous door that had the Marlboro Man posted on it in life sizes. Behind the door was Spike's haven from the odd apartment though, quite frankly, it was odder. Painted in a dark (almost black) red, with a black bed frame for a king sized bed which was covered in black bedding. The lighting was provided by long, cylindrical, bright white. neon bulbs lining the wall against the hardwood mahogany floor. There was another one across the top of the bed for reading. In the corner there was a large TV. "I figured you'd freak if you couldn't see Pacey's newest hairdo in full colour. Oh, and I cheated. In the Westly House set up hidden behind the doors is our old TV and a CD player and the DVD player and our phone: I'm no good at the rotor dial. And I redid the bathroom." He said nodding to the door, "It's all black and green." There were huge bookcases already lined with most of their books including their two complete sets of The Tales Of The City series and three books of Spike's published works. "You like?"
"Ho-ly Christ, Xander. Do I like it? I feel like Barbie in the fucking Dream House!"
"That's nice." Said Cordy from the door. "I need you to help me bring up bags." She said placing four down on the floor. "You'll never guess, Xan, Angel called the credit card company and put a limit on it. We had to leave DOLCI & GABBANNA, I've never been more mortified."
"Stingy! I mean hell he only paid to totally rehaul this place, in a day no less I *only* hade ten guys helping me." He said sarcastically, he felt like he was taking Angel for a ride. He knew the man wanted to help them, wanted them to be happy, but was this a bit much? "So what was the limit?"
"Ten thou'. Can you believe that?"
Xander went ashen. "You spent the thousand dollars on me?!?! Why?"
"You needed a new wardrobe." Said Cordy simply.
"Do you realize that I've never had any clothes that weren't Kmart, Salvation Army, or handed down? There was no need to-"
"That's exactly why we spent it. It's high time you had some nice clothes." Said Spike softly.
"Nice yes, ten thousand nice, no. Angel's going to be livid."
"No he won't he would have set the limit way lower if he hadn't wanted us to spend it. He let the two of us out with his plastic he knew what was going to happen."
"Besides we didn't spend it all on you." Spike was into full on pacification mode.
"Ya didn't?" said Xander calming down.
"Nope I bought six black tee shirts, four pairs of black jeans, and a new pair of Doc's."
"And they were Guess jeans and Tees." Said Cor helpfully.
"We gotta get the bags, love. Get back into bed and stop hyperventilating: tell yourself it was Angel's investment as you looked scruffy around the office before."
Xander stopped counting the bags once he realized there were more than thirty. The phone rang and he reached for the one on the new bedside table. "Yeah? Hi, Angel."
Writer: Azure K Mello
Disclaimer- I don't own the shoes I'm currently dancing in what's the likelihood I own anything in Joss' universe? I own the original novels. . . I bought them in Borders, and I own the DVDs. I don't however make money off of this I just seem to spend a lot on it. I in no way intend to infringe copyrights. I'm just entertaining myself, honestly, I'm shocked that anyone's read it. Nor do I own Franken Berry in any other way than that I have a box of it in my kitchen. And I certainly don't own the fifties.
Setting: Hero, some conversation is mangled out of said ep. Keep in mind that I am a strong believer in the fact that one little thing can change the course of history, hence cannon gets meddled with because life took a different path. .
Warning: SLASH Angel/Doyle. Spike/Xander. Don't like, don't read, don't flame. V. little happens in this chapter it's all build up.
Thanks to: Poison for being the fastest Beta I've ever had! And Isaly for getting out of my hair so I would have some time to write.
Section rating: R
Part 12/?
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"I'm the Dark Avenger?" said Angel disbelievingly as Cordelia told him her idea for a commercial.
"I know, it's perfect! We can do it ourselves on High 8. I'll charm a post-production house into doing the effects and. . ." Angel got up giving her a blank look. "Look, I know a little something about self- promotion, Angel, and I'm telling you one commercial like this could get us out of the red - or the black - or which ever one means we're broke, because that's us." Angel ignored her as he walked into the elevator, "So what? Buffy blows into to town and puts you into a permanent funk and I'm just supposed to stand by and watch our business go belly up?"
"He's not entirely wrong, you know? Look, all I'm saying is advertising a superhero that can't really go out in the daylight might raise vampire suspicions, not to mention our pesky lack of an investigator's license."
"And who needs a license when we have no clients?"
"We'll manage, princess. We always do."
"We will if we project the right image. And now I'm suddenly thinking that Angel is all wrong for this commercial! He is a larger-than- life character, way to Braveheart for Joe-Couch-potato to relate to. We need someone who's - average," she turned and looked at Xander, "run of the mill, ordinary." She smiled widely. "You're perfect."
"Fuck off, Cordelia." Said Spike with a smile. "He's anything but ordinary and he's not lowering himself to this level." Xander said nothing but smirked at his protective lover.
"Doyle, Come over here into the light, and let's see if we can create some cheekbones."
"Cordelia, I'm not the photogenic type. Plus I get dry mouth.'
"Excuse me?" she said in that perfect cold Queen C drawl. "This is not a negotiation. This is a necessity. Our boss, your boyfriend, is in a funk. You *know* that he's only happy when he's fighting evil. Now let's drum up some!"
"There are *other* things that make Angel happy." Said Spike helpfully while leering at Doyle.
"I don't know what we need evil for when we got you right here." Cordelia walked out. "And her. We're already over run."
"I heard that!" called Cor. As she walked back into the room she said thoughtfully. "Maybe if we get him a costume!"
"A costume?" sneered Xander.
"Well, the guy is a bona fide hero, would it kill him to put on some tights and a cape and garner us some free publicity?"
"I don't see Angel putting on some tights. . . Ah, now I do, and it's really . . . It could work for him."
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"Hey." said Doyle, "Is this a private catharsis or can anyone watch?" he said as he watched Angel pummeling a punching bag
"What do you want?" Said Angel coldly.
"Well, there's a girl upstairs who's not quite sad enough to cry in may arms, but keep up the dark cloud. I might get lucky."
Angel looked up and fell into a normal stance. "I'm sorry."
"Is this about Buffy?" said Doyle softly.
Angel roared with laughter. Tears fell out of his eyes as he tried desperately to get air into his long dead lungs. "You think this is about Buffy? Jesus, you and Xander should start a club for guys who don't realize their own worth."
"This moroseness is caused by me?"
"Doyle. . . do you know how much I love you? I want you so badly. And I don't mean physically. Vampires, we're very tactile creatures, I think it's because we're so like cats. But we need to be owned and to own. I had to come down here because I can't bear looking at Xander and Spike. Because I want that so badly. And I know that it's way too much to ask of you to commit yourself to me for forever. We haven't even been together for that long. And I know you probably hate me for putting this on you. Because now you're gonna feel like an arsehole when you say no. I didn't tell you this to pressure you into it. I just told you because I love you too much to keep it from you. Now I'll shut up and you can forget I've said any of this. Why are you smiling?" Doyle reached above their heads and pulled harshly on the hook holding up the punching bag. The force cut his finger deeply. He held the wounded Digit up to Angel. "Wait, wait. Are you sure."
"I'm offering myself to ye fer eternity and ye're askin' if I'm sure? After that little speech I think it would be rude to deny me what I've wanted fer so long."
"Are you just saying that to make me feel better."
"Angel man, Xander and I'll start the club but you have to be our charter member." He said as he placed the digit on Angel's lower lip. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"If you need help. Then look no further. Angel Investigations is the best! - Our rats are low." Said Spike with a smirk.
"Our rates!"
Spike smirked and pointed at the signs behind her. "It says 'rats'. I'm saying what you said. - Our rates are low, but our standards are high." He said throwing his arm up in the air like a superhero. "When the chips are down, and you're at the end of your rope you need someone that you can count on. And that's what you'll find here - someone that will go all the way, no matter what. And we're very discreet." He said winking. "So don't lose hope. Come on over to our offices and you'll see that there's still heroes in this world."
Cordelia sighed. "I think that won't work."
Doyle smiled at them as they stepped out of the elevator. "I don't know. I think people will be pouring in as soon as they hear about our low rats. Why did you do it in the first place, Spike?"
"She promised to stop whining." Said Xander who was reading a book. He looked Cordy up and down. "I don't think it'll happen." He said with a smile as he smirked over at Doyle then it hit him like a brick to the face. "It's about damn time. If I had sat around in this cloud of angst any longer I would have asphyxiated. That's a Spike word." He added to himself.
Spike smiled at Xander and said. "Commo, Cor, we're gonna go get some dinner and call it a night." He kissed Doyle's cheek as he walked by and scowled when Angel gave him a "we're such a happy family" smile.
Xander pulled Angel into a hug and smiled at Doyle. "Congrats. Call us if you need us." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Pacey, just tell the girl you love her!" screamed Spike sitting on the couch naked, eating a bowl of cereal.
Xander looked up from the book he was reading. "Why do you watch this? Here's what will happen: Pacey gets the girl. Dawson becomes rich and famous and that Andy girl will die."
Groaning, Spike turned off the TV. "Thanks a lot, pet. Why have you been reading so much as of late?" he said in an angry voice.
"Just because I didn't go to college it doesn't mean I won't further my education."
"Are you sure you didn't just see the title and think it was porn? Of Human Bondage?"
Xander just rolled his eyes and dog-eared his page. "Spike, do you trust me?"
"There are handcuffs in the left bedside table if that's what you're getting at." Said Spike with an appreciative leer at his husband's near-naked body.
He looked thoughtful for a moment as though weighing the choices. "Maybe later. I just meant do you trust me in general?"
"Of course I do, pet. You know that right, Xander?" said Spike suddenly worried about the boy's ego. "What is it? You can tell me anything?"
"It's nothing big. Stop wigging. It's just I want to redecorate the apartment. And I want you out while I'm doing it. Consider it a surprise. I just can't deal with the vibes of this place. It's like our "furnished" apartment was, at late, the home of an old couple who sold everything off bit by bit to pay for prescription medication. It's really fucking depressing."
"I hate you." Said Spike. He saw the look of hurt on Xander's face and instantly amended his statement. "Why do you get the tongue of a poet? I'm the supposed poet."
"You're the published poet." Reminded Xander. "So was that a yes?"
"Why not? I don't live here." The joke was cheep.
"It's a good thing I'm 19 or else I'd find your humor juvenile." Said Xander with a smile as he went to sit next to Spike. "Are you sure you're ok with this?"
"Just so long as you promise no kinetic art. Look, Xand, ya know how I always make fun of you for saying "home"?"
Nodding Xander said in a poor imitation of his lover, "Crass Americanism."
"Yes, well. You are home." Xander nodded looking confused. "No, not as in: you are here with a big arrow. I mean, you're *my* home. We could live in a total hole and I would be happy."
"We do live in a total hole." Said Xander waving a hand at the empty 50's pre-fab apartment.
"Exactly, so if it's as ugly as a soght demon after a rainstorm, I probably won't even notice. No kinetic art. Oh and if you can do this I get to buy you a new wardrobe."
Xander thought about it. "Fine but Cordy has to be consulted on at least 70 percent of it. Deal? Good. Go to work now 'cause a truck full of stuff will be here in twenty minutes. And take Cordy dancing tonight because the paint'll need time to dry."
"What would you have done if I had said no?"
"Pouted and bribed you with sex."
"To bribe you would have actually had to withheld it."
Confusion broke over Xander's face. "That's a good point I never thought of that." he put a spoonful of Spike's cereal in his mouth. Suddenly it dawned on him. The cereal was not Franken Berry or any other type that would dye the milk red. Nor would a red dyed cereal taste so strongly of iron. "Please don't tell me I'm drinking blood." His words were muffled for he would not swallow.
"Ok." Replied Spike.
"I'm drinking blood aren't I?"
"A little, yeah. We only had whole milk and I don't like the taste of whole milk so I used some to mask it." Xander grimaced as he swallowed gagging at the taste. Smirking Spike pulled the boy into his lap and licked the inside of his mouth clean.
"Why is your blood not like that?"
"Why is my blood a nummy treat while that disgusts you? Well my blood isn't really blood. It looks, smells, and tastes sort of like blood. Just like your body changes what you eat into tuff you need, mine does too. It's not like I have hollow fangs that pull blood into my veins. I drink it goes to my stomach. We drink blood because it's life. To survive the way we do we need to leech off the living, literally. And what finally gets into my bloodstream is power and life and all those delicious emotions. Some blood is always in us and doesn't get washed away and as we get older our own power and strength gets held in that blood. I'm a master, Xan, of course my blood is amazing." He bit his tongue and kissed Xander, plundering his mouth and filling the cavern with blood.
"Why doesn't this turn me?" He panted.
"Well. . . ya know how I said that this connection is purely based in the mind? Um, just as an example, if you believed that my name would appear branded on your ass it would. Say 'ello to the power of suggestion. What stops you from being turned is my will. I won't let you be turned, I don't believe it can happen, so it can't. No matter how much blood got exchanged. And just say another vampire tried to turn you it wouldn't work. You would sick up their blood and then you would lay there a bloodless animated corpse until I got there and fed you some of mine. My blood is your blood now. It can't hurt you because it's already ingrained in you. Hence the fact Angel is pulling the father act because his blood views you as his childe as surly as it views me. I better go pull on clothes and leave so I don't ruin the surprise for you. What should I tell Angel."
"He knows: who do you think sponsored this little endeavor?"
Spike smirked as he disentangled himself for the boy and went on a search for clothing. He opened the closet and called over his shoulder. "And if you get any time today would you throw away all of the clothes in here? You can save what you have emotional feelings for, otherwise chuck it out." He came back into the living room pulling a shirt on over his head. "Don't you dare save things that you think are salvageable. Everything goes, socks and underwear: all of it. Cordelia is going to have a ball with Peach's credit card." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Angelus, spill it." Said Spike walking into the office.
"Good morning, Will. And I'm sorry I can't. I promised Xander I wouldn't."
"Since when do you keep promises."
"He's already told me what he'll do if I tell you and suffice to say, I'm rather attached to my liver. I mean some of the stuff he said . . . well even as Angelus I never would have thought of some of this shit."
"Fuck you, I'll do worse." He saw that Angel wasn't about to give in. "Just answer me this: will I be able to live in it?"
"You weren't a punk until the seventies. Of course before that you were just a punk waiting for the word to be invented. . . I don't know. You'll be able to live in it. I think it's cool in an intrinsic dorky kind of a manner."
"It's going to be less bland than it is now but will it be more kitsch and crass?"
"No actually the plan is to make it more kitsch." Said Angel dryly. "What do you think, Spike?"
"Fine. May I have your credit card. Cordy and I need to go shopping."
Cordelia was already grabbing her handbag. "What are you buying?" asked Angel skeptically. "Last time I let Cor have the credit card they thought it had been stolen dew to the amount put on it in four hours."
"He was allowed to do the apartment if he promised no kinetic art and that I could get him a new wardrobe."
"That's good." Said Angel contemplatively. "No childe of mine should be dressed the way he is."
Spike rolled his eyes. "How typical, you think of how it reflects on *you*!" Angel handed him the small piece of plastic.
"Please keep it to four digits." Said Angel pleadingly as they walked out he picked up the phone with a sigh. "Hi. My name is Liam Angel . . . My mother's name? Darla. . . Yes, a few weeks ago there was a sudden influx of use on my card and you thought it was stolen . . . Well I just sent my kids out with it so within the next twelve hours expect just under 10,000 dollars to be put on it. . . thank-you."
Doyle just smiled at him as Angel rubbed his forehead. "Ye're such a good dad." Angel gave him a look. Doyle smirked. "And ye were worried about the heating bill. Wanta help me move all the stuff out of me apartment before tellin' the super tha' I'm gone?"
They were walking back through the sewers ten hours later when Doyle dropped a box. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At ten that night a knock came on the door. A bleary eyed Xander opened the door only partially. He was wrapped in nothing but a black bed sheet. Smiling he saw Spike on the other side. "You knocked?"
"Well I wasn't sure if I was allowed in."
"You are on the condition that you don't throw me up against a wall. They're still wet."
"Why would I. . . " his words trailed off when Xander fully opened the door and he saw what the youth wasn't wearing, his nonexistent breath caught in his throat. "My very own Grecian god complete with black toga."
"You make me sound like an action figure. Stop gawking at me and look at the damn room." Said Xander sternly but a smile played around his eyes.
Spike looked up and saw the living room they were standing in. "Holy Fuck! Angel wouldn't tell me anything because you scared him and I asked if it was going to be kitsch he was all sarcastic and said yes. He wasn't lying."
"Well I figured," Said Xander as he stood behind the blond he put his arms around his waist and hooked his head over Spike's shoulders, "that we have an ugly fifties apartment and there was nothing we could do to mask it. But what we could do was heighten it to a point wherein it was beyond crass and had become a cool parody of itself."
The whole apartment was completely decked out in fifties and sixties furniture and colours lime green and puce were sided right along with that robin blue. There was an old green Westly House radio set in the corner, the four unit long set up had speakers and a vinyl player, tape deck, an eight-track, and radio with two empty cupboards at the end.. A TV complete with bunny ears antae was sitting on a Formica table that was complete down to the splayed, tapered, metal legs. On the walls there were huge blown up versions of old magazine adds. On featured Spike's pride and joy: The '57 Fire Dome * by DeSoto. It featured a woman in a hat saying that the power steering made it so that even women could drive it! There were advertisements for Keds- the footwear of tomorrow, and the "new" Kitchenaid mixer, and Marilyn. The couch was bright blue and low to the ground it was boxy with wooden splayed legs. A chair next to it looked like it was straight out of the Jettison's. In front of them was a glass and mirror topped coffee table: kidney shaped of course, with a tin of Lucky Strikes on it next to a huge ceramic ashtray. There was a bar in the corner with a Formica top just waiting for cocktail hour and it was accompanied by white high-backed stools. All this was situated atop a huge black rug decorated with harsh geometrical shapes.
Spike gapped at everything. "This is so odd. Angel told me to say I liked it if I hated it; I practiced my look of joy for if it was really ugly: I'm to shocked to do it now."
"Good shocked?"
"This is so odd. Angel described it as cool in an intrinsically cool way, or maybe it was the other way around, whatever it was he was right. Where did you get all this?"
"Down in the antique district in the only store to admit that it was junk and not antiques. Do you like it?"
"I fucking love it. I'm just not sure I can live here." Xander pulled him past the kitchen which was complete with a kidney shaped table that had a swirlly pattern of puce and blue squiggles and matching metal chairs that had vinyl seat cushions and backs. There was an old stove and oven, a large toaster oven, and an old refrigerator. There was black and white china and coloured Pyrex with etched in sun bursts.
He pulled him into the bedroom. "Believe it or not I prepared for you saying that." He said as he opened the innocuous door that had the Marlboro Man posted on it in life sizes. Behind the door was Spike's haven from the odd apartment though, quite frankly, it was odder. Painted in a dark (almost black) red, with a black bed frame for a king sized bed which was covered in black bedding. The lighting was provided by long, cylindrical, bright white. neon bulbs lining the wall against the hardwood mahogany floor. There was another one across the top of the bed for reading. In the corner there was a large TV. "I figured you'd freak if you couldn't see Pacey's newest hairdo in full colour. Oh, and I cheated. In the Westly House set up hidden behind the doors is our old TV and a CD player and the DVD player and our phone: I'm no good at the rotor dial. And I redid the bathroom." He said nodding to the door, "It's all black and green." There were huge bookcases already lined with most of their books including their two complete sets of The Tales Of The City series and three books of Spike's published works. "You like?"
"Ho-ly Christ, Xander. Do I like it? I feel like Barbie in the fucking Dream House!"
"That's nice." Said Cordy from the door. "I need you to help me bring up bags." She said placing four down on the floor. "You'll never guess, Xan, Angel called the credit card company and put a limit on it. We had to leave DOLCI & GABBANNA, I've never been more mortified."
"Stingy! I mean hell he only paid to totally rehaul this place, in a day no less I *only* hade ten guys helping me." He said sarcastically, he felt like he was taking Angel for a ride. He knew the man wanted to help them, wanted them to be happy, but was this a bit much? "So what was the limit?"
"Ten thou'. Can you believe that?"
Xander went ashen. "You spent the thousand dollars on me?!?! Why?"
"You needed a new wardrobe." Said Cordy simply.
"Do you realize that I've never had any clothes that weren't Kmart, Salvation Army, or handed down? There was no need to-"
"That's exactly why we spent it. It's high time you had some nice clothes." Said Spike softly.
"Nice yes, ten thousand nice, no. Angel's going to be livid."
"No he won't he would have set the limit way lower if he hadn't wanted us to spend it. He let the two of us out with his plastic he knew what was going to happen."
"Besides we didn't spend it all on you." Spike was into full on pacification mode.
"Ya didn't?" said Xander calming down.
"Nope I bought six black tee shirts, four pairs of black jeans, and a new pair of Doc's."
"And they were Guess jeans and Tees." Said Cor helpfully.
"We gotta get the bags, love. Get back into bed and stop hyperventilating: tell yourself it was Angel's investment as you looked scruffy around the office before."
Xander stopped counting the bags once he realized there were more than thirty. The phone rang and he reached for the one on the new bedside table. "Yeah? Hi, Angel."