Title: That Damn Happiness Clause
Writer: Azure K Mello
Disclaimer- Nothing is mine, not even my soul
Setting: Somnambulist. 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 my cannon is not Joss'.
Warning: SLASH Angel/Doyle. Spike/Xander. Don't like, don't read, don't flame. MPREG- I know it offends some people. I love the people who get angry and say, "It is impossible for a man to have a baby!" and get all uppity, it's also impossible for vampires to exist and take mortal lovers, but that isn't what they focus on.
Section rating: R
Part 24/?
Find the rest here:
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Wesley had come back. After stealing- borrowing- Angel's paper he was unnerved. There on the front page was an article about murders that looked like they had been dealt out by Angel's own hand. He didn't know what to think and decided he was just going to bite the bullet and ask Cordelia. "What is going on?"
She looked at him blankly and then went back to work. He had come in time to witness everyone leaving the room. Didn't he know what was going on? "Angel and Spike are freaking out over dreams and Xander's just pulled Doyle into a bathroom. . . I wonder if they're making out. I so, so would not put that past them." She said not looking up from her filing and seemed to be talking more to the paper than the English man.
"What?" He asked getting steadily more confused he had been asking about whether Angel was evil and she brings up the fact that her boyfriend was snogging Xander Harris? "No I meant what is going on with all of this?" He threw the paper at Cordy and she read it carefully.
"Third body found in alley. So? Not exactly front-page news." She said laying aside the paper to look at her nails.
"Actually that is the front-page, but still, note the modus operandi? The mutilation of the corpse with a religious icon?"
Cordelia looked at him blankly, why couldn't he just state his point? "I'm against it?"
He took the paper away from her and gestured to the couch. "I think you better sit down. While executing my duties as Watcher in Sunnydale," He pulled out a manila folder, "I did extensive research. Specifically on Angel, given his uncomfortable proximity to the Slayer."
"He looked pretty comfortable to me."
Wes sighed and started pulling out papers from the folder, "When I saw this story today it rang chillingly familiar. So I reacquainted myself with certain facts, confirming, I'm sorry to say, my grim suspicions. In the late 1700s it was Angelus' custom to 'sign' his victims by carving a Christian cross into their left cheek." He handed the folder to Cordy who flipped idly through it, "He liked to let people know he'd been there."
Standing Cordy handed him the file back, "Okay, you get to leave now: you're not gonna come in here and accuse Angel like this."
"Cordelia."
"No! I don't care how many files you have on all the horrible things he did back in the powdered wig days! He is good now. And he's my friend. And nothing you or anyone else can say will make me turn on a friend!" She gestured to his stake, "Out! There is no questions about his moral compass. Don't ask just accept it." She said not wanting to go into her friends business if they wanted the watcher to know they would have told him. Angel didn't do this she knew that damn well.
"Yes, but."
"No buts. Don't ask, just move on. Leave if you're going to accuse him. He didn't do this. Stop being a pest. If you want to stay you can, but don't screw them. You won't make friends prying into the foursome's lives. Just leave them, leave Angel, alone. You mess about with them and you may find yourself dead. And I'm not saying they would kill you. I am the one threatening you. It's nice to see them all happy and if you fuck that up you will have a Sunnydale survivor to deal with. You want to interfere into all of their dealings: I could tell from all your questions this morning. You will get no where and as you seem to know no one else in this town you need friends. So just stop. It might take some getting used to but this is the good guys camp. Anyway in a few hours you won't have to deal with Spike and Xand."
"Yes, they're going to Canada? Is it for business?"
"No it's a long overdue vacation."
"Oh," said Wesley dryly. He felt like a child that had just been berated by a parent, "How pleasant for them."
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"You said you wouldn't laugh, you prick." Said Xander hitting Doyle hard.
"Man, what kind of a question was tha'? How di ye expect me to answer?" the Irish man laughed.
"It was a simple yes or no: am I fat?"
"Is this why ye've been wearing such baggy clothes? Ye aren't fat. Maybe ye've gained a little weight but not enough to really notice. It's muscle ye've always had the same emaciated look of Spike en I maybe ye're bulking out. It's certainly not enough to have passersby make comments." The boy nodded his head for a moment. "What's the blonde said?"
"Nothing, but he has noticed. I mean, he didn't raise a fuss when I put on a baggy shirt."
"Wait! Spike was tactful? That is odd."
"Please take me seriously. I know you think this is funny but it really isn't."
"No ye're right it's not funny: it's ridiculous. So ye've gained a few pounds and yer tactless lover is being tactful. Wow call the feckin' papers!"
"It's seventeen pounds and I woke up with it five days ago out of nowhere." Xander pulled the hem of his big tee-shirt up revealing a large stomach that was disproportional to the rest of his body.
Doyle suddenly sobered and Xander nodded as if he had won an argument. "Xander?" Doyle asked slowly trying to formulate the statement he had to make. "Ye woke up like this five days ago and Spike hasn't said a word? Has yer stomach been upset? Have ye been queasy? Have ye been sleepless feeling yer insides moving?" Xander nodded repeatedly. "That's odd. . . ye see Angel said Spike's dad was a doctor. And if that's true Spike should be able to tell the difference between a fat stomach and. . . well, a six month pregnant stomach." Xander barked a single bark of laughter and then stopped when he saw Doyle's face. "I wish I could say ye were fat. But ye aren't." He saw something else pass over Xander's face. The boy didn't seem the least bit upset over the prospect which was odd. "What is it?"
"I've been smoking for the last five days! I must be killing my baby!" said Xander suddenly retreating into the workings of his mind that mystified the Irish man.
"I'm sure it's fine." Doyle spoke slowly not knowing what to say. "Ye're mystically pregnant with the baby of a vampire, I don't think yer smoking will hurt the baby. Ye aren't upset?"
"Should I be?" the boy looked genuinely confused. "You mean 'cause I'm nineteen? Big deal. Spike and I are eternal and this is great. This is a gift."
"Well yes but ye're a pregnant guy. It's ok to be a lit'le unsettled."
"I'm not. . . I probably should be but I'm not. Do you think there is a demon midwife I could go to?"
"I know one." Doyle laughed bitterly, it was a true wonder what he knew. Grabbing a pen he wrote down the address. "Ye could go right now, they take walk-ins en then ye wouldn't worry while in Canada about yer smokin' or what ye've been eatin'."
Xander smiled. It was great that he had finally found a group that gave a damn about him. What the hell would he have done if he was by himself? "Commo," he said, "let's go see if they're done brooding. Then I'll sneak out if you don't mind. I don't want to tell Spike just yet. I mean what if it's one of those ghost pregnancies? You're body just makes you think you're knocked-up."
Doyle couldn't help but laugh at the boy's logic process. Xander glared, "Sorry I shouldn't laugh." He tried to compose himself but lost to a fit of very manly giggles.
Writer: Azure K Mello
Disclaimer- Nothing is mine, not even my soul
Setting: Somnambulist. 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 my cannon is not Joss'.
Warning: SLASH Angel/Doyle. Spike/Xander. Don't like, don't read, don't flame. MPREG- I know it offends some people. I love the people who get angry and say, "It is impossible for a man to have a baby!" and get all uppity, it's also impossible for vampires to exist and take mortal lovers, but that isn't what they focus on.
Section rating: R
Part 24/?
Find the rest here:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wesley had come back. After stealing- borrowing- Angel's paper he was unnerved. There on the front page was an article about murders that looked like they had been dealt out by Angel's own hand. He didn't know what to think and decided he was just going to bite the bullet and ask Cordelia. "What is going on?"
She looked at him blankly and then went back to work. He had come in time to witness everyone leaving the room. Didn't he know what was going on? "Angel and Spike are freaking out over dreams and Xander's just pulled Doyle into a bathroom. . . I wonder if they're making out. I so, so would not put that past them." She said not looking up from her filing and seemed to be talking more to the paper than the English man.
"What?" He asked getting steadily more confused he had been asking about whether Angel was evil and she brings up the fact that her boyfriend was snogging Xander Harris? "No I meant what is going on with all of this?" He threw the paper at Cordy and she read it carefully.
"Third body found in alley. So? Not exactly front-page news." She said laying aside the paper to look at her nails.
"Actually that is the front-page, but still, note the modus operandi? The mutilation of the corpse with a religious icon?"
Cordelia looked at him blankly, why couldn't he just state his point? "I'm against it?"
He took the paper away from her and gestured to the couch. "I think you better sit down. While executing my duties as Watcher in Sunnydale," He pulled out a manila folder, "I did extensive research. Specifically on Angel, given his uncomfortable proximity to the Slayer."
"He looked pretty comfortable to me."
Wes sighed and started pulling out papers from the folder, "When I saw this story today it rang chillingly familiar. So I reacquainted myself with certain facts, confirming, I'm sorry to say, my grim suspicions. In the late 1700s it was Angelus' custom to 'sign' his victims by carving a Christian cross into their left cheek." He handed the folder to Cordy who flipped idly through it, "He liked to let people know he'd been there."
Standing Cordy handed him the file back, "Okay, you get to leave now: you're not gonna come in here and accuse Angel like this."
"Cordelia."
"No! I don't care how many files you have on all the horrible things he did back in the powdered wig days! He is good now. And he's my friend. And nothing you or anyone else can say will make me turn on a friend!" She gestured to his stake, "Out! There is no questions about his moral compass. Don't ask just accept it." She said not wanting to go into her friends business if they wanted the watcher to know they would have told him. Angel didn't do this she knew that damn well.
"Yes, but."
"No buts. Don't ask, just move on. Leave if you're going to accuse him. He didn't do this. Stop being a pest. If you want to stay you can, but don't screw them. You won't make friends prying into the foursome's lives. Just leave them, leave Angel, alone. You mess about with them and you may find yourself dead. And I'm not saying they would kill you. I am the one threatening you. It's nice to see them all happy and if you fuck that up you will have a Sunnydale survivor to deal with. You want to interfere into all of their dealings: I could tell from all your questions this morning. You will get no where and as you seem to know no one else in this town you need friends. So just stop. It might take some getting used to but this is the good guys camp. Anyway in a few hours you won't have to deal with Spike and Xand."
"Yes, they're going to Canada? Is it for business?"
"No it's a long overdue vacation."
"Oh," said Wesley dryly. He felt like a child that had just been berated by a parent, "How pleasant for them."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You said you wouldn't laugh, you prick." Said Xander hitting Doyle hard.
"Man, what kind of a question was tha'? How di ye expect me to answer?" the Irish man laughed.
"It was a simple yes or no: am I fat?"
"Is this why ye've been wearing such baggy clothes? Ye aren't fat. Maybe ye've gained a little weight but not enough to really notice. It's muscle ye've always had the same emaciated look of Spike en I maybe ye're bulking out. It's certainly not enough to have passersby make comments." The boy nodded his head for a moment. "What's the blonde said?"
"Nothing, but he has noticed. I mean, he didn't raise a fuss when I put on a baggy shirt."
"Wait! Spike was tactful? That is odd."
"Please take me seriously. I know you think this is funny but it really isn't."
"No ye're right it's not funny: it's ridiculous. So ye've gained a few pounds and yer tactless lover is being tactful. Wow call the feckin' papers!"
"It's seventeen pounds and I woke up with it five days ago out of nowhere." Xander pulled the hem of his big tee-shirt up revealing a large stomach that was disproportional to the rest of his body.
Doyle suddenly sobered and Xander nodded as if he had won an argument. "Xander?" Doyle asked slowly trying to formulate the statement he had to make. "Ye woke up like this five days ago and Spike hasn't said a word? Has yer stomach been upset? Have ye been queasy? Have ye been sleepless feeling yer insides moving?" Xander nodded repeatedly. "That's odd. . . ye see Angel said Spike's dad was a doctor. And if that's true Spike should be able to tell the difference between a fat stomach and. . . well, a six month pregnant stomach." Xander barked a single bark of laughter and then stopped when he saw Doyle's face. "I wish I could say ye were fat. But ye aren't." He saw something else pass over Xander's face. The boy didn't seem the least bit upset over the prospect which was odd. "What is it?"
"I've been smoking for the last five days! I must be killing my baby!" said Xander suddenly retreating into the workings of his mind that mystified the Irish man.
"I'm sure it's fine." Doyle spoke slowly not knowing what to say. "Ye're mystically pregnant with the baby of a vampire, I don't think yer smoking will hurt the baby. Ye aren't upset?"
"Should I be?" the boy looked genuinely confused. "You mean 'cause I'm nineteen? Big deal. Spike and I are eternal and this is great. This is a gift."
"Well yes but ye're a pregnant guy. It's ok to be a lit'le unsettled."
"I'm not. . . I probably should be but I'm not. Do you think there is a demon midwife I could go to?"
"I know one." Doyle laughed bitterly, it was a true wonder what he knew. Grabbing a pen he wrote down the address. "Ye could go right now, they take walk-ins en then ye wouldn't worry while in Canada about yer smokin' or what ye've been eatin'."
Xander smiled. It was great that he had finally found a group that gave a damn about him. What the hell would he have done if he was by himself? "Commo," he said, "let's go see if they're done brooding. Then I'll sneak out if you don't mind. I don't want to tell Spike just yet. I mean what if it's one of those ghost pregnancies? You're body just makes you think you're knocked-up."
Doyle couldn't help but laugh at the boy's logic process. Xander glared, "Sorry I shouldn't laugh." He tried to compose himself but lost to a fit of very manly giggles.