Title: That Damned Happiness Clause (27/?)
Find the rest here: 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'.
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The plane was taxi-ing and Spike was sitting balancing his checkbook. Xander looked out at the runway. Snow was piled high at the sides of the strip. "Wow, I've never seen that much snow!"
Smiling Spike leaned over him and looked out the window, "That's only about four feet, I hope we get a snowstorm while we're here. That way you can see what winter should look like." He kissed Xander's forehead, "Who ever would have thought that it would be a human that would convince me to go to Canada in December?"
"Thank you."
"Don't be silly! I'm excited, don't get me wrong, it's just that this is weirder than any trip I've ever taken."
"In a good way?"
"Well you're here with me right?" he asked with a gentle smile. As Xander blushed Spike tried to smirk to cover up for his melting heart. He was William the bloody, he couldn't turn to goo in public. "What shall we do first?"
"Why don't we check in at the hotel and then go snow tubing?"
"Snow tubing?" asked Spike incredulously.
"It's the latest big thing, it's a snow sport without any effort of skill. It has the tube lifts that you hook your tube to and it drops you at the top of a hill and then they have big, bumpy slides you go down. There's tubing mountain twenty minutes from the hotel."
"You thought this out." Said Spike with a smile. He loved it when Xander got excited.
"It's gonna be cool. . . or cold. I bought you snow pants."
"Be grateful I love you."
"They're black and covered with zippers. . . I tried."
"God I hate when you do that." said Spike looking away.
"Try to placate you?" asked Xander sounding slightly put out.
"No, when you're all thoughtful and make me feel squishy. I'm a master vampire this shouldn't happen to me. I don't get squishy feelings."
Laughing Xander said softly, "I'm your mate. Blame it on predatory nesting instincts. That way you save face and I still get my cuddle bunny." He turned back to look out the window.
"This is your captain speaking," said a French voice over the intercom. "It's negative ten degrees Celsius, that's negative fourteen degrees Fahrenheit. I hope you've packed warm clothes, this is Canada in December!"
"It's a damn good thing I love you." Spike smiled bitterly while banging his head against his chair.
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"How does Xander tink Spike got his money?" asked Doyle as he pulled on a coat. He had over heard Spike and Angel discussing funds earlier.
"He doesn't question it. I think he believes Spike rifled it off corpse in the past and therefore doesn't bring it up as he knows Spike is touchy about the whole "evil thing". He's been weird and keeps judging his badness, ever since that Buffy incident at the funeral. I don't know if he's defending his evilness or wondering if he's hurting Xander with his evilness, either way it's an issue." They walked down the street looking for any sign of Penn. Angel knew his childe and knew that the boy would be looking for a young, wayward boy. Penn had enjoyed killing his family and had done it repeatedly via proxies, he was hunting for his brother. Thus they walked around the cheap liquor district looking for a pretty underage boy
"So he didn't rifle it off corpse?" asked Doyle with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, he got pocket money and fags off his kills. The rest of it came from poetry."
"Poetry?"
"Ever heard of William Idol?"
"That's Spike? I thought that was all published postmortem by his da."
"Replace da with sire and you're right." He smiled and shook his head, "It's still odd to read about things you did in a history book." He stopped and turned around, "This way."
"What did you get out of publishin' it? In those days he wasn't exac'ly the favored son."
"No, in fact we're hunting the favored son... I liked Will's poetry."
"You're fuckin' me."
"Yes?" Angel looked confused and then said, "Oh, I get it. No, I liked it, like it still. And don't say it sucks, when people say that they often wake up to find themselves dead." He grimaced, "I actually kind of encouraged that. He needed better self-esteem, he believed what people said and he didn't think much of himself. But when he killed them he got back the spark."
"I thought that would be good: him not believin' in himself."
"What fun was it to break him if he already was broken? No I built him up and loved and adored him to get him to be a first-class vampire. . . Then I proceeded to destroy him."
"Sounds fun," said Doyle going gray.
"I hope Xander and he are having fun."
Doyle smiled, "I'm sure Spike is real ha'py right 'bout now."
Find the rest here: 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'.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The plane was taxi-ing and Spike was sitting balancing his checkbook. Xander looked out at the runway. Snow was piled high at the sides of the strip. "Wow, I've never seen that much snow!"
Smiling Spike leaned over him and looked out the window, "That's only about four feet, I hope we get a snowstorm while we're here. That way you can see what winter should look like." He kissed Xander's forehead, "Who ever would have thought that it would be a human that would convince me to go to Canada in December?"
"Thank you."
"Don't be silly! I'm excited, don't get me wrong, it's just that this is weirder than any trip I've ever taken."
"In a good way?"
"Well you're here with me right?" he asked with a gentle smile. As Xander blushed Spike tried to smirk to cover up for his melting heart. He was William the bloody, he couldn't turn to goo in public. "What shall we do first?"
"Why don't we check in at the hotel and then go snow tubing?"
"Snow tubing?" asked Spike incredulously.
"It's the latest big thing, it's a snow sport without any effort of skill. It has the tube lifts that you hook your tube to and it drops you at the top of a hill and then they have big, bumpy slides you go down. There's tubing mountain twenty minutes from the hotel."
"You thought this out." Said Spike with a smile. He loved it when Xander got excited.
"It's gonna be cool. . . or cold. I bought you snow pants."
"Be grateful I love you."
"They're black and covered with zippers. . . I tried."
"God I hate when you do that." said Spike looking away.
"Try to placate you?" asked Xander sounding slightly put out.
"No, when you're all thoughtful and make me feel squishy. I'm a master vampire this shouldn't happen to me. I don't get squishy feelings."
Laughing Xander said softly, "I'm your mate. Blame it on predatory nesting instincts. That way you save face and I still get my cuddle bunny." He turned back to look out the window.
"This is your captain speaking," said a French voice over the intercom. "It's negative ten degrees Celsius, that's negative fourteen degrees Fahrenheit. I hope you've packed warm clothes, this is Canada in December!"
"It's a damn good thing I love you." Spike smiled bitterly while banging his head against his chair.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"How does Xander tink Spike got his money?" asked Doyle as he pulled on a coat. He had over heard Spike and Angel discussing funds earlier.
"He doesn't question it. I think he believes Spike rifled it off corpse in the past and therefore doesn't bring it up as he knows Spike is touchy about the whole "evil thing". He's been weird and keeps judging his badness, ever since that Buffy incident at the funeral. I don't know if he's defending his evilness or wondering if he's hurting Xander with his evilness, either way it's an issue." They walked down the street looking for any sign of Penn. Angel knew his childe and knew that the boy would be looking for a young, wayward boy. Penn had enjoyed killing his family and had done it repeatedly via proxies, he was hunting for his brother. Thus they walked around the cheap liquor district looking for a pretty underage boy
"So he didn't rifle it off corpse?" asked Doyle with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, he got pocket money and fags off his kills. The rest of it came from poetry."
"Poetry?"
"Ever heard of William Idol?"
"That's Spike? I thought that was all published postmortem by his da."
"Replace da with sire and you're right." He smiled and shook his head, "It's still odd to read about things you did in a history book." He stopped and turned around, "This way."
"What did you get out of publishin' it? In those days he wasn't exac'ly the favored son."
"No, in fact we're hunting the favored son... I liked Will's poetry."
"You're fuckin' me."
"Yes?" Angel looked confused and then said, "Oh, I get it. No, I liked it, like it still. And don't say it sucks, when people say that they often wake up to find themselves dead." He grimaced, "I actually kind of encouraged that. He needed better self-esteem, he believed what people said and he didn't think much of himself. But when he killed them he got back the spark."
"I thought that would be good: him not believin' in himself."
"What fun was it to break him if he already was broken? No I built him up and loved and adored him to get him to be a first-class vampire. . . Then I proceeded to destroy him."
"Sounds fun," said Doyle going gray.
"I hope Xander and he are having fun."
Doyle smiled, "I'm sure Spike is real ha'py right 'bout now."