Angel wished that Spike would stop yelling. The floor was surprisingly comfortable, and he wasn't particularly interested in moving.

"Angel, you stupid wanker! Get up!"

Angel twisted his head around and looked up at Spike, who seemed pretty angry. "I don't really want to," he explained.

"I don't give a single flyin' fuck what you want, there's a security guard, you need to get rid of him!"

"You do it." Problem solved, Angel let his eyes slip closed, only to open them again as Spike kicked him hard in the ribs.

"Ouch!"

"I can't do it! He's human," Spike said, and circled around behind Angel.

Angel didn't see the problem. "So?"

"Chip. Head. Blinding migraines."

Angel frowned. His brain seemed to be working a bit more slowly than normal. Finally, Spike's words worked their way into comprehension. "Oh."

He began trying to push himself to his feet, which was more difficult than expected. After a few long seconds, he felt Spike's hands on his elbow, pulling him upright. Unsteadily, Angel balanced and faced the security guard.

"Go on, then," Spike said from behind him, giving Angel a little push that almost knocked him off his feet. He stumbled gracelessly forward, and the security guard took his movement as a signal to attack.

The blurry human rushed at Angel, stake in hand. Feeling a little unwell, Angel dodged out of the way and fought to stay on his feet. The security guard skidded to a stop and came at him again. Angel raised an arm to block his strike, and blinked as the floor hit him hard on the back of the head.

"Roll, numbskull!"

Without thinking, Angel obeyed the command, and he heard the guard's stake splinter as it struck tile instead of Angel. Working on instinct, Angel kicked out and felt it connect. He pushed himself off the ground and toppled onto the security guard. After that, it only took him a few tries to get his fist to connect to the man's face. The man blinked, and Angel frowned a little. Normally, it would only take one solid hit for him to knock a man unconscious. But apparently, that wasn't the case today. He hit the security guard again, and finally, he went limp. Angel clambered off him, still unsteady on his feet and glad the fight was over.

"Alright," Spike said. "Now that that's taken care of, will you please, please tell me where you think they have the book?"
Angel considered. He hadn't been messing with Spike earlier, he really had no idea where the book was being kept. But there was one possibility….

"It may be in the library," he said.

"There's a bloody library?" Spike almost yelled. Angel winced away from the noise. "Why didn't you tell me that earlier?"

"I just...forgot about it?"

"Can you show it to me?" Spike asked.

"No."

"No?"

"I have something else I want to do."

Spike had absolutely no idea what in the world Angel could possibly want to do drunk off his ass at three in the morning in Wolfram and Hart. But Angel said it with such authority that Spike did really believe that he had a plan. And anyways, it would be nice to get a small break from the exasperating vampire. He had been furious when he first found Angel, but his anger had somewhat cooled into a sort of weary amusement. However, Angel was becoming useless enough that he was starting to grate on Spike's nerves again, and Spike thought it would be better for both of them if they seperated for a bit.

"What is it?" Spike asked.

Angel swayed on his feet and flapped his hands in a way Spike thought was analogous to him waving the question away. Spike's eyes narrowed. He didn't much care, as long as it didn't interfere with his ability to get the spell book, but Angel was acting fairly suspicious about the whole thing….

"Angel, what?"

"Don't...don't you worry about it. Just...meet up with me after you find the book."

Spike squinted at him, but then shrugged. He supposed he didn't really care. "How will I find you?"

"Mmmm, I'll be loud."

Spike eyed Angel with some trepidation and then decided that he really didn't want to know.

"Yeah, alright," he said, turning away. He walked off in the direction Angel had indicated, trying not to listen to Angel slamming into walls, presumably finding the corners unmanageable.

After a few wrong turns (Spike was willing to bet money, or kittens, on this building being bigger on the inside than the outside), he finally found the library. The room was impossibly big, with books stretching all the way to a ceiling that seemed much too far away.

Spike turned towards the door, intending to seek out Angel and set him on fire, when he spotted a large book neatly labeled "Catalog."

"Okay," he muttered to himself, taking a deep, calming breath. He didn't need the breath, but it made him feel better. "I won't stake the bastard after all. Maybe."

It didn't take Spike as long as he'd expected to find the book, only about half an hour compared to the eternity he'd feared. He grabbed the small red leather-bound volume and walked out the door to find Angel.

As the other vampire had promised, he was easy to find.

"YEAH, TAKE THAT, MOTHERFUCKERS! Good luck reading your files ever again cuz I fuckin' burned them!"

Spike paused, trying to triangulate the sound of Angel's yells. This was made more difficult by the fits of laughter that were interrupting him. He'd forgotten just how vindictive Angel could be. When it wasn't focused on him, it was almost funny.

"You know what's funny I'm a fuckin' vampire and I'm less of a blood sucker than every single one of you!"

Spike turned down a long hallway, trying not to giggle.

"You know, they have a list in Hell, of the worst demons around? The top three go like this…ummm… oh right, it's Graz the Destroyer, Angelus, and then lawyers. That's right, fuckers, you're more evil than my evil alter ego that tried to destroy the fuckin' world, suck it…."

Angel broke off abruptly and Spike choked back his laughter, halting in front of a half-open door labeled "Lilah Morgan." He pushed it open, and Angel twisted around slowly.

"Spike," Angel said, slurring slightly. Spike hadn't noticed it before, but now that they were in the same room, he could tell. "Didja get the book?"

Spike held up the spell book in reply. "Yep. We can go."

Angel didn't respond, instead closing his eyes and letting his head droop slightly.

"Angel?"

"Yeah…." He opened his eyes, but didn't seem any more aware. Clumsily, he raised his right hand, still clutching a bottle, to his lips. He swallowed a few good-size gulps before Spike even realized what was going on. Spike quickly crossed the room and grabbed the bottle from his unprotesting fingers.

"Hey," Angel said. He made a half-hearted swipe at Spike, eyes still closed. "Give...give me that back…."

"I think you've had plenty to drink," Spike said. "Come on. Let's get you back home, and then I can leave and we can hopefully never speak to each other again."

"N-no."

"No?" Spike was getting pretty fed up with all of Angel's shit. He had the book, now all he wanted was for this night to be over.

"I...I want the bottle back."

"Well, you can't have it."

"But I-"

"No."

Angel managed to open his eyes, and lifted his head up to peer blearily at Spike. "I'm...I'm not leaving until you give me back my drink."

Spike considered. Angel was in pretty bad shape, and Spike's highest priority was to get out of Wolfram and Hart. Even if he was only looking at what was best for Angel, that was still the first thing he needed to do. Vampires couldn't die from alcohol poisoning, he didn't think, so really what would help Angel the most was simply going home and sleeping it off. He would have a killer hangover, but should be no worse for the wear aside from that.

"Alright," Spike said. "But only one more drink. You've had plenty."

"You mean two more?"

Spike felt his hands clench at his sides. He fought to keep his voice even. "Oddly enough, I don't. If you have two more drinks I'll be carrying you home on the metro, and I won't do that. I'll leave you on the street for the bloody lawyers to find tomorrow. One more."

"Alright," Angel said. "One more."

Spike looked down at the bottle. It was still about a third full. He considered chugging what was left before handing it back to Angel, he wasn't even sure the other vampire would notice. But he figured one of them being drunk was plenty. He handed the bottle back to Angel.

"Hah," Angel said, voice small. "You gave me my bottle back."

Angel looked down at the bottle in his hands. His throat worked, and for a second Spike was afraid he was going to be sick right there. "Actually, I...think I'm going to have zero more drinks."

"Alright, great," Spike said. "Probably for the best. Now can we go?"

Angel nodded, but made no move to get up from the desk. Spike waited a beat, then sighed in annoyance.

"Some time before dawn, preferably."

Angel nodded again and started struggling to push himself upright. Spike considered just watching him flounder, but he did have somewhere to be. Slightly reluctantly, Spike stepped forward and pulled Angel to his feet.

"Come on, then," he said, starting for the door. He stopped as he realized Angel wasn't following him. "What now?"

Angel was standing where Spike had left him, staring at his feet in distress.

"Angel," Spike snapped, already going to retrieve him. "We need to leave, now."

"'M tryin," Angel mumbled, somewhat incoherently. "Feet...aren't working good."

Spike rolled his eyes and grabbed Angel's arm, intending to steer him out of the building. He stepped forward, and found himself suddenly taking all of Angel's weight as the other vampire stumbled heavily.

"Fuck, you can't even walk, can you?" Spike asked, starting to feel sympathetic despite himself. He'd been there.

"Nuh uh," Angel said, sounding utterly miserable.

"Fine." Spike draped Angel's arm across his shoulders and began to drag him out of the office. "You owe me one."

Angel was no longer having fun. The world was spinning around him, and he couldn't seem to walk or stand or even think properly. The contents of his stomach were lurching unpleasantly, and every time he swallowed he half-expected them to come back up.

"Still with me?" Spike asked from beside Angel. He sounded almost worried, which couldn't be right. Angel must be imagining it.

"Hey." Spike shook him a little, and Angel fought the urge to throw up right then and there. "Answer me. You alright?"

Angel thought that through. He wasn't entirely sure he was alright, but he couldn't force the words out. He managed a noncommittal mumble.

"Just...stay upright til we leave the building, yeah?"

Angel opened his mouth to ask Spike why he was still here, but all that came out was a small whimper.

"Alright," he heard Spike say. "Alright. You're okay, come on, we just have to get back out to the street and we can call a cab…."

Angel managed a small nod. He realized that his head was pressed in to Spike's shoulder. He wasn't particularly happy with that situation, but there wasn't exactly a lot he could do about it. There was no way he was going to be able to lift his head up. It was absolutely all he could manage to keep his legs from giving out beneath him.

"You know this is entirely your fault, right?" Spike said. "You're stupid. If you weren't, this wouldn't be happening. It's because you can't hold your liquor-"

Angel tuned Spike out. Trying to follow along with what he was saying was too hard right now. He needed to concentrate on walking. And not throwing up. Those were the important things. Yeah. Yeah, he could do this….

It was a few minutes later that he realized they had stopped walking. And immediately after that, he realized that Spike was talking to him. Angel lifted his head to look at him. Spike was pretty blurry. Angel blinked, wondering if he could get Spike to focus. He couldn't. He looked down at the floor again.

"Angel," Spike said. "Angel. Angel, come on, just listen to me for a second…."

Angel thought that Spike had been trying to talk to him for a while. He wasn't sure what he'd been saying. He nodded again, to indicate that he was paying attention now.

"Angel, are you listening to me?" Spike asked again.

"Mmmm, yes," Angel said. His voice was quiet. He wanted to talk louder, but it was too hard.

"We're going down the stairs now, okay?"

"Mmm. Okay."

"So you need to concentrate. Or I'm going to drop you on your face. It's only a few flights."

"Okay," Angel said softly.

"It's just...a little bit longer."

"Yes," he whispered. He hoped Spike was right, and it wouldn't be much longer. He didn't want to be upright anymore. He didn't know how much longer he could keep from vomiting. He just wanted to sit down and see if he could get the world to stop spinning.

Angel wasn't doing well. Spike was taking most of his weight, and Angel was just stumbling weakly along next to him. Angel's cheek was resting on Spike's shoulder, which was a situation that Spike found somewhat distressing. He wanted to move him, but he didn't think there was another way to keep him supported. If Spike were to take any less of Angel's weight, he was sure that Angel would fall.

They reached the stairwell, and Spike kicked the door open and dragged Angel through it. He looked at the stairs, then down at Angel, who seemed to be drooling on his shoulder. "Great. Should be fun."

It proved just as difficult as Spike had feared to get Angel down the stairs. Spike already was taking almost all of his weight, and Angel was barely shuffling along beside him. To make matters worse, every few steps, Angel would trip, or stumble, and Spike would be left holding him up completely.

They stepped down again, and Angel went limp.

"Do you want me to drop you?" Spike asked sharply.

"No," Angel whispered. "Please…"

Spike sighed. "I didn't mean that, not really. I'm not gonna drop you, just work with me here, okay?"

"Okay," Angel mumbled, and immediately tripped again. Spike swore as the sudden weight took him by surprise, and he and Angel tumbled down the few stairs left to the landing below.

Spike groaned and got to his feet, then looked around for Angel. The other vampire was - unsurprisingly - still sprawled on the ground.

"Come on," Spike said, offering a hand to Angel.

"Can't," Angel said, shaking his head slowly.

"You better," Spike replied impatiently.

"I feel sick…." Angel curled up slightly on the concrete floor.

"Fuck, are you gonna puke again?" Spike asked, stepping back, out of the splash zone.

"Uh huh," Angel answered, sounding utterly miserable. Spike waited for him to push himself upright, then realized that he probably couldn't. And while asphyxiation wouldn't kill a vampire, Spike didn't particularly want to watch Angel choke on his own vomit. Not even for the embarrassment it would cause him later.

"Ugh," Spike muttered, and grabbed Angel by the shoulders. He heaved the almost completely limp vampire upright, then dragged him over to the wall, propping him sideways in the corner.

Angel hiccupped, and his eyes widened slightly. He leaned his head forward, choking as the alcohol forced its way back up his throat. He gagged pitifully and threw up a nauseating mixture of alcohol and blood.

"Alright," Spike said. "Now that's done, do you think you can stand?"

Angel shook his head, still staring unhappily at the patch of floor in front of him. Spike noticed that his arms were shaking, and he was glad that he had had the forethought to lean Angel against the wall. Otherwise, he wasn't sure he would have been able to stay up on his own.

"You can't stand?" Spike asked. He wondered if he had a way to take even more of Angel's weight than he had before. He wasn't sure he could carry Angel completely, not down a flight of stairs. Would it be easier to just wait here until he sobered up a little? But that would mean a few more hours until he could start searching for Dru, and it also upped their chances of being discovered. How early would these bloody lawyers come in to work anyways?

Angel shook his head again, still looking miserable.

"You-"

"Not done," Angel croaked.

Spike groaned. From Spike's experience, if you started throwing up drunk there were two possible scenarios. Probably, you would throw up once and then be able to move on in a few minutes, maybe even keep drinking if you were lucky. This is what usually happened to Spike. But it was also possible for a body to start rejecting all the alcohol it had been given, even for vampires. If Angel were human, Spike would probably be taking him to the hospital right now. As it was, he still figured he'd better settle in for a good long wait with Angel. It might be a while before he was done.

On the list of things Spike would like to be doing, watching over Angel while he threw up the equivalent of at least six full bottles of liquor was very low. He hated taking care of sick people anyways, and it was Angel on top of it, and oh now he was moaning miserably, and looking up at Spike with pathetic suffering in his eyes….

Spike would rather be drinking rancid blood, or getting his fingernails pulled out, or hell, even having a feelings talk with Buffy would probably be better than this.

Angel coughed weakly, and threw up another few mouthfuls onto the ground in front of him. Spike watched his throat work as he fought down yet another wave of nausea. His skin was so pale it looked almost waxy, and there was a faint greenish cast to it. His eyes were half-lidded. Spike hoped he wasn't going to faint. He wasn't about to hold Angel up while he vomited alcohol onto the ground.

Angel listed forward slightly, coughing raggedly. His eyes closed, tightening in pain, and Spike winced in momentary sympathy. His throat was probably on fire from the alcohol and stomach acid forcing its way back up, and Spike knew from experience that that was an unpleasant feeling.

Then, he remembered it was Angel, someone he didn't even like, someone he'd tried to kill on occasion. Spike shook himself. He shouldn't feel sorry for him.

Then Angel leaned farther forward, and his arms began trembling harder, and before Spike could stop himself he'd shot out a hand to keep Angel upright.

Angel vomited again, shoulder tense under Spike's fingers. "Thanks," he said softly, then began throwing up again.

"Don't mention it," Spike mumbled. "Really, don't."

Angel hiccoughed more alcohol onto the concrete landing and let out a small, pathetic moan. Spike shifted uncomfortably, still keeping Angel from falling into his own vomit.

"Think of it this way, at least you're leaving your lawyer friends a nice surprise," Spike pointed out.

Angel gave a pained chuckle and nodded slightly. He looked up at Spike gratefully, and Spike looked away. This was worse than Angel throwing bottles at his head. It made it harder to hate him.

"Just hurry up," Spike said, glaring at Angel, who dropped his head guiltily. "I wanna get out of here during my un-lifetime."