Title: The Babysitter

Author: Azure K Mello

Part: 33/36

Pairing: Angel/Spike

Rated: Adult

Type: AU

Summery: Waiting for Christmas.

Disclaimer: I don't own BtVS

Find the rest at: /azurekmello

The Bronze was packed and a band Will didn't know the name of but still knew all the songs of was playing. He walked in with Faith and they did cause a bit of a stir. Both beautifully turned out in black with heavy eyeliner and dark red lips. Hitting the dance floor immediately they fell into step with one another.

It had been a good day. All of the footballers had been suspended bright and early Monday morning. They wouldn't tell Fluty who they had beaten up but the principle had said that the school wouldn't support hooligans and they were suspended from the football team until midterm of the next semester.

Now they were dancing. And after the first set Will asked, "Want a coffee?" So they headed to the bar and ordered and iced latte and a hot-hot cappuccino. And they were sitting at one of the high tables. Will was pointing people out to Faith, giving out back stories. Being new was always sort of awful so Will was trying to give her an edge. Gunn walked in and he said, "That's our drummer; he's a freshman at SU."

"He's a hottie at SU," corrected Faith.

"Want an introduction?" She nodded and he shouted over the music, "Yo, Gunn!"

The man came over with a smile, "Spike, how's it hanging?"

"I'm never sure how to respond to that." Will shook his head. "Gunn this is Faith Lehane, Faith is a competitive fighter, she's training with my dad. Faith this is Charles Gunn, he plays the drums in Sunnyhell's hottest band." He looked between them and said, "My role as wingman is complete and Angel has just walked."

Gunn turned and said, "That's the dude Oz tried to jump?"

"Yeah."

"He looks good considering he got the crap kicked out of him four days ago."

"He's a fast healer," Will agreed. "Talk to you later."

Angel was standing holding a book bag and looking around Willow and Tara were pealing off to talk to people. "Don't you have your last class tomorrow?" Will asked.

"I brought my books," Angel justified. "I wouldn't miss this, it's the closest thing we have to a rave."

"You don't like loud music and you say you can't dance."

"Yeah, I still wouldn't miss this it's good people watching. Plus it's good coffee for a dollar."

"What are you studying?"

"I have a test tomorrow on Moissac."

"Ouch. I know the façade so I can help you there."

"Why do you know anything about a church in southwest France."

"It's a cloister, it functions as a church now but it's still a cloister architecturally. Are you sure you shouldn't be at home?"

"Hey I know that its name is Abbeye St-Pierre de Moissac."

"Good enough, coffee?" he offered.

They sat drinking, eating croissants, and vaguely studying. Will kept abandoning Angel to dance. But they had a good time. Gunn came over to introduce himself but Angel said, "We met once. You don't remember. I'm the guy who ran into the woodwork room losing my shit after my canvas stretcher broke. You nailed it back together."

"You're the sobbing art guy!"

"That's me." Will gave him a look. "I had two days 'til the due date and an unstretched canvas. I've had that machine since I was sixteen. What you do if Andy the Amp died?"

"Oh I wouldn't cry. I would sit in a corner rocking back and forth," Will laughed.

At one point Will followed Willow down to the basement.

Turning she said, "I'm going to the lady's room. What do you need?"

"I need help with Angel's Christmas gift. Do you want to powder your nose first?"

Once she had come back he quickly outlined his problem and she gave him all the information he needed.

Angel was trying to rush his way through his shift. He wanted to get out and go to the Gileses. That morning he had packed his bag and had brought it with him to work. Genuinely excited about the next few days he almost whooped when the clock hit six thirty. And just as he was about to run out of the coffee shop his cell phone rang.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"I need some help with your present. You're getting it early. Can you meet me at Mom's gallery?"

"Absolutely, I'll see you in five minutes." He hung up thinking about the box that was poorly wrapped in the back of his car. He didn't speed, even though he wanted to. Cops in Sunnydale liked to ignore the high rate of fatality by giving out tickets for moving violations. Pulling into the small parking lot he saw Will waiting for him by the front door. "Why are you outside?"

"It's too big to wrap. So I didn't want to miss you coming in." He opened the door and said, "After you."

Angel went inside and stopped dead. He looked around silently, taking it in.

"You said you weren't good enough to be a real artist. I wanted to show you your pretend art in a real space."

"How did you?" he trailed off.

"Willow gave me your professors' numbers. They had finished grading everything. I borrowed Mum's minivan and emptied your studio. That in and of itself could be viewed as a gift: I drove a minivan for you. I also stole a lot of stuff from the apartment while you were at work today."

"It looks like actual art in here."

"It is art, Liam. When it's not in closets, under your bed, or stacked in your studio it shines."

"Thank you for this."

"Well, there's more. The artist who's supposed to do Mum's New Year's Eve show dropped out. If you don't want to do it other people are gagging for it. But Mum likes your art, she wouldn't be doing it as a favor, she would still take thirty percent but this will sell, easily, for a high profit. All of your professors want to come, a lot of very influential buyers come, and private collectors from LA, New York, London, and Japan. It's the biggest night of the gallery's year. It's high pressure, but I'm not setting you up to fall."

"Do you think it's that good?"

"I think it's quite a bit better than good. The only real issue is taking down things you don't want to sell, and there's dozens in the back to refill the walls as they get emptied. So you would need to go through those. You would need photos of them all for your portfolio. And there are a lot of small, limited edition etchings that you might want to keep some of. But I think this would be very good. And as you're incredibly prolific I don't see this as a flash in the pan."

"Jesus."

"Don't freak out, you can say no."

"Yes, but I don't want to. This sort of makes your present a joke." Angel looked around once more and said, "Wow, okay, I can't really process this. Let's go. Yours is in my car."

Will ripped the paper off the box in seconds and had the gift out in under a minute. He held it like a baby. "This is a joke? Liam, this is a Godsend."

"It's no shift driving is in top condition. I found a guy in LA, he built it from scratch."

Will whimpered as though the very thought of it gave him a hard on. To his car he called, "Baby, Angel got you a new gearbox. You can have your heart transplant on Boxing Day." Turning back to his boyfriend Will said, "Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas."