How To Kill Your Boyfriend In One Hard Lesson Chapter 12, an angel fanfic

Disclaimer: Don't own, etc., etc. Joss Whedon rules supreme and retains pretty much everything. Only written for personal enjoyment and because this plot bunny just wouldn't die, even after some serious staking…

Summary: Occurs after Brother, Unfortunately Mine. Rating 18 for sexual references. The sibling theme is not entirely played out …

HOW TO KILL YOUR (PSYCHO) BOYFRIEND IN ONE HARD LESSON

Chapter 12 – Intersections and Connections

"The Rosita Museum!" Announced Dawn gleefully, bouncing on the circular couch that was the centrepiece of the Hyperion lobby.

"Eh?" Spike looked up from where he was ferreting about for a screwdriver. Cheerfully indifferent to the Hyperion's plethora of poltergeists, Dawn had fallen in love with the whole Jimmy Cagney/Humphrey Bogart/Edward G. Robinson air of it all, wondering aloud if any famous names of yesteryear had stayed there – had Bette Davis, Joan Crawford, Katherine Hepburn or Lauren Bacall ever sashayed down those stairs in full evening wear, dripping with jewellery and furs, cigarette smouldering in one of those elegant holders to prevent smudging of scarlet lips?

She and Spike had spent a pleasant morning exploring as much they could, though some of the rooms clearly needed major renovations. Showing a good grasp of interior renovation, Angel had started work at the roof, making his way gradually down so that all the grime, dust and dirt went downwards.

Dawn glared. "Spike, I'm on a timetable here. I've got to be back to Sunnydale by Friday – everyone will back home and we're going to veg out and watch Attack of the Fifty Foot Woman."

"Of course, I can really see the urgency there."

"It's no good just staying cooped up in here waiting for Stefan to finally track me down. He's not bright enough to figure it out until next week." Dawn retorted. "We go out somewhere nice and visible, he tracks me back to the hotel, and when he tries to pounce, we're ready to whack him. I go home and everyone's happy. Besides, I wanna ride in the Viper!"

Though in agreement, Spike was too sensible to say so before checking with mon Capitan. Calling Angel's direct line from the reception switchboard phone, he explained Dawn's plan to Angel, who while far from thrilled saw the merit. Spike reassured his grandsire that he would take Gru along as a precaution on the off-chance that Stefan might realise Spike was a vampire, and try to force Dawn out into the sunlight. Spike didn't bother to mention to Angel that he would not hesitate to follow the scumbag and ensure that Stefan was also consumed by the inferno that would kill him.

"Aw, Connor, come on man!" They urged, though they knew it was futile; they had seen that look before.

"I'll catch up later." Connor assured his friends, before turning away and instantly forgetting them as they continued on.

They had been to planning spend the day at the mall, eating burgers, checking out girls and picking up some of the latest CDs. However, Connor had awoken this morning feeling distinctly strange and aroused with a capital 'A'. Wet dreams were just one of the many excruciatingly embarrassing side-effects of being a teenage male, which convinced Connor that the universe was secretly laughing at humanity, but this morning he had been as hard as a rock and in some actual pain. To his relief his problem had gradually deflated, but the prickling awareness had increased – his skin had been unusually sensitive, his clothes full of static electricity. The desire to go to the Rosy had become an overwhelming compulsion far faster than his normal impulses became certain knowledge. As he hurried along the sidewalk, compelled to a speed he did not understand, a word he would ever have though to utilise persisted in floating around his brain: mate.

Continued in Chapter 13…