Fanfic: One Week (REM Series 2/12)

[smokingmirror]

Title: One Week
Series: REM 2/12
Author: Avarice
Rating: PG
Pairing: Angel/Spike, Angelus/Darla
Spoilers: General BtVS s4/A:tS s1
Summary: Spike is sent on assignment to Los Angeles.
Word Count: 2671
Date First Posted: 2001
Date Revised - 13-05-2011
Beta: Kita
Awards: -
Notes: Ugly Angelus moustache and bad Irish accents ahoy! I claim that my writing of the Irish accent is about as good as David Boreanaz's attempt at speaking it. Love the man, but he was painful.
Feedback: always welcome, as is constructive criticism.

One week.

7 days.

Spike had exactly one week to find the demon in question, collect the needed information and high-tail it back to Sunnydale.

The blond inhaled on his cigarette deeply, it doing something to soothe his jangling nerves.

Exactly one week.

No more.

The latest big scary threat to the known world was about to rear its very likely ugly head in Sunnyhell. "Big bloody surprise there," Spike had remembered commenting. After hours of research, Giles had discovered a series of incantations that would prevent the Toska'ar demon from coming to full power, making it easy to kill.

After more research he had discovered these incantations were contained in a book long believed to be destroyed.

But after still more research, he was able to find a demon who just happened to have the necessary pages from this book.

It all seemed just a bit too simple.

That's why Spike had been waiting for the catch when he'd been summoned to the ex-Watcher's house.

It seemed this demon would hand over the pages for money. The catch was, he was skittish of humans, especially a Slayer, and would not make the deal with anyone human.

So Spike was cajoled into making the trade with promises of blood and smokes.

And threatened with slow and painful death if he arrived a day later than the week he was given to make the exchange and return. This also applied to skipping the state or country with the money.

One week.

7 days.

168 hours.

So the blond vampire was on his way to meet this demon. And where does this demon chose to do business?

LA, of course.

Another little trump card for the Slayerettes. Spike had been threatened with the intervention of his sire if he did anything but what was required while in the city. The blond vampire had quickly agreed to any and all conditions. Anything to prevent the pathetic little gang from ringing up his sire and telling him to babysit.

Spike drummed his fingers on the steering wheel anxiously.

One week.

It had been one week since his sire had visited Sunnydale unbeknownst to everyone but him.

Seven days since Spike had started feeling like he didn't hate his sire as much as he told everyone he did.

One hundred and sixty eight hours since Angel had bandaged his wounds and taken care of him.

10,080 minutes since the blond vampire had felt a little less alone in the world.

And a lifetime since he had felt like Will and not Spike.

Spike's lips turned up at the corners slightly. That was the clincher.

To Darla, he had always been 'boy'.

To frightened commoners all over England, he had been William the Bloody.

To Drusilla, he had been her Spike.

To the most recent incarnation of Angelus, he had been 'Sit n' Spin'.

But to Angelus, the real Angelus, he had always been, and would always be, Will.

+ + + + +

Belfast, 1844

Two pairs of boots sounded heavily on pebbled pavements. Delicate shoes made soft clacking noises. Anyone who passed the three travelers pulled up their collar and hurried past, unwilling to go so far as to even make eye-contact with them.

Angelus, Darla and Spike were on the hunt.

The trio had only been in Belfast for one week and already the local population was stricken with the most delightful terror. Rumours of brutal killings by devils surely sent from Lucifer spread like the Plague through the frightened community. Being visitors, and obviously wealthy, the three vampires were duly warned frequently about it not being safe for persons of their high station to be traveling around at night.

Whoever was 'concerned' enough to dispense the warning was usually found dead in an alley come sunrise.

Angelus walked at a slow, measured pace, Darla's arm properly linked through his. The youngest of the three trailed ever so slightly, however never further than an arm's length away from his sire and grandsire. It looked for all the world as if they were out for an evening stroll, or on their way to some grand party.

In reality, Darla was scouting for potential targets, Angelus was protecting his sire's flank and Spike watched their backs and guarded against being taken by surprise.

Darla sighed loudly. "The streets aren't as full with game as they usually are." Angelus looked down, a smile curling his lips.

"Mayhaps these 'devils' there's talk about 're scarin' them away." Spike snorted in laughter.

" 'Mayhaps' it's just your ridiculous moustache, Angelus," he commented sardonically. Darla smirked in amusement and the dark-haired vampire scowled at his childe for mocking him in front of his sire, a growl sounding from deep in his throat. Darla patted her childe's hand.

"Angelus," she chided, mirth heavy in her voice, "you were saying to me just this morning you were thinking about shaving it off." Spike's grin grew larger, as Angelus' frown became more pronounced. He hated when his childe jeered him in front of his sire. Darla got vicarious pleasure out of his anger, and often stopped him disciplining Spike immediately. Angelus blew air through his lips testily. The younger vampire was doing it not only to just be an irritation, but to win favour with Darla.

The pretty blond put a hand on his bicep, discouraging him from his initial instincts, which were to drag the insolent vampire into a deserted alley and show him exactly who was cleverer. Angelus swallowed slowly, calming himself and raised Darla's pale hand to his lips, brushing them across cool skin.

"Ye wilna miss th' way it tickles, then?" he murmured, scraping blunt teeth across her knuckles. Spike's grin fell away, and was replaced with an aggrieved expression of annoyance. Darla smiled seductively and walked slender fingers over his lips.

Oh yes, Angelus could win Darla's favour, too.

Spike cleared his throat. "I'm hungry," he stated abruptly, "are we going to eat or are you two itching for a quick shag?" Darla pulled her hand away from her childe's mouth.

"The boy has an idea," she purred, tongue darting out to wet her lips. Angelus turned to glance at the younger vampire. The poorly disguised hurt and anger on Spike's face was palpable.

"Nae, 'tis best we sup first," he grinned rakishly. "Build up strength for... later." Darla was appeased by this suggestion and linked her arm into Angelus' again.

"Very well, we shall eat first. But be sure to punish the boy later for his rudeness. Such behaviour cannot go uncorrected." Angelus looked to Spike, a stern expression on his face that somehow, did not reach his eyes. Reaching out, he grabbed the hem of the younger vampire's jacket roughly and pulled him closer, but slid the same hand up under it to rest on the small of his back.

"Dinna be concerned, Darla," the dark-haired vampire's eyes smoldered with intent of a completely different nature, "I plan to give Will's hide a good seein' to later on."

Spike just smirked.

+ + +

Angelus sunk his teeth into Spike's jugular, tearing at the skin. The older vampire drank, not out of hunger, but as a display of superiority. Spike's yell caught in his throat as the sensations of his sire drinking from him made him light-headed. Elegantly manicured nails dug into naked skin, holding him down on the imported linen that covered Angelus' bed.

The older vampire tore his mouth away from his childe's neck and watched with yellow eyes as blood pumped sluggishly from the wound. Spike gasped for unneeded breath as the pain and pleasure of the last few hours finally caught up with him. Angelus bent down again and fastened his mouth over the wound, but instead of draining still more blood, his features melted into those of his attractive human mask, and he swirled his tongue over the punctures, willing them closed.

"Angelus..." Spike murmured, his chest rapidly rising and falling in an automatic response. His sire appeared amused at the blatantly human reaction. The younger vampire closed his eyes and reached a hand to the back of Angelus' head and applied soft pressure. Angelus let out a low growl of approval.

Eventually the older vampire lifted his head. The two wounds had closed up, and come tomorrow would be faded. He looked down at his childe and crushed their lips together in a kiss that was at once brutal and tender, punishing and conciliatory, but always absolute and inescapable.

"Mine," he whispered fiercely once they had separated, touching his forehead to Spike's ridges. They melted away as Spike's faux breathing slowly halted. "My Will." Spike could have sworn his undead heart actually pulsed for a moment at his sire's words.

The room's temperature climbed slightly. The younger vampire looked towards the heavily curtained window and observed as the dark green velvet drapes lightened. The sun was rising. Angelus turned Spike's head towards his own.

"Enough. Ye've learnt yer lesson...I hope..." his voice took on a slightly dangerous tone, "now sleep." The older man closed his eyes and settled Spike against his body comfortably. Spike lay his head down on his sire's shoulder, absently tracing patterns over Angelus' broad, moisture-soaked chest, wide awake.

"Sire," he spoke up eventually.

"I told ye to sleep, Will. 'twas no' a request." Spike's brows knitted slightly and pressed on.

"Why?"

"Because I'm ye sire, an' I tell ye t' sleep," Angelus' irritated voice answered.

"No, not that... why do you keep calling me Will when no one else does?"

The older vampire was silent for a long moment. Spike thought he had fallen back asleep when he received an answer.

"Tha's yer name, is it no'? Why shouldn't I call ye tha'?"

"No one else does."

"An' I'd kill them if they did," his sire answered matter-of-factly. Spike raised his head, confusion etched on his handsome features. Angelus opened his eyes and gave a small sigh.

"Ye may be William th' Bloody t' th' god-fearin' mortals, or Spike to others still fer tha' little habit y'picked up in Essex," his lips curled up in a small smirk, "but t'me, ye'll always be Will. It dinna matter wha' happens, I know who y'are. Really."

"Who am I?" Spike asked, failing at nonchalance miserably. "I mean, apart from being a bloody good killer and all," Angelus chuckled at his childe's cocky attitude.

"Let's see... apart from being the 'bloody good killer'," The older vampire humoured Spike's colloquialisms, "y'are a quick, intelligent lad, but ye prefer action rather than book-smarts t' get things done. Ye have no patience t' sit down an' listen t' classical music, yet y'love t' dance. Ye hate bein' told what t' do but crave," Angelus purred out the word, "domination." Spike mulled over his sire's words.

"Anything else?"

"Ye have the tightest arse I've ever seen."

"That much is true."

Angelus laughed heartily at his agreement. "In short, ye're Will. An' nobody knows ye like I do, so tha' makes ye my Will." Angelus tightened his arm possessively around Spike's body. "Now, 'tis time t' sleep. Will I haveta say it again?"

Queries stemmed for the moment, Spike shook his head mutely and rested his head on Angelus' chest. His sire grunted in approval and pressed a kiss to soft, dark hair before closing his eyes once again.

"Sleep well, Angelus," Spike murmured softly. Angelus yawned tiredly and curled another arm around the other vampire's slighter form.

"Dream with me, Will."

He did.

+ + + + +

Spike took a deep drag on his cigarette and leant back against his car, blowing the smoke into a still night. The meeting had gone off without a hitch. As soon as he had arrived in LA, the blond had contacted the demon and made the trade without the least bit of fuss.

Simple as that.

And now he had one week to kill.

One week.

7 days.

The blond vampire walked to a phone box a few metres away. The weak fluorescent light made him seem more pallid than usual. He stared at the receiver intently before picking it up and passing it from hand to hand. Spike watched in detached amusement as the receiver floated around by itself in the reflection of the glass.

He clamped the handset between his ear and shoulder while he fished around in the pocket of his duster. Spike pulled out a creased, dirty card and a quarter. The blond squinted out the glass and looked across the street. It was after hours and the Angel Investigations office was closed for the evening. There were no lights on at street level, but that meant nothing. He was there.

Spike looked down at the phone number on the card and back across the street.

"Fuck," he cursed and shoved the quarter into the change slot. The vampire punched out numbers quickly before he could change his mind. Harsh ringing filled his ears as opposed to the steady dial tone.

168 hours.

The phone rang and rang and rang. Spike screwed up his face in distaste.

"...knew this was a bloody stupid idea... fuckin' hell why do I both-"

"Hello?"

The blond clammed up, stunned into silence at the sound of the familiar voice. Try as he might, Spike could not coax his normally faster-than-light mouth to say a word for long moments. The other end of the line stayed annoyingly silent. This was pointless.

"Fuck," he whispered, and went to hang up. The receiver was half-way from his ear to the phone box when his sharp ears picked up that one word.

"Will?"

Spike sucked in a useless gasp. It was different hearing it sober. He was finally able to entice his slack jaw into action and replaced the receiver next to his ear.

"Yeah," the blond croaked.

"I was told you were coming."

Indignation was enough to get his mouth moving. "Damn bloody Slayerettes, they can't fucking well keep their gobs shut, can they? What, did they tell you to put a bell around my neck, or what?" The voice on the other end actually chuckled.

"That was my suggestion, actually."

Spike growled. "I don't know why I fucking well bother. Spending money calling an ungrateful prick when I could be buying alcohol or at least doing something a bit more enjoyable than talking to you. This is just painful-"

"Where are you?"

Spike's diatribe was cut short with the question. But before he could answer, a door opened across the street. Angel stood in the doorway to his offices, cell phone in hand. The two vampires stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, before the older man inclined his head slightly.

"Why don't you come on in."

"Why should I?"

"It wasn't a request."

Spike stifled a smile. Of course he could get in his car and drive away. No one was forcing him to stay.

He hung up the phone slowly and stepped out of the phone booth. Crushing his cigarette into the pavement with his Docs, Spike walked deliberately across the street. The younger vampire reached the door and looked up at his sire. Angel closed his cell phone and gestured inside.

"Will," he nodded.

"Sire," Spike answered before he could stop himself. "Fuck," he cursed again.

A ghost of a smile played on Angel's face as he shut the door behind his childe.

~finis

On to Just Like Old Times