Disclaimer: I own nothing. It all belongs to Joss and a bunch of other people who are not now and have never been me.
Author's Notes: This was written with all sorts of affection for the lovely and talented hotspur18. I hope she enjoys my first ever foray into the land of her OTP.
Ghosts
There wasn’t a whole lot he could say for being a ghost. The pleasures of the flesh - eating, alcohol, shagging - were all off the menu until Fred could figure out some trick to make him a real boy again. But there was one thing he was enjoying - the chance to spy on Angel’s Watcher.
He’d heard a bit about the man when he’d been back in Sunnydale. The gang had told a few stories about what an utterly incompetent prat the man was, stories that had even made Spike chuckle a bit.
Funny thing, but this man, the man he was spying on right now, hardly seemed anything like the bumbling oaf the Scoobies had spoken of so jeeringly. Spike almost thought it must have been another Wesley entirely who they had mocked. This one seemed...purposeful. Strong and determined for all that just enough uncertainty clung to him to tell Spike who he had once been. It reminded him uncomfortably of his own past, of the time when he’d been William, the bloody awful poet. Still, he was fascinated, despite the angst and discomfort of the attraction.
One thing was certain, when he got his body back, he was going to see about getting to know this man.