Angel (noirangel) wrote in madisonvalley, @ 2015-02-07 03:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | !closed, !completed gdoc, !log, ~2015 february, ~25 points, ~~angel (noirangel), ~~spike (bleachboy) |
Who: Angel and Spike
What: Angel's got something he wants to discuss. So does Spike.
Where: WAMM Rooftop
When: Late Friday/Early Saturday
Warnings: Discussion of vampire lore
Status: Closed/Complete
Angel had been braced for the children’s departure the first time he realized Will was here. Then when the girls appeared, he knew he couldn’t let himself get attached. It was much harder this time than the last time, when he’d been too shocked by their existences to feel much of anything else, and he knew the reason for it. Connor. It always came back to Connor. He didn’t think he was capable of doing or feeling anything without some kind of reminder of his lost son involved, and he realized now that it was going to be that way forever. Actual forever, given he’d live for an eternity barring accidents. An eternity of an empty space in his heart and soul where his child had once been. It was fine. (It was not). But it was going to be fine because he couldn’t do anything about it, anyway. He’d made sure to spend the remaining time with Will and Kathy and Kendra as best as he could, and then he’d said goodbye and made his best effort at never once mentioning or asking about his first born. He thought he did a pretty good job of it. Stoicism paid off sometimes. But at the moment, he was pushing all thoughts of children — impossible potential future ones or just barely possible lost ones — aside. He’d climbed up to his rooftop to meet with Spike so they could talk...shop, really. Angel was becoming increasingly aware that his views had been changed in going home. He’d let his guard down here and going back to the familiar and facing...God, so much...had instilled in him a deep, deep lack of trust in people. In people who were even his friends. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was that had done that, exactly, except that of course it had a little to do with Wesley’s betrayal, a little to do with Cordelia’s immediate leap into a relationship with the Groosalog, and a lot to do with the fact that he’d never really let himself trust anyone, except them. And Buffy. But even she, at least the one back home, he knew he couldn’t always trust — not with business, anyway. With Gunn and Fred...it was different. Even Lorne, who arguably knew him better in some ways than the others did...no. He couldn’t fully trust the Pylean, either. Which meant...what, exactly? He wasn’t sure. Just that he had many people he numbered among his ‘friends’ here, and a great deal more he considered acquaintances or better. It was nice. It was good. He’d do anything for them, protecting them, helping them. But he was as guarded as he’d ever been in revealing too much of himself to them. Now…God. Now he trusted -- fully, implicitly -- exactly two people in his life. And wasn’t that horrible, because they happened to be the two people he didn’t have in reality. Buffy and Spike, of course. And how annoying was it that he included the blond vampire in that? Very. The answer was very. But it didn’t make it any less true. So, with something he’d normally take to Wes, he’d contacted Spike instead. Not necessarily because he thought Spike would care very much — actually, he pretty much expected he wouldn’t — but because he knew Spike didn’t generally share his own opinion on things of the magical or demonic or otherwise paranormal and supernatural nature. And Angel was wise enough to want to bounce thoughts off of someone who wouldn’t agree with him. In those cases, he and Buffy were almost too similar, sometimes. So, perched now on the ledge with his coat drawn around him, he waited for Spike to arrive, his face an impassive mask as he let his thoughts run freely, eyes trained on the ground. *** Spike really didn't know what he'd been expecting when it had finally come to be time for Will and Darren to go back to where they rightly belonged. He'd guessed he'd sort of thought it'd be like the first time the two little boys showed up, and it was… a bit. He was relieved that they were gone, because Spike wasn't their actual parent, he didn't have the memories or… anything that was supposed to go with being their parent. But he was also probably going to miss them. The both of them. He sort of thought of the two of them as being two sides of the same coin, honestly. Darren had been… there was a lot about him that Spike liked to attribute to Buffy, of course. But Spike was also self-aware enough to realize that when it came down to it, personality wise, Darren took a lot more from Spike than was obvious unless someone knew him. He was actually a bit surprised that Angel hadn't tried to make the comparison. And, of course, Spike would have denied such a thing just because Angel was the one making this comparison. And Will was… it was harder to tell where specifically Spike came in when it came to Will, but at the same time, he didn't think it actually was. Not really. It was just that a lot more about Will was mixed and it made Spike think that there was a good chance that he and Angel had… a lot more in common than he liked to think about. The last thing he needed at the moment was for his thoughts on Angel to get any more… something. Complicated, that was for bloody sure. Speaking of Angel, though, Spike still had something he wanted to talk to the older vampire about, anyway. It involved the kids, even if they were gone now, and Connor, and how that was working out for him. Because Spike knew better than to think everything was fine and dandy with him. Sure, he went to the offices, even managed to not strangle the Watcher every time he saw him, but Spike had gotten a glimpse at not so fine that evening with Will on the roof, and he hadn't been lying when he'd said he was letting it go for the moment. That was part of the reason Spike had even agreed to this whole talk Angel wanted to have. It was a familiar path for him at this point, arriving at WAMM and taking the stairs all the way to the roof. Angel would already know he was coming, and not just because he was expecting him to, so he took his time reaching the top, instantly taking note of Angel already on the ledge. "So. What is it we're talking about this time? Meet another angel?" Spike asked, his tone not even halfway serious as he made his way over. *** "Hardly," Angel answered humorlessly, not bothering to turn yet. He'd known Spike had arrived and he was relaxed enough in his presence, he figured. The irony of the question — an obvious reference to previous ones, of course — wasn't lost on him, as part of what he wanted to bring up were distinctly not angelic new figures in town. The other part of this, of him and Spike having these conversations, was funny because no matter what, they seemed to fall into some kind of pattern. The familiarity of their location was one. The nature of their viewpoints was another. But the subtler patterns came into how they both approached the conversation... With agendas. That likely had little to do with what the other wanted. That wasn't so much a pattern as it was a consistent trap they laid for each other. How they hadn't realized it was astounding. Or — perhaps they had, and they were both too busy enjoying the attempt to outmaneuver each other to care. Angel turned his head to look at Spike then. Straight to business. There wasn’t a need, in his mind, to do otherwise. "Nothing like that, exactly. But there are...a few new vampires in town. " Which is annoying. "Which brings the total to...a lot. Especially if you include the living ones." Which he didn't, but that wasn't the point. "Come across any of them?" *** "I don't. Include the living ones. Doesn't matter what they say about the way things work where they're from, they're not vampires." Spike was pretty adamant of that fact, actually. Especially the more he learned about it.But that wasn't the most important part. Spike was more curious about the idea that they were really about to have this conversation to talk about some new vampires that showed up in town. "Haven't met a single one of them. And I can't say that I'm interested in it, either," Spike said as he crossed the roof to join Angel. That was certainly the truth. He hadn't really been interested in most of the going ons in Madison Valley. At least not if it didn't direct him, or people he knew or cared about. The vampires, however, were different because Spike couldn't really be open to other mythologies. They just didn't make any sense to him. "Unless one of them need a good staking," he added after a moment, like an afterthought. "Tell me at least one of them needs a good staking." *** Angel could only smirk slightly to himself when Spike confirmed what he already knew — Of course he didn't count the Moroi. When it came down to it, neither did Angel. Though he didn't say as much to them, when he spoke to them. Living, breathing mortality? Drinking blood was only a part of being a vampire. They got nutrients — he and Spike? Something else entirely. He wasn't too surprised, either, that Spike wasn't much interested in the other vampires. Angel was curious about them, more than anything. So far, none of them were true vampires — demons, taken human casing. The closest he'd found to himself in comportment was Mitchell, and even the poor young Irishman had to abstain completely from blood, to keep himself in control. So strange. So very different, all of them. At his comment about staking, Angel looked at Spike and nodded a bit grimly. "Actually, maybe. I don't know. I don't like not knowing. But this whole — thing, where none of them are right is messing with me. Messing with my judgment. Maybe." He sighed, shifting a little so that he was more comfortably facing the blond vampire. "Met one who'd just arrived. Old as, say, almost the Master before Buffy killed him. With human on his breath." Which had gotten to Angel more than he'd ever admit, scenting fresh human blood on a like-enough vampire. He knew, intellectually, that the living ones had volunteers and all that. He absolutely stayed nowhere near them when they were feeding. It was just...it was not good to linger on that. *** Well, that was a straight-forward answer. Except for that part where it clearly wasn't. But at least Angel was admitting to that much. He guessed he could see that, how all these vampires that clearly came from a different mythology could leave you unsure on what to do about it. Them. But Spike didn't know anything about all the other vampires and what made them different, at least not beyond the Moroi, since those seemed to be the only other "vampires" he was meeting around these parts so far. The meaning of coming across a vampire with the scent of human blood on him was pretty clear to Spike, though. Especially since it hadn't been that long ago since he'd had to deal with the issue of Lindsey McDonald making him feed from him (and, before that, before Madison Valley, there was also the issue with the First Evil). So he got it, he thought. A lot better than he thought anyone else would. "Close to as old as old Bat Face, huh? Did you ask about it, then?" Spike asked, his tone giving away the fact that he didn't think it was possible for Angel to have not asked about it. *** "No," Angel replied shortly, before considering mending it, "Not really. I didn't ask much." He hadn't, really. He'd been able to guess — deduce — from the vampire's answers, from his manner, from...whatever in order to satisfy a desire for what could have been a decent staking. "Gave him a warning and...explained the situation, a bit. He seemed like he was wise enough to understand there were things he couldn't get away with here. Still looks human, too, so he should get by." He shrugged, feigning a cavalierness he didn't feel. "I'm keeping an ear to the ground about him, for now." Which was to say that Angel maybe wanted there to be something to worry about, but he didn't honestly think there was. And that mostly caused...confusion. On the whole not-real vampires thing. All of them. “Seems like he might settle in,” he said tonelessly, glancing back out over the town. “Got chummy with other...vampires on the network.” Angel had got Buffy to show him how to make his phone alert him to certain filters and he’d followed along a conversation he’d never thought he’d ever see in his many centuries of existence. And he was, frankly, bewildered by it. *** "That's a bit disappointing. I was really looking forward to staking something." Spike didn't think that he needed to comment on the situation, such that it was. Especially as he wasn't in the business of eating people either. The fact that Angel was planning to keep an eye on this new vampire, whoever he was, didn't even surprise him. That was what Angel did, wasn't it? With WAMM and its files on everyone who didn't actually belong in this damn town. He wondered for a moment if there was a file on him -- he'd never even bothered to look to find out for sure. He didn't know if that was supposed to say something about the state of Things, as they were, but it might've been. "The vampires on the network, right. Why's that a filter on the sodding thing again? Not like I've got anything I want to talk to any of that lot about." Spike said, his words accompanied by a roll of his eyes because there wasn't any way to actually take that seriously. Just because Spike couldn't be bothered to socialize, didn't mean he didn't notice things, of course. He just didn't think most of them were worth his time, even in a making fun of people sort of way. *** "I know. And I get wind of real trouble, I'll let you know." And there didn't even need to be any kind of clarification on what 'real trouble' meant. They'd both seen enough, dealt with enough, been enough to know what he meant. And look, Angel wasn't even going to address the fact that he was promising to call Spike when something fun came along. He shrugged at Spike's question, his expression darkening a little. Angel wasn't much for other vampires either. Not now of course but he hadn't been back when he was evil, really. Not beyond his family, anyway. He'd renounced the Master and his traditional ways and aside from picking up a stray or two here or there, or making or recruiting lackeys to do the dirty work, he didn't do social. His reputation had seen to his never needing to as well. "You see one of the latest?" He asked, tone deceptively light as though this conversation was not the one he was itching to muse aloud about. It hadn't actually been one addressed only to vampires, but it'd come from one. "Some whelp going on about not understanding...change?" In the form of a man looking at another man as a lover. Something Angel genuinely couldn't fathom not understanding even -- no, especially if you'd lived as long as the vampire had claimed. 160 years. Hell, that was older than Spike! Was he supposed to believe that in all that time the vampire had never come across -- never experienced -- anything? What was the point of eternity, then? To cling to idiotic notions -- to limit yourself? *** Funnily enough, Spike didn't even think much of Angel's promise to let Spike know if something evil that needed a good killing happened to come along. Maybe it was because the last time when that bird Ruby had been in town, Angel hadn't held back from mentioning the opportunity. Maybe it was something… else. Either way, Spike was blissfully unaware. "Not understanding change." Spike echoed, and despite the fact that Spike happened to read about 85% of the posts on the network regardless of whether he actually commented on them or not, it took him a moment to try to think of the post Angel was seemingly referring to -- and that was maybe a little surprising. Since Spike hadn't expected that. "Right. Not understanding change in all his old-fashioned glory." Spike made a brief face at that. "Not that I really get how anyone lasts more than thirty years without changing a good amount." Even if Spike happened to be more fond of the 70s than might have been all right -- and he wasn't, his mindset wasn't stuck back there. He wore a coat from the decade, and his hair had been the same color for over twenty years now. But other than that, Spike was pretty adaptable to the times. For one thing, he loved the technology this century was coming up with. "Something about that one bothering you?" Spike's tone was nonchalant, because he didn't really expect this to actually be a conversation. The vampire Angel was referring to had been talking about things that Spike was pretty sure he and Angel had an unspoken agreement to just not talk about. *** Unspoken agreement or not, Angel was annoyed enough -- and had gone long enough without an outlet -- that he didn't particularly care about any kind of agreement on the topic. "It bothers me because it's incredibly stupid," he said, his voice rising a little. "That's not even change. He's talking like a -- like a sheltered choirboy. As if it didn't exist in his century. As if he'd never encountered it before. As if his kind plays by human standards. I am sick and tired of people claiming they're anything close to a real vampire when obviously they're nothing more than a child frozen in time!" He hadn't realized his voice had continued to rise as he spoke and even Angel was a little surprised at his own...well, passion about it. He loosened his grip on the ledge and took a step back, shaking his head with a slight frown. "A long life and blood don't make a vampire," he said in calmer tones. "...and it's starting to frustrate me." And the thing was, he wasn't really sure why. Except that yeah, he'd been really bothered by the post. And maybe if he tried to examine his own feelings more closely, he'd realize he was feeling...defensive. And less about himself than about...Spike. That in a lot of ways they both existed in a vacuum, the only ones of their kind, the only vampires with souls, dealing with whatever bullshit they were dealing with between themselves, and Angel was just bothered that outside of that...stupid things were being said that in a roundabout way referred to their...bullshit. If he chose to examine his feelings. *** If Angel hadn't been expecting that kind of outburst from himself, than it was more than safe to say that Spike definitely had not seen any of that coming. Not the words themselves, not the tone or his voice rising the longer he went on. The look on Spike's face said as much as he looked over at Angel. Because while he got it, that the vampire in question who managed to be stuck in his beliefs for over a century and a half was a problem for Angel, Spike had to think that there was more to the story than just that. There was pretty much always more to the story than what he said, Spike knew that. Personally, he never thought much about that sort of thing. Having beliefs. Sure, when he'd been human, he's tried to be a good man, but that wasn't something he thought could have had a root in religion. His mother, more likely. And the fact that he was just naturally such a wanker. And then he'd been turned by Dru and learned pretty on that being good wasn't for him anymore, not unless it was being good at being bad. No morals, beyond love, that was Spike. He still wasn't much interested in religion now. He didn't see the point. "That's pretty obvious," Spike commented lightly before looking away, over the town. "It's just funny to me how someone damned to hell can still find something to think they're above. Or don't understand, as if there's much to get." He had to wonder, though, if Angel was thinking about their own… weirdness. All the crap from the past they did with and to each other that they didn't talk about even with all the things that happened that made it feel like talking about it once, for the record, might save them from a good amount of the insanity. Of course, he only wondered briefly, because he knew better than to think that talking about it would ever work for the two of them. *** The look Spike gave him only confirmed to Angel that maybe he'd gone a little far and he shrugged a little, shifting uncomfortably until the younger vampire redirected his gaze to the town. Of course there was more to it. But it was...well, it was complicated. As everything that seemed to involve all of the unaddressed things between them was. Angel wasn't sure if he should say much more, but Spike's words managed to somehow bolster his feelings on the matter, and assuage his embarrassment, a bit. "...right. To have rigid beliefs like that creates...limitation. Imposes it on yourself. Which, when you're -- like us -- seems idiotic." When you were...soulless, without morals, sure, but Angel didn't only mean that. There was more to it than that and it was one of those things he wasn't always able to describe. Mythic. Important. Inexplicable. Darla was always the one who'd understood it...Angel had gone along with the depravity, but it hadn't been until Drusilla and later William that he'd really got it. In a complicated way that, yeah, was generally not a conversation he’d indulge. *** He might've found making Angel uncomfortable a little bit funny if it wasn't for the topic they seemed to be dancing around at the moment. Spike just didn't know where it was that this was going to go. He didn't think they'd even come close since the whole 50s incident and what that brought around. "Limitations are for humans. Not their fault, mostly, just the way it is." Which was more a statement of fact than anything else. They all had an expiration date, after all. And maybe vampires weren't truly immortal because there were ways to end one, but it wasn't the same in the most simple way. Yeah, he -- and Angel -- were limited by things like not going around and killing humans, or by actually having a sense of right and wrong (even if about 85% of the time, Spike just decided to ignore it depending on the situation) and all that. But what he did with whoever really wasn't one of them. "Barring some kind of dusty ending, we pretty much get to live forever, going wherever… with whoever. Let him get all tripped up in his… bullshit. I think I'll keep on doing whatever I like regardless." *** Not their fault. Well, that was true enough, Angel supposed. For all that he harbored something of an unvoiced obsession with the Shanshu Prophecy and one day earning the right to become human again, he didn't actually remember all that much about being human. It was too long ago. Limited perspective seemed perfectly viable without any reference points beyond it. A light entered his eyes when Spike went on. "Of course you will. That's kind of --" Angel cut himself off, reconsidering his answer. Kind of a comfort. Reliably...something that Angel couldn't (wouldn't) pinpoint. "-- yeah. That's...good. What I expect, anyway, your disregard for whatever other people say. Our limitations are...something else." Again. Hell. He'd somehow said too much again and now, hyper-aware of the fact, he clamped down on everything else that he was going to say and sighed heavily. He was annoyed. With himself more than anything else, but definitely, unmistakably, annoyed. *** "So nice to meet expectations." Not that Spike was taking that personally in a defensive sort of way. Mainly because it was definitely true. Spike had a habit of rebelling. He'd done it more than enough during the twenty years he and Angel had been in Europe (eighteen, if you wanted to get technical) with the other two. And then, of course, when he'd first shown up in Sunnydale and The Annoying One had been running things -- so, of course Spike had had to do something about that. He was pretty sure that teaming up with Buffy counted too. (And there was also the fact that his disregard for what other people had to say did in fact have a limit, even if Spike usually worked hard not to show it.) More important was all this talk about limitations. And what "something else" was supposed to mean. Which, Spike was sure he had a pretty good idea of what something else was supposed to mean, even if Angel didn't continue. "'Something else', huh? Guess that's one way to put it." *** "Impulse control," Angel clarified, decidedly not acknowledging how closely that answer skirted the subjects he and Spike didn't touch. Nor the irony of the words themselves. "Among other things." Reasons. The logical, rational reasons that if Angel were the type to keep lists, he'd have scores of them. Reasons like...Buffy. He frowned again, still feeling uncomfortable. He sank onto the ledge again, carefully examining Spike only when the blond vampire wasn't looking his way. "Point is, I'm getting the feeling the majority of whatever falls into this town that calls itself a vampire isn't gonna be anything resembling an interesting problem." Which was, to be honest, more disappointing than it should have been. And probably a conclusion Spike had already come to, but there it was. "And it's just...making me wonder about their mythologies. And how the concept can even exist without taking into consideration the...demon. And...everything that entails." *** Impulse control as an answer definitely warranted Spike glancing in Angel's direction, though it didn't last long by the time he mentioned there being other things. Impulse control was funny for Spike to think about, too, because he'd never really had much of any. Hell, he hadn't had any at all. At least not before the soul, and even still that mostly was on a case by case basis. And was less impulse control, more hesitation. And in the case of the things they weren't talking about, in the case of his relationship with Angel, complete and utter denial. It worked for him, really. And the longer they were in this town, the more Spike found it very necessary. For reasons. Reasons like Buffy, but that wasn't the end of it. "They're all vampire-lite is what you're saying," Spike commented, which was still disappointing, but Spike didn't know why he expected this town to suddenly get more interesting. It just didn't seem possible. Maybe he was already dead and this was hell. "Face it, mate. We're two of a kind. I don't think any of them even have a demon. Not like we do." And everything that entailed. Right, of course. Spike felt like this conversation was more than uncomfortable for the both of them, though he did his best to not actually show it. *** An eyebrow arched and he did glance at Spike then. "Vampire-lite, huh?" He actually kind of liked that. The younger vampire's phrasing was accurate enough, anyway. Described the situation pretty well. At 'two of a kind,' though, Angel's expression was a little less readable. It was no less accurate. He and Spike were, as he'd noted many times before (though never really to Spike) the only beings in their dimension and this who were, for all intents and purposes, abominations to their nature. Except that Spike had fought for his, had been...odd enough that he was capable of that, whereas Angel had had it forced upon him. And wasn't that just the beginning of their differences? Two of a kind. And not. And something...else. "No, not like we do. Even the demons here aren't exactly right," he sighed again. It wasn't a wistful sound so much as a resigned one. It wasn't like he wanted a bunch of demons to show up. Exactly. It wasn't even just restlessness. He wasn't sure what it was, but it made him...appreciate Spike. A bit. *** "Like it, do you?" Spike asked with a bit of a self-satisfied smirk as he looked at Angel in return. He didn't need to ask, since the fact that it was getting repeated at all said more than enough in Spike's opinion. And he wasn't generally in the habit of claiming that he and Angel were similar, that was for damn sure. But in this case? Yeah, they were two of a kind. Even if they weren't. And sometimes they… really weren't. And they had all those other things they were still (thankfully?) skirting around. "Bet the witches aren't right either," Spike commented then. He hadn't talked to any, but he wouldn't be surprised. There were demons who looking like humans, after all. And in Spike's mind, that was just bloody weird. "Or magic in general." *** Angel wasn't going to say 'yes, I like it.' Mostly because it was pointless as Spike had already (correctly) assumed he had. And a little because he didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Things were always going to be a little like that between them. At the mention of magic, Angel shifted uneasily. It was -- had been, he suspected, even if he adamantly refused to voice those suspicions -- foreign magic that bound his soul to him. "Definitely different," he said. "I've seen how some of them work. Lupin uses a wand -- almost seems limitless what he can do. Piper Halliwell and her sisters seem kind of close, but I don't recognize anything they've used in front of me." And while he was no expert, he did have a fair amount of knowledge about magic. And everything he'd encountered here was different. "I miss --" home "-- the familiar, sometimes," he said unexpectedly after a moment. His thoughts inevitably flickered back to Connor, and he wondered if enough time had passed yet that if he was back in his proper dimension, his grown up son would have returned. "The, uh, magic, I mean. Demons I know what to do with. Enemies. Allies. My...resources." *** The fact that Angel didn't actually reply to the question had really told Spike everything he needed to know, so he continued to smirk to himself, because he did in fact know better than to think he'd been anything other than right. Obviously, Angel was just being a prick by not giving an answer but that was fine. That was what they did, after all. Spike hadn't seen any actual magic at work here. It hadn't really been on his agenda, because he wasn't really a go around and make friends with people sort. The friends he did happen to have had fallen into his lap through someone else, or on accident. And he wasn't even surprised that Angel knew a bit about the magic around this place, not when the older vampire actually tried to keep tabs on everyone. "Your team, the way you knew them --" Spike stopped to think about it for a moment, and then added, " -- well, not exactly the way you knew them, considering where things actually are at the moment for your lot." Of course, that only led to him thinking about Sunnydale. "I almost miss the sound of a dozen teenage girls in Buffy's house. Clearly that's a sign that I've started to lose my mind again." At least he could be totally sure of what was going on -- well, other than Buffy. But that was them, he guessed. As much as he knew Buffy, he couldn't even be totally sure of that. *** "My team, yeah," Angel repeated thoughtfully. He definitely missed Cordelia, whom he hadn't seen in a long, long while. His heart tightened a moment as he remembered that she wouldn't even know about what had happened to Connor, but he pushed past the feeling and focused on the rest of his team. Fred. Even Lorne. Yeah. He missed them. He eyed Spike then, not wanting to linger too much in his own head. "Definitely sounds crazy." Buffy's house, without her mom, holding a large number of potential slayers? And...Spike? "I'd still rather you didn't go back." For...a lot of reasons. And he felt less uncomfortable admitting that again than he thought he would. Maybe because... "I'm not as sure about me." Because he was far more torn about it than he really wanted to admit and he was hyper-aware again, ready to shut down the conversation if he needed to. Because if he went back -- again -- he'd lose what he had here...again. Lose Buffy. Lose Spike, too. And he knew he didn't want that. But he'd gain -- could gain -- his son. And he also knew he did want that. *** Spike didn't say anything else about Angel's team, because he didn't think anything else needed to be said. Far as he could tell, they were a fragmented bunch. Hell, that was clear from when the second one shown up with a bone to pick with the ex-Watcher. Spike didn't know about any of the others, and after Angel's update, asking hadn't seemed important, considering. So he hadn't. And, funnily enough, he didn't really have any plans to. "It's completely crazy," Spike felt repeating that was necessary. And he gave Angel a look then at that admittance. Not the first time he'd done it, that was certain, but it was still… something for him to say it again. It was like it shouldn't be surprising, but it still was anyway. Less surprising was that Angel wanted to go back. Or maybe only half of him wanted to go back. Spike didn't care about the percentages, because he got the reasoning behind it without having to be told. You'd have to be a complete idiot to not get it. "And that manages to not surprise me in the least bit." *** Angel met his gaze steadily. He wasn't going to deny it. If death, however temporary, was his fate when he went back, then he should stay here. If Angel was gonna be here, then he wanted Spike here, too. Simple. (Except that it wasn't). He really doubted there'd be a day when things were actually simple. He frowned though, stiffening at that comment. "I'm fine," he said automatically. "I don't -- I'm not actively searching for a way back. Everything is fine." And it was, because it had to be. There wasn't much else of a choice. So all was fine. *** Spike probably held up against Angel before he had to look away, not quite uncomfortable so much as… something else. Which seemed to be the theme for the evening. This whole conversation could probably be summed up with "something else." But then he didn't know what he really expected. Thing with them were never so simple, so why should any conversation be. Even the ones that were supposed to be. Spike personally didn't think it mattered how long the two of them were in this town; this wasn't going to change. Spike couldn't help snorting in disbelief at the claim that everything was fine. "You're not actively searching for a way back, sure, I believe that. But let's not lie about things being fine. They aren't." Spike thought that maybe it was about time they got to what Spike wanted to talk about. *** “Leave it, Spike,” his tone was light, but there was a definite edge to it. “I’m not lying. Everything is going well. Aside from Veronica and Gunn acting like...like children, everything is fine. We've got the data from what happened with the kids. We've got a steady clientele. Buffy's doing okay. Nothing terrible is happening." All was normal and perfectly fine and Angel was going to let that be and dissuade Spike from trying to poke at an issue that he was not going to acknowledge. Because...if all was well and he still wasn't okay, then what the hell did that mean, anyway? *** He knew that that was supposed to be a warning. That was pretty clear to Spike in any case. He could tell inm Angel's tone. But then at the same time, Angel had to know better than to think Spike was actually going to let this sleeping dog lie. There was just… something, some feeling, that demanded he pry anyway, and ignore the warning he was given. "Nothing terrible's happening. Right. Now, I get that you want me to take you for your word and all, but I think you know a lot better than to think that I'm actually going to do that. Just not my style." The last part was said only half humourously. *** "I don't care what your style is, Spike," Angel replied, his whole body going tense. "Don't pretend like you've got some insight here -- don't pretend like it matters." A pause, "It doesn't suit you, anyway." He'd rather get a pissed off Spike who'd leave than indulge this line of thought. He, at least, was done with what he wanted to say. It didn't matter to him what else happened, and he relied on the fact that Spike would forget about it anyway. Sure, he'd be annoyed. For five minutes. Then they could both just move on. Because moving on was the point. Why didn't the blond vampire get that? More importantly -- why did he assume (know) there was more to it? *** Spike had already known he'd get that kind of response. Because there was a certain level of predictability at this point. And because it was the same kind of response he'd gotten on the roof when Will had been humming. Angel hadn't wanted to tell him what that reminded him of either, and had apparently thought Spike hadn't been serious about bringing it back up again at a later date. Well, guess what? It was a later date. "A bunch of little kids show up in town and you're going to pretend that at no point it made you think about Connor?" Spike said, completely ignoring Angel's attempt to make him mad. He was impulsive, but he wasn't that bloody impulsive. "In fact, I bet you thought about him non-stop. You're the obsessive thinking type." And saying that didn't require any kind of secret knowledge or insight. Spike felt that anyone who'd actually seen Angel after he got back to town should know as much. *** "Spike," Angel had stood, rounding on the younger vampire with a dark -- and distinctly uncomfortable -- look in his eyes. His temper flared, the mention of Connor doing what it always did, sending a rush of anguish-heartache-despair to overwhelm him before he settled on the anger. "The kids -- they...they had nothing to do with him. I'm not -- I wasn't obsessing." Except that of course he was. And he was just...biding his time, maybe, before he asked the ones who messed with it this time how they could recreate the circumstances and bring one particular impossible future child to Madison Valley. Because why hadn't Connor showed up? He didn't understand it. It was...God, it was unfair. *** Spike faced Angel full-on, not in the least bit about to back down just because the conversation took an (even more) uncomfortable turn for Angel. Spike had let it go the first time because Will was around, but Will wasn't here anymore. It was just the two of them on this roof and Spike was feeling one-track-minded enough to not be thrown off course. "Yeah, let's try that again. Only more convincing this time." It was a bit sarcastic, but not as much as Spike could be, which was in Angel's favor. If he bothered to be tell the difference that was. Spike was currently expecting the older vampire to make the attempt to hit him at least one curing this conversation. "All these impossible children showed up and the only one that didn't was the one that does exist. Except… what would you have done when he went back like all the others did? Would you take it in stride and still be trying to sell the 'everything's fine' line?" *** "It doesn't matter," he said flatly. "He's not here, has never been here, and it doesn't matter." Carefully keeping any feeling out of his voice, Angel went on, clinging onto the last tendrils of self-control he had, "Would have handled it just fine. I know what to expect in this place. I'm not -- new. Or naive. Everything is under control." And he almost believed it, too. But what he really had was the urge to punch Spike in the face for trying to talk about it now. *** "You're being naive enough if you think I'm so stupid as to believe everything is actually under control." Yeah, there was a line there that Spike was decidedly crossing because he'd made a habit for himself here. In that he didn't much regard what Angel claimed to want because Spike was sure that he knew better. Pretending that everything was in good condition was not what Angel needed, no matter how much he liked to think so. (And, was usual, there were the thoughts of why what Angel needed was even a concern of his, but Spike was going to save all of that for later.) "And it does matter. You can say it doesn't as much as you like, but that's not the truth of it. And if you can't even convince yourself of that, you don't have a chance in hell of getting me to believe it." *** There was something there. A moment of hesitation in Angel where he was asking himself -- frantically, and with increasing urgency -- why the hell did it matter to Spike? That if he was pushing the issue so much it had mean that he...cared, right? And what was that about, anyway? "When are you going to learn to listen, Spike?" He asked darkly, unable and unwilling to hold back his glare, a hand flexing into a fist subconsciously as he faced him. "You'll believe what I tell you because it's the truth." So just...leave it alone. "Don't you have your video games to get back to?" *** The easy answer was that Spike was never going to learn to listen. It wasn't really him. And especially not in cases where he was certain that he knew better -- such as this one. It didn't matter what Angel actually said. So all he did was raise an eyebrow as he he faced Angel. "'Cept for the fact that it's not." He wanted to make it very clear for Angel in refusing to take his word for it, so there'd be no doubt or uncertainty about the fact that Spike wasn't going to leave this alone. The conversation could end right this minute and Spike would be sure the bring it up the next time the opportunity presented itself. "That's supposed to end the conversation now that it's in territory you don't like, is it? I'm only half surprised." *** Oh, Spike was making it very clear and it was putting Angel on edge in a way that he had been avoiding for a very, very long time. And he was just about past his capacity to hang onto himself. "God — shut up, Spike." The smug tone, that certainty and swagger he carried was definitely beyond 'starting' to make Angel angry. "Stop poking around at things that don't concern you." He moved a healthy distance back and toward the door, though still facing the blond vampire. He didn't trust himself very much right now, and getting too near Spike would just be baiting temptation. "What do you want, anyway?" gdoc continued in comments |