Spike woke to find Angel standing over him, looking suitably unimpressed.

“What?” he asked tersely as he stretched out the kinks, flexing vaguely sore muscles.

“Xander.”

“Which one?” demanded Spike.  “The one who doesn’t remember me, or the one who does remember me but simply doesn’t want me anymore?”

“Is that what all this is about?  A fit of childish pique?”

“Fuck off,” Spike grumbled, turning to Xander’s side of the bed, unable to stop himself running a longing hand over the emptiness.  “What about Xander?”

“After spending an hour staring at the remains of his piano he withdrew completely.  Won’t speak, won’t focus, won’t even get pissed at me.”

“I’ll go and talk to him.”

“I think he’s past talking.”

“Then I’ll bite him, that’ll bring him around.”

Angel glanced at Spike to ascertain whether the indifference in his voice carried over into his expression.  It didn’t.  Spike was miserable.

“Why?”

“He hurt me,” Spike sighed wretchedly, “rejected me.  I wanted to hurt him back.”

“You’ve destroyed one of the few things that reminded him he loves you.  This you.  Break down that association and you’ll lose him.”

“I know,” Spike snapped.  “I know it was a stupid thing to do, I knew that even as I was doing it, but…”

“But what?” Angel asked when Spike seemed reluctant to continue.

“It felt so bloody good.  I’m not proud of myself, but it felt bloody good.”

Angel sat heavily on the end of the bed, understanding about mindless retribution on defenceless objects and sympathising with his errant grand-childe.  Didn’t stop him wishing he was anywhere but here.  He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and visibly baulked, but couldn’t help being drawn to look.  He studied himself disapprovingly, brow folding into a frown.  Spike sat up and watched in amusement: Angel and the mirror were endlessly entertaining.

“What you thinking?”

Angel scowled some more: heavy duty scowling.

“Do you ever wonder what he sees in you?”

“No.  I wonder what Buffy sees in you.  That any help?”

“I’m not what I thought.”

“Different to a photo, isn’t it?”

“I don’t like it.”

“Don’t look then.”

There was another silence as Angel looked and didn’t like.

“So…you never wonder.  What he sees in you.”

“Before or after he got crazy and stopped wanting me?”

“He wants you.”

“He wants William.”

“Give him William.”

Spike hadn’t come to any kind of decision about that, and he certainly wasn’t in the mood to discuss it.  He re-directed.

“Expect to see the soul, did you?”  Angel shrugged, but it wasn’t a convincing shrug, not if you knew the language of Angel’s shrugs and Spike did.  “How d’you know you can’t?  What did you look like without it?”

“I’m not a good person.  I’ve lost any chance I had of being one.”

Spike prodded Angel with his foot, made him turn back to him.

“It’s a mirror.  Not a judgement.”

“The judgement was made.”

“You did the right thing.”  The doubt on Angel’s face gave Spike a moment of longing for Angelus, who would accept the savage revenge he’d taken for his murdered friends and be satisfied with his work.  Whatever the cost.  “Just like I’ll be doing the right thing when I eventually tear apart the fuckers who hurt Xander.”

“I could help,” Angel offered, perking up, attitude taking a contrary swing.

“They’re mine.  When the time’s right I’ll enjoy torturing them too much to share.”

Brief nod, and Angel was staring at himself again before Spike was up and on his way to the shower.

“You think I should try something else with my hair…?”

…

Could he feel guilty and still not regret what he’d done?  Yes, evidently.

Spike went to where Xander was curled up in the white lounger, knelt alongside and coaxed him out of the tense knot he’d made himself into.

“Hello, lovely.  C’mon, Xan, come to me.”

Xander did as he was asked, responding automatically to the sense of William rather than to Spike.  Spike took his hands and Xander stared at that joining, blinking himself out of his stupor.

“You’re hurt.”

Spike’s hands, although healing fast, were still cut and bruised from the night’s destruction.

“No, I’m—”  Spike quickly did an about turn, happy to exploit this concern.  “Yes.  Yes, I’m hurt.  Will you help me?  Help your…William.”

A few more blinks and Xander was pretty much back.  He looked at the vampire sceptically.

“You’re not William.”

“I am.  He’s a part of me.  He’s here, you can feel him, can’t you?”

“You’re Spike.”

Spike leant in and kissed Xander gently; there was no protest but Spike knew that was about all he’d get.

“I love you, Xander.”

“You wrecked the piano.”

“That was your fault.”

“Why?”

“Because I say so.”

“But…”

“And because you are my Consort you will not question my decisions.  Understand?”

“I’m not your Consort.”

Spike grabbed a handful of Xander’s hair and yanked his head aside, exposing his throat.  With a snickering growl Spike ran his elongating fangs over the taut flesh.  His free hand went to Xander’s groin, judging the result of his actions, knowing how his Xander would respond within seconds.  He broke the skin, growl sliding into purr at the first taste of Xander’s blood, feeling the heat and hardness fill his palm.

“But you are my Xander.  My love,” Spike murmured against the barely broken skin as his hand massaged persuasively.  “And you want me.  You can’t help it.”

Spike felt the supreme effort it took for Xander to ease him away, and when he met the human’s gaze it was with a distinct challenge.

“You’re mine, Xander, and your Master is becoming weary of this nonsense.”

“William…”

“No.  No William.”

“I…”

“No!  You will show me due respect, and you’ll start by not mentioning William.”

The potential stand-off passed quickly, Xander submissively lowering his eyes and giving a nod.  Spike knew, didn’t know but knew, that he was being mollified and that this Xander would not give up on his William so easily, but he accepted the offered contrition.  Retrieving Spike’s hands, Xander carefully examined the deeper cuts.

“I’ll fix these up for you.  Spike.”  Xander met his eyes once more, expression so darkly provocative it was all Spike could do not to pin down his lover and help himself.  “I know you’re Spike, I know what you are to me.  I’m sorry I’m so confused.”

“We’ll make it right.  Whatever it takes.  That’s…”  Spike took a calming breath.  “That’s if you want to.”

“What else is there?”

Xander’s voice was tender but the question felt bleak.  Rational Spike held onto his control with a grip of iron as the demon screamed in protest.

“I could leave,” he explained, quietly and with a matter-of-factness that was unbelievable coming from his mouth.  “That’s what else there is.  If you can’t cope with me being here I can go.  But that takes William away too, doesn’t it?  And you don’t want that.”

He left Xander to think about that and stood, heading back to the door, picking his way through the remaining scraps of piano.

“Spike.”

Spike turned back enquiringly, now experiencing a surge of regret at the sight of his poor darling, sitting in the midst of yet another array of Spike-induced ruins.

“What, love?”

“I don’t you want you to go.  You.  Spike.”

Xander closed his eyes and shuddered.

“Xander?”

“The wind is cutting,” Xander whispered.

“Tell you what.  Come to the kitchen with me and I’ll make you something nice to warm you up.  How does that sound?”

Xander nodded, slowly unfurling and standing tall.  When he opened his eyes and fixed his stare on Spike the vampire felt the slightest roll of the power he associated with Patrick.

“Good.  Sounds good.”

“You’re so far away, Xan,” Spike said cautiously, aware of the anxiety in his voice but unable to control it.  “Come back to me.”

“I’m here,” Xander assured, and he was.  The distance seemed to evaporate and he walked through the wreckage to his partner, reaching out to hug Spike and being affectionately crushed in return.

“Don’t you think we should let Angel go home?”

A harmless enquiry but Spike felt a wave of panic at the thought.

“Not yet, love.  Put up with him for me.  I feel like you’re safer with him here,” he lied plausibly, unwilling to admit that he was scared to be left alone with Xander right now for entirely different reasons.  However fond he was of Patrick, he disliked the mystery surrounding him, and certainly didn’t feel he could cope alone with whatever he’d used to boost Xander when he’d visited.

“I see that.  Don’t like it but I see it,” Xander reluctantly agreed.  He gave Spike a gentle, unexpected kiss.  “Hands then food, how’s that?”

“Hands are fine.”

“It’s for me.  So I can’t see the damage.”

Spike nodded toward the scattered remnants that used to be the piano.

“What about this damage?”

Xander refused to look.

“We’ll clear it out later.  Did you feel better for this?”

“Yes.”

“Then it was worth it.”

“Really?”

“I was bad anyway.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“I wasn’t?”

“No.”

“Then…then you have to buy me another piano.”

“I will.”

“With your own money.”

“I’ll do that.  Get Beth to find me some more clients.  Won’t take long.”

Xander smiled and Spike’s spirits soared; Xander had expectations and Spike was bound to meet them.  Xander wasn’t going to make excuses and mollycoddle him this time, he was giving Spike the chance to take responsibility and put this right.  It struck Spike too late that he had no wish for responsibility and he thoroughly enjoyed being kept and pampered by Xander, but he was now in debt to the sum of one piano and many thousands of dollars short of the target.  But Xander was still smiling and Spike was going to agree to anything to keep that smile there, and for him.

…

“He’s calling you William again.”

“I know.”

“Fine for hours, then it’s William again.  What if he stays like this?”

Spike glared at Angel for putting unwanted thoughts into words.

“I’ll cope.”

Angel let out a snort of derision and went back to studying Xander through the window.

“He’ll make himself ill again.”

“He doesn’t get cold if he thinks the wind is warm, haven’t you noticed?  Same way as he can be hot in here but shivering if the wind is cold.”

“Call him in.”

“No.”

A long silence ensued, full of more unwanted thoughts that needed to be voiced.

“Still feel it on him?” Spike asked Angel.  “The power?  Patrick’s energy?”  Angel briskly shook his head.  “You remember yet?  Where you know him from?”

“No.  When I’m here I don’t even remember remembering him.  It’s only that you insist I said as much.”

“Are my senses better in LA?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t remember,” Spike sighed, irritated and amused at the same time.

“Come back with me tonight.  Both of you.”

Spike considered the proposal, seriously tempted.

“I doubt he’d leave here.”

“The family?”

“I d’know about that, but I know he feels safe here.  And this is where he seems to think William will find him, so…”

“Let William find him, Spike.  It’s inevitable, so you may as well let it happen while you still have some control over it.”

“What if that makes Xander worse?”

“What can be worse than loving somebody who is always longing for someone else?”

Instant recollections of Drusilla, listening to her exalt her long lost daddy, weeping for him, madly chanting Angel’s name as she climaxed with Spike deep inside her body but never quite deeply enough within her heart.  What was worse than loving somebody who longed for another?

“Losing him.”  Can live with being second best.  Done it before, I’ll do it again.  “Losing him would be worse.”

Spike joined Angel at the window and watched Xander rambling around the garden.  He seemed lost, miserable, looked so lonely…  When Xander brought up a hand to wipe tears from his face Spike was decided.

…

Spike sat on the kitchen counter and wished he had a cigarette.  A pack.  Several packs and a crate of Jack Daniels.  Monster feet; he missed his monster feet and the therapeutic qualities of grooming them, picking out the knots.

He looked toward the movement as Angel prowled into the kitchen, glaring and permanently pissed off.

“I’ll get rid of Xander and get a dog,” Spike told him, suspiciously lightly.  “I’ve always liked fur.  What was that demon Dru brought home to us in Berlin?  Waist-high, all fur and warbling.  Would’ve kept it around just to pet if she hadn’t broken it.”

“Has William agreed?”

“Oolly, Arlly, something like that.  Big green eyes and a nose like a prune.”

“Erilly.”

“Erilly,” Spike agreed.  Pause.  “He’ll do whatever it takes.  For me, for Xander.  For himself, I hope; I hope he can be selfish about it.”

“Really,” Angel responded, patently unconvinced.

“I thought about it, more than once.  Giving this body up to William so that Xander could be safe.  Happy.  Xander would be happy with William.”

Angel completed his final circuit of the room and stood in front of Spike, laying his hands on bony knees and staring into Spike’s eyes.

“I’ve never really understood.  He’s there with you, an individual entity.”

“I can’t explain how it is.”

“Can you see him?”

“Not usually, but I have.  It’s more like…”  Spike pushed off of the counter and moved behind Angel, very close so that his lips just touched the rim of his grand-sire’s ear.  “He’s here,” came the low murmur, “it’s like he’s standing here, and he talks very softly.”  Spike backed off.  “Unless I make him angry then he can be loud and painful and…everywhere.”

Angel turned to face Spike.

“Does it hurt?  The transition.  Does it hurt when you give up this body to him?”

“No.  It’s quite…peaceful.”

Angel nodded at that, visibly relieved, and they shared another long silence.

“There’s a chance I won’t come back, I suppose,” Spike eventually said, again with the suspicious lightness.  “Part of the weirdness.  Or maybe Xander wanting William will make it impossible for me to return.”

“Then don’t risk it.”

“You’ve changed your tune,” Spike said with a humourless chuckle, and Angel had the decency to look embarrassed about that.

“Are you afraid?”  Spike shrugged casually, but his face and body were tense with stress.  “I’m afraid,” Angel conceded.  “For both of us.”

“If I’m honest…  It’s not like I begrudge William the contact.  He deserves to have Xander, in whatever sense you want to take that.  But I want to come back.  This is my life and I want it.  I want Xander, my home, all the trappings.”  Spike’s head dipped as he added, quietly, “I want my family.”

Angel made a tentative approach, surprised when Spike moved willingly into an embrace.

“Childe.”

“Sire,” Spike responded as affectionately, holding onto Angel and burying his face in his neck.  Angel’s head tilted, making the offer.  “Can I?” Spike asked, awed, as ever, by the gesture.

“Drink.”

Spike knew this was Angel making their bond as strong as possible in the hope he could pull Spike back should there be any real danger of William permanently overwhelming him.  It was a declaration of love and family beyond any words that could be spoken, and Spike accepted the offer with gratitude and humility, carefully sinking his fangs into his sire’s neck and drawing slowly on the older vampire’s rich blood.  Moments later Spike willingly reciprocated, groaning and trembling as Angel bit, unusually delicately, into his throat.

Bloody lips met in a chaste farewell kiss before brows leant together.

“Come back to me, Spike.”

“Yeah.  That’s the plan.”

…

In the more comfortable setting of the living room, Angel cradled Spike in his arms for a long time, watching him fade, watching with quiet wonder as William was reborn.  William’s eyes fluttered open.  He stared at Angel during a protracted moment of adjustment.  There was recognition, fear, acceptance, finally contempt.

“William,” Angel acknowledged tenderly.

“Angelus,” came the frigid response.

Angel placed a gentle kiss on William’s forehead, feeling the shudder, no less hurtful for being expected.  When William drew away, Angel did nothing to stop him.

Always keeping a wary eye on Angel, William moved to an armchair, sat, and tried to bring his raging emotions under control.  It was Angel who spoke first.

“You know what you’re to do?  Whatever it takes to help Xander.”

“I do not need your instruction, Sir.  Alexander is always assured of my deepest affection and devotion.”

“Whatever it takes.”

“I will refuse him nothing.  He is the kindest and most deserving man I have ever encountered.  Everything I am I submit to him.”

“Submit?” Angel chuckled.  “You?  Submission was not for my William.”

“I was never your William.  Your treatment of me was abominable.  I cannot comprehend how you escaped hell when it was the most fitting location for someone of your despicable character.”

Angel’s smile faded.

“A man doesn’t have to live in hell to know it.  I have my pain, William.”

“You are most deserving of it.  You will receive neither the warmth of my forgiveness nor the comfort of my pity.”

“I’m not about to ask for either.”

“Good.  You know your place.”  William rose, rather unsteadily.  “I will attend to Xander.”

“Stay.  Talk to me for five minutes.  Just five minutes.”

“How can you possibly imagine that I have anything of worth to say to you?  I am here purely for Xander.  Do not succumb to the delusion that I tolerate your presence for any other reason.  If I had not been dazed by my arrival in this place I would have shunned your company at once.”

“I have no delusions.”

“And you will not hinder my departure?”

Angel made an open gesture in the direction of the door; William hesitated before summoning the courage to turn away from Angel and head for it.

“William.”  William stopped rigidly.  “It’s good to see you.”

William turned back and stared at Angel, eyes cold with hatred.

“If you were not somehow…necessary, I would find a way to destroy you, Angelus.”

“Another time and another place, I’d let you try,” Angel told him with a wicked grin.  “I saw past the sugar- sweet, remember?  I learnt who you really are.”

“You learnt nothing,” William replied disdainfully.  “I did not bend to your will, I bent to your arrogance.  I allowed you to perceive all that you desired; your inferior intellect prevented you from detecting the charade.”

“I’ve come a long way since then.  No charades, but after you’ve helped Xander I’ve a few party games we can play.”

“I was correct in my assumption that you have not changed.  You remain liberal with your threats.”

“No threats.  You have my word.”

“As if that is some guarantee of your good intent.”

“Don’t tell me you’re not itching to find out about my intent.  You were always such a inquisitive childe, it got you into so much trouble.  Trouble and…more.”

“You know that I will not yield to your desires, and surely you must understand the madness of pursuing…”  William took a deep breath, calmed himself, and laughed wryly at the realisation.  “You play with me, cat and mouse, and I am fool enough to provide your entertainment.”

“I missed you.”

Angel stood and took a step toward William; William backed away.

“If you value your existence you will not touch me.”

Angel’s eyes sparkled with gold at the challenge.

“You always were such fun.  Hurry back.”

“This must be sport,” William said with growing confidence.  “You would not dare lay a hand upon my person.  Despite his present disability Xander would leap to my defence.  If you know his strength you will not pursue this folly, even in speech.”

“Strength?  He’s just a man.”

A hint of a smile touched William’s mouth.

“You are no wiser with age.  The lack of intelligence would be amusing if it were not an affront to my demon’s lineage.”

Angel took another step; William knew the room well enough to speed straight to where Xander kept a small supply of stakes.  He took one and wielded it with his demon’s precision.

“I will use this.  I have Spike’s proficiency and strength, and a festering longing to destroy you.  Stay away from me.”

Angel sat back on the sofa and smiled up at William.

“Cat and mouse.  I meant no harm.”

William shocked himself by believing Angel, and the sudden relief made him feel quite light-headed.  He returned to, slumped into the armchair and took a few minutes to compose himself.  Angel studied him with curiosity, regret, he couldn’t even deny the love he felt for this chunk of his past.

“Are you all right, William?”

“I shall be perfectly well in due course.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Would you care to impale yourself upon this?” William held up the stake.

“No,” Angel chuckled.

“Then there is nothing you can do.”

“Still adjusting?”

“I accepted a statement from you as honest.  That does indeed require some adjustment.”  Angel’s chuckle broke into laughter, which only increased under the weight of William’s scowl.  “I will attend to Xander.”

Back on his feet, William returned the stake to its home.

“Think you can trust me?” Angel asked teasingly.

“I am of little consequence to you, but you would not harm Spike, and you do not wish to alienate Xander.  You cannot damage me without damaging yourself.”

“I have no wish to damage you,” Angel assured him, entirely honest now and it showed.  “I’m sorry I hurt you in the past.”

“I believe your remorse, but I will not forgive you.”

“That’s okay.  As long as you know.”

“You have become a peculiar thing, Angelus.  A creature I could find some pity for were it not for my contempt.”  William crossed to the door, took a last look back at Angel.  “You have your pain?”

“I do.”

William accepted that with a thoughtful nod.

“How…satisfactory.”

Repossession 85       Repossession Index       Repossession Notes

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