Angel’s office had cleared out, leaving behind only Spike and Angel sitting at the large conference table. Yet there wasn’t much conferring going on. They had far more important things to attend to. Spike was currently on his fifth bourbon and blood, heavy on the bourbon, while Angel was nursing his own fourth glass of otter. It had taken them each two glasses of the ruby red before their demons gave way and took a backseat, and another two for the pair to go beyond grunts and monosyllabic exchanges. For Spike, neither the borrowed metallic tang nor the smoky molasses traces washed away the potent taste lingering on his tongue, in his throat, in his gut…

Buffy

Long after the fangs receded, his demon’s insatiable hunger still gnawed at his insides. It still demanded for him to possess Buffy in every way possible, for him to crawl deep inside her and lose himself completely—devouring her inch by glorious inch. Yet he wouldn’t follow the demon’s lead. This was one path, no matter how tantalizing the draw, he couldn’t head down. Not again. Never again.

Spike slowly felt the leash of his soul tightening, bridling the demon and dragging it back into the recesses of his mind, which finally allowed him to think beyond the lust. Blood or otherwise.

“Wanna fill me in on what the bloody hell went on down there?” Spike took another long draught of his blood and bourbon cocktail, and held the mouthful a little longer than usual before swallowing.

“I don’t exactly know. One minute I’m fighting Lindsey while Cordelia was trying to shut the whole thing down. Then the floor shifted under us and all I can see, all I can feel is something powerful down there clawing its way to get out. The next thing I know, I’m on the ground and all I can think about is the blood—Every. Single. Drop.” Angel’s focus remained on the thickening ruby red coating the sides of his glass.

“Yeah, that’s kinda how a brilliant fight goes. Well, if your doin’ it right.” Spike eyed Angel, giving him a once over. Then with a raised brow he continued, “But now that ‘m thinking about who ‘m talking to and knowin’ you’re more into the mind-fuck—nailing puppies to doors and takin’ out your newest-obsession’s family and friends one by one—then a good ol’ spot of straight up violence, I can see why you don’t understand what really gets the blood pumpin’. Yours and theirs.”

“No, that’s not it. When I was down there, I couldn’t think straight. It was like I had no control and all there was, was the demon. And the worse part, the demon wasn’t just after Lindsey. It was after Cordelia too. Even more so.” Angel whispered the last part, his gaze moving from his glass to Spike. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if she hadn’t shut it down when she did. I can’t remember a time, not even when Angelus was at his worse, when there was such…”—Angel eyes took on a faraway look, one of part shame, one part hunger—“blood lust.”

In an instant, Spike’s mind wandered to just that, when earlier he was battling his own demon…Buffy in his arms, his fangs in her throat. When she finally surrendered to him, how much he wanted her, completely. If only—

“Spike?”

Angel’s voice pulled Spike’s mind back into the present. Spike instantly knew, judging by Angel’s narrowed-eyed gaze and the deep furrowing of his five-head, that he was suspicious of what had preoccupied Spike’s mind so much so that he hadn’t said a word about Angel’s confession. And with Peaches being all Nancy Drew-like, he’d stop at nothing to figure out what Spike had no intention of sharing.

Better to take the focus off him and right quick. Plus, any chance to put this bastard through the wringer and then some, Spike never let any opportunity pass to man the crank.

“Yeah, well, not all of us have everyone fooled, including themselves, into believing and hiding behind the whole dual personality thing, do we?”

Angel tightened his grip, the glass in his hand on the verge of shattering under the pressure. “Watch it, boy.”

“What?” Spike schooled his look into one of innocence. “Just callin’ it like I see it, Angel. Or is it Angelus, you know, with the whole wanting to paint the place red with your lady love’s blood?” Spike shrugged. “See, I’m more the ‘take things a face value’ type of bloke. So enlighten me, Captain Chaos, since ‘m a little slow on the uptake here, but ‘m thinking…if it looks like a vamp and lusts for blood like a vamp, it’s a vamp, innit? No matter what you wanna call yourself or how many times you try spit-shining up that tarnished, cursed soul of yours.”

“I warned you, Willy.” Now in game face, Angel stood and knocked back his chair. In an instant, Spike mirrored Angel’s actions and they were both growling and snarling, at the ready to tear each other apart.

“Am I interrupting something?” Cordelia stood in the center of the room, arms crossed while wearing an expression of patronizing amusement.

Spike and Angel remained locked in a silent showdown, neither moving until Angel conceded and was the first to lose the fangs before he’d leaned over and picked up his chair to sit back down. Spike warily followed suit, keeping his eyes fixed on Angel the entire time.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Cordelia moved and sat at the head of the table, her eyes shifting between the two vamps. “So…Wesley’s off doing his thing, trying to figure out what kinda big bad is in the basement. You know, the same big bad that seemed to knock the three of you on your collective asses and left yours truly on hero duty.”

“Is Buffy—” Spike left his question hanging, unable to finish his thoughts afraid of what he might ask or, even more so, learning something far worse than what his own mind conjured up.

Cordelia eyed Spike, but didn’t say any more than, “She’s fine, off powdering her nose.”

Spike sensed there was a lot she wasn’t saying, and for that he was relieved. He was even more so relieved that Angel didn’t pick up on Spike’s uncertainty and Cordelia’s vague response.

The trio sat in silence for several beats before Cordelia sighed theatrically and shook her head. “Okay, so is one of you two gonna fill me in on what the hell?” Cordelia looked back and forth between them, brows raised. “Look, I’m not even asking for an explanation how Lindsey got sucked up into the ceiling by some portable portal or even about the freako shadow-puppet show going on under our feet. See, I’ve already penciled in that type of stuff on my calendar to happen every Tuesday, for like, permanently. Hello, Sunnydale alum here. Yet what I am needing an explanation for is why you guys went all The Call of the Wild down there.”

Clearly, Cordelia didn’t have a bloody clue how bad it really was down there. Or how much danger she’d truly had been in. All she saw was the surface stuff, them being unable to shake their fangs and sounding all growly. She wasn’t aware of the bone-deep hunger, or how much of the demon came through and how hard Angel fought back so she wasn’t another body on the long list of those Angel had sunk his teeth into, literally and figuratively, and left nothing behind but an empty shell.

Yet to his dismay, Buffy hadn’t fared as well. Spike was weak and she was the one who paid the price.

Feeling Cordelia’s eyes on him Spike muttered a response before he took another drink and choked it down. “And that’s the question of the hour, so it seems.”

“Well, it’s time to figure out the answer, don’tcha think?” Cordelia crossed her arms and stared down at the two vampires who were looking everywhere but her. After a few moments of silence, she followed up with, “A-hum…still waiting.”

Angel still wouldn’t look at Cordelia. Spike wagered he was too busy with the all-out, one-vamp pity-party going on in his head. And from what Angel had shared with him earlier, it must be like bloody New Year Eve at Times Square in there. And though Spike would’ve loved to join the festivities, even so much as to hang around for the countdown till the ball dropped; he was too busy trying to shut down his own guilt-ridden bash.

Yeah, good times

“Um…we don’t really know for sure, why we couldn’t control our demons.” Angel stalled a bit longer, his eyes focusing on the glass in his hands. “But whatever it is, it threw us all for a loop. I’m guessing, what was down there is really old and extremely powerful, and obviously is tuned in with and can control those of the…supernatural predispositions.”

Cordelia raised a single, well-shaped brow and scoffed, “Ph—lease, so not buying that. It seems someone, ahem you, has forgotten the woman who was part demon with mind-melting visions. And that this same woman had hung out on a higher plane for one boring-ass summer, and then was hi-jacked by some disgruntled ex-employee of the Powers that Be. I mean, if anyone has the corner market on the supernatural that would be me. And I was totally fine. You guys on the other hand…”

“Not so much.”

All eyes went directly to Buffy, who had taken up Cordelia’s previous position in the center of the room. But unlike the shapely brunette, or even a Buffy of several hours earlier, this Buffy’s presence didn’t hold the weight or the sheer power it normally does.

She looked so small and out of place. So uncomfortable in her own skin. She had her arms protectively wrapped tightly around herself as her eyes shifted around the room, never staying or focusing on one place too long. Yet it wasn’t only her overall behavior that had Spike’s stomach roiling and his soul weeping, it was her physical appearance. Her normally glowing complexion was drained of all color and what was left behind was a waxy, sickly pallor, and the distinct purplish shadows under her dull eyes and the bluish tint to her lips. She looked drawn and haunted, ever the little lost girl.

And was the one who done this to her.

Spike wanted to go to Buffy. Wanted to draw her into his arms, give her comfort and take away her pain. But since she still hadn’t even spared him a single glance and he was the sole cause and creator of her suffering, he knew his attention and touch was clearly unwelcomed on her part and certainly undeserving on his.

“Buffy, are you…” Angel stood, looking ever ready the hero to swoop in to save the girl and the day, and take his rightful place by her side. The place where Spike should be but lost all rights to the minute he hurt the girl. Again.

Yet, even as out of sorts as she was, Buffy stilled Angel’s movements and made him sit back down with a mere look. “I’m fine.” She moved closer then amended, “Actually, I’m not fine. Far from it. But the way I see it, the only way to fix this is by figuring out what the hell that was and kill it. Horribly.”

“Yeah, well, sounds like a plan but first we need to know what’s down there before we go all kamikaze mission. Agreed?” Cordelia’s gaze darted back and forth among the others.

“Agreed.” Angel answered Cordelia, but clearly all his attention was focused on Buffy as she moved to the other end of the table.

Spike watched Angel intently, only daring a brief glance at Buffy before he figured out what Angel was fixated on. Buffy’s neck. Or more specifically, the marks on her neck…his marks.

At the same time realization set it, Spike heard an enraged roar before being thrown out of his chair and pinned down on the floor by his grandsire. In an instant, Angel had become his judge, jury and executioner. Not that this role was new for Angel, yet this time, Spike welcomed Angel’s entitlement. Spike never fought back or stopped his punishment, and though his skin split and blood flowed, he felt Angel was far gentler than he deserved.

Angel showed no signs of relenting, even as Buffy and Cordelia demanded for him to stop, and it wasn’t until Buffy screamed, “Angel, I let him!”

In an instant, all stilled. Angel deflated under her words and bonelessly slid off of Spike and onto the floor. His demon retreated and all that was left was a teary-eyed man. Or a pseudo likeness of one in any case. “Buffy, you don’t…you can’t mean…”

Angel looked up imploring at Buffy as she bypassed him and went to Spike, who had shift from the floor and propped himself up against the wall.

“My stupid, stupid vampire.” Buffy knelt before Spike, and gently took his hand, giving him a soft smile. All the while tears were in her eyes.

Spike wanted so desperately to explain what he barely understood himself. Though he felt he was not worthy of it, he wanted Buffy to know how sorry he was. Any apology, he knew would sound hollow, but he still needed to try. “’m so, so sorry, sweetheart. I never meant to hurt my girl…”

Buffy silenced him by tenderly placing a chaste kiss to his swollen, split lips. She pulled back slightly, her lips softly brushing against his as she spoke, “I forgive you.”

Her mercy was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. This was the closest to heaven he’d ever be allowed to touch or taste.

They remained silent, just soaking in one another until Angel’s continuous under-breath mutterings changed to a distinctly louder announcement to the room, “I’m ending this…”

Spike felt Buffy stiffen, then he watched her rise and stand in between him and Angel. She looked prepared to do battle if need be, and it was glorious witnessing the inner-strength of his girl returning.

Gods, he loved this woman .

Angel didn’t give anyone a second glance as he headed toward the door, but he only made it part way before Cordelia moved and now stood in his way.

“So where do you think you’re going?”

“Cordelia, get out of my way.” Angel growled, his demon sliding to the forefront.

“Oh please, like that’s gonna happen. Plus the fangs, so not scary.” Cordelia crossed her arms and challenged him with a hardened glare.

Angel let his demon recede, but he still stood firm. “The only way to stop this madness is by taking that…that thing down…now.”

“Not the wisest choice, Angel.” Wesley entered the room with a fairly large book in hand, while wearing the same expression as all of the others in the room—utter exhaustion and dread.

“And why is that?” Angel stepped forward in challenge.

“If you go down there to face off what Wolfram and Hart’s had chosen as a failsafe for you, you surely will lose.” Wesley looked toward Buffy and Spike, and added, “You all will.”

 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________ Captain Chaos is actually a jab at Angel. Captain Chaos is Dom DeLuise’s character from the movie Cannonball Run. When people would get in trouble, Captain Chaos would come running in, in a cape and mask saying “Dun, dun, dunnnn” and try to save the day. It was pretty humorous. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Captain_Chaos

The Call of Wild by Jack London https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Call_of_the_Wild

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