a/n- many thanks to all that have reviewed! And, as always, a huge thanks to my Beta, Kat : )


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chapter six

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When Angel shifted into game face, Spike fought the urge to change himself. Spike’s hands itched with tension; his demon was laughing manically, goading him to throw the first punch.

Angel glanced at all his broken CD’s. “Did you break my U2 CD?”

“Mighta.”

A growl rumbled from the older vampire’s chest. “Fucker.”

Under Angel’s glaring yellow eyes, Spike smashed the CD’s into smaller pieces with his Doc Martins.

“I’ve always hated you.”

Spike smiled coldly. “Ditto.”

“Before I kill you,” Angel’s voice was raspy around his incisors. “You’d better tell me what you did to her.”

Spike didn’t need to ask who ‘her’ was. “I didn’t do anythin’.”

Only years of living with Angelus enabled Spike to dodge the punch Angel aimed at his stomach. The surprise of the attack had Spike slightly off balance and Angel took Spike’s momentary distraction and threw his fist into his grandchilde’s kidney. Spike groaned but remained standing and slammed the back of his head into Angel’s jaw, sending the older vampire several feet back. Angel regained his balance and glared at Spike

“I could smell you all over her. What did you do, Spike?” Instead of waiting for an answer, Angel jumped forward and landed a hard punch to Spike’s chest and smiled with satisfaction when he heard a bone crack.

“Fuck!” Spike growled. He let his features shift to game face. He grabbed for Angel, but the older vampire quickly moved out of Spike’s range. Ignoring the pain of the shifting bone in his chest, Spike pounced and knocked Angel to the floor. Spike landed a few hits to his face before Angel kicked him off.

Angel spat blood. “What’d you do? Thrall her?”

Spike deflected a kick Angel sent to his mid section. “I did not bloody thrall the bleedin’ slayer, you stupid poofter!”

Angel crouched, dodging Spike’s fist by a hair. “Then what? Did you drug her? Knock her out? What’d you do, boy? What’d you do to get her to agree to your claim?”

Spike froze, his mouth gaping. Angel took advantage of Spike’s stunned immobility and punched him in the face. Spike quickly came to his senses and jumped back. Trying to staunch the flow of blood from his nose, he glared at Angel. “You think I claimed the slayer?! Are you completely mad?!”

Angel grinned but his eyes were thunderous. “Oh no, I don’t think you did, I know you did.”

“You’re mental. Absolutely mental. You can now officially replace Dru as the poster child for mental health.”

Angel shrugged. “Maybe. Can you blame me? Someone stealing what’s yours tends to make one a little unpredictable.” Angel kicked out Spike’s legs, sending the younger vampire sprawling to the floor.

Spike rolled before Angel’s foot was able to make its destination to his throat. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I did not claim the damned slayer!”

“I really wish you’d tell me the truth.” Angel paused, a sudden light reaching his eyes. “Maybe there is a way.” Angel stared at Spike, his voice low and deep, “Did you claim Buffy?”

Spike’s demon howled. Spike could feel the sire’s voice melting over him, forcing him to submit. “No,” he bit out.

Angel looked surprised. “No?”

“That’s what I’ve been sayin’.”

“Did she claim you?”

Spike stared at Angel aghast. “Bleedin’ hell, no!”

Angel stared at Spike, considering. “Then why could I sense you all over her?” He paused and sniffed, he frowned deeply. “And her all over you?”

Spike’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talkin’ about?”

Angel snarled. “I mean that I can sense you all over her, like some sort of claim.”

“I didn’t fuckin’ claim her,” Spike hissed.

Angel and Spike circled each other. They were both watching each other’s movements warily. Angel was silent for a long moment, eyeing Spike thoughtfully. “It’s supposed to be impossible for mates to disown each other. But you never know.” His eyes narrowed. “Did you put a spell on her? Or something else to make it seem like you have a claim on her?”

“No!” Spike snapped. “And stop using your bloody sire voice, I’m telling you the truth.”

“Sorry,” Angel said unapologetically. He swiped out his leg and caught Spike in the side with the heel of his boot.

Spike scowled. He feinted to Angel’s left then quickly shot a right hook into the older vampire’s side. “I want nothin’ to do with your damned slayer.” He brought up his forearm, blocking Angel’s fist. “All I want is to get this thing outta me, find Dru, bugger outta this town and pretend none of this ever happened.”

“You really didn’t do anything to her?”

Spike gritted his teeth. “No, you stupid ponce. If you keep using your damned sire voice -”

“You’ll do what?” Angel taunted. “Bleed on me?”

Spike snarled and leapt for Angel’s throat.

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Hours later, Giles entered Angel’s apartment to find the two vampires very bloody and bruised but sitting cordially in what was left of Angel’s living room. Angel nodded a greeting while he pressed an icepack to his swelling jaw.

“Ello, Watcher.”

Giles raised an eyebrow at the broken furniture debris that littered the apartment and a couple fist shaped gouges in the wall. “You two have everything worked out?”

Spike shrugged, tapping the end of his cigarette on Angel’s coffee table, which was miraculously still standing. “Pretty much. The ol’ poof here seems to have come ‘round.”

Giles looked at Angel. “So it’s not a claim?”

Angel frowned at the ashes Spike continued to dispose of on his table. “No. It’s not a claim. At least not any kind of claim I’ve come across. It’s different.”

“Different? How?”

Angel kicked Spike’s leg when the younger vampire leaned forward to tap his ashes on the table again. Spike rolled his eyes and brushed the ashes onto the floor. Angel sighed. “I don’t know. Once I got to actually look at it more … clearly … it’s more delicate, but stronger. It’s hard to explain.”

Giles sat on the edge of the couch. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Then what is it?”

“No bloody clue, Watcher. Some mojo those demons worked on me is my best guess.”

Giles pinned Spike with his sharp eyes. “So this isn’t a trick? Not some twisted way to get at my slayer?”

Spike groaned in frustration. “You two are like a bloody broken record. You actually think that I – the bleedin’ slayer of slayers – would purposely get myself attached to one like this? I always knew you Watcher’s weren’t that bright but really -”

“What Spike is trying to say,” Angel said loudly, interrupting what he was sure going to be a long rant. “Is that he didn’t do anything to Buffy. And I believe him.”

Giles raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Really.”

“Ever hear of the sire’s voice?”

Giles’ other eyebrow rose but this time in curiosity. “You can do that?”

Angel looked away, an unreadable shadow crossing his face. “Only to those through my direct line.”

“And you’re sure he’s telling you the truth?”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Sitting right here, you wanker.”

Giles looked at Spike speculatively. “I think I’d feel better if we put a truth spell on him.”

Spike stood abruptly, his incisors partially extended. “Now see here you bleedin’ -”

“No,” Angel said sharply and stared at Giles with hard eyes. “There is no way to get around the sire’s voice. He told me the truth. You will not be putting any spell on him. You have to trust me on this.”

A long moment passed before Giles nodded slowly. “Alright, Angel. We won’t do the truth spell. But if he tries to hurt Buffy …”

“I’ll kill him myself.”

Spike leaned against the wall and lit another cigarette, hiding the surprise he felt at Angel’s protection. “I’m still here you know.” Two pairs of eyes turned to him in annoyance. “What? Just sayin’. Kinda rude to talk like the person isn’t there, innit?”

“Where’s Buffy?” Angel asked, ignoring Spike.

Giles sighed and ran a hand over his tired face. “I sent her home. She was pretty shaken up with what happened.” He turned his gaze to Spike. “Speaking of which, I’d like to hear your take on it. I wasn’t able to get much from Buffy but maybe you have a clearer picture.”

Spike let his cigarette drop to the floor and stamped it out. Irrational anger filled him. Both his demon and soul were in cahoots on this one. What happened between him and the slayer, while an abomination and revolting (at least, that’s what he tried to convince himself) was private. It was personal and having someone actually ask him what it was like … “I don’t remember,” he said between gritted teeth.

“Surely you must remember something.”

Spike’s eyes flashed gold. “I don’t, alright. Stop bloody asking.”

Angel noticed the sudden tension in his grandchilde’s posture. “Spike -”

Spike paced; Angel’s apartment suddenly felt too crowded. “I don’t know anythin’.” He yanked Angel’s front door open and stepped out.

“Where are you going?” Angel called from inside.

“Out.” Spike said shortly before slamming the door shut behind him.

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