Title: Letters of…
Chapter: …Intent (22/27), …Desire (23/27), …Reconciliation (24/27)
Rating: PG, PG, PG
Feedback: Mys has decided that she actually likes FB, so… constructive crit is fine, just be prepared for Mys to defend/explain her choices, and try not to do any permanent damage, k.
Disclaimer: Just playing with the pretty kittens. Unfortunately, they are not mine, but I will gladly groom and bathe them before sending them back home to Daddy (aka Joss/Mutant Enemy/et al).
Warnings/Squicks: Beware Mys’ bad writing, excessive use of alliteration, wanton use of the term "Xanpet" (though I’d stake Spike before he actually said it out loud, he and my 3rd person omnipotent think it a lot), character death (but it’s canon stuff, none of my own doing)
Summary: Take a witch, a Spike, a Xander and mix well. Add some angst, some schmoop, some sex, an apocalypse, a wee bit more angst, another helping or two of sex, and a sprinkling of bad humour. Bake for 7-8 months at @96.8 degrees (because some of us have naturally lower body temperatures than the rest of you human weirdos, lol).
“Up here, Wes.”
Wesley trudged up the stairs of the old hotel that had been like a second home to him. He wasn’t entirely sure why Angel had asked him to meet him here, though he assumed it had something to do with a recently solid vamp and a formerly one-eyed Scooby. When he finally located Angel, the sight did little to answer his questions- the older vamp was busily making a bed.
“Hey, Wes, can you hand me those?” He indicated a pile of plush looking pillows by the door.
Handing over the items, “Uh, Angel, what’s going on?”
“I’m making the bed.”
“Yes, I can see that. I was wondering more about why.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Spike and Xander.”
“Right,” sighing, “one of these conversations.”
After a moment of silence Wesley continued, “Angel, you detest Spike, and now that he’s back you no longer have an obligation to Xander.”
“I know, Wes.” Angel stopped his housekeeping to look at his friend. “But you didn’t see him when he came to me about Xander. I thought I- Angelus had destroyed that part of him.”
“He has his soul now.”
“It was more than that. You didn’t know him back then, when he was still more William than Spike.”
Wesley couldn’t help but think over the last few weeks, the way Angel and Spike interacted and it didn’t make sense. “You two have been at each others’ throats, figuratively of course, since he appeared.”
The former Watcher shook his head utterly confused, “I’m not following.”
“Did you see how he was with Xander?”
“Did my best not too, quite frankly.”
Angel rolled his eyes, “That bad?”
He offered Angel a ‘you have to ask?’ look.
Cringing in sympathy, “Sorry. I appreciated your helping with this.”
“So how about some straight answers then,” he looked pointedly at the dark vamp.
“Xander’s given me a chance to reclaim part of my family, a part I thought I had destroyed even before driving them away.”
The light began to dawn on Wesley, “Ah, William.” A thought struck him, “Uh, Angel, when you say ‘reclaim’…”
That earned the younger man a leer.
“…thought not. That’s the why. Care to try the what?”
“Well didn’t I just drop them off at one of Wolfram and Hart’s ‘Executive’ hotels.”
“So why are you making preperations for them to stay here of all places?”
“Because until they are safely back in London I want them away from Wolfram and Hart and the Senior Partners as much as possible.”
“The hotel? I know my Childe and I know there’s something he wants, something that because of Wolfram and Hart I can give him.”
Spike had to laugh, they hadn’t even made it ten feet from the door.
“What’s so funny Blondie?”
“Us. What you do to me, couldn’t even getcha to the couch let alone the bed.” He chuckled and kissed the top of Xander’s head.
Xander eyed his vamp hungrily, “Don’t worry Spike, we’ll manage to get there eventually.”
Spike raised one eyebrow, “And ‘ere I thought I was the evil one.”
Pulling Spike’s face close, he gave him a domineering kiss, and muttered, “I’ve got a good teacher.”
The vamp couldn’t help but smile, Xander had that effect on him- it was as if his Pet’s happiness was contagious. “Here, luv, wanta show ya somethin’.”
Spike allowed Xander to dislodge himself and stand.
Taking his hand, Spike led them to the suite’s large bay windows. “Angel ever tell ya about the windows at Wolfram and Hart?” Spike asked as he pulled back the curtain revealing the stunning Los Angeles nightscape.
Xander shook his head and thought he’d melt at the mischievous smirk his answer brought to Spike’s face.
“Watch,” Spike commanded as he turned Xander to face the city spread out below them.
As the morning sun slowly started to brighten the sky, Xander’s concern mounted, until, “Um, Spike, sun, vamp, dustage, not of the good remember?”
“Trust me, ‘m not leaving you again Xan,” he gently kissed his lips to emphasize the point.
“’k,” Xander leaned into Spike’s strong if smaller form.
As the sun rose Spike pulled Xander to face him, “ Always wanted to see you in the sunlight.” A sad smile played on his lips. “Knew it would be the most beautiful thing on earth.”
Several debauched hours later, the couple had finally found their way to the bed- after testing the carpeting in front of the necro-tempered bay windows, the plush velvet couch, a few of the sturdier looking chairs, the elaborate oak and leather desk, and of course the ridiculously large bath received special scrutiny. Now the two lovers were wrapped snuggly around each other in a tangle of sheets, bedding, and sex.
For the second time in twenty-four hours Xander was dreaming happy dreams of Spike. This time however he let himself be drawn back to consciousness by the reality of the cool body and soft lips against his skin. Sighing contently, Xander muttered possessively, “My vamp,” as he snuggled impossibly closer into Spike’s embrace.
“Oi, ‘m the possessive one!” Spike growled with feigned indignation.
“Yeah, well, you’re also the one who got his ass dusted! I think that gives me the right to be a little possessive.” Xander punctuated his harsh words by sticking his tongue out at the vamp in the universal and timeless gesture of ‘so there’.
Spike couldn’t contain the laugh that escaped and instantly both men were giggling shamelessly.
As Spike caught his unneeded breath his eyes locked on Xander’s and he suddenly turned serious. “Pet, remember what we talked about before…?”
Automatically, Xander’s eyes darted to the already fading bite marks he’d managed to gouge into Spike’s flesh and he idly began stroking them. “Yeah.”
That one word spoke volumes to the vampire; it told of anxiety, anticipation, hope, and a hint of fear. “’ey now, none of that. I love you, ya git, and nothin’ has changed that- nothin’ ever could.”
Xander smiled into Spike’s chest.
“Jus’ wondered if you still wanted it.”
The nervousness in Spike’s voice took Xander aback, and he didn’t think twice about turning his shocked face to his vamp.
“I mean, we’re ‘ere and Peaches is…”
His shock instantly turned into one of his goofiest grins- one that seemed to make his entire body smile. “’course I still want it… if anything I want it more. I don’t think I could go through being without you again.” After pausing to kiss his love thoroughly, “I know I don’t ever want to.”
“Xan, Treasure, you’re sure? If anything happened it would probably kill whichever of us…”
“Spike, I understand. You’ve never hid what it means. And you should’ve heard the lectures I got from Wills,” he rolled his eyes heavenward at the memories. “I know what it means. I know the risks. I know I love you. I know I want to spend my life, and maybe someday my unlife, with you. So, yeah, I’m sure.”
Xander watched silently as Spike’s expression went from utterly gobsmacked to grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
He looked a right git, he knew it, but after what he just heard he couldn’t really bring himself to care. Not only did his Xanpet still want him, he still wanted to complete the Mating ritual, and he was even considering sharing an unlife with him! Spike had no intention of turning Xander, he loved the human as he was and he loved the things that made him human- made him his Xander, and Spike wouldn’t risk losing that to a demon even for the offer of eternity. There was only one thing for it… Reaching over his love he grabbed the phone and as he rolled settling onto his back he pulled Xander to him.
Xander happily complied, resting his head on Spike’s marble-esque chest as the vamp quickly dialed a number. And wasn’t it just typical of Xander that underneath the numerous emotions vying for his attention the two thoughts that remained steadfast were ‘Spike genuinely loves me’ and ‘I wonder if Spike knew Lewis Carroll?’ He vaguely registered Spike ending his conversation with a surprisingly pleasant, “Thanks, Sire.” Looking quizzically at his vamp he asked, “That good?”
Sparkling blue eyes smiled at him as their owner chuckled, “Seems the Poof’s been busy, said he’d meet us at the Hyperion after sunset.”
Xander frowned, “That means we’ve got at least six hours to kill.”
“Well, luv, guess we’ll jus’ ‘ave to find something to occupy ourselves with till then.” A mischievous and knowing smirk graced the blonde’s perfectly chiselled features.
Five minutes later and Xander’s ability for coherent thought was a thing of the past.
It was an hour or so after dark when the pair entered the old hotel’s lobby- hand in hand and still flushed from the make-out session in the cab on the way over.
“Wow,” Xander eyed the hotel’s entrance with fascination. His carpenter’s eye was drawn to the scrollwork along the staircase and ‘check-in’ desk.
“Haven’t you been ‘ere before, Pet?” Spike would be honestly surprised if the answer was no. After all, hadn’t the Sunnydale survivors taken refuge with Angel and Co?
“No, Deadboy put us up at a place near the hospital. Even if he hadn’t, I wasn’t exactly at my most observant.”
“I’m sorry, Xan.”
The human moved so that their brows rested together, but before he could speak…
A large dark figure bounded down the stairs, “Ah, good, you’re here,” turned around and vanished the way he came. “Well, come on!”
Xander looked tentatively at his vamp, “You’re sure Dru’s the crazy one?”
The younger vamp shrugged, “Well, he did make her that way. Always assumed it was the torture. Never know though, could explain a lot about the family tree- bad blood as it were.”
Chuckling, Xander and his vamp trailed after Angel’s disembodied voice.
Turning down a corridor, Spike quickly found the room his Grandsire had prepared.
Two sharp intakes of breath greeted the vampire eagerly awaiting them. The room was elaborately decorated in lush reds and rich browns; it’s centrepiece was a kingsize canopy bed draped in a deep burgundy velvet.
Angel looked smug (a very odd look for him as far as Xander was concerned), “Thought you might approve.”
“Oh, hells Peaches it’s…”
The older vamp shrugged his broad shoulders, “Well, I wouldn’t suggest opening the windows, but otherwise it’s safe.”
The newcomers looked pointedly at the dark vamp.
“The Senior Partners don’t have access. I called in some favours and let’s just say they won’t be getting it either.”
“Sire,” Spike bowed his head revelling in the sentiment Angel’s treatment conveyed.
Stepping up to his one-time-charge, he laid a hand on his shoulder, “Will, never doubt that I’m here for you. We may be like oil and water, but you will always be my Childe, my family.” The dark vamp turned to face his Childe’s intended Mate, placing his other hand on Xander’s shoulder, “And you…” Angel sighed wearily, “You I owe a dept of gratitude far greater than you can imagine. Take care of my boy.”
Spike squeezed Xander’s hand, the movement seemed to break through the heavy atmosphere.
With what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze to both men, Angel smiled, “Listen, I’ve been up here all day and need to grab a mug- you two need anything?”
Both men shook their heads.
“Make yourselves at home,” the older vamp called as he left the lovers alone.
When he returned, he found his Childe and the dark mortal nestled together on the large bed. The picture they created was nothing short of ethereal.
The lights had been dimmed giving the room a candlelit feel, both men were barefoot and bare-chested, one in impossibly tight black denim, the other in well worn almost threadbare blue jeans. Spike leaned with his back against the mahogany headboard with Xander’s dark head cradled in the crook of his neck as skilled pale hands mapped his chest.
Angel watched the scene in awe, wondering how a combonation so ill-conceived could, in reality, be so perfect.