Cherchez la Femme

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Cherchez la Femme
By HW
Jac@blackplumes.freeserve.co.uk
Rating:PG-13
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I merely borrow.
Summary: Spike goes to see Angel in LA.
Author’s Note: Set after ‘I Was Made To Love You’


Technically he’d left. He’d told her he wouldn’t leave. Not unless she moved him herself. But technically the fact that he was in LA meant that he had left. He was going back though. There was no way could stay away. But he needed to talk to someone. Someone who would understand and not taunt or shout or physically abuse. Well alright he might physically abuse, but he’d probably listen too. If he didn’t stake him. And right now Spike didn’t really care if he did.

“Angel?” he called entering the foyer of the hotel. “Angel?”

There was no answer. He walked down into the main reception area and through into the office. “Angel?” He walked back through the foyer and stopped by the garden entrance, “Angel? Are you out there?” He moved up the stairs and along the main corridor, “Angel? Where are you, you bloody wanker?”

He stopped and turned around. “Bloody ridiculous,” he exclaimed. There had to be over a hundred rooms in the place. He wasn’t searching them all, just ‘cause soul boy was feeling anti-social. “ANGEL!” he roared.

Spike waited ten seconds before returning back down the main staircase and through the foyer. He was about eight steps from the door when he was thrown to the ground. “Hey, watch it!” he cried rolling over onto his back and staring up at his Sire. Angel was standing over him, stake in hand, growling furiously down at his Childe. “Spike. What are you doin’ here?”

Spike held up his hands in front of him. “I needed to talk to you, ok? I’m not lookin’ for a fight. I just… there’s no one else. I thought you might understand.” Angel stepped back and Spike pushed himself to his feet. He took a step away from Angel and the two men stared at each other for a moment. “Understand what?” Angel asked suspiciously.

“Well, it’s a bit delicate,” Spike started, moving nervously on the spot.

“You’ve got one minute to convince me you’ve got something worth talkin’ about, before I either stake you or kick your ass back to Sunnydale and let Buffy do it,” Angel interrupted, wanting Spike to get to the point so that he would leave.

Spike started to laugh, “I wish she had mate. Would’ve made my life a damn sight easier, I can tell you.”

“What are you talking about?”

Spike looked uncomfortable. He hadn’t exactly thought it would be easy, going to see Angel after what he’d done last time, and asking for advice and help because he was in love with the Slayer. Especially since said Slayer was the love of Angel’s life, but he hadn’t thought he’d get this tongue-tied either. “D’ you wanna go for a drink?” he asked, thinking that a couple of drinks of would give him a better chance at telling Angel everything.

Angel continued to look suspiciously at Spike. His Childe seemed rather nervous, something he’d never been around Angel or Angelus. He stared hard into his eyes; trying to find the spark of fire he usually saw burning brightly there. There was no spark, merely pain and a look of unwilling defeat. A part of Angel recoiled at seeing his Childe so changed. “Alright,” he said, walking backwards with his eyes still trained on the younger vampire. He collected his coat from the office and returned to find Spike staring into one of the long mirrors by the door.

“Spike?” he called breaking his Childe’s reverie.

“Yeah? We goin’ then or what?”

****

“A karaoke bar? This is how you fight evil now? You drag them in here and they beg for mercy when they hear you sing?” Spike mocked as they entered the club. Angel nodded to someone across the room and Spike stared at his Sire wide-eyed. “You do don’t you?!”

“Spike, I do not fight evil in here,” Angel growled warningly.

“You sing though!” Spike laughed out loud at Angel’s statement and ordered two beers from the bar. They collected their drinks and went to sit in one of the quieter corners of the bar with Spike still chuckling softly. “What songs?” he asked as they sat down.

“Spike, if you have a point get to it. I have better things to do,” Angel told him sounding thoroughly annoyed.

“Yeah, I heard. Wouldn’t call Darla better myself, but each to his own,” Spike said maliciously, taking a long drink from his glass.

“How do you know about Darla?”

“Dru paid me a visit. Filled me in on a few things,” Spike answered.

“You two… I mean, are you together, again?” Angel asked awkwardly. As unpleasant as things were between them now, Angel still felt a little guilt over his treatment of Spike when he had lost his soul. Especially where Drusilla was concerned.

“No, I…” Spike stopped. He still didn’t think he was drunk enough for this conversation. He finished his drink, looked briefly at Angel’s half full glass and stood. “Another?” he asked not waiting for an answer before moving to the bar.

Angel sighed. It was going to be a long night.

****

“The Shlayer… Shl, shl, sh, shhhhhh!”

Spike shushed loudly, staring with one eye into the bottom of his shot glass and moving it closer until it was covering his eye like a monocle. “Angel? Angel! My eye’s gone funny! Angel!”

Angel was giggling madly, rocking back and forth in his chair as he took another swig from his personal bottle of Scotch. He reached over and pulled Spike’s hand away from his eye.

“I’m cured!” Spike cried joyously, “I can bloody she again!” He poured another shot of vodka and raised his glass in silent salute to his Sire.

“Now where was I?” he asked after downing the alcohol.

“Buffy,” Angel reminded Spike as he stared blurry eyed across the table at his Childe.

“Right,” Spike continued, nodding vigorously, “The Shl…Sluffy.”

“Buffy,” Angel corrected.

“Little Buffs,” Spike stared sadly down into his glass. “Aw, Angel it ‘urts!”

“What hurts?”

“Loving her,” Spike murmured.

“Who?”

“Wha’?”

“Loving who hurts?”

“Her!”

“Who’s her?!”

“Buffy!!”

Angel stared blankly at Spike for a couple of minutes, while the words traveled to his intoxicated brain.

“You love Buffy?” he asked confused, not believing for a second that’s what his favourite Childe had said.

“Uh-huh,” Spike nodded, “And it ‘urts.”

Angel shook his head trying to clear it. “Can you say it all again please, I think my hearing’s gone.”

“I. Love. Buffy.”

Angel nodded.

Then he yanked Spike across the table by the front of his shirt, and held him so they were nose to nose.

“Stay away from her!”

“Oh, not you too,” Spike cried out as his face crumpled and drunken tears began to fall. “I thought you might understand.”

Angel stared at Spike in shock. Then he carefully placed him back down in his seat and poured him another drink. “Tell me.”

Spike raised his red eyes to his Sire and tried to smile. “She hates me.”

“You’ve only just figured that out?” Angel asked, the conversation rapidly sobering him up.

“I thought we were gettin’ along better, you know, but it turns out she hates me more than ever now.” Spike drank the glass of vodka down and then picked up the bottle, finishing it off with one long mouthful.

“Now, what?” Angel was still trying to get things a little clearer in his mind.

“Now she knows,” Spike answered sadly.

“She knows?” Angel exclaimed. He really couldn’t believe any of this was happening.

“I told ‘er. Actually I tied her up and threatened Dru, but I was confused. I didn’t know what to do.”
”Not that!” Angel told him wryly, trying and failing to hide his smile.

“Ha, bloody, ha! Thanks for nothin’ and goodnight,” Spike said angrily, trying to stand.

Angel pushed him back down in his seat. “What did you want me to do about it?”

Spike shook his head. “Nothin’. I don’t know. I just needed someone to talk to. They’re all treatin’ me like I’ve got the plague or somthin’. Even the Witch was nasty to me! And you know somethin’s wrong when Red gets testy.”

Angel smiled again at the image. Then he frowned across at Spike, “Not one of them was sympathetic?”

“No. I thought Giles might try to understand but ‘e…” Spike trailed off and glared at Angel’s half full bottle of Scotch. “Can I ‘ave that?” Angel nodded, thinking that Spike probably shouldn’t drink anymore, but knowing that nothing short of knocking him out was going to stop him. And Angel really wanted to hear the rest.

Spike drank from the bottle and then turned his attention back to his Sire. “Where was I?”

“Giles.”
”Right. Oh, Anya. No wait… well she might ‘ave been if the dweeb ‘and’t been there. ‘N’ Dawn. Don’t know what ‘er problem was. Bloody women!”

Angel laughed. It was impossible to stop. Here he was sitting in a karaoke bar of all things, with a man who’d tried to kill him more than once, talking about his ex-girlfriend, and the pain of loving her.

Spike glared at Angel. “It’s not bloody funny, damn you. Wha’ am I goin’ t’ do?”

Angel tried to control his laughter and answer Spike. “Well I left. That was the only way I could…”

“I’m not leaving,” Spike growled dangerously. “I’m not you. Or that other poof of ‘ers. They all leave ‘er. Well I’m not. I’m staying there until she either loves me or kills me. Can’t really decide which one would be better right now.”

“Then I don’t know how to help. I had to leave,” Angel reminded his Childe.

“No you didn’t,” Spike scorned. “You should’ve stayed with ‘er no matter wha’. No wait, you should’ve left, I’m glad you left. And the other one. Did you meet ‘im? Tall, blonde wanker?”

“I met him,” Angel snarled, remembering Buffy’s boyfriend.

Spike chuckled, “I wonder if he has that affect on everyone? Or do you think its just vampires. You know, wanting to beat the crap out of him and then pull his limbs off, before draining him dry and hacking his body into little bitty pieces!”

Angel stared at Spike, “You’ve thought too much about this.”

“Man’s got to have a hobby,” Spike defended. He snorted once and twisted his face, “And it’s not like I can do anything anyway, with this thing in my ‘ead. Do you think its been messing with m’ brain? Is that why I’m in love with ‘er?”

“Maybe,” Angel nodded, wishing he could believe that. “Or maybe you’re just growing up, changing.” He sat back in his seat. “That chip’s stopped you from killing and you’re adapting. You’re looking around to see what you’ve been missing all these years you’ve been with Dru, rampaging around the world, and you’ve started to see the real Buffy instead of the Slayer.”

Spike looked sadly up at his Sire, silently acknowledging the truth off that statement. “I need another drink.” Angel nodded again and stood, putting his arms out slightly to the sides for balance. He made his way slowly to the bar and purchased another two bottles.

****

“Just ‘cause you met the bloke! Don’t go thinkin’ you’re anythin’ special. And don’t imagine I give a damn either way, ‘cause I don’t. You’re still a bastard with stupid Nancy-boy hair.”

“Jealous much?” Angel smirked. “Oh-no, I’ve been spending far too much time with Cordelia.”

“I’m not jealous, right? I’ve met plenty of famous people in my time, killed a few important ones. And why’d I wanna meet some bloody artist anyway? Art’s your thing, not mine,” Spike protested.

“Yeah, and what’s your thing again?” Angel asked cruelly.

“Music. Can you play the piano? Can you sing? I think not,” Spike said haughtily.

Angel laughed. “Well we’re in a karaoke club. Wanna prove yourself? Or are you afraid?”

Spike stood immediately and stalked over to the stage as quickly as he could, which for a drunken vampire, was quite fast. He talked to the demon in charge, who kept shooting laughing glances at Angel across the room. Angel shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had a bad feeling about this.

****

The other club patrons stared in mute shock at the two inebriated men on the stage. The taller of the two, the brunette, couldn’t really sing a note, but at the other man’s urging he had joined him on the stage and they were now singing along loudly with the old Billy Joel song.

And when she's walkin’

She's lookin’ so fi-i-ine

And when she's talkin’

She'll say that she's mi-i-ine

She'll say I'm not so tough

Just because

I'm in love
With and uptown girl

She's been livin’ in her white bread world

As long as anyone with hot blood can

And now she's lookin’ for a downtown man

That's what I am

Uptown girl

She's my uptown girl

You know I'm in love

With an uptown girl

My uptown gi-ir-irl

They stumbled from the stage, laughing hysterically, arms around each other’s shoulders and exited the club.

They walked quickly back to Angel’s hotel, laughing and joking in a way neither had known for a long time, especially not with each other. “I miss this,” they both thought at the same time, as they continued to reminisce.

****

Spike woke up at the sound of the scream piercing the air. He jumped into a fighting stance immediately aware of his surroundings. He relaxed.

Cordelia and a young man he didn’t know, were standing in the doorway of the office, holding crosses outstretched towards him. “Spike. What are you doing here?” Cordelia asked, trying to keep the fear from her voice. The young man looked at her startled. “Spike?” He exclaimed, “As in William the Bloody?”

“The very same,” Spike told him grinning, “Sorry I don’t know who you are mate.” He sat on the edge of the desk and pulled his cigarettes out his duster pocket.

“I’m Wesley Wyndham-Price and I’m an associate of Angel’s,” Wesley told him grasping the stake tighter.

“Spike, when Angel gets here he’s goin’ to…”

“Morning,” Angel greeted, interrupting Cordelia’s threat, “Is there coffee?”

He moved past them and walked up to Spike. “Head hurt?”

“Yeah, but I’ll live.”

“Funny. Coffee?”

“Please?”

“Um, hi there! Someone want to explain why you’re playing happy families?” Cordelia asked exasperated.

“He’s harmless Cor,” Angel told her as he went to fetch the coffee.

Spike frowned, “Well I wouldn’t say that.”

Angel smiled, “Look, he’s just goin’ to be staying here a couple of days, ok, while he gets things sorted out. He’s not going to hurt you, so try and be nice.”

“Last time he almost killed you,” Cordelia reminded her boss.

“Yeah. I’m over that,” Angel replied as if that explained everything. Spike laughed and walked over to take the cup of coffee from his Sire. “Thanks mate!”

“God! Vampires,” Cordelia exclaimed, throwing her hands up in disgust. “Why do I even bother?” She sat down at the computer and ignored them. Wesley frowned worriedly at Angel, but the vampire merely shook his head gently at his friend. Wesley sighed and went to help Cordy.

“So I can stay here for a while?” Spike asked, “Just a couple of days. I need a break.”
Angel nodded, “Sure, we can even have a few more deep and meaningful conversations, if you like.”

“We don’t have to go that far,” Spike protested in horror.

His Sire chuckled softly. “Well, maybe I can give you a few pointers on how to win girls by not stalking them and tying them up.” He frowned, “Then again maybe not.”

Spike laughed. “Thanks Angel, I owe you one.”

“You owe me hundreds, boy.”

****

“It was nice to see you.”

“And you. I, uh… Thank you.”

“No problem,” Angel said, recognizing what it meant for Spike to say those words to him.

“You want me to take any messages?” Spike asked, knowing if Angel said yes, that there’d be no way for him and Buffy to be together.

“No,” Angel answered, shaking his head. “Good luck.”

Spike’s eyes widened and he stepped jerkily forward and clasped his Sire in a hesitant embrace. Angel returned the hug, glad things were right between them once more. “Call if you need me. Door’s always open,” he said softly.

Spike nodded and stepped back. “Bye Angel.”

“Bye Spike.”

The End