Snippet the second
May. 26th, 2003 12:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
angelchickenOkay. I wrote a bit more of my S5 Angel story. You can find the first snippet here.
. Contains the casting spoiler that most people already know.
Before the drabble:
I don't actually have a title for this story. " Angel S5 story of questionable plot and minimal substance" is slightly long and unwieldy. But I will figure it out. And I am open to suggestions.
I am giving this a (current) rating of PG-13 to R just to be safe. And is it really possible to write Spike without swearing? I think not. So that it what the rating is for (at this time).
Joss told me to write fanfic. Really! He called me up and said "AngelChicken, you should write fanfic. The characters are now yours". (Wouldn't it be cool if that was true?)
Joss. ME. Blah, blah.
~~~~~~~~~~
Angel shot Spike a venomous look, but straightened up a bit nonetheless. In two strides he was at his desk, picking up a handset and punching in a quick series of numbers. Spike watched with a bored interest as Angel spoke into the phone.
"I need you up here now" he said quietly. Like Spike gave a toss as to whom Angel needed. "I really don't care about that at th-. . . Fine. I do care, but this is more important. Come to my office and bring the scroll of Aberjian as well as anything else you may have regarding Shanshu . . . Yes. The scroll- . . . Well something has come up . . . Wes. Would you please just do it . . . Of course I'll explain, just be quick." He hung up with a bit more force than necessary and turned to face Spike, regarding him with a look of absolute mistrust.
Spike broke the silence.
"If that's the way you talk to your friends, I would hate to be one of your employees. I bet you make them come in on weekends, tyrant that you are."
"What the hell is going on, Spike?" Angel bit out, ignoring the jab.
"What's the rush, Angel? I'm not going anywhere."
"But you just said-" Angel tried before Spike continued over him. "Speaking of Harris, I'm kind of curious about what happened to the Scoobie troop. Not that I care, of course, just wondering is all." He finished quickly.
"Well" Angel hedged. He didn't want to think about Buffy. He had lost so much in the spring- Connor, Cordy, World peace- he kind of wished BUffy had stayed around. He didn't particularly want to lose her, too. "Buffy-" he started, and something must have shown in his face because suddenly Spike was on his feet in a fit of temper Angel hadn't seen in years.
"She fucking didn't make it, did she? God Damn, Fucking Son of a BITCH!" Lacking anything to throw-- which was actually intentional as Angel knew far too many people who vented their anger through destruction of his property-- Spike spun around and punched the wall, leaving a sizable hole. But this didn't stop his tirade "I fucking told her to move. It was something I had to do. But nooo. She needed to have a moment. I knew what I was getting into and that stubborn, mule-headed bitch wouldn't fucking listen to me! Bloody buggering FUCK! After all of that . . ."
Spike stopped and Angel could sense the grief building. Pissed off Spike he could deal with. Grieving Spike he most assuredly could not. He had to put a stop to this, and quickly.
"Buffy's fine!" He shouted over what was becoming a very impressive string of curses.
Spike stopped short. "She's fine?" He asked, confusion lacing his words.
"Fine" Angel repeated. "She and Dawn are in Spain. She figured now that she was a relatively normal girl, it would be nice to do normal things, like reconcile with her father. And it's closer to England than California, so she can see Giles more."
"She's fine." Spike said, more to himself than to Angel.
"I see you retained some of that vampire strength." Angel commented with a nod to the newly dented wall.
"Yeah" After a quick glare at the wall, Spike scowled down at his left hand. "Problem with retaining vamp strength in a human body is that when you break your fingers punching walls it takes more than a pint of AB positive to get the bones knitting. Fucking hell, do you have an ice pack or something? This actually kind of smarts." He had a perplexed look, like he didn't understand how he couldn't will his hand to heal.
Angel watched as he tried flexing his fingers a few times and did his best not to smirk at the grumbled curses he could hear Spike mutter under his breath (and Spike now had breath. In the eternal mindfuck that was his unlife, this was up there with Connor and saving puppies).
He started to get lost in thoughts of Connor and what he may have been doing, which it why he was surprised (and no, he did not jump, he just readjusted his footing) when Spike was suddenly in his face glaring holy water dipped stakes at him.
"And speaking of smarts. . . " Spike continued "What the hell is wrong with you, you Great Bleeding Ponce? I ask you what happened to the Sunnydale group and as soon as you say Buffy's name you get a look like the government just issued immediate cease and desist orders to the entire hair care industry. Are you absolutly out of your skull?"
"Huh?" was the intelligent reply. Oh good. He was back to single syllables.
"Buffy! You couldn't have started out with 'She and Dawn are doing swell' and then settled into a brood? Save me the broken fingers?" he said, waving his left hand in Angel's face and wincing. "Ice?"
Angel shoved Spike away and moved to the fridge in the corner of his office. He grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer and winged it at Spike.
"Oh, that's mature. Are you going to start calling me names next, you Neanderthal?"
Angel grabbed Spike by the shirt and pushed him roughly into a chair. He stood looming over the smaller man which, unfortunately, did nothing to intimidate Spike. If anything, he looked amused.
"How did you get in here?" was the first question.
"Well, I walked in. On my own two feet." He gestured to his feet, like they would explain everything.
Angel glanced down and had to do a double take. "Are you wearing . . . trainers?"
Now Spike looked sheepish. "Well I had to steal something for my feet. And since I was in the middle of burglarizing a ridiculously overpriced used clothing store, I couldn't really take the time to look around. Had to get in and out quickly. Besides, I didn't fancy breaking in new boots when I didn't know how long I was going to be walking around. I didn't want to get blisters." he ended defiantly, daring Angel to say anything.
Angel snickered, but then remembered he had a now human Spike in his office and sobered up quickly. He sat on the coffee table in front of Spike's chair and tired to will some seriousness into Spike.
"You just walked in?" he asked.
"Was I not clear?" Spike replied. Lovely. Apparently the sarcasm was an inherent Spike trait and not just a vampire thing.
"And security didn't try to stop you? Or any of the check points? Nobody asked who you were? Karen just ushered you into my office and said 'Here strange man. Have a seat in my employer's office. I'm sure he won't mind, what with his heading up an evil law firm and having no enemies.'" He could do sarcasm, too.
"Well, your receptionist- Karen did you say?- did seem to want some answers, but I was able to charm her into letting me in, no questions asked. And it helped that that Lilah bird had my back."
"Of course. Lilah. I'm going to kill her!" He paused. "More." He added, satisfied.
"More? You mean she's dead? Christ, I would have caught that if I'd still been a vamp. How utterly annoying. You take the heightened senses for granted, you know?" Spike seemed to slip into a deep funk.
Angel stared at him thinking he had more personalities than Sybil. He decided to tell Spike as much.
"You know, you have more personalities than Sybil." He stated.
Spike smirked. "Keeps me interesting, yeah?"
Angel was about to deny, deny, deny, when there was a knock at the door and Wesley came in carrying what looked like the unedited first draft of "War and Peace".
"I'm going to kill your girlfriend." Angel said in greeting.
Wes stopped and looked up, confused. "She's already dead. And she's not my girlfrend."
"Semantics." Angel waved his hand like he was batting the issue away. "Thanks for coming up so quickly" he glanced at Spike.
Wesley followed his eyes to Spike and nearly dropped the papers. "Angel. Are you aware of the fact that William the Bloody is in your office?"
"Thanks, Wes. There's a reason you're the smart one. Spike's here because he wants a job."
Spike grinned and tried to look endearing. Wes looked absolutely appalled. "I can assure you, Spike, that we do not in any way employ vampires. Especially vampires with a history as violent as yours."
Spike's grin shifted into a smirk and he slowly let his gaze drift from Wesley to Angel, who was also smirking, though trying to hide it.
"Well, obviously Angel is the exception" Wes backpedaled. "He is ensouled."
"Why is it" Spike asked "that I seem to bring out the watcher in any and all Englishmen? Red said you were all 'Dirty Hairy' these days yet you seem more Queen Vicki to me. And if you know so much about me, why aren't you cowering in fear or wetting yourself or something? Seems only right."
"Terribly sorry." Wes replied in the driest of tones. "Heaven forbid I insult a man who earned his moniker by driving railroad spikes through people's skulls. Oh, the guilt. And I was under the impression that you were rendered incapable of harming humans. So why is it I should be afraid?"
Spike stood (cringing as he hit his injured hand against the chair's armrest) but before he could defend himself Wes spoke again.
"Hold on. Aren't you dead?" he accused.
Angel and Spike both rolled their eyes and sighed and then noticed each other with matching looks of horror. Wes laughed out loud at the family resemblance.
Spike opened his mouth to reply, but Angel cut in, not really wanting to witness the two men (and there was that mindfuck again) going at each other like rival frat boys. "Spike's human. Alive."
The realization hit Wes and he looked from the pile of papers still in his hand to Angel, finally resting his gaze on Spike.
"You might have mentioned that Spike had a soul" he said to Angel, though his eyes never left Spike, who started to fidget under the scrutiny.
"Yeah, well, I didn't think it was important. Buffy told me he died fighting the First."
"Yes. Because your family has a spectacular history of staying dead." Wesley muttered, but the other men heard. Spike smiled and was about to voice his agreement but Angel cut him off before he could speak.
"I agree that it is certainly something worth discussing- Now. And it will be discussed in great detail. But first" he rounded on Spike "You said you would tell me everything. So talk."
. Contains the casting spoiler that most people already know.
Before the drabble:
I don't actually have a title for this story. " Angel S5 story of questionable plot and minimal substance" is slightly long and unwieldy. But I will figure it out. And I am open to suggestions.
I am giving this a (current) rating of PG-13 to R just to be safe. And is it really possible to write Spike without swearing? I think not. So that it what the rating is for (at this time).
Joss told me to write fanfic. Really! He called me up and said "AngelChicken, you should write fanfic. The characters are now yours". (Wouldn't it be cool if that was true?)
Joss. ME. Blah, blah.
~~~~~~~~~~
Angel shot Spike a venomous look, but straightened up a bit nonetheless. In two strides he was at his desk, picking up a handset and punching in a quick series of numbers. Spike watched with a bored interest as Angel spoke into the phone.
"I need you up here now" he said quietly. Like Spike gave a toss as to whom Angel needed. "I really don't care about that at th-. . . Fine. I do care, but this is more important. Come to my office and bring the scroll of Aberjian as well as anything else you may have regarding Shanshu . . . Yes. The scroll- . . . Well something has come up . . . Wes. Would you please just do it . . . Of course I'll explain, just be quick." He hung up with a bit more force than necessary and turned to face Spike, regarding him with a look of absolute mistrust.
Spike broke the silence.
"If that's the way you talk to your friends, I would hate to be one of your employees. I bet you make them come in on weekends, tyrant that you are."
"What the hell is going on, Spike?" Angel bit out, ignoring the jab.
"What's the rush, Angel? I'm not going anywhere."
"But you just said-" Angel tried before Spike continued over him. "Speaking of Harris, I'm kind of curious about what happened to the Scoobie troop. Not that I care, of course, just wondering is all." He finished quickly.
"Well" Angel hedged. He didn't want to think about Buffy. He had lost so much in the spring- Connor, Cordy, World peace- he kind of wished BUffy had stayed around. He didn't particularly want to lose her, too. "Buffy-" he started, and something must have shown in his face because suddenly Spike was on his feet in a fit of temper Angel hadn't seen in years.
"She fucking didn't make it, did she? God Damn, Fucking Son of a BITCH!" Lacking anything to throw-- which was actually intentional as Angel knew far too many people who vented their anger through destruction of his property-- Spike spun around and punched the wall, leaving a sizable hole. But this didn't stop his tirade "I fucking told her to move. It was something I had to do. But nooo. She needed to have a moment. I knew what I was getting into and that stubborn, mule-headed bitch wouldn't fucking listen to me! Bloody buggering FUCK! After all of that . . ."
Spike stopped and Angel could sense the grief building. Pissed off Spike he could deal with. Grieving Spike he most assuredly could not. He had to put a stop to this, and quickly.
"Buffy's fine!" He shouted over what was becoming a very impressive string of curses.
Spike stopped short. "She's fine?" He asked, confusion lacing his words.
"Fine" Angel repeated. "She and Dawn are in Spain. She figured now that she was a relatively normal girl, it would be nice to do normal things, like reconcile with her father. And it's closer to England than California, so she can see Giles more."
"She's fine." Spike said, more to himself than to Angel.
"I see you retained some of that vampire strength." Angel commented with a nod to the newly dented wall.
"Yeah" After a quick glare at the wall, Spike scowled down at his left hand. "Problem with retaining vamp strength in a human body is that when you break your fingers punching walls it takes more than a pint of AB positive to get the bones knitting. Fucking hell, do you have an ice pack or something? This actually kind of smarts." He had a perplexed look, like he didn't understand how he couldn't will his hand to heal.
Angel watched as he tried flexing his fingers a few times and did his best not to smirk at the grumbled curses he could hear Spike mutter under his breath (and Spike now had breath. In the eternal mindfuck that was his unlife, this was up there with Connor and saving puppies).
He started to get lost in thoughts of Connor and what he may have been doing, which it why he was surprised (and no, he did not jump, he just readjusted his footing) when Spike was suddenly in his face glaring holy water dipped stakes at him.
"And speaking of smarts. . . " Spike continued "What the hell is wrong with you, you Great Bleeding Ponce? I ask you what happened to the Sunnydale group and as soon as you say Buffy's name you get a look like the government just issued immediate cease and desist orders to the entire hair care industry. Are you absolutly out of your skull?"
"Huh?" was the intelligent reply. Oh good. He was back to single syllables.
"Buffy! You couldn't have started out with 'She and Dawn are doing swell' and then settled into a brood? Save me the broken fingers?" he said, waving his left hand in Angel's face and wincing. "Ice?"
Angel shoved Spike away and moved to the fridge in the corner of his office. He grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer and winged it at Spike.
"Oh, that's mature. Are you going to start calling me names next, you Neanderthal?"
Angel grabbed Spike by the shirt and pushed him roughly into a chair. He stood looming over the smaller man which, unfortunately, did nothing to intimidate Spike. If anything, he looked amused.
"How did you get in here?" was the first question.
"Well, I walked in. On my own two feet." He gestured to his feet, like they would explain everything.
Angel glanced down and had to do a double take. "Are you wearing . . . trainers?"
Now Spike looked sheepish. "Well I had to steal something for my feet. And since I was in the middle of burglarizing a ridiculously overpriced used clothing store, I couldn't really take the time to look around. Had to get in and out quickly. Besides, I didn't fancy breaking in new boots when I didn't know how long I was going to be walking around. I didn't want to get blisters." he ended defiantly, daring Angel to say anything.
Angel snickered, but then remembered he had a now human Spike in his office and sobered up quickly. He sat on the coffee table in front of Spike's chair and tired to will some seriousness into Spike.
"You just walked in?" he asked.
"Was I not clear?" Spike replied. Lovely. Apparently the sarcasm was an inherent Spike trait and not just a vampire thing.
"And security didn't try to stop you? Or any of the check points? Nobody asked who you were? Karen just ushered you into my office and said 'Here strange man. Have a seat in my employer's office. I'm sure he won't mind, what with his heading up an evil law firm and having no enemies.'" He could do sarcasm, too.
"Well, your receptionist- Karen did you say?- did seem to want some answers, but I was able to charm her into letting me in, no questions asked. And it helped that that Lilah bird had my back."
"Of course. Lilah. I'm going to kill her!" He paused. "More." He added, satisfied.
"More? You mean she's dead? Christ, I would have caught that if I'd still been a vamp. How utterly annoying. You take the heightened senses for granted, you know?" Spike seemed to slip into a deep funk.
Angel stared at him thinking he had more personalities than Sybil. He decided to tell Spike as much.
"You know, you have more personalities than Sybil." He stated.
Spike smirked. "Keeps me interesting, yeah?"
Angel was about to deny, deny, deny, when there was a knock at the door and Wesley came in carrying what looked like the unedited first draft of "War and Peace".
"I'm going to kill your girlfriend." Angel said in greeting.
Wes stopped and looked up, confused. "She's already dead. And she's not my girlfrend."
"Semantics." Angel waved his hand like he was batting the issue away. "Thanks for coming up so quickly" he glanced at Spike.
Wesley followed his eyes to Spike and nearly dropped the papers. "Angel. Are you aware of the fact that William the Bloody is in your office?"
"Thanks, Wes. There's a reason you're the smart one. Spike's here because he wants a job."
Spike grinned and tried to look endearing. Wes looked absolutely appalled. "I can assure you, Spike, that we do not in any way employ vampires. Especially vampires with a history as violent as yours."
Spike's grin shifted into a smirk and he slowly let his gaze drift from Wesley to Angel, who was also smirking, though trying to hide it.
"Well, obviously Angel is the exception" Wes backpedaled. "He is ensouled."
"Why is it" Spike asked "that I seem to bring out the watcher in any and all Englishmen? Red said you were all 'Dirty Hairy' these days yet you seem more Queen Vicki to me. And if you know so much about me, why aren't you cowering in fear or wetting yourself or something? Seems only right."
"Terribly sorry." Wes replied in the driest of tones. "Heaven forbid I insult a man who earned his moniker by driving railroad spikes through people's skulls. Oh, the guilt. And I was under the impression that you were rendered incapable of harming humans. So why is it I should be afraid?"
Spike stood (cringing as he hit his injured hand against the chair's armrest) but before he could defend himself Wes spoke again.
"Hold on. Aren't you dead?" he accused.
Angel and Spike both rolled their eyes and sighed and then noticed each other with matching looks of horror. Wes laughed out loud at the family resemblance.
Spike opened his mouth to reply, but Angel cut in, not really wanting to witness the two men (and there was that mindfuck again) going at each other like rival frat boys. "Spike's human. Alive."
The realization hit Wes and he looked from the pile of papers still in his hand to Angel, finally resting his gaze on Spike.
"You might have mentioned that Spike had a soul" he said to Angel, though his eyes never left Spike, who started to fidget under the scrutiny.
"Yeah, well, I didn't think it was important. Buffy told me he died fighting the First."
"Yes. Because your family has a spectacular history of staying dead." Wesley muttered, but the other men heard. Spike smiled and was about to voice his agreement but Angel cut him off before he could speak.
"I agree that it is certainly something worth discussing- Now. And it will be discussed in great detail. But first" he rounded on Spike "You said you would tell me everything. So talk."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-05-26 11:39 am (UTC)And I love this exchange - "I'm going to kill your girlfriend." Angel said in greeting.
Wes stopped and looked up, confused. "She's already dead. Amd she's not my girlfrend."
Keep it coming!
no subject
Date: 2003-05-26 02:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-26 02:13 pm (UTC)Please tell me now if it's going to end up getting slashy between Spike & Angel, before I get too invested to turn back. Because I won't forgive you if that happens.
no subject
Date: 2003-05-26 02:21 pm (UTC)And thank you so much for the compliment. This is fun!
no subject
Date: 2003-05-26 02:24 pm (UTC)Keep it up and you might have to be the first featured new writer at DL (whenever I get around to doing that).
no subject
Date: 2003-05-26 04:45 pm (UTC)And speaking of DL. . .
I think I am doing fine. I am dealing with the terrible tragedy that is the *sob* death of Spike. When I decide to visit the DL site and poke around some of "War". And what do I see? A heartbreaking Spike page. Right there. Blammo. Needless to say, I was a mess afterwords (hey, look! I said it anyway). Beautifully done.
no subject
Date: 2003-05-27 12:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-27 01:10 pm (UTC)