A rendezvous with Angelus

Author: Culf

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Mutant Enemy and Joss Whedon owns it all!

Authors Note: Takes place directly after Intervention. Angel comes to town, and has a conversation with Spike. I love Spike, and think Angel is boring, but I've been surprisingly easy on him in this story. He is the lead, and I have directed no hate nor bashing towards him. I have done my best to keep him in character. Please read and review

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I don't know why I came. I just wanted to see how she was doing. If she needed me. So I came.

I don't usually feel these sort of things. I'm not emotional guy, and I do know it. Lord knows if I forget, even for a second, Cordy's there, reminding me. That's why this felt so weird. The feeling that someone needed me. I showed up at her house, knocking at her door. Her sister opened and I tried a gentle smile, knowing that I would fail miserably. She scowled at me, before telling me that I'm a bloody poof with lame hair. I was quite thrown, to be completely honest. If I didn't see the tall teenager with long, brown hair standing right before me, I could have sworn it was Spike talking! I managed to stutter a "mind your language, young misses", before I walked past her, up the stairs to Buffy's room.

"She's not there." I hear from the girl downstairs.

"Then were is she?" I ask, trying this time to go for threatening, knowing that even if that's a look I can do, it wont work on her.

"At the Magic Box, discussing the whole Spike vs. Glory issue, which I'm not allowed to be at." She pouts.

"Spike vs. Glory?" I repeat, seeing a pained expression cross her face. "What's the sit here?"

"Glory, Hell god trying to go back to hell, but needs to find the Key," another pained expression is revealed, flaring in her eyes. "to find her way back home, but it will destroy the world if she does. Therefore, she kidnapped Spike to see if she could get some information about it from him. Now, Buffy went to find out if he told Glory anything at all, and if he did, stake him." He could smell her fear when she said the words 'stake him'. Did she, the Slayers younger sister, care about Spike, the slayer of slayers? His suspicions were answered when she continued. "I really hope she didn't. He would never tell on us. He loves Buffy, and he cares about me." Where on earth did this girl get all her ideas?

"Dawn," I say. "Spike is an evil soulless vampire. He doesn't care about anyone but himself. You have to remember that."

"That's not true!" She states, her eyes getting teary. " He does care! He didn't but now he does! I know it. He is the only one who does now that mom is dead. Mom liked him, you know? She never liked you, but she liked Spike. They used to drink cocoa together. Telling stories." Tears were falling freely down her face by now. "And when I dropped by at his crypt, he used to tell me stories of his days of maiming and killing. And he never acted different around me when we discovered I wasn't real. That I'm just a ball of energy." She was screaming by now crying her eyes out, and I had given up trying to understand anything of what she said. Only one sentence stayed with me. "He loves Buffy." Dawn is still shaking uncontrollably, crying from both the loss of her mother, and for some odd reason, the potential loss of Spike when I leave. Soon, the loss of Spike wouldn't just be potential.

I break of a twig as I follow my vampire senses to a graveyard not to far away. As there are quite a lot of cementaries in Sunnydale, I'm glad Master vampires have the ability to sense their childes. In the graveyard, I don't even have to sense Spike to find him. I just break down the door on a crypt behind a statue of an angel, who for some reason, has a smashed face, like someone having thrown a punch at it in frustration and hate. That, however, isn't the only hint that this is Spike's crypt. I might be wrong, but I have this feeling that there can only be one living in the *only* crypt in the entire cementary that reeks of Jack Daniels and fags. Besides smelling of Buffy that is. That completely throws me off, but her sent also informs me that she left a couple of minutes ago. So I brace myself and walk inside. What awaits, shocks me.

Spike is resting on a tomb, all covered in bruises. His eyebrow (the one not already sporting a scar), has a large, almost closed, cut crossing it, and his chest has been sliced with a knife, not to mention burned, somehow. Every inch of his skin not black, is covered in blood and cuts. Splinters of glass is stuck in his chin, and his torso has some kind of stabbing wound, but I can't see what made it. Even I never trashed him like this when I was Angelus

A violent cough erupts from him, and I discover that he is semi-conscious.

"Buffy?" He asks. "You still here, luv?" An urge to harm him even more surfaces as I hear him call her that, and I tighten my hold on my newly made stake. A new cough makes me feel bad for considering killing someone who has no chance in hell to defend himself.

"You look like hell, William," I answer coolly. "What happened?" He flinches at the sound of my voice, and slowly sits. Seeing him like this frightens me, as I know how strong a fighter he is, and what it would take to mess him up like this.

"Angelus? Bloody hell. 'S that you, mate?" He ask, between ragged breath. I smirk inwardly. That's the William I know. Never did let go of breathing, even after what, a 140 years of not needing to. On the other hand, I never did either, and I've been dead even longer.

"The one and only, and unless you fancy a dusty ending right now, I'd like to know what happened." I tell him, letting the demon in me out for a short second. It feels good.

"Let's just call it girl problems, alright?" I hear the plea in his voice, asking me to just leave it be. But I'm not letting him off that easy. Suddenly, I remember something from Dawn's rambling.

"This girl wouldn't be a hell god searching for a key, would it?" I ask smugly, smirking at the look on his face. Of course, the look of surprise is slightly messed up by the fact that his right eye is so swollen he can't even open it. "I talked to Dawn before I came here." I reveal. Then something surprises me. The worry on Spike's face!

"Nibblet! Is she okay? She's not home alone, is she? They didn't leave her alone?" One single word goes through my mind at that moment. The only word in the world that can sum up all my thoughts. And that word is 'WHAT?'. It almost sounds like he cares. Like he worries about her. And...

"What did you call her, Spike?" Then it dawns (no pun intended), upon me. Nibblet. To nibble. He talks about her like she's a snack! And I punch him.

"Never ever call her that again, Spike," I hiss. "If you ever think of sinking your fangs into that girls neck, I'll kill you in a very slow and painful way. And that's a promise." He slowly straightens up after the punch, and again, that violent cough erupts. Wait. That's no cough. That's laughter. Pained, rasping laughter, coming from Spike, before he winces.

"What the hell are you laughing at?" I yell frustrated. Spike look at me trough one piercing blue eye and opens his mouth to speak.

"Just the bloody irony of it all, general grumpypants" he wheezes in a weak voice, his shoulders slumped and his head hanging. "This has been one hell of a day. First Monkey boy, of all people show up in my crypt and threatens me. Then I'm being captured by hobbit minions, who take me to their leader, Glory, the hell god of bad home perms, who tortures me within an inch of my unlife but do I tell? No, I don't 'cause I wouldn't want to see the little bit get hurt. Then, when I get out Ripper and the glorified brick-layer dump me at my crypt, Buffy comes to see if I ratted on her sister, and when she discovered that I didn't, she takes of, and then you come along, peaches, and get all Angelus on me because you think I would hurt Dawn. If that isn't worth a laugh, I don't know what is." I just stare at him, not sure what to say. It feels like he left out something in that little speech of his. "Now, Peaches," he continues. "Would you be a good little puppy and run back home to LA? I need to tend to all my manly wounds here, you see." He drawls in his north-London accent, and to my big surprise, I do leave. Not until a couple over hours later, I remember why I came to his crypt in the first place, and even then, I don't turn back. Whether he loves Buffy or not is no longer my business, I realize. I left, and she is too smart to have anything to do with bleach boy anyway...

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AN: REVIEW, PLEASE!!! With sugar and Spike on top! Did I keep everyone in character? Please tell me, and tell me if I should change anything.