Disclaimer: A thought I had which came to life, that's always free.
Author's Note: This story is a play on the beginning of season 5 of Angel. Just a certain take I decided to go with, not a very serious take though, for once, and it will not be following the show much, but some familiar scenes, with my spin on them, may pop up here and there. And with that, on with the story...
Tortured bellows echoed throughout the room, leaving all present speechless as they watched what seemed to be a living human being materializing piece by piece right before their eyes.
As his full shape and form finally took hold, the solid body was left gasping in agony, bent over at the waist and trying not to pass out from the blinding pain.
He had never felt anything so excruciating before in his life, and that was saying something.
It was as if molten lava had been poured into his very veins and liquefied everything on the inside of him, leaving behind a taste of burnt flesh and seared bone in his mouth which overwhelmed his senses and made him incredibly nauseous.
Jerking his head up at the first noise he heard, a sharp gasp from some slight female to his right, he glared, incensed, around the room, his teeth bared and growing longer by the millisecond.
Taking off his glasses, as if they alone were responsible for the mind-boggling sight before him, he blinked his eyes first before they then grew wide with shock.
This could not be happening to him.
His eyes narrowed sharply as a wave of fierce fury rose up within him.
He practically spat out the name with disdain coating every, single letter.
She'd know that scream anywhere. Her little angst tortured, former lover with a massive inferiority complex. It'd been so long, too long.
Jumping up from her work desk, the young woman ran up to the closed office door and not even bothering to knock, far too excited to care about proper secretary etiquette, she flung it open, glowing as she wore a smile which stretched ear to ear.
All eyes in the room turned on her though she only had eyes for the dusty blonde standing in the middle of the room.
Managing to worm his way past the woman shaped doorstop and into the office, a young boy of about eighteen looked at the one currently holding everyone else's attention, scrutinizing him up and down with perplexed interest.
The blonde one, so christened Spike, stood still for a moment before he tilted his head to one side at an acute angle.
"Alright, her I remember 'n all, but I want a test first to prove he's mine."
"But what's the—ow! Dad, you know, the rest of me is attached to my arm!"
Pulling his son across the floor, he realized from the loud protests being shouted at him that he was, perhaps, being a bit rougher about it than he'd realized.
He came to an immediate halt and released the child who frowned, displeased at his father's thoughtlessness, his opposite hand beginning to rub his tender upper arm.
"Sorry I—I didn't mean to hurt you."
His features expressed great distress and guilt as he spoke.
He hated causing the boy pain of any kind, regardless of the reason; he'd just panicked, the desire to get his son away from…Spike had been too strong to disregard.
"Dad, you didn't hurt me—almost maimed me maybe..."
His arm forgotten about already after his little dig, he edged around his father's large frame and looked back at the man's office which housed the strange newcomer and the rest of his family.
"So—who was that?"
"Didn't sound like he was nobody when I walked in. You sure weren't looking at him like he was nobody, and you almost removed my arm from its socket getting me away from him as fast as possible. I gotta tell you, all signs point to him being somebody, Dad."
"I mean—yes, he is somebody, but what I'm saying is you don't need to worry about him. He'll be gone soon enough."
"He smells like us."
He smirked up at the tall man knowingly.
"Kid of two vampires, remember? My super snout is never wrong. He has our scent, and unless you've been a bit kinkier than I would ever want to know about on your lunch break, I think it has to have something to do with a blood relation, right?"
He dropped his head and pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt a migraine coming on, wondering if or how his day could get any worse.
"I…just—why aren't you at school…?"
"One of my professors didn't show so I decided to come here and see what was up. Smart move on my part too, from the looks of it."
He took the boy by his shoulders, holding him steady.
"I need you to listen to me very carefully. That 'somebody' in there? I do not want him anywhere near you; he is dangerous and untrustworthy. So, while I get rid of him, I need you to do me a favor and ask Quinn if you can spend the night at his place."
"I'm not really asking here, just to clarify."
"Dad you're overreacting, like usual. I don't need a babysitter."
Pulling himself out of his father's grasp and taking a step back, the teenager eyed him determinedly.
"I'm a big boy; I can take care of myself."
"You're my son and I want you safe."
"While I appreciate the protective Daddy side making an appearance, for the third time today, I think I'll pass on being treated like a five year old and make my own decisions, thanks."
Before he could say anything more he suddenly heard his own name being called out from the other side of the wide room.
"Angel? We have a situation; you better get back in here."
"You—call Quinn, alright?"
Connor was unresponsive as Angel began to walk away, leading the man to give him a stern look over his shoulder.
"I mean it Connor; I don't need any drama from you. Now do as I tell you."
Glancing up to see Connor grinning at her while holding a box of her favorite brand of chocolates, Harmony sighed.
"You're going to get us both in trouble…"
"But that's the fun part."
He waved the box up underneath her nose to ply her with the enthralling smell of coated chocolate truffles.
"I can't, I'm—I'm on a diet."
He placed the box down on top of her lunch tray and tapped the lid with one finger.
"Listen, all I need from you is a little background history on 'Blondie bear' and they're all yours."
She gazed pensively at the enticingly shinny, foil wrapped object.
"I don't think Angel…"
"Has to know you ever said anything to me. I'm not going to tell, I know you aren't going to tell, so what's the problem?"
Giggling, she snatched the box up and tore it open with sharp fingernails.
He pulled up a chair beside her and sat down, watching the sweet face of the woman grow imp like with intense concentration as she nearly inhaled two whole truffles at once.
"Mmm…I still don't know where you get these things, they taste just like the real ones used to."
"I have my ways. Now—spill, chocoholic. Who is this guy, and why is my Dad acting like a weirdo, well more than usual, around him?"
"It's sort of, kind of, a long story."
Harmony looked at Connor carefully after she'd swallowed down her treasured treats.
"A very, long story."
He didn't budge an inch and instead leaned in closer towards her, eyes gleaming vividly.