He could sense him before he even entered the club, the hairs of his nape bristling in recognition. He would have to show up now of all times, when he wanted it the most and needed it not at all. It wasn't as though he intended to be here long, just get the talisman and get it to the Slayer; job done.
Spike crushed disappointment as Angel deliberately walked away from him towards a table on the other side of the room. He lit a smoke and looked everywhere but at him. Maybe he could pull this of without a floor show and leave with his dignity intact.
Angel's POV
Angel watched Spike through narrowed eyes. There was nothing wrong with his vision, and he didn't miss a thing. In truth he wanted Spike in any of his incarnations. He'd seen them all come and go, some ludicrous and some downright scary, but none as defining and enduring as Billy Idol reinvented.
Even from where he was sitting he could see the slash of kohl and the glint of rings in eyebrow and ears and he remembered the mirrored sneer on Billy's face as they'd stood side by side to perfect the look; but he'd never captured Spike's charisma.
He fought the urge to ricochet from his seat at the sight of gel free hair, curling slightly trying to be spirals and just begging to be ruffled .. and gripped whilst he held on for dear life and this was getting him precisely nowhere. Yet his seer had brought this present tied up with pretty string and he'd snatched it without reading the gift tag.
Spike's POV
If he was going to ignore him the least he could do was look the other way.
That stare could break a vampire's concentration. Spike fingered his brow ring and hoped it was cue enough for the demon who was meant to meet him. It was a while since he'd gone to town with the 'Rebel Yell' look and he couldn't truly say he was comfortable with it. Still, the job was the job and he'd sworn he'd get it done. Movement at the side of him turned his head and a pretty girl stood and smiled.
"Hey."
"Hello."
"So you wanna dance?"
It wouldn't hurt to be seen so he nodded and led her to the dance floor.
Angel's POV
Angel's stone face gave away emotion without expression; if anyone cared to explore it. Impatient at it's attempted escape he signalled a waiter for a drink and surrounded himself in a wall of indifference. He told himself he was here for the mission yet song broke through the thunder in his ears and his eyes were pulled back to Spike despite himself.
And your skin, oh yeah your skin and bones
Turn into something beautiful
D'you know?
For you I bleed myself dry
For you I bleed myself dry
He didn't know who sang it, but in the moment his eyes locked onto Spike's, it didn't matter, he might just as well sing it himself.
Spike's POV
Suddenly the girl in his arms felt like excess baggage and Spike extricated himself with his usual charm. He needed another drink and it wasn't until he sat back down that he realised he already had one. He checked his watch and ignored Angel some more and lit another smoke for something to do.
The place was teaming and all he knew was that the demon would show. It had to repay a debt and who could believe a demon would pay up for a Slayer? He felt movement walk towards him and looked up with an expectant frown. Only passers-by, nothing or no one to get excited about. To hell with this, he was tired of waiting and who did he expect anyway? Time for a walk around.
Angel's POV
Should have sent the others, they wouldn't have wanted to follow him, not for the same reasons anyway. He just needed to remember to cut in at the right time, save Spike's ass for the greater good and then it was just another piece of history. Eyes followed the platinum blond head and none so close as Angel's. He riled at their gaze but couldn't in truth blame them, he'd have to tear out his own before he could drag his eyes away.
There it was, a purposeful stride, in his line of vision and then in Spike's face. Time to move and he was out of his chair in an eye blink, eating up floor in his quest to be at Spike's side. The demon was tall, and much wider than Angel, but it had to follow the rules. It may break promises all the time but it couldn't break the lore. Spike was looking at it in disgust and preparing himself for the fight and Angel smiled at the familiarity and the strangeness of it all.
Spike's POV.
The demon looked at him much like the Witch about to devour a handful of peanut butter m&ms.
"Get lost git, that was not a part of the bargain. Pay up or prepare to fight for your life."
"You want the talisman, you have to enter into the spirit of things, now I claim my dance."
Spike saw movement walk towards him and swung his head with a snarl.
"I counteract that claim and re-stake my own. Get lost slime bucket he belongs to me."
Spike felt his toes curl and his cock twitch at the sound of Angel's words. What the hell was he playing at? But Angel's arms were encircling him, soothing clenched muscles, and he was drawn into his embrace. He looked at the back of the retreating demon and thought briefly of the talisman. Angel held up a shining object and placed it into his upturned palm.
"Job done Spike, but I still claim my dance."
He pulled him closer, one hand sliding down his back and over his ass. Spike hadn't forgotten how well they fitted, his head sliding perfectly under his chin. It was easy to move with the music, a slow number that melted into the background as they melted into each other. He swayed with him, not understanding, and not really caring how they had come to this; a momentary lapse of reason he could live with.
Angel's POV.
This was showering and then sinking into a freshly made bed. It was getting inside before sunrise and drinking the blood of a Slayer. It was fucking in a rainstorm and surviving a stake. It was living and breathing to a demon undead, and how could he let this go again? This cool, hard body that he missed and coveted so much; pressed against him as though there was no more room in the world.
They moved and they were the music, thigh sliding on hip, hands roving over flesh and kisses caressing lips. Fingers sinking into hair that begged to be stroked, and oxygen stolen, unused. This was why he'd come when he could have sent the others; they wouldn't have enjoyed the prize or been enjoyed nearly so much.
Spike's POV.
Touches that lingered made him yield unbending stance, and kisses replaced skin with fire. They swayed without thought, simply generated the strains, and then the music was replaced with another. Eyes found his at last, filled with torment, without shield. Eyes spitting words by the Red Hot Chilli Peppers as hard length joined with his own.
Scar tissue that I wish you saw
Sarcastic mister know it all
Close your eyes and I'll kiss you 'cause
With the birds I share
With the birds I share
This lonely view.
Spike closed his eyes and this kiss was surprisingly warm, possessing and giving in turns. He covered the hands that crept to his hips bringing welcome punishment, biting in to bone to take him along for the ride. They were jostled by another, rude interruption an awakening, this wasn't just want; it was need.
Angel's POV.
He dropped his lips to the base of his throat and sought a mark he wasn't sure was still there. As his tongue traced its outline the pulse in his loins echoed a heartbeat long stilled and a reverberating hum was his reward. The music was ending now but he didn't wish to stop, he would sway and trace and touch to the purr elicited from Spike's throat and will the dance not to end.
This was the mission; he had saved Spike's ass for the greater good and for nimble fingers to explore. He looked into eyes that could absorb the moonlight and wondered, could they really see beyond flesh deeply marred?
Spike's POV.
Lapses in reason needn't be momentary if this was the outcome, and he still didn't care how they had got here. Nor did he care to leave. He wasn't leaving and his dignity was intact; who knew he would be so revered? If suffering could be so eloquent should he ease it or pile on the pain?
If he could be ignored this way for the rest of his existence, he'd collect talismans a plenty and never get tired of the dance. He felt combustible and wanted and needed and loved and there was no question of the end. The show would have to continue on a different floor.
End.
THE CHALLENGE: issued by Spikeyvamp
a)mention/allude to the lyric:
And your skin, oh yeah your skin and bones,
from 'Yellow' by Coldplay
b)mention/allude to the lyric:
Scar tissue that I wish you saw
c)a slow, dirty dance
d)Spike with whoever you want !
e)Spike's fantastic bed hair from 'Intervention'
f)Billy Idol (loved Billy - must be why I love Spike)
g)peanut butter m&ms (why don't they sell them in the UK -they are to die for !)