“Not to be negative or anything, but - we're okay, right? Nobody else is coming after Connor or us?” Fred asked, concern evident in her voice.

“No. We're safe for the time being,” Angel replied. “Let's go home.” He looked at Gunn. “Nice stroller.”

“Thanks…”

~*~*~*~*~

Spike stumbled in the front door of the Hyperion, tripped down the steps, and lay passed out on the floor, much to the shock of the other inhabitants – especially the vampire rocking his son in his arms.

“Spike,” Angel growled, and passed off Connor to Cordelia.

The past week and a half had been relatively quiet; his threat to Linwood must have had an impact on the man. Wolfram & Hart had apparently backed off for now, and he’d seen no evidence of Holtz about.

He’d relaxed somewhat in preparation of Christmas and even let Cordelia and the others spruce up the lobby with decorations and a tree.

And now this.

Angel strode over to his errant grandchilde and hauled him up by the back of his duster. The smell of alcohol assaulted his nostrils – Spike was dead drunk – but that was nothing compared to the smell of blood and semen. His and Buffy’s essences mingled together.

He barely repressed his howl of rage.

Slinging Spike over his shoulder, he made for the stairs.

“Angel?” Cordelia called out.

“Keep an eye on Connor. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“But—”

“It’s fine, Cordy. I’m just gonna dump him in one of the vacant bedrooms. When he sobers up, I’ll find out what he’s doing here.”

Getting no other argument from her or any of the others, Angel took the stairs two at a time. Out of sight of the others, he let his demon have free reign. He could practically feel Angelus banging against his cage, demanding to be let out. To punish the boy for daring to touch what was his.

Angel was half tempted to let him.

He didn’t know what Spike was thinking to come to Los Angeles and flaunt his sexual relationship with his ex-girlfriend in his face. Then to top it off by passing out drunk at his feet.

One thing was for sure, his childe had a lot of explaining to do when he awoke.

Angel dumped Spike on the bed in the room next to his own. He didn’t move or twitch once he stopped bouncing on the mattress and Angel could only imagine the quantity of alcohol Spike had to drink to be that out of it – vampire constitution being what it was. With a final growl, Angel shook off his demon and returned to the lobby. Answers would have to wait until Spike slept it off.

“You think it’s wise, having him here?” Wesley asked upon his return.

“Yeah, hot pokers ringing any bells?” Cordelia added.

“Spike can’t hurt anyone,” Angel half explained. “He’s— it won’t be a problem.”

“If you say so,” Cordelia snorted. Then she dropped the matter and returned her attention to the baby in her arms, her antics causing everyone around her to smile.

~*~*~*~*~

Angel came downstairs two days later and looked around. The lobby was deserted save for Lorne, who was playing with Connor. With only two days left before Christmas, everyone else was apparently out shopping.

“Where’s Spike?”

“I’m guessing up in his room, Angelcakes.”

“Still?”

“Uh huh. If you ask me, that vamp’s nursing a broken heart.”

Angel snorted.

“Scoff all you want, Schnookums, but you didn’t see the look on his face when he spied the Li’l Kipper for the first time.”

“Lorne, he nearly attacked my son,” Angel growled.

“Didn’t you say that he couldn’t hurt anyone? And he wasn’t attacking so much as wanted to get a whiff of what his senses were no doubt telling him – that he belonged to you. Why didn’t you tell him?”

Angel frowned. “What was I supposed to say? ‘I got a reincarnated Darla pregnant, and she staked herself bringing our son into this world’?”

“It would have been the truth. Angelkins—”

“Look. I don’t have time for this right now. Spike is— just being typical Spike. Showing up unexpectedly and making a mess of things. He’s done nothing but drink himself into a coma these past two days, so it’s not like he would have listened to anything I had to say anyway.”

“He’s in pain. He wouldn’t be the first person to drown their sorrows in drink.”

“Do you know something? Have you read him?”

“Honey, I don’t have to read him. The vamp wears his heart on his sleeve, at least for those of us smart enough to notice.”

“So what are you saying?”

“You’re his Sire.”

“Grandsire.”

“Uh huh…”

“It’s true,” Angel denied.

“Riiight. You’d like everyone to think that. If it’s in the Watcher’s Chronicles, it has to be gospel. You’re forgetting something. I’m an empath. I can see the bond between you two as surely as I could a rope wrapped around your guy’s waists.”

“Lorne, I haven’t been his sire in a hundred years. He wouldn’t take my help even if I offered it.”

“Ever think him coming here drunk and smelling like the Slayer is his way of asking for it?” At Angel’s surprised look he added, “What? It’s not like vampires have a monopoly on the nose schtick. Those two must have been going at it all night for him to smell the way he did. Hell, if I didn’t know better, I’d think he deliberately didn’t bathe for days just so—”

“Lorne!”

“What?”

“Not helping.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

“What would Angelus have done?”

Flayed him within an inch of his life then spent a week drowning the boy in his own come to get rid of the Slayer’s scent.

“Okay. Well, maybe you don’t have to go to that extreme,” Lorne commented upon seeing Angel’s fierce expression. “But you need to do something. Or I fear you’ll ’ve gained one child, only to lose another.”

When Spike ended up being a no-show for the third night in a row, Angel took matters into his own hands.

It wasn’t pretty.

~*~*~*~*~

Angel stormed into Spike’s room and manhandled him out of bed.

“You’re not gonna come here and then stay drunk all the time.”

“Leave me alone. Go play with your li’l brat.”

“No. We’re having this out once and for all.”

Spike took a swing at him.

Angel easily ducked it and let his own fist fly, smashing into Spike’s face causing blood to splatter everywhere. Spike went flying into the wall, then crashed onto the floor in a heap. Angel hoped Spike would stay down on the ground, but no such luck; Spike got up, his face changed and he growled as he attacked. Angel sighed even as he planted his feet. After that it was a free-for-all, and even with Spike being as drunk as he was, it took awhile for Angel to gain the upper hand. Finally shoving Spike back on the bed and straddling his waist.

“Ye’re my childe, Will. Just because Connor is in my life now, doesn’t mean there’s no place for you.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Angel,” Spike told him wearily, the fight going out of him. “Let me up. I’m going back to Sunnydale. Don’t even know why I came here.”

Angel didn’t move.

“I said let me up.”

“No.”

Spike began to struggle beneath the greater weight of his sire. “Get off me, you bloody poof.” Harder still when his efforts proved useless.

“Ow! Stop it. Spike. Will. Fuck!”

Angel, tired of being bitten and clawed, flipped Spike over and shoved him face-first into the mattress.

“What’s the matter, Peaches? Don’t want me goin’ back to the Slayer. Can’t stand the thought that she’s not the little girl you used to know? That she’s being fucked by an evil, soulless—” Fangs pierced his neck and cut off his angry tirade. He cried out in pain, struggled a bit more then finally gave up. With Angel pulling blood out of him at such a rapid pace, it was only a matter of time before he lost his strength altogether. Better just to concede the round.

Angel sensed the fight go out Spike and released his neck. Laving tenderly at the marks he’d made for the first time since… ever. Angelus may have favored William, but he’d been hard pressed to show it, not without being seen weak. With his soul, Angel was able to do that now. And he did, purring into the skin beneath his lips until he felt Spike shudder.

“Ya don’t have t’ deliberately piss me off for me t’ pay attention t’ ya, ya know. Yer m’ childe, Will. My favored, truth be known. And not the soul, or Connor, will ever change that.”

“You’re not my sire. Angelus is—” Spike snapped.

“I’ll be happy to show you how close to the surface he can be sometimes,” Angel warned. “If that’s what it takes.”

“Pfft. Whatever. I’m going back to Sunnydale. At least there, I know where I fit in. Go-to vamp, that’s me.”

“And you’re happy with that?”

“What do you care? You’re the one that left me there, shackled in the watcher’s bathtub, unable to even feed myself. Ridiculed and mocked like I was some bloody pet.” Spike struggled beneath Angel, and surprisingly was allowed to slip free. He was almost to the door when his sire’s words stopped him in his tracks.

“They swore they’d look after you. It’s why I left you with them. Giles, even Buffy. They told me they’d take care of you. Keep you safe from the Initiative. I didn’t think you’d come back with me so I left you in their care.”

“Care? Care?” Spike asked incredulously. “You think they’ve been carin’ for me all this time?”

“I saw you at Joyce’s funeral. You seemed okay—”

“Fat lot you know, you pillock!”

Spike was so angry he was close to tears. Practically vibrated with it. If he didn’t leave the room, hell, Los Angeles for that matter, he’d be half tempted to chain his sire up and finish that hot poker torture session. Personally this time.

He stormed out of his temporary room; the sound of the door crashing into the wall was loud enough that Lorne peeked his head out of his own room several doors down to see what was going on. Spying Spike’s retreating back, and the elder vampire hot on his heels, caused him to smile and quietly retreat back inside his room.

Angel slammed Spike up against the wall, the forearm to the back of his neck holding him in place.

“Bes’ be explainin’ that comment of yours, childe.”

“Get off ‘o me.”

“Not until you tell me—”

Spike broke free and whirled around to face his sire.

“What?” he yelled. “How I was lucky to get a mug of foul-tastin’ pig’s blood a day? How the Slayer thought my face was her own personal punching bag. How the Whelp never missed an opportunity to threaten me or belittle me? What, Angelus? Is that not enough? How about how I had to align myself with my enemy just to survive. And how the demon community took great pleasure in calling me a traitor to their kind. Or maybe you’d like to hear how Riley shoved a plastic stake in my heart because I outed his nasty habit to the Slayer. How she blamed me when he took off for good.”

“I’m sorry,” Angel whispered. “You should have come to me.”

“And what? Be treated to more of the same? You made it perfectly clear how you felt when you left me there with them. ‘m just some errant childe you turned your back on so your past wouldn’t interfere with your plans of redemption. No worries, mate. I’ll be out of your hair in a jiff.”

Spike turned on his heel and walked off.

Angel didn’t stop him from leaving.

~*~*~*~*~

“You’re just going to let him go?”

“You heard him, Lorne, he doesn’t want to stay here,” Angel sighed resignedly.

“Not only blind but stupid to boot. Angelcakes, Spike’s a vampire. No soul, no conscience. Though that part’s probably debatable. But he is a demon. You’re his sire. Make him.”

“Just because he’s a demon doesn’t mean he doesn’t get a say in how he lives his life.”

“I’m telling you he doesn’t want one. At least not right now. If he goes back to Sunnydale, the Slayer and her friends will eventually succeed in breaking him. Much worse than Angelus ever could,” he added quietly.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike had just reached his car when he was slammed up against the door.

“What do you want, Angel?” Spike sneered the name. “Have to say this is gettin’ old.”

“Mind your tongue or I’ll cut it out and ration your blood so that it takes a month to grow back.” Angel felt Spike stiffen beneath him and chuckled. “You seem to forget your place, childe of mine. I made you. You belong to me. Your purpose, your sole reason for being is to serve my pleasure. Mine, and only mine.”

Angel bit into Spike’s neck and drank until Spike sagged against the car. It didn’t take long, given what he’d taken earlier.

“Forgotten how good it was to drink from the source,” Angel murmured in his childe’s ear. “Especially you. Nothing tastes better than my own sweet Will. Isn’t that right? Answer me, childe.”

“Sire…”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Angel asked rhetorically, cupping Spike’s crotch. “You always did like when I fed from you. Always made that extra kill just so I would. Didn’t you, boy?”

“Yes!” Spike gasped out.

Angel snapped the buttons on Spike’s fly and wrapped a hand around his childe’s cock. Fisting it hard and fast, and never once letting up on his verbal assault.

“Tell me who you belong to, boy.”

“You, Sire. You.”

“You’re gonna stay here with me.”

“Yes…” Spike arched into the hand steadily bringing him off right there on the street where anyone could walk by.

“You wouldna’ be lyin’ to me, would you, boy?”

“No—”

“Ya sure now? Because, I’d follow you back there. Fuck you in front of all of them if need be, Buffy included, if I have to. To prove to them, and to you, who you belong to.”

Spike’s cock jumped in his hand and Angel chuckled. He gave one last squeeze and reluctantly tucked it away.

“As much as I want to fuck you right now, I’m a little bit more discreet than Angelus. Back inside. My room though, I’ve got the bigger bed.” 

The End  

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