Spike was preening himself in front of the mirror. He turned about from side to side, checking his rear end, patting his stomach and extending his white wings. Leaning closer into the mirror before him, he licked his hand and smoothed down a stray strand of hair with it. Then he fished around in his front drawer to find some clippers. Perhaps the wings were getting a little matted and mangy – did wings get mangy? Did he smell like goose down?

“What are you doing?”

Spike jumped a near mile, clippers in hand, and spun to see his best friend standing there, smirking at him.

“Nothin,” Spike bristled and set his wings firmly against his back, covertly dropping the clippers in the open drawer behind him.

“Looks like somethin’,” Angel quipped, grinning, leaning his broad, tall frame in Spike’s doorway.

“Well, it’s nothin’,” Spike retorted, gazing at his friend thoughtfully. Scratching an imaginary goatee, Spike pondered changing his blond locks to brown like Angels. Maybe it’d give him an extra something that he was most obviously lacking.

“Why are you staring at me?” Angel asked, uncomfortably, standing tall and looking ready to bolt. Then his eyes narrowed. “This isn’t one of those times where you try to scare me into thinking I have something on my face when I really don’t is it?”

“No, you bloody git,” Spike grumbled. “What do you think of the hair?” he asked, touching his hand to his hair and grumbling when he felt that stray piece sticking up again.

“Yours?”

“Yeah, mine.”

Angel shrugged. “It’s blond, it’s short, it’s. . . hair.” He furrowed his brow and frowned. “What are you going for here Spike?”

“You’re an oaf, you know that?”

“I’m not a girl Spike. I’m not going to dissect your appearance. Next you’re gonna want to paint each other’s nails and take a bubble bath together—“

“Just for the record, that would never happen.”

“--What are you on about anyway?”

Spike sighed and sat on his bed. “It’s just . . . been a while.”

“Oh. I get it now.” Angel nodded, smirking. “Going through a dry spell and you think you’ve lost the ‘touch’.”

“More than lost the touch mate. I’ve just plum . . . lost . . . the touch,” he shook his head, groaning and flopping back on the bed, spreading his wings about him.
“It’s like I never had it I lost it so much.”

Angel chuckled.

Spike shot up and glared at him. “What’s so bleeding funny?”

“Just funny to hear Eros’ nephew fears he’s ‘lost the touch.’ And you kind of look like a snow angel right about now. You know the ones we’ve seen mortals make?”

“Just because the God of Love happens to by my uncle doesn’t mean anything. And stop looking at my wings and focus on my problem for a minute please.”

Angel rolled his eyes. “Except that you work for him. You set up the candidates and shoot the arrows for him.”

“No, I don’t set them up. That’s the part I don’t do. I just make sure they’re within shooting range so the arrow goes to the right person,” Spike muttered.

“I thought you were being trained?” Angel asked, confused.

“He’s been putting it off and putting it off,” Spike waved his hand dismissively, sitting up. “Something about me needing to ‘settle down’ and ‘concentrate’. Whatever the hell that means,” he ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily.

“Could it be that you can’t sit still for more than five minutes?”

“I’m bleeding sittin here right now!” Spike jumped up. Angel laughed and Spike narrowed his eyes at him.

“And that you have no patience,” Angel pointed out.

“I’m a failure to my father,” Spike murmured. “He sets them up and gets to shoot. I just . . . shoot.”

“It takes time and patience to be able to set up matches, Spike. You have to make sure that when you’re making a match, it’s based on compatibility, friendship and passion. It’s not cut and dry. You’ve seen human relationships; they’re complex! All that talking, the emotions, the compromise . . . they’re hard work. It’s easy for them to fall in love; it’s not always easy for them to stay in love.”

“Right. Which is where the merry band of Eros shooters come in: To find their true love. The one they’ll settle with for eternity.”

“Exactly. Otherwise all those mortals would be stumbling around making bad matches everywhere and crying their little human hearts out.”

“I’m ready, I know I can do it!”

“What about the dry spell you’re on? You can’t even match yourself up.”

“Are you trying to help? I’m drowning here and you’re describing the water!” Spike exclaimed, frustrated.

Angel chuckled. “What happened to . . . what was her name?”

“Medea?”

“Yeah, Medea. She was a looker.”

“She’s involved with some guy named Jason. I never had a chance. Besides, she’s got this jealous streak in her that’s just bordering on psychotic.”

“You were dating one of Hera’s nieces weren’t you?”

“Yeah, but do I really want to face the wrath of Hera once it blows up in my face? No.”

Angel sighed and sat down on Spike’s bed. “So, is it with you or them that the problem lays?”

Spike looked at his friend. “I think it might be them. I keep thinking the right one will come around . . . I keep thinking it’s me . . . but it’s not. You know what I think I need? A mortal. It worked for my uncle, it worked for my mother. Why couldn’t it work for me?”

Angel’s eyes widened. “Are you thinking of asking if you can travel to Earth?”

Spike shrugged, “Maybe. Zeus did it all the bloody time. Why do you think Hera’s such a bitch?”

Used to. Past tense. Mortals today aren’t as accepting of us anymore. Well, aside from the pagans . . . but they’ve also never actually seen us in the flesh.”

“I don’t know Angel,” Spike said with a sigh. “I’m not saying that I will do it, it’s just an idea I’m entertaining. Not like I’d be allowed to go anyway and make myself known,” Spike explained on a sigh.

“Ever think of asking?”

“Didn’t honestly put a lot of thought into it until now.”

“Well, your uncle sent me to get you, so maybe you can ask him yourself.”

Spike’s eyes widened. “Bleeding hell Angel! You’ve made me keep him waiting.”

Angel grinned. “Just trying to help you out a bit there buddy.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “That’s what I get for making Iris’ nephew my best friend.”

Angel patted his friend on the back. “Can’t help it. She’s got temperance down to an art form. We support each other, you and I. We’ve got big footsteps to follow.”

“Don’t I know it,” Spike muttered and followed Angel out the door to meet Uncle Eros, God of Love.

********



Starting to close his wings, Spike glided to a stop on the steps of Eros’ enormous marble castle –literally a castle in the sky—and took a deep breath as he looked over at Angel who was settling himself on the steps.

“I’ll wait for you here,” Angel told his friend.

Spike nodded and flew up the last few steps to the gigantic double doors. They opened as if they knew he was there, which they probably did.

It never failed to take his breath away when he entered his aunt and uncles home. It was a vast place and yet somehow incredibly homey. He could see his Aunt Psyche’s touch, and he knew that Uncle Eros didn’t disapprove of the place. The colors ranged from the lightest pink to the deepest red and portraits adorned the walls—portraits of family, friends, a ton of Aphrodite, which Spike knew Aphrodite probably put there herself. A grand piano sat in the front room, front and center, where his uncle loved to entertain. Dark wood floors with rich mahogany colors bled throughout the room-- from the chaise lounge to the velvet sofa and chairs—all serving to make the room a comfortable and sensual place to entertain and be entertained.

He remembered the last party they’d had, the room had been filled with guests and Bacchus had had the wine flowing to no end. Spike had gotten quite spirited and had started picking a fight with the ponce Narcissus. He had tried to reason with Echo that her man was just out for himself, but she hadn’t listened to him. All she could do was follow Narcissus around and repeat everything he said as if he were chock full of wisdom. That had been the beginning of Spike’s spiral into discontent with the women of Olympus.

Passing by the room and down the long hall to his uncle’s study, Spike took a deep breath and braced himself. Not that he was afraid of his uncle, quite the contrary. However, he feared his uncle would stop his employment if he knew just how discontent he’d been of late.

Eros was poring over papers at his long oak desk when Spike entered. His handsome uncle looked up and smiled his thousand watt smile at him. “Hello Spike. How are you, my boy?” The sun shone off his golden hair and Spike frowned inwardly, thinking he’d never had been able to color his hair that same shade. Everyone would think he was just copying his uncle and the ‘ethereal’ look wasn’t that ‘in’ anymore.

“Good uncle. Great. Perfect. You?”

Eros’ face crossed with something Spike couldn’t quite define—disappointment? Uncertainty? Both? – Before he gestured for Spike to have a seat.

Settling down on the overstuffed, pink satin chair with the clawed feet, Spike sat ramrod straight, waiting to hear what his uncle had to say.

“Spike, for some time now you’ve been after me to train you in matchmaking,” Eros began, leaning against the desk with his hip, his blue eyes intent on Spike. Spike hated when his uncle stared at him in such a manner. It was like he was looking into his soul-- into his very mind-- and it unnerved him.

Spike nodded, averting his gaze from Uncle Eros and shifting to the gigantic crystal ball in the middle of the room. He was going for unassuming.

“I’ve decided to honor your request.”

Spike’s head snapped back to his uncle, his wings fluttering in excitement, “Really? When?”

“Soon. Today if you want,” Eros grinned, seeming pleased by Spike’s enthusiasm. “I’ve been talking it over with your parents and Aunt and she agrees with me that this is the best thing for you. Your mom of course has her reservations--”

“What’s the best thing for me?” He had the distinct feeling that his uncle was talking about more than just simple field work here.

“Do you remember me telling you about a mortal woman by the name of Elizabeth Summers in Sunnydale, California?”

Spike nodded slowly, wondering where in Hades this was going.

“As you know at the last staff meeting, she’s been a great asset to our business with her own matchmaking. Her success is astounding. So many happy marriages with soul mates having found each other without our aid. It’s amazing that such a mortal could have such a gift.” Eros paused and then frowned, “However, as of late, her work hasn’t been top notch. She’s had a few set backs. It started with a divorce or two and now it seems she’s just going through the motions and seems to have lost her touch.”

Spike tried not to react to the very same words he’d uttered to Angel not too long ago. I know what that feels like, poor girl, he thought.

“That’s where you come in, my boy. I want you to help her. Help her find her spark again, find her touch, and bring her back into the game of making those correct matches again. I’m hoping with her influence on the love front, more will arise just like her so that we’ll have chains of ‘Soul Matched’ everywhere, helping us out.”

“With all due respect Uncle Eros, but how can I, who has never been able to match before, help someone who’s lost her touch with it? What could she possibly learn from me?” Spike wasn’t feeling too sure about this.

His uncle broke out into a wide smile, his white teeth sparkling. “I think you’ll find you know more than you think Spike. What do you say? Will you do it? It’s the perfect opportunity for you, it really is. I trust you; I put my faith in you that you can help Miss Summers.”

“I’m still unsure as to how I can –“

“Will you do it?” Eros asked, cutting him off.

Spike stopped and sighed, raking a hand through his hair. If there was one thing he didn’t want to do, it was disappoint his uncle. He looked up to the man, always had. He only wanted to follow in his footsteps and hopefully have the same kind of patience he did. Not to mention having the greatest love possible. He looked to Uncle Eros and Aunt Psyche as the epitomes of inspiration and hope. If they could achieve it, then he was sure he could too. Plus, he had an advantage that his aunt and uncle didn’t have—the meddling ways of Aphrodite. The Goddess had tamed quite a bit since her “secret affair” with Ares. Which was ironic in a way really. What he didn’t understand was why his uncle was being so vague and just “trusting his abilities”. He didn’t trust his abilities. Perhaps that was the whole point though.

Taking a deep breath, Spike nodded. “When do I leave?”

Eros hugged him quickly. “Good choice. You leave tonight.”

“So, Miss Summers here I come,” and Spike smiled weakly.





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