Chapter 22
**
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Previously:
Spike turned, game face in place, and said the words of challenge, “I am William of Aurelius. I claim independence.”
Angel’s demon surged forward as he faced the insolent upstart and he hissed out his response.
“Never.”
**
As Angel launched himself at the blond, Spike sidestepped him and allowed his momentum to carry him into the back wall. “Never's a long time, Grandpa. You should know by now I don't play by your rules.”
“You learned them once, boy.” Angel shook himself off and took a step forward, sneering as he backhanded his grandchilde. “Seems to me you need a refresher course.”
Allowing the slap to heighten his speed, Spike spun around and returned Angel’s backhand, following up with an unexpected fan kick across the face that tossed Angel to his knees. “Didn't fighting by the slayer’s side teach you anything, Peaches? Oh, yeah…that's right. You never really fought, you just lurked about and let her do all the bloody work.”
Xander laughed his agreement with the mocking blond. When the Giles looked at him, thinking Xander’s laughter inappropriate for such a serious situation, the brunette carpenter responded indignantly, “What? It’s not like he’s wrong.”
Buffy kept her eyes pinned on the combatants, analysing and anticipating moves, watching for mistakes. To her critical eyes, Angel looked sluggish; his movements slow and clumsy. He was relying on brute strength to counterbalance the younger vampire’s speed and skill. It was clear that he hadn’t anticipated the considerable development of the blond master’s strength. Spike on the other hand looked…amazing. She had never seen him fight with such single minded determination. She knew he was a fierce and graceful fighter, the best she’d ever faced, but she had to admit it; the way he was fighting at the moment, even she would be hard pressed to beat him.
Spike knew he couldn’t afford to get cocky. He had to keep Angel off balance. Using another of Angel’s wide, wild swings to send the elder vampire flying into the wall, Spike continued his insulting diatribe.
“Oh, yeah. Look at you. Thinkin’ you're the big saviour. Fighting for truth, justice, and soccer mums everywhere. Please! You’d still be trawling for rats in the alleys if you hadn’t been tempted by a fifteen year old in a skimpy little skirt. Some champion you are, Liam.”
“I’ve got a soul, boy,” Angel spat back through a mouthful of blood. When the hell did Spike learn to make that move? Angel noticed that the blond wasn’t fighting with his usual fist and fangs. Not this time. This time he was fighting like a highly trained, skilled warrior. It might be time to let Angelus out.
“You got a curse, and let’s not forget; that shiny soul didn’t stop you from tuning that sailor back in the forties, now did it. Lawson. Wasn’t that his name?” Spike was in his element. Sure, he didn’t use this more formal style of fighting very often, but it wasn’t because he couldn’t. Angel knew nothing about his extensive training, and Spike was using that ignorance to every advantage. He’d spent years perfecting each move, researching different styles as he travelled to different countries. He still loved a good brawl, but thanks to a healthy dose of self-preservation, it wasn’t all he had to work with.
Arching into a backbend to avoid Angel’s wild right cross, Spike followed through with his momentum. Placing one hand on the ground, he performed a back walkover and allowed the steel-capped toes of both boots to connect solidly with Angel’s chin.
Nursing his bruised and bleeding chin, Angel was infuriated. ‘Who is this arrogant little upstart to question my actions?’ Angel thought. Not only was the little bastard questioning Angel’s soul and his status as a champion, but he was bringing up Lawson in front of Buffy, too. Now she would be expecting an explanation…
“Come on, hero. Tell me more,” Spike urged him on as they traded blows. “Show me what it means to be a true champion.” Spike delivered a fast and hard left hook that rocked Angel’s balance. “And I'll tell you why you can't stand the bloody sight of me.” Dropping quickly, he swept his leg neatly around, taking Angel’s legs from beneath him and dropping the elder vampire flat on his back with a resounding thump.
Regaining his feet took some effort. Staggering around the blond, Angel desperately tried to make Spike angry in hopes that he’d make a mistake. “Tell it to your therapist.” Angel ground out as he directed a flurry of punches towards the bane of his existence. “I sure as hell don’t care.”
Evading Angel’s punches easily, Spike continued to taunt him. “You hate me because every time you look at me...” Interspersing punches with jibes, he continued, “You see all the dirty little things I've done, all the lives I've taken, and it’s all because of you! Drusilla sired me...” Spike delivered a perfectly timed roundhouse kick, which landed Angel flat on his back. “But you? You made me a monster.”
Angel sat up. “I didn't make you, Spike.” He tried to stumble to his feet once more and failed. “I just opened up the door and let the real you out.” Angel delivered what he hoped to be a devastating blow.
Spike’s reaction was not what he had expected.
“You never knew the real me, Liam.” Spike grinned and stalked towards his prey, confidence oozing from every pore. “Too busy trying to see your own reflection and praying there was someone else as disgusting as you in the world so you could stand to live with yourself. Take a long look, hero. I'm nothing like you!”
Angel realised his mistake. He had underestimated the opponent and it was going to cost him. Spike saw it and knew that he had won.
Darting forward before the bulky vamp could roll away, Spike delivered a punishing kick to the head, knocking him out. Moving quickly, he turned Angel onto his stomach and pinned his arms high up behind his back, then positioned himself across the elder vampire’s legs.
When Angel started to rouse, he despaired at his position.
Spike leaned into Angel and hissed the dreaded words, “Yield and release me.”
“You’ll never survive the separation, Spike. Don’t do this,” Angel pleaded, knowing that tricking the blond into releasing him was only to save face.
“Yield and release me.” Spike’s tone brooked no argument.
A few moments of silence made the anxiety levels in the room shoot through the roof. Angel realised that his only real choice was to release the little bastard. Well, good riddance to bad rubbish!
“Fine,” he snapped. “William of Aurelius, you are now independent. I release you from your familial bond.”
Spike felt the bond fall away and instantly moved away from the vampire on the ground. He was alone. He was truly and completely alone. His demon was grieving the loss of the connection, but it wasn’t as bad as he had anticipated. The pride he felt at finally defeating Angel made him stand tall and proud.
Angel was not happy with the blonde’s lack of reaction to the loss of the familial connection. Spike should be crying, pleading and begging to be let back in. Angel had eagerly anticipated turning him down and thus forcing him to live with the agony. Well, if he wasn’t going to get the satisfaction of seeing the peroxided pest grieving because of the loss of family, there were other ways to get to him.
“She won't ever love you, you know,” he snarled at his former kin with deceptive softness. “None of them will. You're just an evil, soulless demon.”
Giles heard and replied to Angel’s words, his tone clearly contemptuous. “Actually, Angel, I believe Spike has finally found a place to call home. Perhaps you should return to yours.”
Cordy muttered derisively to no one in particular, “What the hell makes you think we want him?”
Angel watched in horror as the Sunnydale group surrounded the blond vampire, lavishing attention on him as they totally ignored the souled vampire.
When Xander moved in to enthusiastically shake Spike’s hand, Spike felt urged to ask, “What the hell were you humming, Harris?”
Xander looked sheepish. “It was the music from the Spock verses Kirk fight scene in the Star Trek episode ‘This Side of Paradise’.”
“Well done mate, very inspiring.” Spike patted the carpenter on the back and Xander grinned with pride.
Cordelia rolled her eyes in disbelief. ‘God, I can’t believe I dated him!’ she thought. Turning decisively towards the dejected brunette vampire, Cordy gave him her ultimatum. “I’m leaving. Get your undead ass out to the car or you can find your own way home.”
“Cordelia,” Penny halted the impatient ex-cheerleader. “When you have a vision of a thin young woman being sucked into a dimensional vortex, call me first, okay?”
When both Wesley and Cordelia looked at her suspiciously, she simply smiled enigmatically and said, “She’s destined to be the love of Wesley life.”