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DANCE OF THE MATES


Chapter 15: ‘All The Dudes’


Angel was watching his Grandchilder, carefully. Spike sensed his Grandsire wanted to say something, tell him something, but was holding back.

“Angelus?” Spike finally asked as he lit a cigarette and handed it to the dark, broody vampire.

“This bond, between you and Buffy,” Angel began, cautiously, a frown on his handsome mouth, “it is unbreakable. You ‘both’ know that, right?”

“Of course,” Spike sighed and flopped on Oz’s tattered couch. “It’s those fucking morons that are Buffy’s supposed friends who haven’t got a clue,” he groaned and clasped his head in his hands.

“They will get a clue,” Angel growled lowly as he began to pace about the Oz’s small apartment.

The dark, Master Vampire halted his stride and pulled a high tech cell phone out of his jacket pocket. Angel speed dialed a number and began to talk to someone on the other end of the line.

‘I have got to get one of those things,’ Spike told himself for the umpteenth time in a week.

“When will you be here?” Spike heard Angel ask the faceless voice on the other end. Angel then clicked off the cell phone and tossed it on the couch next to Spike.

“My guys, Wesley, Charles Gunn and a dude named Lindsey, they’ll be here, at this apartment, soon.”

“Dude?” Spike asked his Grandsire, with a raised left brow and a smirk. “You actually use the word ‘dude’ in a conversation, Angelus?”

“Yes, Spike,” Angel hissed with exasperation, “I actually use the word ‘dude’ in conversation. I’ve ‘lived’ in Los Angeles for way too long now.”

The two vampires sat, for long, silent moments, contemplating the sunset that was to come in a few hours.

“So,” Spike finally broke the silence, “who’s this Gunn guy and this Lindsey ‘dude’ Angel? I recognize the Brit, Wesley, from the Gem of Amara fiasco, but…”

“If you say the word ‘dude’ one more time, William,” Angel hissed, his black brows scrunched together, tensely. “I”ll kick the shit out of you, boy.”

“My chip,” Spike piped up, suddenly, “it doesn’t work against demons, Angel Baby. Just thought you should know that, Peaches.” The blond vampire grinned, happily at the brunette vampire.

Angel sighed in frustration, “Gunn,” he began, “he’s my muscle. Lindsey? He’s a rogue lawyer.”

“Aren’t all lawyers rogues, Peaches?” Spike asked, sincerely.

“Willie, you’re on my shit list as it is, don’t push this,” Angel warned.

“Don’t call me Willie!” Spike hissed angrily.

“Don’t call me Peaches!” Angel countered, just as angry.

“Shit, dudes! Don’t argue!” Oz mumbled sleepily from his bedroom door.

“Oz, Angel. Angel, Oz,” Spike made the quick introductions.

“Seen him, met him and yada yada,” Oz yawned at the two vampires. “Anyone want a latte?” the red-headed wolfboy asked suddenly. “I’ve got this great expresso machine, it…”

“NO!” both vampires cried simotaneously.

Oz shrugged and scratched his boxer covered crotch. “Well, I do,” he smiled good-naturedly and stumbled off to his small kitchen.

“The witches boy,” Spike offered to his Grandsire. “He’s on our side, knows that the claim is written in stone.”

Angel grunted and grabbed another cigarette from Spike, lit it and took a deep, satisfying drag off of it. “I only smoke this shit when you’re around, Spike,” Angel admitted reluctantly. “You bring out the worst in me, boy.”

There was a quick, heavy knock at Oz’s front door.

“I’ll get it!” Angel cried as he bolted up to open the door. He apparently knew exactly who, or whom it was.

Spike watched as Angel motioned three men into the apartment. He recognized the ex-watcher, Wesley Pryce something or rather, but had not idea who the other two men were.

“You know Spike,” Angel pointed at the blond vampire, but only Wesley nodded. Spike noticed the fellow Brit had a disdainful expression on his face.

“Gunn, Lindsey,” Angel continued matter-of-factly, “this is my Grandchilder, Spike. Or William the Bloody, whichever you prefer.” Angel actually smirked at Spike, causing the younger vampire to flinch, just a tad.

“So,” Spike glanced at the three men, respectively, “why the fuck are these losers here?”

“Back up,” Angel grunted out, motioning the men to sit down.

“Back up?” Spike asked, a little confused. What the fuck could three humans do, against magic mojo, that two Master Vampires could not?

“Wesley,” Angel looked over at the owlish looking young man, “I need you to get into Rupert Giles’ house. Have a chat with your ex Watcher in arms. Make him understand that this bond, this claim between Spike/William and Buffy the Slayer…it’s permenant. Nothing can break it, nor should any of them try to.”

“Angel,” Wesley stammered, “I can’t help but feel that…”

“Do it, Wes,” Angel growled at the man, “as soon as possible. You know damn well that ‘this’ is not the first time that a vampire has claimed a human, much less a slayer for a mate. Make Giles understand.”

“Of course,” Wesley repsonded meekly.

“Not the first time?” Spike asked in disbelief.

“No,” Angel responded, glaring at Wesley. “There was a time or two before, over a century ago. A Master Vampire, Lethos, he claimed a Slayer in Germany.” Angel looked away from Spike, his dark eyes clouded and distant.

“What happened,” Spike whispered, afraid to hear the answer.

“Lethos,” Wesley took up the tale, “he was forced to turn the girl, her name was Ingrid. She was taken down by a pack of vampires and her mate, Lethos, he turned her to save her.”

Spike felt like he was going to be sick. No way did he want to ever ‘have’ to turn Buffy. If she ever wanted to be? That was different, but to have to? To save her?

“Where, where are they now?” Spike asked anxiously.

“As far as anyone knows? Still in the German countryside,” Wesley answered. “Mated, for eternity.”

Somehow, this made Spike feel a little better, but he quickly changed the subject.

“What do you two do?” he asked the tall African -American man, Gunn, and this Lindsey bloke.

“We do what Angel says,” Gunn answered evenly. “Anything he says.”

“Well,” Angel began speaking again, “I say this,” he stood up and just towered over the other beings in the room, especially Oz, who was no giant in stature. The guitar playing sometime wolfboy had finally joined them in the living room.

“Spike and me,” Angel started with authority, “we’ll go over to Giles’ house, tonight. After sunset. Try and intimidate the fucks inside into letting Buffy go. Wesley,” Angel pointed to the Brit, “you gain access to the house. Try and talk to Giles. If nothing else, Spike and me? We’ll strut around outside the barrier, make our presence known and all.”

“That’s a great plan, Peach…, I mean Angel,” Spike chuckled, “think we’ll scare the Scoobies into letting my mate free?” He was beginning to get a bit pissed off here. His Grandsire, who was bound by vampire tradition to help, was playing games, nothing more.

“I’m hoping, Willie,” Angel hissed under his unneeded breath at Spike, “that our presence, together, will cause the fools in the house to re-think their positions.”

“And us?” the up-to-now silent Lindsey asked. “What’s our job it this?”

“Tomorrow,” Angel said evenly, “during the day. You and Gunn go stake out Giles’ house. Those bastards have to go somewhere, sometime, right? They won’t do it at night, if they know what’s good for them. So,” the dark man grinned, “they’ll have to leave in the daytime. Then,” Angel continued gleefully, “you, Lindsey and Gunn? You grab the first male that exits the house. Bring them here?” Angel looked over at Oz who nodded, a serious expression on his face.

“Why not just grab any of them?” Lindsey asked, a little puzzled by this plan.

“Because,” Angel sighed impatiently, “those morons know we won’t ‘hurt’ the females, or Oz here. They’re safe, even that fucking soldier boy knows that.”

Spike grinned at Angel, ‘Peaches hates Finn as much as me,’ he reasoned happily.

“Hopefully,” Angel continued as he paced and smoked another one of Spike’s cigarettes, “Riley Finn will come out in the sunlight and that’s when ‘we’ make our move. Grab him, or Buffy’s little ex-white knight, Xander Harris. Bring them here. We’ll,” Angel nodded at Spike now, “we’ll take it from there.”

“Angel,” Wesley began, tentively, “do you think this is the best course of action?”

“Let me ask you something, Wes,” Angel smiled benevolently at his friend and employee. “Would you rather have the unsuspecting Scoobies, the town of Sunnydale, have to deal with a pissed off, chipped Spike and his Grandsire, Angel? Or would you prefer the wrath of Angelus loosed onto this fucking city?”

Wesley cowered quickly and said no more.

“I thought so,” Angel responded smugly. “I ‘am’ Angel,” the dark vampire crowed, “the doer of good. The vampire with a soul. But,” he cautioned the group before him, “when it comes to my family?” He looked, affectionately at his William, his Grandchilder, “if I need to return to my Angelus personna? Become the ‘scourge of Europe, or Sunnydale, once again? I will do so. My family comes first and foremost with me. They always will. If these bastards do not release my Grandchilder’s mate? Then Spike and I will rip the fools that hold Buffy apart and lay waste to this fucking city.”

Spike stood up and joined his Grandsire, by his side. He clasped Angel’s huge hand in his.

“Thank you, Grandsire,” Spike bowed his blond head in respect to Angel.

“I am always your family, boy,” Angel replied softly. “Family first, always.”


A/N: I wanted to write this little chapter and set things up for the next one. Who will Gunn and Lindsey capture? And will Wesley be able to talk some sense into Giles, at least? Thanks for reading, please review. Luv, Spuf





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