Title: Wolf Pack
Chapter Title: The Agreement
Author: Baby Blues
E-mail: purely_blissful@hotmail.com
Rated: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine, but the story is.
Summary: Spike decides to leave to do some traveling, the alpha and the younger male talk . . . in a SORT of civil way . . . okay . . . so maybe I lied.
Dedication: To Chad, for being so wonderful.
Excerpt:
~Spike: Oh, and do me a favor . . . Take care of her, Peaches . . . Don’t take advantage of her vulnerability . . . Because if you don’t find her innocence beautiful, then you’re a fool not worthy of her.
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“Hey.”
Buffy looked up at Faith from her seat on the white gazebo, but said nothing to the brunette who was smartly dressed for a journey in more meanings than one.
The dark woman just sighed and looked away, leaning against the opening with her arms crossed and her packed bags by her feet. “I just want to let you know, before I leave . . . that nothing happened between Angelus and I.”
“Thanks for the assurance,” Buffy said without any emotion as she stared off into the garden, her left hand fiddled with her pink floral skirt while her right hand was clasped lightly around the chain that held the swinging settee. “Now if you don’t mind, I‘d like to be alone.”
Faith snorted, “To what? Brood?” she shook her head lightly. “God, you always do this.”
“Do what?” Buffy glared at her.
“Whenever someone hurts you, you hold this humungous grudge that . . . “
Buffy stared at her for a moment. “You actually have the balls to say that to me?” she asked through an angry stare.
Faith sighed, realizing her wrong choice of words, “You’re not getting my point,” she said in a frustrated tone, “Angelus did nothing to you. It was ME.”
“It’s always you, isn’t it, Faith?” Buffy asked bitterly.
“I deserved that,” she whispered.
“You deserve more than just that,” Buffy said, looking away again.
“I’m already being cast out,“ Faith reminded her heatedly.
“They were sentencing you to death,” Buffy reminded her back.
Faith sighed. “I obviously can’t get through to you . . . and I guess I can understand that, but know something . . . Angelus loves you. If you never believe how sorry I am or how regretful I am . . . or how NOTHING happened between me and him . . . at least believe that he cares about you. Cares so much that this whole thing happening between the two of you is killing him,” she said sincerely and then added softly, “And it’s killing you too.”
Buffy still said nothing and Faith closed her eyes in guilt and pain. Here was the woman who had probably cared about her more than anyone and had tried so hard to befriend her all of her life . . . and she was emotionally dead because of the hurt she had caused her. She caused this . . . and there was nothing she could do to fix it.
She picked up her two bags, silently turned away, and whispered, “I’m sorry,” as she hoped deep inside that somehow, everything would be fixed and be right once again.
“Faith . . . wait . . . ” Buffy called out, standing up from her seat as she gazed at the young woman’s back.
The brunette stopped in her tracks at the bottom of the steps but didn‘t turn around. “What is it, B?”
“Thank you,” was Buffy’s whispered reply.
Faith could only nod as she walked away. “See you in Werewolf Heaven, B,” she laughed sadly, “If I ever make it there.”
“Good luck then,” were Buffy’s last words to her.
Tears of relief fell from her brown eyes as slowly walked away with her head held high. If this wasn’t the start of her new life . . . she didn’t know what is.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
“What the hell are you doing?” Angelus frowned as he gazed inside Spike’s bedroom, glancing around the fairly large room filled with piled boxes. He had just visited the twins in their playroom and had seen Spike’s door wide open, and that NEVER happened. It was always either closed or locked, but never open for the whole mansion to see.
“I’m knitting a sweater,” Spike replied sarcastically, “What in the bloody hell does it look like I’m doing.”
“Placing rags in a sorry-for-an-excuse duffel bag,” Angelus smirked haughtily before leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed against his chest.
Spike looked up and glared at the alpha male. “They’re called clothes, Peaches,” he said through clenched teeth, holding back his anger for the millionth time whenever Angelus was nearby. “No wonder Buffy won’t forgive you, you arrogant son of a bitch,” he muttered under his breath as he continued with his packing.
Angel’s face fell, his confident form slowly slumping after clearly hearing the younger man’s words. It had been exactly six straight days, eleven hours, and thirty-six minutes since he had last held her without any of the animosity that was presently running through her in engulfing waves.
During that time, she still wouldn’t talk to him, still wouldn’t look into his eyes. He was like a plague to her, clearly avoiding him since Faith’s trial . . . well . . . and even before that. He didn’t know what to do, what to say, or how to even start begging on his knees for forgiveness. All he knew was that he was dying, and the only person who can save him hated him at this very moment.
“Going somewhere?” Angelus asked as he tried to calm his nerves down, fighting back the urge to take his fury out on the blunt English ass.
“I’m leaving,” Spike replied, “I can’t stay here.”
“Why?” the other male asked curiously.
The younger male angrily threw in his last articles of clothing inside his bag, pain in his heart and fury in his blue eyes. “ ‘Cause I don’t want to be here when you and Buffy start makin’ googly eyes at each other again. Catch my drift?”
Angel looked away. “How can you be so sure?” he asked, trying to sound casual about it.
“You can’t deny the Moon, Angelus,” Spike told him, “Doin’ so will result in changes you don’t want to see or experience. You want to deny destiny? Be my bloody guest. Buffy‘ll be long gone and untouchable by then.”
“Where did you get this from? A fortune cookie?” the alpha male asked jokingly, “Maybe Madame Cleo and her glass ball that‘s really made out of some cheap plastic?”
“Wesley, you big poofter, and the moral teachings of our kind,” Spike answered, staring at him with cold blue eyes, “Maybe it’ll do you good to bloody learn it along with how to treat a lady.”
“Fuck you,” Angelus growled angrily.
“Go fuck yourself,” Spike countered, rolling his eyes.
But in an instant, Spike found himself against the wall with a very pissed-off Angelus glaring at him. “I should kill you right now.”
“But you won’t,” Spike choked out as he calmly added, “ ‘Cause you love ‘er too much to cause ‘er anymore pain.”
Angel shoved him harder against the wall, eyes flashing yellow in warning before pulling away. “I hate you,” he growled, giving himself a mental pat on the back for the real nice comeback.
“The feelin’s mutual, Peaches. Trust me,” Spike said as he fixed his shirt and rubbed his sore neck. “It scares me to think what will happen if and when she starts testing your patience, mate.”
Angelus frowned at him, anger enormously building up in his brown orbs. He grabbed his shirt again and lifted him up against the wall. “What are you insinuating, Spike? That I’ll hurt her?” Angelus demanded.
The younger male choked again. “You’ve done it before . . . “
“Do not speak as though you know what happened . . . “ he growled furiously.
Spike smirked sadly. “I do know,” he informed the alpha male, “Know so much that the pain you caused her drove her so far as to run away from you . . . and ignore you as if you don’t exist to her since she got back.”
“You’re an asshole, Spike,” Angelus growled, “And I can’t wait until you leave and be gone from our lives.”
“Well, Peaches . . . you’re giving me second thoughts now,” Spike grinned.
Angelus pushed him harder against the wall. “When you leave, I never want to see you back here again, do you understand me?”
Spike coughed out, “You can’t keep me away from my clan . . . my family.”
Angelus smiled evilly. “You wanna bet.”
“I will come back in time for Buffy’s labor, and you won’t be able to stop me,” Spike glared at the older male.
“What?” Angelus stopped.
Spike grinned smugly and pulled away. That’ll teach him, he thought quietly. He went back and packed his remaining items and zipped up his duffel bag, watching Angelus in the corner of his eyes.
The alpha male just kind of stood there, in utter astonishment.
“See you in eight more months, Angelus,” Spike said and headed out the door. “Oh, and do me a favor,” he said looking back at the stunned male with serious eyes. “Take care of her, Peaches,” Spike told him defiantly, “Don’t take advantage of her vulnerability . . . Because if you don’t find her innocence beautiful, then you’re a fool not worthy of her.” And with that said, he turned and left.
“Yeah,” was all Angelus could say as he nodded in agreement. And that was all he was able to say for a LONG time as he stood in the middle of Spike‘s empty room, still in shock.
Continue to Chapter 36: The End
Back to Chapter 34: The Facts