A face peered around the doorway under Angel's arm. "Spike, is
that you?"
Angel looked down, startled. Regaining his senses, he scooped
the girl up around the waist, pinning her arms to her sides. His
fingers closed on her throat.
"Well, well. What do we have here? A
friend of yours, Spike? A minion perhaps? Picking em kind of
young, aren't you?"
"You're one to talk." Spike replied. Angel's
eyes flashed with anger.
"Let me in, or I'll snap her little neck," he growled.
The girl stood still, and unbeknownst to Angel, a slight smirk rested on
her lips. Spike gave him a cool level look.
"No, you won't," he said, amusement flitting across
his face.
"And why's that?" Angel's hand closed tighter.
"Because she's human."
Surprised, Angel let his hand loosen around the girl's throat and she pushed off the ground with both feet while Angel's arm instinctively tightened around her waist to keep her from bolting. Bringing her legs up over her head, her knees connected squarely with his face. Angel howled and let go. The girl landed lightly on her feet. Whipping around, she brought her knee up into his groin. And when he bent over in pain, she brought her fist up directly underneath his chin. He went flying backwards to land on the grass flat on his back. She blew him a kiss and smiled sweetly.
"Sweet dreams." She turned around, her tousled hair falling softly on her shoulders, framing her oval face and delicate features.
"My pretty moppet," Spike
smiled. She ran into the house and into Spike's waiting arms.
He twirled her around a few times before he let her feet touch ground again.
"Did you miss me?" her eyes
sparkled with laughter.
"Of course I did, love,"
he replied, "What's it been? One, two years now?"
"A year and a half, about."
"You're all grown up now.
A regular stunner." He scanned her up and down, an admiring look
spreading across his face. She blushed.
"I see you haven't changed
a bit, Spike."
Joyce cleared her throat.
"Oh, right. Joyce,
this here's my very good friend, Angela. Angela, Joyce."
"Nice to meet you."
"Would you like some hot
chocolate?" Joyce smiled.
"Okay, thanks." Spike
leaned closer to Angela and whispered to her in a low voice. She
wrinkled her forehead in confusion and gave Spike a curious look.
He grinned at her. She turned back to Joyce.
"Um…could I please have
some of those little marshmallows?"
"So, how did you two meet?" Joyce peered over the
top of her coffee mug at Spike who was tossing marshmallows up into the
air and catching them in his mouth.
"It's a long story." Spike tossed another
marshmallow into the air.
Angela sipped at her hot chocolate."He tried to
bite me and I kicked his ass."
Spike turned to raise his eyebrows at Joyce.
"Apparently not that long." The marshmallow
bounced off his head.
Angela looked up from her mug.
"Slayer's at the door," she said quietly.
"Mom?" Joyce got up and peered through the
kitchen doorway just in
time for Buffy to run smack into her.
"Buffy, your friend Sp-" Joyce turned around.
Spike and Angela were gone.
Angel groaned and stirred.
"Angel! Are you okay?" Buffy ran outside
and knelt down beside him.
"That girl certainly is feisty," he mumbled.
He shook his head as Buffy pulled him to his feet.
"Angel, why don't you come on in," Buffy stated
as she stepped inside the kitchen, pulling him in behind her.
"Oh no. Buffy, wait. Okay, now I'm confused..."
Joyce stammered.
"What happened?"
"Spike was here. I tried to get in, but..."
he trailed off, recalling the reason why he hadn't been welcome in Buffy's
home.
"But you couldn't pass go and collect $200," finished
Buffy.
"Buffy, what is going on here?" Joyce looked back
and forth between Angel and her daughter.
Ignoring her mother, Buffy turned to Angel and filled him in.
"Willow and Xander are missing. Looked like
she was casting some witchcraft or something in the chem lab when they
were taken."
"Witchcraft? Willow's a witch?" Joyce stared
at Buffy.
"I'm guessing that's the reason why she and Xander
were taken," Buffy continued.
"Wait, Xander's a witch?" Joyce blinked in confusion.
Buffy grimaced.
"And I'll bet anything, Spike has something to do with this."
*Something's wrong* thought Angela as she walked side by side with the peroxide blond. She listened to him jabber on about the past two years since they had last seen each other and shook her head disapprovingly when she caught a strong whiff of alcohol accompanying the words that left Spike's mouth.
"And I said, 'Yeh, I'd like to see you try'…"
Then she realized. He hadn't spoken one word about Drusilla and
Angela knew how much he liked to talk about her. She wondered idly
where she was. She was curious, but she knew better than to confront
Spike about his girlfriend,
or lackthereof. Not only would he threaten bodily harm, but he'd
probably go through with it too, in the drunken state he was in.
Although Angela was worried more about Spike's condition, than for her
own safety.
*Maybe she's dust* she thought, not without a bit of malice.
Dru had never liked her. She had considered Angela a threat from the very beginning, baring her teeth at her when she knew Spike wasn't watching.
*As if I could ever steal Spike away from her* Angela gave a soft snort of disbelief and mentally gagged at the thought.
Not that she didn't think he was attractive. She turned and gazed
at his face. His alabaster skin in stark contrast to the
darkness that surrounded him created a sharp profile of his features.
The moonlight washed over his expressions, illuminating his pale skin.
But Spike was like a father figure to her, more of a brother type than
anything, really.
Her fondness and affection for him bordered on love, but she had never
considered him as anything more than a friend.
Lost in her own thoughts, Angela failed to hear the soft padding of footsteps behind them.
Suddenly, Spike groaned and bent over, his head in his hands.
"What's wrong?"
"I think I'm sobering up. It's horrid.
God, I wish I was dead," he moaned.
A familiar voice piped up behind them.
"Well, if you close your eyes and wish real hard…"