Unmentionables

[shapinglight]

Here's the second one.


Setting: AtS season 5, just after Hellbound
Rating: I think there's some naughty words, so R. Also, Angel is being a dick. I'm afraid I find it far too easy to write him that way these days. I blame the Buffy comics. Comics!Angel annoys me.
Pairing: None as such. Spike, Angel and Eve.

Unmentionables



Angel peered through the slit in the cell door into the bare, brightly lit interior.

"And you're sure this will contain him? No walking through walls or anything?"

"Sure," Eve said, in her too knowing voice. "Like I said, Wolfram & Hart are good at keeping our unmentionables unmentionable."

"And what about that spell to make the others forget he was ever here? When will that get done?"

Eve's cell phone rang. "Sorry, Angel. I have to take this call." She turned her back on him and walked some distance down the long, cell-lined corridor. Angel tried to listen in on the conversation, but vampire hearing or no, he couldn't make it out.

He turned his attention back to the cell in front of him, inside which Spike was pacing up and down, duster flapping around his ankles, feet, unnervingly, an inch or two above the ground. He was muttering to himself, but the cell was sound proof and Angel couldn't make out what he was saying.

"Excuse me? Angel?" Eve was calling him. Angel turned to look at her.

"If you wanna talk to him, just press that button in front of you."

Angel blinked. Did he? Why the hell not? Gloating was the winner's prerogative, wasn't it?

He pressed the button. "How's it going in there?"

At once, Spike's face was pressed up against the glass, nose inches from Angel's own. He looked furious.

"Lemme out of here, you wanker!"

"Uh-uh," Angel shook his head. "You're staying right there. I can't risk you on the loose after what nearly happened to Fred."

Spike's blue eyes flashed gold. "But it didn't happen, did it? I saved her."

"I'm not sure I believe that," Angel said. "I know how desperate you were to have your body back. You'd have done anything - anything at all - including letting Pavayne kill Fred. Luckily for her, he must have stumbled into the machinery and got re-corporealised in your stead."

Spike's eyes widened, "No..." he protested, but Angel held up his hand.

"I don't wanna hear it, Spike. I have my people's safety to think of. Until I can be certain you're not a danger to them, you're staying right here."

Spike's face looked stricken. With a supreme effort, Angel managed not to smirk.

"When will that be?" Spike asked.

"I haven't decided, but I'd prepare yourself for a good long stay, if I were you. A decade or so, maybe longer."

Spike stared at him. Gradually, the stricken look was replaced by cold, hard anger.

"You bastard!" Spike growled. "You know I'm not a danger to anyone. You know it. You just want rid of me, don't you?" He swaggered a little. "What's the matter, Angelus? Can't stand the competition?"

Angel glared at him. "I'm not Angelus, and don't talk nonsense."

"Oh, it's not nonsense," Spike's voice had taken on a sneering tone. "You always were a right selfish git. Everything has to revolve around you, or you just can't stand it." He leaned forward, eyes narrowed and vicious. "Can tell you one thing - when I was screwing Buffy, it was my name she called out in her sleep, not yours. She. Liked. Me. Better."

"This has nothing to do with Buffy." Angel glared. Trust Spike to hit a nerve. "This is to do with you being a loose cannon. And I don't like the way you've latched on to Fred. She's not safe with you around."

"Bollocks!"

Spike glared, but then his voice took on a cajoling tone. "But what about redemption? You care about that, don't you? Well, so do I, and one thing's for sure, I'll never make up for my crimes locked away in here."

"True," Angel agreed. "But at least you're not a danger to women." He glanced over his shoulder, to see Eve still muttering into her cell phone. What was keeping her? "At any rate, you're staying put. So better get used to it."

Spike gazed around the empty cell. "But there's nothing in here. Nothing to eat, nothing to drink. What am I supposed to do all day?"

"You're a ghost," Angel said, patiently. "You don't need to eat or drink. As for what you can do, you can contemplate your sins. Do some repenting."

"Sod that." Spike flung his arm out suddenly, and to Angel's astonishment, the cell was no longer bare, but furnished in some style - bed, chairs, pictures on the walls - even a TV similar to the state of the art set-up Angel had in his office.

"What the..." Angel stared. "How the hell did you do that?"

Spike smiled a cool smile. "Didn't I tell you? Pavayne taught me a thing or two when we were ghosties together. Reality bends to desire. Bet I could break out of here any time I wanted, if I set my mind to it." He leaned forward, suddenly menacing. "You might wake up tonight and find me looking right back at you."

Angel realised he'd taken a step back. He shook his head. "No. Eve promised me."

Spike craned his head to see down the corridor, where Eve was still having her whispered conversation.

"Eve promised you? Blimey, mate, you're further gone than I thought."

At that moment, Eve clicked her cellphone off and came back towards them.

"Ah, you know what," Spike said, "forget it. I'm gonna watch some telly. But just to please you, Angelus, maybe I'll do some repentin' afterwards."

"Good. Great." Still disconcerted, Angel turned to Eve. "All well?"

Eve looked apologetic. "Sort of. I'm afraid the forgetting spell is a no-no. The Senior Partners want to keep their options open. Oh my!" She'd seen the interior of the cell, where Spike, floating cross-legged in mid-air, was watching a soccer game on TV. "That puts a different complexion on things."

"No, it doesn't!" Angel took her arm and hurried her away, while Spike's voice rang out behind him.

"Be seeing you, Angelus. Maybe sooner than you think."