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morgynleriTitle: To Rescue Angelus
Co-author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
auberus
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
AU: Wish!verse
Rating: PG13
Characters: Spike, Rupert Giles
Word Count: 2210
Summary: Spike isn't interested in the Master's plans for Sunnydale, and he strikes a bargain that will change the course of a history.
To Rescue Angelus
Chapter 1
Spike took a final drag from his cigarette. He'd been lurking outside the library for almost half an hour, weighing his choices. The librarian who led this little group of vigilantes seemed to have a decent head on his shoulders, and his eyes were ruthless enough to suggest that he might not be averse to a temporary alliance with a vampire, if it got him what he wanted.
Dropping his cigarette to the pavement and grinding it out with the toe of his boot, Spike slipped in through the school's unlocked side door. He could feel the Hellmouth vibrating beneath him, a sensation that got stronger the closer he got to the library. By the time he'd reached the double doors, he could tell he was standing practically on top of the bloody thing.
He pushed the doors open cautiously and poked his head into the room. It wasn't the sort of entrance he normally preferred to make; then again, that sort of entrance wasn't likely to lead to anything like a truce.
Giles set the book he'd just pulled from the shelf aside when he heard the door to the library open, picking up the crossbow propped against the shelf instead. He'd sent the children home hours ago, expecting to spend the night going through some of his books. Clearly someone hadn't gotten the memo.
He moved slowly and quietly towards the front, listening for any movement beyond his own. Looking through the gap between the top of books and a shelf into the empty area in front of the doors, he frowned. Bleached blond hair and sharp eyes, black leather and a pretty face. Attractive enough to distract him for a moment from the pallor of the man's skin.
Lifting the crossbow, Giles stepped around the edge of the shelf, his aim steady, though he didn't pull the trigger yet. "Most vampires don't come here, much less on their own."
Spike stepped the rest of the way through the door, trusting to his reflexes to catch the bolt if the librarian should fire. The man's heart-rate had increased, but he looked wary rather than afraid. Spike approved.
"I'm not most vampires," he shrugged, tucking his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans. "I'm not here for the traditional bloodshed an' slaughter, either." He tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. "How would you feel about a truce?"
Giles raised an eyebrow in surprise, though he didn't lower his guard. "Why would a vampire want a truce? And why would you think I'd trust you to honor that truce, if I were interested?"
"Because I've no more love for old Bat-Face than you do," Spike said flatly, letting his distaste for his ancient progenitor show in the curl of his lip. "I want him dust, and neither of us can do it on our own. As far as trust goes," he spread his hands, palms upward, "if I really wanted to start something, you'd be dead already."
"Besides," he added, after pausing for a moment to let that thought sink in, "why bother to propose a truce I didn't plan on honoring?"
"Forgive me if I don't entirely believe you." Giles could feel the ache in his joints that told him he was going to pay for holding the crossbow up this long tomorrow. "And after the Master is dead, what would keep you from breaking the truce then?" Of course, there wasn't much to keep Giles from breaking the truce, either, at that point. Unless the vampire had a damned good bargaining chip.
"I keep my word," Spike said flatly. "Once the Master's good and dust, I'll be on the road and out of this bloody town. I've no interest in holding the Hellmouth or starting the apocalypse -- and that's got to make me a better option than the one you've got now. How long d'you think you've got before His Nibs decides to increase the casualty rate by opening the damned thing?" He cast a pointed glance downward. "He's always been a traditionalist, and you don't get more traditional than that, not in the Aurelian line."
The vampire did have a point, and Giles waited a heartbeat longer before slowly lowering the crossbow. "What is your name?"
"William," Spike said, mostly on impulse. The combination of competence and a British accent on the Hellmouth suggested a Watcher, and with his third Slayer only weeks under his belt, Spike was wary of setting off any immediate mental alarms. He was determined to get Angel out of the Master's claws, and didn't want to risk the collapse of his plans because of a Watcher's outrage.
Giles leaned the crossbow against the shelf, nodding slightly in acknowledgement of the name. "Giles," he returned, politely, though still warily. The name the vampire had given didn't sit well with him, but there was nothing he could particularly place about why.
"How exactly do you think a truce will help either of us achieve the goal of killing the Master?" He needed more information before he would actually agree to this truce. And he would have to deal with the children's questions when they found out about it. Giles doubted they would entirely understand why this might be their best chance to get rid of the Master.
"We can't either of us do it on our own, now can we?" Spike asked, fishing around in the pockets of his duster for his cigarettes. Finding them, he shook one out of the pack and started the search for his lighter. "I can get in, but I can't bring the whole bloody lot of them down from the inside; there are too many of them. But with me on the inside and your lot on the outside, we've got a fair shot at it." He slanted a glance at Giles. "And he's got someone locked up in those cages under the Bronze that could be of some use. But I'll need to use daylight to get him out, and for that I need human help."
"I would imagine so." Giles frowned slightly, one hand tapping on the bookcase a moment. "Any help that can be found would be helpful, but I am at a loss to think of what someone who has been in the custody of the Master for very long would be able to do to help. Should they even care to do so."
"He might not be much use at first," Spike admitted, mouth twisting as he remembered Angelus cowed and begging at a fledgling's feet. "But he'll heal. And once he does -- " This time, his mouth twisted in a very different expression altogether. It might have passed for a smile if not for the violence that lurked beneath the curve of his lips. Finally locating his lighter, he fished it out and applied flame to cigarette, looking through his eyelashes at Giles.
"He'll help. If I know him at all, he'll help."
There had been just enough fire in Angelus' eyes -- just enough desperate hatred when he'd looked at his tormentors -- to convince Spike of that much.
Giles raised an eyebrow, meeting the vampire's gaze steadily and with more confidence than he was entirely sure he had. If this mystery man of William's had been too long a recipient of the Master's hospitality, he doubted he'd be much more than a wreck, even given time to heal, if he were human.
"Would this mystery man of yours happen to have a name, William?" The question of why William would want to rescue the man went unsaid, hanging in the air between them.
Spike hesitated, taking a drag from his cigarette to cover the momentary uncertainty. Angelus' name was infamous and as recognizable as his own, especially if Giles were actually a Watcher. If he was, though, he was like no Watcher Spike had ever met or heard of. In the end, he compromised; gave the name that his grandsire had chosen after being ensouled.
"Angel," he said on a cloud of smoke; then added reluctantly. "He's not a man, either -- not any more than I am, at least." There -- let the Watcher chew on that, if Watcher he was. For a vampire to make a deal with humans to save another was unheard of, at least in undead circles; it was the main reason he'd decided on his present course of action, and was certain to be as unexpected to a Watcher as he was hoping it would be to the Master.
"Indeed." Giles did his best to keep his surprise out of his voice and his expression, though he had no doubt the vampire would pick up on it. For him to arrange a truce for this - even as a secondary mention after getting rid of the Master - aroused Giles's curiosity as to why further. There was nothing in the Watchers' records that indicated any vampire had gone to these lengths to rescue another of their kind. Even their own Sire or offspring didn't earn this sort of loyalty and effort.
"I will have to talk to the children about this before I make a firm commitment." Giles paused, studying William with a small frown on his face. "Is there someplace I might contact you to finalize this possible truce, or might I presume you will be back here tomorrow night?"
He had already made up his mind that he would take the vampire up on his offer of truce, but he couldn't afford to be too eager - or at least to give the appearance of being eager to take him up on the offer. Not to mention, the children would be appalled when he told them about this, and rightly so. It didn't mean they could change his mind. Merely make this more or less difficult.
"I don't know," Spike said, taking a last drag of his cigarette before pinching it out and dropping the butt into his pocket. There was enough of William's love of books left in him that the idea of using a library floor for an ashtray was anathema. "If I come back tomorrow, am I gonna walk into a trap?" He caught Giles' eyes with his own, and peeled back a little of the friendly harmlessness he'd been trying to project; let the man get a glimpse of the Slayer of Slayers. "For the record, that would be a very bad idea."
Giles narrowed his eyes, his fingers curling around the crossbow a moment before he relaxed his grip. "I give my word that you will be free to come here without myself or the children causing you harm tomorrow night."
He could guarantee that, even if he couldn't persuade the children to keep to that promise afterwards, he could at least give William that much. And if the children objected to the truce itself, he could always arrange to give his assistance to the vampire, even if it was less helpful than having the children to help as well.
Spike studied him carefully. The man smelled like he was telling the truth; more importantly, Spike's intuition was saying the same thing. He nodded once. "In that case, you've got mine that I'll not show up with minions in tow looking for supper," he promised, not taking his gaze from Giles.
The mortal intrigued him, even beyond his temporary need for allies. There was a hint of ruthlessness beneath the bookish exterior with which the man was entirely comfortable -- unusual in a librarian, and even in a Watcher.
"A fair bargain, then. Forgive me if I don't seal it in any of the traditional manners." Giles smiled wryly. "Unless you had something more to add to the conversation, I still have work to do tonight."
"I'll leave you to it, then, Watcher," Spike said, eyes fixed on Giles' face for a reaction to the last word.
Giles flinched slightly at the title the vampire had bestowed him, a frown crossing his face, but he said nothing to confirm or deny the supposition. "Good night, William," he said instead, dismissal clear in his tone, even though he didn't take his attention away from the vampire - he did have a strong sense of self-preservation, after all.
Spike smirked, then nodded and backed out the door, his suspicions confirmed by Giles' slight flinch. He'd have to be extra careful tomorrow night, lest the Watcher research William of Aurelius in the meantime and discover just who it was he'd entered into a bargain with. Even an unconventional Watcher was certain to balk at the idea of working with a vampire who'd killed three Slayers, especially with the third only a month in the ground. Pausing outside the doors, he lit another cigarette as he made his way through the school's darkened corridors, the feel of the Hellmouth retreating with every step he took.
Giles watched William go, the small frown still on his face, waiting a long several moments before going to the doors and locking them before he went back into the stacks. Only this time, he ignored the books he'd been intending to read in favor of locating what scant records he had ready access to on paper on various vampires and their blood-lines.
Crossposted:
AO3, LiveJournal, my website
Co-author:
auberusFandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
AU: Wish!verse
Rating: PG13
Characters: Spike, Rupert Giles
Word Count: 2210
Summary: Spike isn't interested in the Master's plans for Sunnydale, and he strikes a bargain that will change the course of a history.
Chapter 1
Spike took a final drag from his cigarette. He'd been lurking outside the library for almost half an hour, weighing his choices. The librarian who led this little group of vigilantes seemed to have a decent head on his shoulders, and his eyes were ruthless enough to suggest that he might not be averse to a temporary alliance with a vampire, if it got him what he wanted.
Dropping his cigarette to the pavement and grinding it out with the toe of his boot, Spike slipped in through the school's unlocked side door. He could feel the Hellmouth vibrating beneath him, a sensation that got stronger the closer he got to the library. By the time he'd reached the double doors, he could tell he was standing practically on top of the bloody thing.
He pushed the doors open cautiously and poked his head into the room. It wasn't the sort of entrance he normally preferred to make; then again, that sort of entrance wasn't likely to lead to anything like a truce.
Giles set the book he'd just pulled from the shelf aside when he heard the door to the library open, picking up the crossbow propped against the shelf instead. He'd sent the children home hours ago, expecting to spend the night going through some of his books. Clearly someone hadn't gotten the memo.
He moved slowly and quietly towards the front, listening for any movement beyond his own. Looking through the gap between the top of books and a shelf into the empty area in front of the doors, he frowned. Bleached blond hair and sharp eyes, black leather and a pretty face. Attractive enough to distract him for a moment from the pallor of the man's skin.
Lifting the crossbow, Giles stepped around the edge of the shelf, his aim steady, though he didn't pull the trigger yet. "Most vampires don't come here, much less on their own."
Spike stepped the rest of the way through the door, trusting to his reflexes to catch the bolt if the librarian should fire. The man's heart-rate had increased, but he looked wary rather than afraid. Spike approved.
"I'm not most vampires," he shrugged, tucking his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans. "I'm not here for the traditional bloodshed an' slaughter, either." He tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. "How would you feel about a truce?"
Giles raised an eyebrow in surprise, though he didn't lower his guard. "Why would a vampire want a truce? And why would you think I'd trust you to honor that truce, if I were interested?"
"Because I've no more love for old Bat-Face than you do," Spike said flatly, letting his distaste for his ancient progenitor show in the curl of his lip. "I want him dust, and neither of us can do it on our own. As far as trust goes," he spread his hands, palms upward, "if I really wanted to start something, you'd be dead already."
"Besides," he added, after pausing for a moment to let that thought sink in, "why bother to propose a truce I didn't plan on honoring?"
"Forgive me if I don't entirely believe you." Giles could feel the ache in his joints that told him he was going to pay for holding the crossbow up this long tomorrow. "And after the Master is dead, what would keep you from breaking the truce then?" Of course, there wasn't much to keep Giles from breaking the truce, either, at that point. Unless the vampire had a damned good bargaining chip.
"I keep my word," Spike said flatly. "Once the Master's good and dust, I'll be on the road and out of this bloody town. I've no interest in holding the Hellmouth or starting the apocalypse -- and that's got to make me a better option than the one you've got now. How long d'you think you've got before His Nibs decides to increase the casualty rate by opening the damned thing?" He cast a pointed glance downward. "He's always been a traditionalist, and you don't get more traditional than that, not in the Aurelian line."
The vampire did have a point, and Giles waited a heartbeat longer before slowly lowering the crossbow. "What is your name?"
"William," Spike said, mostly on impulse. The combination of competence and a British accent on the Hellmouth suggested a Watcher, and with his third Slayer only weeks under his belt, Spike was wary of setting off any immediate mental alarms. He was determined to get Angel out of the Master's claws, and didn't want to risk the collapse of his plans because of a Watcher's outrage.
Giles leaned the crossbow against the shelf, nodding slightly in acknowledgement of the name. "Giles," he returned, politely, though still warily. The name the vampire had given didn't sit well with him, but there was nothing he could particularly place about why.
"How exactly do you think a truce will help either of us achieve the goal of killing the Master?" He needed more information before he would actually agree to this truce. And he would have to deal with the children's questions when they found out about it. Giles doubted they would entirely understand why this might be their best chance to get rid of the Master.
"We can't either of us do it on our own, now can we?" Spike asked, fishing around in the pockets of his duster for his cigarettes. Finding them, he shook one out of the pack and started the search for his lighter. "I can get in, but I can't bring the whole bloody lot of them down from the inside; there are too many of them. But with me on the inside and your lot on the outside, we've got a fair shot at it." He slanted a glance at Giles. "And he's got someone locked up in those cages under the Bronze that could be of some use. But I'll need to use daylight to get him out, and for that I need human help."
"I would imagine so." Giles frowned slightly, one hand tapping on the bookcase a moment. "Any help that can be found would be helpful, but I am at a loss to think of what someone who has been in the custody of the Master for very long would be able to do to help. Should they even care to do so."
"He might not be much use at first," Spike admitted, mouth twisting as he remembered Angelus cowed and begging at a fledgling's feet. "But he'll heal. And once he does -- " This time, his mouth twisted in a very different expression altogether. It might have passed for a smile if not for the violence that lurked beneath the curve of his lips. Finally locating his lighter, he fished it out and applied flame to cigarette, looking through his eyelashes at Giles.
"He'll help. If I know him at all, he'll help."
There had been just enough fire in Angelus' eyes -- just enough desperate hatred when he'd looked at his tormentors -- to convince Spike of that much.
Giles raised an eyebrow, meeting the vampire's gaze steadily and with more confidence than he was entirely sure he had. If this mystery man of William's had been too long a recipient of the Master's hospitality, he doubted he'd be much more than a wreck, even given time to heal, if he were human.
"Would this mystery man of yours happen to have a name, William?" The question of why William would want to rescue the man went unsaid, hanging in the air between them.
Spike hesitated, taking a drag from his cigarette to cover the momentary uncertainty. Angelus' name was infamous and as recognizable as his own, especially if Giles were actually a Watcher. If he was, though, he was like no Watcher Spike had ever met or heard of. In the end, he compromised; gave the name that his grandsire had chosen after being ensouled.
"Angel," he said on a cloud of smoke; then added reluctantly. "He's not a man, either -- not any more than I am, at least." There -- let the Watcher chew on that, if Watcher he was. For a vampire to make a deal with humans to save another was unheard of, at least in undead circles; it was the main reason he'd decided on his present course of action, and was certain to be as unexpected to a Watcher as he was hoping it would be to the Master.
"Indeed." Giles did his best to keep his surprise out of his voice and his expression, though he had no doubt the vampire would pick up on it. For him to arrange a truce for this - even as a secondary mention after getting rid of the Master - aroused Giles's curiosity as to why further. There was nothing in the Watchers' records that indicated any vampire had gone to these lengths to rescue another of their kind. Even their own Sire or offspring didn't earn this sort of loyalty and effort.
"I will have to talk to the children about this before I make a firm commitment." Giles paused, studying William with a small frown on his face. "Is there someplace I might contact you to finalize this possible truce, or might I presume you will be back here tomorrow night?"
He had already made up his mind that he would take the vampire up on his offer of truce, but he couldn't afford to be too eager - or at least to give the appearance of being eager to take him up on the offer. Not to mention, the children would be appalled when he told them about this, and rightly so. It didn't mean they could change his mind. Merely make this more or less difficult.
"I don't know," Spike said, taking a last drag of his cigarette before pinching it out and dropping the butt into his pocket. There was enough of William's love of books left in him that the idea of using a library floor for an ashtray was anathema. "If I come back tomorrow, am I gonna walk into a trap?" He caught Giles' eyes with his own, and peeled back a little of the friendly harmlessness he'd been trying to project; let the man get a glimpse of the Slayer of Slayers. "For the record, that would be a very bad idea."
Giles narrowed his eyes, his fingers curling around the crossbow a moment before he relaxed his grip. "I give my word that you will be free to come here without myself or the children causing you harm tomorrow night."
He could guarantee that, even if he couldn't persuade the children to keep to that promise afterwards, he could at least give William that much. And if the children objected to the truce itself, he could always arrange to give his assistance to the vampire, even if it was less helpful than having the children to help as well.
Spike studied him carefully. The man smelled like he was telling the truth; more importantly, Spike's intuition was saying the same thing. He nodded once. "In that case, you've got mine that I'll not show up with minions in tow looking for supper," he promised, not taking his gaze from Giles.
The mortal intrigued him, even beyond his temporary need for allies. There was a hint of ruthlessness beneath the bookish exterior with which the man was entirely comfortable -- unusual in a librarian, and even in a Watcher.
"A fair bargain, then. Forgive me if I don't seal it in any of the traditional manners." Giles smiled wryly. "Unless you had something more to add to the conversation, I still have work to do tonight."
"I'll leave you to it, then, Watcher," Spike said, eyes fixed on Giles' face for a reaction to the last word.
Giles flinched slightly at the title the vampire had bestowed him, a frown crossing his face, but he said nothing to confirm or deny the supposition. "Good night, William," he said instead, dismissal clear in his tone, even though he didn't take his attention away from the vampire - he did have a strong sense of self-preservation, after all.
Spike smirked, then nodded and backed out the door, his suspicions confirmed by Giles' slight flinch. He'd have to be extra careful tomorrow night, lest the Watcher research William of Aurelius in the meantime and discover just who it was he'd entered into a bargain with. Even an unconventional Watcher was certain to balk at the idea of working with a vampire who'd killed three Slayers, especially with the third only a month in the ground. Pausing outside the doors, he lit another cigarette as he made his way through the school's darkened corridors, the feel of the Hellmouth retreating with every step he took.
Giles watched William go, the small frown still on his face, waiting a long several moments before going to the doors and locking them before he went back into the stacks. Only this time, he ignored the books he'd been intending to read in favor of locating what scant records he had ready access to on paper on various vampires and their blood-lines.
Crossposted:
AO3, LiveJournal, my website