Boys In The Basement
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona
Mild silliness with our favourite souled vampires. Slash implied but not
explicit, so adult rating. Knowledge of seasons 7 (Buffy) and 4 (Angel) very useful.
Disclaimer: Not my characters-- Joss Whedon's.
You’ve heard of L-space, Pratchett’s theory that has all libraries connecting, right? Well, now meet B-space, in which all basements connect.
~~~
1: Rats
Spike slumped into the corner by his Sire and sighed. “Rats for dinner again. Don’t you just hate them?”
“Rats these days aren’t as tasty as they used to be,” Angel said, darkly. “When I started eating rat full-time, they were big and juicy.”
“London’s town rats. I remember those.”
“I prefer dock ones. Slightly salty aftertaste.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“I deserved it.”
“Oh, not that again. Why do you have to do the guilty routine all the time? It’s getting boring.”
“Well, it’s your fault. I came down here for a good brood, and you just gatecrashed.”
“The gate had rusted through, Angel. Besides, I’ve got to get some brooding lessons from somewhere—they don’t just arrive with the soul, you know.”
“They don’t? I always thought mine did.”
“Nah. You’re just a ponce.”
“If you say so. Are you going to finish that rat, or not?”
Briefly, Spike considered the bedraggled lump of fur. “You want it?” Angel leant across to take the thing, but Spike grabbed his wrist. “Open your mouth.”
“What?”
“Open. Your. Mouth. It’s simple.”
Angel gave the younger vampire one of his patented Funny Looks, and then complied. Almost delicately, Spike bent the corpse’s backbone so that the wound oozed nicely, and allowed the resulting blood to drip onto Angel’s waiting tongue.
~~~
2: Again (post episodes Never Leave Me for Buffy and Habeas Corpses for Angel)
“You again?”
“Me again.”
“What happened to your chest?”
“Minions of darkness. Your neck?”
“Stake.”
“Some guy missed? I’d have thought you were hard to miss, but…”
“Shut up, Spike.”
“What’s brought this mood on, then?”
“How can you be so cheerful?”
“Well, now the Hellmouth’s open, I figure Buffy’ll be along soon, searching the basement and rescuing me and whatnot. She seems very set on looking after me these days.”
“Lucky bastard.”
“I though you were all into the Cordelia chick these days.”
“Yeah. And she’s into Connor.”
“What? Your son?”
“Yeah.”
A pause.
“Into meaning, what, exactly? Into ‘looking after’ or into…”
“Into having sex with.”
“Ah. That’s… weird. I mean, I knew Drusilla got off on all the ‘daddy’ stuff, but I didn’t reckon on it running in the family quite that way.”
“Neither did I.”
“Still, you’ve always got me, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
~~~
3: Getting Meta
“Rat?”
“Nasty chest wounds you’ve got there.”
“Yeah—evil thing bled me to open the Hellmouth.”
“Nothing new happening, then?”
“Not really. Your son still sleeping with that chit you fell for?”
“As far as I know.”
“It’s shocking, what girls do these days.”
“Some are more shocking than others. Is the Hellmouth still open?”
“I don’t think so. It closed when the Turok-Han came out.”
“The what?”
“You know-- Turok-Han. Mythological uber!vamp.”
“Oh, I remember. I used to scare Drusilla with stories about them.”
“Back in the day.”
“Back in the nights. When I was… when we were evil.”
“And we aren’t now?”
“We both have souls.”
“That doesn’t stop us being evil, Angelus.”
“I’m not Angelus any more.”
“Oh, aren’t you? Because I am. I’m still Spike, and I’m still evil, even if I try not to be.”
“Shut up, Spike.”
“What are doing, telling me to shut up? You’re a fucking hallucination.”
“No I am not! You’re a figment of my imagination!”
“Am not!”
“You mean—you’re real?”
“It’s you that’s not.”
“Spike, are we both really here?”
“Looks like to me. But I’m crazy, you don’t want to trust me.”
“No, I don’t. However, on this occasion I agree with you. Which leaves the questions how, and why, and where, are we?”
“Does it matter? There’s still some juice left in this rat.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
~~~
4: Issues
“So you’ve got your soul back, then, Broody Boy?”
“Courtesy of Willow, yes. You managed to keep yours?”
“Yeah. I’m not relying on a stupid gypsy spell, either.”
“Why are you in such a bad mood today, Spike? I brought the best blood I could get.”
“The folks in Sunnydale were overcome with a sudden desire to have me work out my issues. Stupid American psychiatry crap.”
“To get rid of the trigger?”
“None of your business.”
“Why don’t you want to tell me?”
“You’d get upset.” Spike smirks, remembering.
“Look, Spike, I was Angelus only the other day. I did horrible things. I know what you’ve done in the past. Unless you killed Buffy, nothing you did could be worse than what I’ve done recently.”
“But,” and suddenly the grin and the candle-lit blue eyes are turned full-power onto Angel, “it wouldn’t have to be *worse*, would it?”
“What are you talking about, Spike?” Angel asks, but he can guess. Not Buffy, that idea he’s dealt with—one of the others. Willow? Surely not. One of the men, maybe. Not Xander, but… Giles? The principal Willow said they were working with? The other, what was his name—Andy? Arnold?
“Oh, I think you understand, Angelus…”
“I’m not Angelus! I have my soul!”
“I have a soul and I’m still Spike.”
Drawn by the confrontational tone of the familiar argument, Angel sits up, only to hit his head on a random pipe. “Damn! Interdimentional basement, and it’s still full of bloody piping.”
“That’s what basements are for, you ponce.” Spike moves across, kneeling in front of Angel, taking control. “Besides, technically speaking, you’re wrong. This,” a tap on the pipe over Angel’s head, “is an unbloodied pipe. Bloody plumbing is to be found,” and Spike’s hand is clever, unzipping and slipping inside, then grasping, fondling, “here.”
“Spike!” Almost a gasp.
“Is that as yes or a no, Angelus?”
Deep breath, and Angel’s in control again, of his voice if not the way his cock is hardening in Spike’s hand. “It’s a no, at the moment.”
He grabs hold of Spike’s shoulders and shoves the blond backwards. The hand still in his trousers persuades him to move as well, so that he ends up lying full length on top of Spike.
“Great! The poof says ‘no’, and then turns us into a big old heap o’vampire. Are you sure Willow didn’t take you brain out when she put your soul back in?”
“Oh, shut up.”
“Make me.”
So Angel did, quickly, simply, efficiently, and in a manner than—while it didn’t lead to total silence—did keep Spike quiet for some time.