Your fault... is not 1
Angel came out of his office at the sound of raised voices, only to find Wesley hovering near Cordelia´s desk, stake in hand and facing off against a vampire in the small front room.
"Stay back," Wesley ordered in his best rogue demon–hunter voice, which wasn´t actually very good. Angel just didn´t have the heart to tell the man that.
"Bloody hell, just get Peaches," the vampire demanded, and even though the vampire´s body was largely hidden by the form of Xander Harris, professional Angel–hater extraordinaire, Angel knew that voice immediately. Knew and cringed. That and wondered which of the gods he had offended to have earned a visit from Dru´s annoying childe.
"William?" Angel asked, and Spike´s head came around the front of Xander as the vampire leaned forward.
"´Bout bloody time, Peaches. You need to soddin´ fix this," Spike demanded with a growl while walking around Xander to face off against Angel.
"Fix?" Angel asked, more than a little confused. If Spike meant the chip, Angel wasn´t about to fix anything. Then he looked over at Xander who had a look like a kicked puppy with his arms wrapped around his waist. Between that and the fact that Spike looked nauseous, Angel had a sudden urge to go back to bed and start the day over again later, like after they had left.
"Yes, bloody fix." Spike snapped.
"And what I am supposed to be fixing?" Angel asked.
"Us!" Spike snarled as he waved a hand between Xander and himself. Xander´s face took on a sullen expression as he opened his mouth.
"Fix you, you mean. This is your fault," Xander snapped.
"Whoa. Time out. I can´t deal with this until I have some coffee and some blood, and not in that order." Ignoring his guests, Angel quickly fixed his breakfast while Spike and Xander glared at each other until Angel wanted to slap both of them.
"Angel, do you want me to leave?" Wesley whispered as Angel took his blood out of the microwave. Angel looked over to where Spike and Xander were having a quiet argument, Spike leaning close into Xander´s body and Xander gesturing madly.
"Oh no. I´ll be outnumbered," Angel said in sudden horror. Wesley choked back a small laugh, and when Angel went back to his office, everyone followed. Angel settled himself into his chair and Wesley sat on the edge of his desk while Spike and Xander took the two visitors´ chairs and scooted them as far away from each other as possible before sitting.
"I´m sure I´m going to regret this, but one of you needs to tell me what happened," Angel said as he braced himself.
"It´s his fault," Xander started, and Angel flinched even though he had expected this.
"Oi, is not."
"Is too."
"Was your friends´ soddin´ plan."
"Was your ´soddin´ teeth." Xander mocked Spike with a nasty sneer of his own.
"Just get to the story!" Angel growled as his hands tightened dangerously on his mug. The idea of Spike´s teeth being involved in some sort of trouble made this seem suddenly more serious.
"Fine," Spike growled as he shot Angel a look of death. "Started ´bout three weeks ago.
"Oh, hey, NO!" Xander interrupted. "It started two nights ago."
"He can´t bloody help unless he knows what happened you worthless nob."
"He doesn´t need to know THAT much," Xander inturrupted with a near panicked tone. "It started two nights ago when a demon started hunting in the clubs and Buffy tracked him back to his demon club, and whoever knew there were demon clubs in Sunnydale what with there being a slayer and all. Well, I guess you being a demon might´ve known since Spike knew, and Buffy is still not happy about that."
"Oi, you can´t tell a story to save your worthless soul, so shut up and let me tell it," Spike demanded
"Me? I can´t tell a story? Hey, at least I know how to speak English, Blood–Breath."
"I do speak English you twit."
"Not good."
"Bloody better than you. I´m from England you ponce, where they invented the language. And at least I bloody know that ´good´ in´t an adverb OR a noun."
"Hey, is that an insult?"
"If you were smart enough ta figure it out, it would be," Spike smirked. Angel considered stepping in, but really considering the grief these two had put him through he really preferred to watch the floorshow instead.
"At least I can say the words ´isn´t´ and ´to´," Xander barked back as he scooted his chair so that he was facing Spike.
"At least I can stay the words ´cretin´ and ´imbecilic.´ Although, with enough trainin´ you could probably say the words even if you didn´t understand ´em´," Spike shot back, and Angel could hear a small huff of suppressed laughter from Wesley. Spike must have heard as well because he flashed a smile in their general direction even while Xander snapped back.
"Hey! That´s not nice. Besides, at least I don´t have a leash in my head like some sort of dog."
"No, you´re just a soddin´ little lapdog all on your own, aren´t ya? Taggin´ around after Slutty even after she´s moved on ta bigger and better than you." Angel could tell from the way Spike ran his tongue inside his lower lip that Spike was enjoying himself, and Angel understood the urge after having been the brunt of many of Xander´s barbs himself.
"It´s called friendship and loyalty," Xander snarled.
"It´s called pathetic and obtuse."
"And again with the unfairness. At least use insults I recognize."
"Oi, and you accuse me of not speakin´ English? What the hell language is that, then?"
"Hey, I speak just fine. Fine with the speakage and fine with the friendage, and you´re just being like this because you´re a no–bite wonder now with that chip in your head."
"I bit you, didn´t I?"
"That was magic, that doesn´t count."
"Whoa, wait. You bit him?" Angel quickly interrupted as he held up his hand. He was just as happy to let these two kill themselves without his help, but if Spike was back to biting, he was back on the ´hunt down and kill´ list, and as much as Angel didn´t want to admit it, he wasn´t fond of the idea of hunting down or killing his childer.
"Too bad I can´t bloody do it again and finish it right this time," Spike confirmed. Angel ran his hand over his face in confusion, but Xander´s fingers automatically went to the side of his neck, and Angel could feel a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach. Pushing himself up, he got around the desk with vampiric speed and pulled Xander to his feet before pushing the boy´s head to the side to look for the evidence. Xander´s "Hey!" of protest was expected; Spike´s possessive growl was definitely not. However, before he stepped back, Angel found what he wanted: an oval–shaped pink scar.
"William, what have you done?" Angel demanded even though he knew full well what had happened. Or at least how things had ended because he really had no idea how they had gotten to that point. And come to think of it, he wasn´t really clear on their present behavior either. Xander crossed his arms over his chest.
"We bloody bonded," Spike snarled unhappily.
