#i'm still not in love with my spangel but its going somewhere

[leatafandom]

I wish you would write a fic where...

In s4 of BtVS, Angel finds out about Spike's chip and seeks him out to help him adjust.

Look who actually finished a Spangel prompt! I have always freakin’ thought about this. Like why wouldn't Angel stick around for a bit or come back or since they have obviously just been talking to him just call him about it? I actually wrote something much shorter, but then I remembered how much I loved season 4 and then got distracted by rewatching season four. It got much longer very quickly with more angst and almost smut.

Thank you for the ask, love. I’m happy the muse was finally moved toward the Spangel! I hope you enjoy it <3 

Spike's head lay back against the chair he had claimed in Xander's basement, anger, frustration, and hunger plucking at him as he stared at the ceiling. His thoughts swirled at his uselessness, slumped in the chair where the Scoobies had left him until his nose sniffed the air. 

"Go away," Spike bit out, as the beads swayed and Angel appeared in the doorway. "I'm not in the mood for you." 

The elder vampire's fingers poked at the swaying beads as he passed through them before taking in the space and his grandchilde. Spike frowned at him, only moving to glare at him.  

"I heard what happened," Angel started as he looked around them, left hand going to his waist as his right hand patted his side idly, gripping a large nondescript bag. 

The blonde huffed out a scoffing laugh that any of Buffy's groupies would call Angel and spill his business to the guilt-driven vampire. "So which one of them called you?" His head tilted back, a harsh sound breaking past his lips when Angel looked away from him, uncomfortable. 

Blue eyes squinted on the vampire's shifting shoulders. "Giles…" the auburn-haired vampire's head tilted to the side walking around the space. "Willow…and Xander called last night." Spike rolled his eyes, chortling before Angel paused, pivoting back to him. "I didn't know he had my number." Angel frowned, grumbling under his breath. "How did he get my number?" 

Spike's head went back, scoffing before a bitter laugh bubbled from his chest, his head going back with it. Angel frowned brown eyes roving over the slumped blonde as his head rolled to look back at him. 

"They just thought I could-"

"You could what exactly, Da?" Spike taunted, his grin smug. 

The auburn-haired vampire's brows lowered. "That I could help you adapt," Angel hissed glaring at the seated vampire. "Maybe you forgot with that thing taking up space in your head, that not being able to hurt a human isn't new for me." 

Spike stubbornly held his elder's glare before he blew out a hard dismissive breath and looked away, his fingers idly picking at the chair, not looking at him when Angel took an unneeded breath. The auburn-haired vampire groaned, hanging his head and talking to the floor. 

"You're not drinking enough," Angel chided after a moment of taking in Spike’s weakened condition and taking a step closer to him.

The elder watched as Spike’s expression turned somber in the quiet that fell between them. Angel shuffled closer to him in the stilted air. 

“What is the point?" Spike didn't look at him, glowering at the blank screen of the television. "Where's the fun? What is the point of me without my fangs?" His words were bitter as he gave a voice to the questions swirling within him in the presence of the only being that could give him an answer.

"Will…" Angel's voice was a pained wince, stopping to stand near him, worry edged into his lowered brow.

"Seriously, Peaches," he pressed, blue eyes glancing up at him. "What's the bloody point? Your sodding soul keeps you sad about it. You can't miss it. I miss it. I was damned good at being bad." His hands moved to the side in his outrage. "Who the hell is William the Bloody without fangs?” He asked, eyes searching for an answer in Angel's conflicted expression. 

Angel exhaled harshly, looking away from the desperation that filled the other's eyes. He should have come sooner or never left. The elder sighed, looking to the sofa, not too far from Spike, he had been too focused on avoiding Buffy. 

“Just because I have a soul doesn't mean I don't feel like less of a vampire," Angel grumbled, walking towards the beat-up sofa and glaring at it. "It doesn't mean I don't miss the excitement or the days when it was just you and the girls…" 

Angel frowned, his brows lowering as he thought about the first few years without them, taking an uneasy seat on the couch. Spike shifted watching as the elder settled, clearly uncomfortable, onto the seat across from him. 

"For the record, I was better at being bad than you were," the elder placed the bag at his feet as he spoke the baiting taunt, focusing on taking care of the blonde.

Spike huffed out a laugh at the memories of old Angelus and the avoidance of his question. His blue eyes didn't lift from him as he watched Angel dig around in his bag, his jaw clicking from side to side. 

“Stop glaring at me and come here. You look like shit.” 

The blonde rolled his eyes, standing sluggishly only when Angel looked at him again with a raised brow. He grumbled watching as Angel pulled out two thermoses of blood. 

"I'll stop glarin' when you stop topping my sob story and answer me," Spike snapped, eyeing the large insulated flask and sinking unceremoniously into the seat beside Angel, his lips pursed. 

"I'm getting to it," Angel gruffed, shaking his head and shoving one into Spike's hands. "Here, shut up and drink it before it cools down."

Spike wrapped his hands around the warmth he could feel before opening it and gulping down the warmed blood. Angel watched him, fingers scraping at his own thermos, eyes roving over Spike's throat as he swallowed down the warm pig's blood.  

"Spike, you are much more than just blood. You just need to find something to channel your bloodlust into," the elder offered, gaze transfixed by the trickle of blood that escaped the blonde's lips. "I did… eventually," he added, forcing himself to look away from the younger vampire.

Spike finished the oversized thermos with a slurping gulp, tongue dashing out to clean his lips before swiping the back of his hand across them. He kept his eyes closed, hands hanging between his spread knees, only opening them the drained bottle was switched out with the one Angel had been cradling. 

"Least you can still kill something," Spike mumbled, wrist turning and sloshing the pig's blood inside of the new thermos.

Angel slid the old thermos back into his bag. His brows pinched, looking back to the pouting blonde that was fiddling with the cup between his spread knees.

"Have you tried?" Blue eyes turned up to him at the hesitant question. Angel shifted, sitting back on the sofa. "When has anyone ever cared when we hurt each other?" 

Spike's eyes rolled away from him, thinking about his grandsire's point, afraid to get his hopes up. His lips pulled down, shaking his head with a grumbled denial. He hadn't thought about letting his demon free on another vampire until he had smelt Angel tonight.

"Of course, you didn't," Angel grumbled with a roll of his eyes. He shifted, turning to sit facing him on the small shared sofa before motioning for the other to hit him. "Come on. Best shot, Spike."  

Spike arched a brow at him before grinning, a free shot at Angel, even with the possibility of mind-numbing pain included, wasn't something he could.ever pass up. The blonde grinned, pulling his fist back before landing an unbridled punch with a satisfying crunch.  

"In the face, Spike?! Seriously?" 

"Bloody Hell!" Spike cursed, gripping his ringed fist before shaking it out with a broad grin when nothing but his knuckles twitched with a quickly vanishing pain. "Angel, I could kiss you!"

"You better kiss me," Angel groaned cupping his face as it healed, his eyes yellow as he glared at the cackling blonde. 

"If that's an invitation luv. I'll do more than kiss you."