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Trying to help

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A look of pure loathing crossed Spike’s face as he watched Angelus and Dru laugh and play in front of him. The two of them couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. They acted as if he didn’t have any feelings or worse like he wasn’t even there.

“Thought he would be busy killin’ the Slayer. But it’s been months and all he wants to do is play around where he doesn’t belong.” Spike muttered beneath his breath as he glared daggers at Angelus’ back.

“What’s the matter with you, Spikey?” Angelus murmured, his lips against the soft skin of Dru’s neck. Her loud giggles almost drowned out the question. “I’m only trying to be helpful and take care of things...” His hand dipped below Dru’s waist as he continued, “that you can’t.”

Spike did his best to ignore the thinly veiled innuendo. “I thought you were all set to kill the Slayer. Weren’t you the one who said you had to love her in order to kill her? It’s been months and still no dead Slayer.” He raised his eyebrows as he stared at Angelus. “Maybe you didn’t love her enough.” His lips curled into a sneer. “No. I don’t think so. Could it be you love her too much? Is that it? I saw you with her, you were all dewy eyed and love struck. And it was right sickening. The great Angelus in love with the Slayer.” A snort of derision escaped him. “It was all I could do to keep from hurling.”

A loud growl rumbled deep in Angelus’ chest before it escaped and echoed around the room. “I’m warning you, Spike.”

“Pfft. If you can’t kill the Slayer, I’m pretty sure I’m safe.”

The words were barely out of Spike’s mouth before Angelus was in front of him, his hands on the armrests of his wheelchair and his face inches from Spike’s. Angelus’ lips pulled further back from his teeth as he leaned even closer. “I told you before, Spikey. She’s as good as dead as soon as I...”

Spike quickly interrupted. “Do you know what I find is better than ‘as good as dead’? Dead. All the way dead. And before you start spouting on about it lacking a certain artistry or poetry to it; dead has all kinds of poetry about it. How about... There once was a Slayer who let a vampire named Angelus lay....”

“Damn it, Spike.” A snarl ripped from his throat and his fingers practically itched to rip the younger vampire’s head off. Why did Spike insist on keep reminding about things that he really didn’t want to remember? It had taken him weeks and more blood then he could count to get the taste of love out of his mouth. “I could...” With another, louder snarl his vampire visage began to show.

Dru clapped her hands eagerly, her body swaying back and forth to an unheard melody. “Oooh, Daddy wants to play.”

Angelus turned his head to stare at Dru. With a look of lustful cruelty on his face Angelus stood straight and began to stalk towards Dru. “I tell you what, Spikey. You go ahead and wonder about things that don’t concern you. And while you’re busy doing that I’ll be busy...” He paused to look back over his shoulder and a wicked smile graced his face. “I’ll be busy doing Dru.”

Spike narrowed his eyes before he spun his wheelchair around and left the room. It was past time he put a plan in motion. If Angelus could take care of Dru then perhaps it was high time he decided to take care of the Slayer. After all he was only trying to be helpful.