Prompt #153 - Jet Lag -Self-Sacrifice - Spikesdeb - BtVS/AtS

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Title: Self-Sacrifice
Fandom: BtVS/Ats
Author: spikesdeb
Prompt: #153 - Jet Lag
Rating: G.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1000 Words
Summary: Set during AtS Season 5 The Girl in Question. Angel and Spike saw Buffy in Rome, and I for one do not believe that at least one of them would leave it there. So, one of them didn't...
A/N : Thanks so much to seductivembrace for once more fixing my boo-boos and making my drivel fit for human consumption.

SELF-SACRIFICE

Spike wondered how long it would take for Angel to work out where he was. It wasn't like he'd miss the jet, but maybe the Viper would raise an inquisitive eyebrow, possibly a curse. But honestly, did anybody really not expect him to go back? Weren't they all, right now, sitting around nodding that they knew, of course? Spike could see it playing out in his mind as he settled back further into the deep, leather upholstery and closed his eyes, dislodging a number of mini-bar bottles to the floor. He yawned, and drifted off, mumbling that he must be sure to tell Wes that vampires could get jet-lag. That'd be one in the eye over the Watcher's council for watcher-junior, having knowledge that they didn't.

The pilot's announcement that they were about to begin their descent into Rome roused him and he stretched out, ignoring the command to put on his seat-belt. It had only been about twenty-four hours since he and Angel had taken off back to LA after the recovery of the head in a bag and the ever so tantalisingly close glimpse of Buffy. Hell, he'd made plans to come back even before they'd boarded the plane for the return flight. The only surprise was that Angel had swallowed the 'she's moved on, we should move on' spiel he spouted during the shared reminiscing once they were back in Angel's office.

As if Spike ever gave up on the woman he loved. Angel should have known that.

+ + +

Gunn leant against the door jamb and crossed his ankles, hands in his pockets. Angel was signing the never-ending pile of paperwork that came with the job of CEO at Wolfram and Hart and didn't look up, just grunted.

“Thought you'd want to know, he took the Viper, just like you said.”

Angel finished signing and threw down the pen, leaning back in his chair and rocking. “Yeah. He's always been predictable. Did they land yet?”

Gunn looked at his Rolex and shook his head. “Nah, another twenty minutes or so.”

“Right. Well, if you hear anything...”

Gunn turned and went to walk away before switching direction and walking over to lean on Angel's desk, forcing the vampire to look at him.

“Angel. Why are you doing this? Man, the hours I sat and listened to you whine about Buffy the great, and now you're just gonna hand her over all gift-wrapped?”

Angel glanced up at Gunn. The two of them had shared many a glass of fine Irish whisky while swapping tales of lost love, so it was perfectly understandable that Gunn would be puzzled. He was still a little shocked himself at his actions. But he'd known from the moment he and Spike watched a toss of familiar blond hair disappearing into the night that Spike would never walk away. He was certain of it when his irritating descendant swore that he'd moved on. Spike moving on from Buffy was as likely as Harmony typing a letter without errors. Never going to happen.

So, why had had he let Spike head back to Rome while he sat in his overstuffed chair in his necro-tinted office and signed demon agreements like he didn't care?

Truthfully? It was because he did care, so very much. He cared for Buffy, about her happiness. And damn him, he cared for Spike.

“Fait accompli, really,” Angel responded eventually. “He would've been out of here some other way if I'd blocked him.”

“So that's it? You've given up? After all the soul-searching and the brooding, you're not gonna fight for her?”

Angel smiled. “I am fighting for her. I'm letting her have what she wants.” He thought of the way Buffy had spoken of Spike being in her heart, just before the very confusing cookie-dough conversation had occurred. At the time, he'd been hurting and struggling to subdue the demon who was urging him to take the Slayer, make her regret her betrayal with his insolent get. But he'd had time to consider things since then, and putting that and Spike's own actions together had completed the picture for him. Buffy had moved on, and so had Spike. They'd moved on to each other and away from him.

And it was hard and he was ripped up inside, but that would pass with time. He'd done many terrible things in his long existence and no amount of atonement would fix that. Both Buffy and Spike had been recipients of his particular brand of emotional terror, and he owed them both some recompense in larger or smaller degree. Standing back was a start.

Gunn still didn't get it, but he left Angel to stare out of the window at the world passing by. It wasn't the first time the vampire had gone down the self-sacrifice route, and if that helped him sleep, well, so be it.

Angel heard the door click shut and rested his forehead against the glass. Spike would be landing about now, and it wouldn't be long before he caught up to Buffy. And yeah, she'd probably slap him around a bit, but in the end...no. He'd made his choice, made his sacrifice, but there was just no way he could complete that thought. Until Spike returned, as he would, to rub his nose in it, he would keep himself busy and maybe by the time he had to face up to the reality of Buffy and Spike together, he would be able to pretend, at least, that he was happy about it.

Right now there were helpless people to help and no end of bad guys to deal with. And if the odd demon was pummelled and slaughtered with added gusto because of a resemblance to Spike, well, who would care? Angel grabbed his coat and an axe and made his way to his private elevator, taking it down to the underground garage to slip into the night.