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 **Disclaimer: This is a standard disclaimer. I do not own anything in the Angel-verse or Buffy-verse. It all
belongs to Joss Whedon and those associated with him. The only thing that
I claim is the story plotline. Everything else, I’m borrowing and will
return unharmed. Trust me. **Summary : AU Season 5 - Cordelia has returned, sort of – she has been
brought back to set straight a few destinies…but what does Spike have to do
with any of it? ** A/N – Okay, so I’m a huge fan of Angel/Cordelia. I am VERY upset
about how things have been left. I know that I’m going to get a lot of
things wrong in this story and let’s just say that it will be a slightly
alternate universe. I didn’t watch much of season 4 and I’ve completely
boycotted season 5 (although I did turn on the Reaper episode and watched a
little bit) because I’m so unhappy with the writers right now - that is
the reason I’m giving for some things not being correct. The only thing I’m
regretting about missing this season is Spike. I love Spike and James
Marsters. But I have to hold firm… Anyways – enjoy the first part
of the story, and please let me know if I should continue! ** ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Purgatory ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ “What a bloody wanker,” Spike muttered to himself as he watched Angel
delegate orders to his underlings. The blond vampire/ghost rolled his
eyes as he sat non-too-gently down on the couch in his grandsire’s
office. The resulting commotion caused Angel to look over at him with a
frown. “Spike, you’re a goddamn ghost. Go haunt something,” he said with a
frown. Spike grinned as he leaned back on the couch, putting his hands
behind his head. “I am,” he said cheekily. Angel’s frown deepened before turning back
to dictate orders to his secretary. Spike shook his head with a sigh as
he watched. Angel had returned to his ‘say-little-intimidate-much’ days
of yore. The only time the solemn vampire said more that two simple
sentences was when he was ordering the little lawyers around. That
thought caused Spike to frown. It was another thing he didn’t
understand. Angel had always been a poofter working for the forces of
good. Spike paused in his thought for a split second to mourn the memory
of Angelus. Bringing himself back from the self-imposed tangent, Spike
stood a paced slightly. Angel had always fought for good… but he had
always fought alone. It was safe to say that Angel was a loner.
That is, until he got hooked up with the cheerleader. After that, the
good fight had included friendship and loyalty. Spike couldn’t trace
either of those in this new arrangement the souled vampire had. Spike
knew that Wolfram & Hart were baddies. You didn’t live for a few
centuries and not figure that out. He’d asked his grandsire what,
exactly, he had to gain through all of paddy cake playing he was doing with the
law firm. All he’d received was a death glare, which if Spike hadn’t
already been as dead as he could get – can’t ask more of a ghost vampire – he
would have been 6 feet under and then some. All Spike could do was shrug
his shoulders and hope that this trip-traipsing through the Wolfram &
Hart-like shadow lands of Hell was going to be worth it in the end. But
then again, what did it matter to him? Spike was already halfway to
Hell. With another heavy sigh at that thought, Spike made his way out of the
office. There were definite perks to being a non-corporeal form these
days. One being that there was practically no effort in getting from one
place to the next. Two – of course – is that being a ghost pretty much invalidates
the vampire needing blood thing. Boy, that was nice. Not having to
deal with the bloody demon. There were other perks, just as there were
drawbacks. But he didn’t like to dwell on them much. Unlike his
vampire counterpart, Spike didn’t like the brooding bit. Angel had been a
brooder since the inclusion of his soul … and look where that got him.
Thrown smack dab in the middle as the ringleader of a bloody evil law
firm. Spike shook his head as he let the elevator take him to the
basement. There was one thing Spike didn’t like, and that was being in
the middle. As he exited the elevator a thought came to him. There
is no way in Hell – ha, funny, that – that I’m going to be stuck here. I
will find a way out of this. And I will find a way by my bloody self.
I don’t need those gits upstairs to find anything. They’ve got their
heads so far up their own arses that they couldn’t find a way out of a damn
paper bag. With a smirk to himself, Spike continued walking.
Now, in the meantime, if he could only figure out what to do with
himself. As he turned the corner, Spike found himself temporarily blinded
as an unearthly glow suddenly burst in front of him.
“What the bloody hell?!” Spike cried, throwing his arms up to shield
his eyes from the sudden, blindingly bright light. “I come to you now at the turn of the tide…” a melodious, slightly familiar
voice said. “Can you stop with the blinding, twirly lighting for a moment?” he asked
with a growl. The sound of laughter almost echoed through the empty hallway. “I always wanted to say that,” the voice spoke of its earlier words.
The light slowly started to fade and the voice started to take a corporeal
form. Spike’s jaw dropped as the shapely figure walked towards him. “Cordelia?” ** Important side note -- The LotR: The |
