Title: Mercenary Hearts
Author: Califi
Posted: 25/06/05
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Rating: R
Category: No Angel or Spike involvement pre-S4
Content: C/A, possibly B/X. S/T
Summary: Challenge by Impress: Mercenaries for hire, Angel and Spike’s latest ‘Contract’ leads them to Sunnydale. They end up fighting the next Big Bad alongside the Scoobies.
Spoilers: None, really.
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: Please ask first.
Notes:A/S first appearance in Sunnydale. Cursed with soul/s, but never a Gypsy caveat.
Thanks: I would like to thank Lysa once more for her support through this fic. I only hope I do it justice.
Challenge: Details will be added at the end of the fic.
Feedback: The yummy icing on top. 🙂
Prologue
New York. 1999
“Are we gonna go in there and kill ‘em, or just act like ruddy virgins at an orgy?” Spike asked; rolling his eyes when Angel lifted a silencing hand in response, his dark eyes fixed on the grubby window of the derelict warehouse.
“There are too many,” Angel finally spoke, his voice a low rumble. “Let’s wait until they split up.” A statement, rather than a suggestion, Spike noticed sourly.
“Then it’ll take bloody forever to find ’em again.” He shifted impatiently on the crate he’d found to sit on. Spike had never been one to avoid a fight, regardless of the odds, and he was getting antsy just waiting.
There were better places to hang out than this particular area of New York. He hated the smell of harbor water. It brought back too many bad memories of his not-so brief reign of terror in the murky Docklands of England.
The dark-haired vampire beside him hadn’t so much as twitched a muscle since they’d ended up on the outside looking in, and that just pissed him off more. Oh, he could do the impression of a tree alright, but that meant being still. Which soon led to boredom… “Shoulda brought popcorn”, he muttered under his breath. At least eating would take the edge off.
“Sod it. I’m going in.” Spike dropped his half-smoked cigarette and rose lithely to his feet.
*
They’d been tracking the group of demons hiding out in the warehouse for several weeks, and had been more than irritated earlier to find out there were at least half a dozen more than the seven the paperwork had stated.
Although that put the kibosh on ending it tonight, being pissed had nothing to do with being outnumbered, and everything to do with the price agreed upon. Angel was more than tempted to stick to the original number and let the ones who’d hired them sort out the others themselves.
But his decision to wait it out until the group broke up a little and pick out their marks then, was just about to hit the crapper.
Angel cursed a blue streak, as the hand reaching out to stop the impetuous vampire wasn’t quick enough and grasped thin air.
“I’ll kill the scrawny bastard” Angel swore under his breath as he headed rapidly towards the doorway his partner had just kicked open. If he isn’t already dead, he thought as the sound of raised, guttural voices, roars and crashing grew to an ungodly level…
***
“Fuck it!” The curse tore from him as his blood coated hand slipped on the length of wood jammed between his ribs, jolting it higher. Sweat popped onto his brow as he realized how close the buried shaft was to his heart.
Gritting his teeth, Angel eased it out an inch at a time, groaning aloud when it finally pulled free and his borrowed blood sluggishly filled the jagged hole. Dropping the wood to the ground next to him, he finally lifted his dark head and scanned the gloomy warehouse; dilated eyes briefly resting on every dead demon sprawled on the filthy floor.
Counting up to six, a growl of annoyance rumbled his powerful chest, changing pitch as he attempted to get to his feet. Blood started pissing out of his wound, and with a grunt, Angel slumped back onto the floor, his back propped against a wall.
Resigning himself to the fact that he’d be going nowhere for at least several hours, he settled as comfortably as he could and tried not to think too much about the distinct lack of a bleached-blonde’s head amidst the carnage….
