Defenseless

First Person POV: Angel

I hate him.

"It's bollocks, Angel! It's your brand of bollocks, from first to last."

Watching him strut through my office, shouting at me, I hate him even more.

"No, you can't ever see the big picture. You can't see any picture!"

"I am talking about something primal! Right? Savagery. Brutal, animal instinct."

God, get out of my office already. I'm tired of arguing.

"And that wins out every time with you." I'm just so damn tired. "You know, the human race has evolved, Spike!"

I walk away, but it does no good. He follows me anyway. Constantly on my heels and forever in my mind.

"Oh, into a bunch of namby-pamby, self-analyzing wankers who could never hope to – "

"We're bigger. We're smarter." Which doesn't explain my complete lack of intellect when it comes to him. "Plus, there's a thing called teamwork, not to mention the superstitious terror of your 'pure aggressors!'"

Why am I still arguing with him? Why haven't I thrown him out of here yet?

"You just want it to be the way you want it to be."

Yes, yes I do. Which is why I haven't thrown him out.

"It's not about what I want!"

He's so close to me, oh Christ, I want him…

"Sorry." I turn to see Wesley has entered my office. Thank whatever higher powers sent him in right this moment. "Is this something we should all be discussing?"

"No." I'm embarrassed – not because Wesley caught us shouting. That happens a lot. It's not a daily routine – it's an hourly routine. One I wouldn't trade for anything, as long as it gives me the chance to be with him. No, I'm embarrassed because if Wesley hadn't walked in when he did, everyone near my office would have gotten a little show…

"It just… sounds a little serious."

"It was mostly…" Sexual tension? Lack of sleep? Too many nights filled with dreams of Spike's lean, firm body? "Theoretical. We…" Need to shag like adolescent bunnies?

"We were just working out a b- " A bit of frustration? God, how right he is. Just tell Wesley the truth. We were arguing over – "Look, if cavemen and astronauts got into a fight, who would win?"

He crossed his arms. He's staring Wesley down. I can't look at them – can't look at him. Because when he stares so intently at something, someone, all I can do is wish he was staring at me. I wish he would notice how I look at him.

"Ah." Wesley seems skeptical. Which is actually pretty normal for Wesley. He analyzes everything for hidden meanings – but I have kept my secret well. Although sometimes I do wonder if he's seen through all my masquerades and realized why I argue so ferociously with my grandchild. "You've been yelling at each other for forty minutes about this?"

And I'd do it all over again just to spend another forty minutes in his presence.

"Do the astronauts have weapons?"

"No." Just like those astronauts, I am left defenseless against the savage aggression of my feelings for him.

God, how I hate him.

I can't believe I'm doing this.

But it's for the best, really. I've almost convinced myself of that. This is the only way I can survive – I may not like it, but I'll deal with the feelings and the self loathing that come along with hard decisions. I always do.

"Harmony just pulled me out of a very promising poker game down in Accounts Receivable, so this better be good." Good? With the view I'm getting as you're draping your leg over the arm of that chair, nothing in the world can be wrong. "Oh, and by the way, all the guys down there agree that astronauts don't stand a chance against cavemen, so don't even start."

Right. Here goes nothing. "Look, I can't do this anymore." The room is spinning. I need support. I can't do this…

"Admitting defeat, are you?" He's smirking. I hate that. I want to grab him and wipe that expression off… I can't lie; I really just want to touch his face…

"You and me." Like there ever was a you and me. "This isn't working out." I'm really doing this, aren't I?

He looks mockingly hurt. "Are you saying we should start annoying other people?"

"I'm saying you should go." I DON'T MEAN THAT! NO! STAY! PLEASE! You can annoy me all you want! You can do anything, just please don't leave me…

"You really can't stand the competition, can you?"

"That isn't the – " OK… Calm down. I had a speech worked out. It's the only damn thing I've done all day besides argue with him. Stick to the plan – just say your piece. "The way I figure it, Lindsey brought you back as a spirit bound to this place so you'd become – " The only fucking thing I think about. " – Invested in it. He only made you corporeal again once you'd gotten used to it, attached to it." Like I'm so desperately attached to him.

"I'm not attached." God how I wish he was. "I just don't have anywhere else to go." So why am I sending him away?

"What if you did?" I hate him. "Look, Wolfram & Hart has got offices in every major city in the world – and a lot more out of it." I hate this place. "I'll give you the resources you need to go anywhere: cars, gadgets, expense accounts. You fight the good fight, but… in style." I hate myself. "And if possible, in outer Mongolia."

Someone stop me, please?

"A roving agent." He's considering it. He really wants to go. "Sort of a 007 without the poncy tux." He'd look amazing in a tux. "Go anywhere I want?"

"Anywhere. Everywhere." I don't want him anywhere but here…

"Hmm. Anywhere but here…"

I can't believe I did that…

Right now, I have one comforting thought – the blonde vampire sitting across the aisle. He is the only thing keeping me from squeezing my eyes shut as tight as they'll go until I cry.

"I've never flown before." He looks just as nervous as I feel. God, how inappropriate – all I can think of is how we're sharing a virginal experience – flying in a plane together. I'm just a sick, sick vampire.

"I've been in a helicopter. They don't… go this high." I want him to hold me, sooth me, lie and tell me he loves me. I've never been so terrified, and most of it has nothing to do with the plane ride. Or the fact that Fred is dying.

"Back to the mother country." He seems to be relaxing a bit. We've been in the air for almost an hour – just the two of us back here. Temptations abound. "Hey, after we save Fred, we should hit the West End, take in a show."

Me? Him? A darkened theatre? Oh, the possibilities… "I've never seen Les Mis."

"Trust me, half way through the first act, you'll be drinking humans again." Only if I'm actually paying attention to the stage…

Damn it! Get on track! Start thinking with the head on your shoulders! He's never gonna see you the way you want him to! And more importantly, Fred is dying. You have to concentrate on saving her…

"Can't lose her, Spike." I lose too many people.

"We won't." He's so confident. I love his confidence – it is such a turn on. Took him a while to find it, but once he did…

Focus Angel. Just focus. "I lost Cordy."

I need my comforting thought back…