Author name: verucasalt123
Artist name: kuwlshadow and emmatheslayer
Genre: Angel the Series/Supernatural Crossover
Pairing: Wesley/Spike, Sam/Dean
Word count: ~3600
Warnings: reference to sibling incest, reference to sex (not graphic), spoilers for SPN season 1 ending.
Notes: This is set post-NFA for Angel, some vague time early S2 for Supernatural
More Notes: I'm reposting this with an awesome award banner, yay for me :)
Summary: Wes and Spike are on a romantic weekend getaway when they’re spotted by a couple of hunters. After a day or so of being watched, they invite Sam and Dean Winchester to join them for a drink instead of just spying on them from across the street. Stories are swapped, lore is shared and fun is had by all.
Link to fic: Fic on LJ
Link to art: Art Here and Art Here
It had been years since Wesley had been in a position to take a proper vacation, and even longer than that for Spike. But now that the situation in Los Angeles had become a bit more calm and a bit less apocalyptic, the two of them had decided it was high time for some relaxation. Maybe even some actual fun.
It wasn’t every day that someone could take a trip to celebrate the fact that the world didn’t end.
A hearty mix of meticulously planned sabotage, double-crossing deal breakers, and plain dumb luck had landed the Angel Investigations division of Wolfram and Hart safely on the other side of a battle that could have killed them all - could have killed the planet. They’d taken losses, yes, but a team with the varied and useful skills like theirs did have its advantages.
So, no apocalypse, but also no Shanshu. Not for Angel, and not for Spike. One of the few things both of them agreed about was that it was a fair trade. They both preferred remaining souled vampires to being reduced to a pile of ash.
As a result, certain considerations had to be taken into account while Spike and Wes planned a few days away. A sunny beach destination wasn’t exactly a practical option, but they did want to see the ocean. Wesley had always had an affinity for the sea, and neither of them minded gray skies and chilly winds with their view.
Their resources probably could have gotten them safely all the way back to England, but that would require more time than they were ready to be away from home just yet. Everything had changed, even though no one else knew about it except for their little band of misfits fighting evil from the inside out. Hell, even Angel had started to unclench, but so much was still so new.
Including the relationship that had sprung up between Wesley and Spike very quickly after the world hadn’t ended. The intensity had scared them a bit at first, and it still hadn’t completely worn off. The sex was mind-blowing and even weeks into it, they were still getting each other naked (or just naked enough) at every available opportunity. His only experience with a same-sex partner being awkward fumbling with other boys at school, Wes was very pleasantly surprised to find that he rather liked cock. Of course, with a lover as experienced as Spike, it had been easy to learn all of the amazing ways they could please each other.
So their bags were packed and once again their Wolfram & Hart perks served them well. Barely over four hours on a private plane had them landing after dark at a private airstrip on San Juan Island in Washington State. There was a car waiting there for them, and they drove less than half an hour to Roche Harbor. Even at night, it was obvious that the area was more beautiful in person than it had been in brochures and on websites.
After having as much sex as Wesley’s human constitution allowed, Spike made himself comfortable with a book and Wes caught a few hours’ sleep. When he woke, he found Spike asleep next to him. It was mid-morning but no bright sunshine entered their room. Hungry and curious, Wesley went out to explore the local shops, restaurants and attractions. He had an amazing breakfast at a lovely cafe, and finding they were known for their breakfast sweets, packed up a bag of donuts to bring back to Spike for later. No matter how many years passed, Spike was never satisfied with a diet of only the blood he needed to survive; he had a passion for almost every kind of food and drink imaginable (unless it was healthy, in which case he’d politely refuse and go find himself a box of cookies or a basket of hot wings).
The day seemed to pass quickly, and Spike was safe to join Wesley for dinner even slightly before sunset as there wasn’t much sun to be seen in these cloudy gray skies. The restaurant was elegant but not too stuffy, so they were able to enjoy the food, the atmosphere and each other. This wasn’t the type of place where a same-gender couple would get stares…
Or was it?
The Winchesters were winding down a frustrating day and trying to find a place they felt comfortable having dinner, which wasn’t easy in a resort area like this. Dean was starving and Sam, as usual, was short-tempered like he always got when his research had pointed them in the wrong direction on a hunt.
It was supposed to be a simple thing; a black dog shouldn’t be too difficult for them to take down working together, even though it was weird knowing there was one on this side of the Atlantic. But first they had to find it. After several hours, they finally figured out the thing was on an even smaller, less inhabited island in the sound (as in, two-digit population count). Good news overall - it’d be easier to get to, and less of a threat to civilians since there just weren’t all that many of them. But it would have to wait until tomorrow.
They’d just pulled the car over so Sam could GPS them to someplace with a cheap motel and a greasy spoon - not something they’d find here. But Dean certainly seemed to have found something interesting.
Across the street, there was a couple laughing and holding hands as they walked down the sidewalk away from one of the fancy dinner spots.
“Sam, look at the blond on the sidewalk over there”, Dean said in a low voice. “Is that what I think it is?”
Sam barely looked up at the couple before he replied, “Don’t stare, dude, people are gonna think you’re a homophobe.”
“Yeah, ‘cause that was the straight guy kind of blow job I gave you this morning, right? Seriously, look at the guy. He’s not-”
By this time Sam had taken a minute to observe a little more closely, and he realized what his brother was trying to point out. The blond half of this couple was a vamp. There was definitely something different about him than most of the vampires they’d run into before, but he was a vamp for sure, on what looked like a romantic moonlight stroll toward the nearby hotel. The couple rounded the corner and was out of sight quickly.
“We’ve seen stranger things than domesticated vampires, Dean. They’re holding hands and laughing. If we’re prioritizing what might or might not be dangerous around here, the black dog on that other island is definitely higher on the list”, Sam said, being sincere but still feeling a natural suspicion about the vamp.
Dean nodded his agreement but insisted that they come back tomorrow evening to see what they could find out, so long as they’d gotten the black dog situation taken care of.
Spike and Wesley enjoyed their night and next day just the same - popping out as necessary, taking in the beautiful view of the water, and fucking on every available surface in their hotel room. They’d even come fairly close on the balcony once before Wes got his wits about him and moved them inside.
There was no way for them to know that two hunters were tracking a supernatural creature just a few miles away. And of course, there was no way either of them could predict the interesting turn their evening would take.
Savoring the last of their desserts and after-dinner drinks, Wes and Spike should have been too content for any worries to enter their mind. However, there was no way they could miss the fact that they were being watched.
Spike had noticed it first, because of the car. A car like that would never have gone unappreciated by Spike. The gleaming chrome and perfect black finish weren’t the only things that got his attention, though.
“You see that car across the street?”, he asked without looking back in its direction.
Wesley responded, “Of course I do. Couldn’t miss you drooling over it, but yeah, whoever’s inside is watching us. I noticed it briefly last night too.”
“Not just whoever in there, love. Those are hunters. John Winchester’s sons. Can’t imagine you’re not familiar with that particular family”, Spike replied.
It wasn’t that surprising, Wesley thought; Spike’s heightened senses allowed him to see and hear much more clearly than a human. “Winchesters? Sure, I’ve read things, heard things. Most recent news that’s made its way around is that the father’s passed on. Car accident is the official line, but I’d be shocked if that were true.”
“Yeah, well, those two have been eyeing us for half an hour. Maybe we should go over and say hello”, Spike suggested with a wicked little grin.
Wesley returned the smile. “Don’t want to start any trouble, but I don’t guess they’re going anywhere until they know you’re not a threat.”
“Pretty sure it would be hard to convince those two that just my existence isn’t a threat, but we might as well give it a go.” Spike motioned for the check and they casually made their way across the street. Not casually enough, as it was clear that the hunters knew exactly where they were headed.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”, Dean asked, mostly to himself, when he saw the vamp and his date walking directly toward them.
Sam sighed. “The Impala isn’t exactly inconspicuous, Dean. Did you think they weren’t going to see us?”
There was no time for additional conversation as the couple stopped on the sidewalk and waved like they were greeting some friends.
“Okay, weird”, Sam said, but he rolled down his window on the passenger side, left hand still close to a syringe containing dead man’s blood. He and Dean were each doing their instinctive immediate assessment: The dark-haired man was wearing an open collar and there were no visible bite marks but there was a very clear, old scar across his neck; even without the supernatural aspect, they seemed an odd couple. Both very good looking and with similar striking blue eyes, but the vamp was in black jeans, scuffed boots, and a long leather duster jacket while his partner wore an expensive-looking dress shirt and very expensive-looking shoes. Their obvious casually close physical proximity to each other, the dark-haired man exuding a clearly protective (maybe possessive) stance made it obvious that they were intimate, even if Dean and Sam hadn’t already seen them holding hands.
“Sorry to interrupt your surveillance, gentlemen”, Wesley began, using a very mild tone so as not to give the impression of being aggressive. “Just thought we’d introduce ourselves, save you some time.”
The crisp English accent was a bit of a surprise, but Dean rolled with it. “Go ahead, then. I didn’t think you two were just eyeing the car.”
Spike smiled and replied, “This is Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, formerly of the Watchers Council. I go by Spike but my name’s William”, and surprised Sam and Dean again with his own accent, different from Wesley’s but just as clearly British.
Sam nodded and said, “I’m Sam, this is my brother Dean.” The tension was very clear; no one wanted to start something ugly but all four of them were naturally suspicious.
Wesley started to say something, but Spike stopped him. “Sorry, love. Sam, you two got a dead guy in this car? I really was admiring it from over there and I don’t want to be rude but it kind of smells like corpse. I’d think you’d take better care of a gorgeous classic like this.”
Of course, Sam had no chance to respond because Dean took immediate offense. “I take plenty good care of her. Maybe you’re just more sensitive to the odor of some...thing that might have been in here in the past?” It wasn’t subtle; Dean was making it clear he knew Spike was supernatural, and acknowledging the possibility that they may have had an actual corpse in the car at some point.
Wesley just looked on, amused, seeing where the conversation was going. “Not far in the past, I’d say”, Spike responded, scanning the interior quickly.
Fuck it, thought Sam; he didn’t see the point in keeping up any pretense. “Dead man’s blood. We keep it around just in case, even though there don’t seem to be many of your kind around anymore.”
At this point, Wes had to jump in - he was thoroughly lost. “A dead man’s blood? I’m assuming you’re just as aware that Spike’s a vampire as we are that the two of you are hunters. But what good would that do you if he decided to attack you? Not that he would, of course”, he added in a tone that conveyed both his confusion and his annoyance.
Before either of the Winchesters had a chance to respond, Spike broke in and said, “Seems you’re misinformed. But honestly, could we take this somewhere else? We look like creepers out here on the street. You don’t mind if they come up for a drink and a chat, do you?”, he finished, looking at Wesley.
“Not at all. If you two would like to talk, you’re welcome to join us at our hotel. I can give you my word that you won’t be in danger, but we won’t be offended if you want to arm yourselves. It only makes sense given your occupation”, said Wesley.
Dean and Sam shared a wordless look and agreed to come along, but of course not without weapons. Dean kept the blade in his jacket and Sam kept his syringes and a vial of holy water.
Not surprisingly, the conversation was stilted and had an edge of suspicion even after Sam and Dean got settled in the hotel room. It was obviously much nicer than what they were used to, and Wesley had of course offered them drinks as soon as they arrived. He and Spike weren’t anywhere near as uncomfortable as the Winchesters were. Neither of them viewed the young men as a threat, and they were both kind of glad to meet people they could to talk to about their lives, regardless of the circumstances. After a beer and a little small talk, Dean and Sam started to relax a little. They were in a similar situation in that it wasn’t every day that they had a chance to be honest about the supernatural.
Dean gave his brother a Sam-style bitchface-eyeroll combo when Sam joined Spike on the balcony for a cigarette. It wasn’t something Sam made a habit of, but it annoyed the hell out of Dean whenever he did indulge. It gave him a chance to talk one on one with Wesley, though. The Watcher’s Council was unknown to him, and Wes gave him a general rundown on how the organization was run and what its goals were. Dean was appreciative that he’d met someone who’d rebelled against the system he knew and gotten thrown out, but still stuck with the work in his own way.
“It’s not the only organization dedicated to studying and protecting against demons, vampires, all that”, Wesley told him. “There are others in Europe, and I know there used to be at least one here in the United States, maybe more.”
Dean was surprised to receive this information. “Can’t believe my dad didn’t know about them. Though of course there’s always a possibility that he just never told us.”
“Ah. Sorry, I should have said earlier, you have my condolences, I understand he recently passed away”, Wesley said, receiving a very surprised look from Dean.
“You knew my dad?”, he asked incredulously.
“No, didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression. I knew of him, but we never met. Hunters, the way you understand them, are an interesting group; almost all motivated by grief, revenge, fear…”
Dean raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, most people don’t wake up one day and just decide they wanna kill monsters for no reason.”
Wesley shook his head. “Of course not. But their isolation sometimes hinders their work. Your brother said earlier that he didn’t think there were many vampires left. I can assure you that there are, but I don’t think we’re both referring to the same creature. There is a similar species that used to be fairly common in North America. They’re almost extinct, but they’re not vampires in the technical sense. They can withstand direct sunlight and you can kill them with that concoction Sam referred to earlier, the blood of a dead human, which isn't the case with true vampires.”
“You’re saying they’re not vampires? They survive by drinking blood, turn or kill humans by feeding on them, and yeah, the sun doesn’t kill them instantly but it makes them very weak, and they usually sleep during the day.”
Recognizing the similarity, Wes explained that they were infected by something that turned them into vampire-like creatures. “However, a vampire is a demon. Well...half a demon, anyway. They inhabit the body of the person they were when they were alive, they have all its memories, but not its soul.”
“Soulless demons. Yeah, we have a little experience with demons. They generally take over a human body but don’t always bother to make sure the person’s dead before they jump in there. Seems like souls are a pretty big deal to them”, Dean said. He liked this guy, but he wasn’t about to spill everything he knew considering the situation with Sammy.
Wesley agreed. “Full demons don’t have much respect for vampires, they’re considered half-breeds even without a soul. But there are exceptions. As far as I know, there are two vampires who do have souls. One of them is standing out on the balcony with your brother; the other is living in Los Angeles, we all work together. I’ll save that story for later if we have time”, he said as Spike and Sam walked back inside talking animatedly about wards and sigils.
Sam spent a lot of time trading information with Spike about exorcisms, protective symbols, incantations, and the like. He was very surprised to learn that Spike spoke six languages flawlessly, though he probably ought to have known better than to judge a book by its cover by now.
Conversation was flowing much more smoothly now that they all had a couple of drinks in them and were no longer suspicious of each other. Spike’s conversations with Sam moved away from strategies to kill or repel different kinds of creatures at some point and turned toward literature, lore, and history. The exchange of information morphed into personal conversations and actually getting to know each other.
Dean and Sam had gotten so comfortable after a couple of hours that they forgot to hide their affection. It wasn’t all that often that they were in the company of two men who were sexually and romantically involved with each other, so that could have been why they let their guards down a bit. They only realized that they’d let their fingers intertwine when Spike gave them a pointed look and one of his smug but somehow slightly endearing grins. They instinctively moved their hands, but Wesley cut in.
“Don’t. And Spike, stop being an ass. Are you and I the only ones in the world who are allowed an unconventional relationship?”
The Winchesters were a bit stunned. It certainly wasn’t what they expected to hear, but thinking about what they’d learned about this couple tonight, it did seem to make sense that they weren’t really the type to judge how other people lived their lives, so long as they weren’t hurting anyone.
Not long after that, Spike had given Sam a lot of accurate information about vampires and how they weren’t all the same, Dean had openly admired Wesley’s pistol-grip shotgun, and Sam looked at his phone in disbelief.
“It’s two in the morning. No wonder I’m exhausted. I feel like we might have overstayed, I’m sure this isn’t what you two were looking for in a vacation”, he said a bit sheepishly.
Spike just looked at him, shrugged, and replied, “Vampire.” That got an easy chuckle out of the whole group.
They said their goodbyes and exchanged contact information. Wes encouraged them to get in touch if they ever found themselves in Los Angeles. Dean clearly stated his strong dislike for California, and Sam gave him a look that demonstrated there was a story behind that, but not one that would be told tonight. Spike repeated his admiration for their car, though he couldn’t imagine it was a practical method of transportation for constant long-distance travel.
“Fuck practical”, Dean said, and Sam joined in, saying, “That car’s kind of like home for us”, as he reached out to take Dean’s hand again.
It had definitely not been the type of night any of them had expected, but all four of them felt they’d gained something from the chance encounter. Maybe not enough to call it “new friends”, but it never hurt to have more contacts, and who knew - there was always the possibility they might actually become friends if given the chance.