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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
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Conversation with a stranger who could be a friend

Summary:

Two lost souls meet at Christmas.  Set after Torchwood Out of Time and Angel the Series Destiny.  Spike and Owen meet in a bar, where else would they be?

Work Text:


Conversation with a stranger who could be a friend
by Lilithangel

 

 

Owen glowered at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar.  He hated the fact that people insisted on having mirrors in bars they only reminded patrons of how fucked up they looked.  He'd managed to look sober enough to get served in whatever bar it was he'd ended up in.  He had a vague recollection of going to the airport and picking the first flight out with some idea about being in the air with Diane only to find himself in Newcastle and getting another flight in disgust.

If his shaky memory was right he was in a bar in London, most likely Heathrow by the people around him.  Owen congratulated himself on his still keen observation skills and ordered another drink.

He felt someone sit beside him and proceeded to ignore them, grateful that they were happy to do the same.  Until he realised he couldn't see anyone in the mirror.

"You're either a hallucination or an alien," he said risking a glance sideways to confirm there was actually somebody there.

Spike laughed at the man's words.  "I've been called a lot of things before, including hallucination but never an alien."

"What are you then?" Owen glared at his missing reflection.

"Ex-ghost, current vampire," Spike replied.  He couldn't be bothered with any bullshit. He'd backed out of going to Italy to find Buffy, he'd gone out a hero and didn't want that to change in her eyes, and now all he wanted to do was get drunk and not think about going back to L.A with his tail between his legs.

"What planet are you from?" Owen demanded.

"This one so piss off," Spike said signalling to the bartender.

Owen glared but decided to ignore the lunatic for another glass of whiskey.

A few whiskeys later and suddenly they were deep in conversation about demons versus aliens and science versus magic and somehow quoting Terry Pratchett.

"Okay fine," Spike said, "we could both be right or we could both be crazy and either way you wouldn't believe my proof as anything more than I was an alien."

"What proof?" Owen snorted.

"Do you know how to take a pulse?"

"I'm a bloody doctor so I should hope so."

Spike held out his hand and Owen grasped his wrist.  Owen frowned and pressed two fingers to the side of Spike's throat.  When that revealed nothing he pulled Spike closer and put his ear to Spike's chest.

"No reflection, no heartbeat," Spike said triumphantly, "what fits those criteria doctor boy?"

Owen's eyes narrowed at the boy crack and tried to sort through what he'd seen.  Then he shrugged too drunk to really care.

"Alright then," Owen said, "I just watched the woman I loved disappear through a rift in time and space after it dumped her on my doorstep from 1953 in the first place.  So you can be a vampire if
you want, Fangs, do you have fangs?"

"Of course I have bloody fangs," Spike said, "what sort of pissant vampire would I be if I didn't have fangs?  The woman I loved died when she threw herself off a tower to save the world and then they used magic to get her back.  So here's to losing the women we love."  Spike drained his glass and Owen followed suit.

"You said they brought her back," Owen said, "why aren't you with her?"

"Don't deserve her," Spike said, "anyway she thinks I died a hero, not going to get better than that."

"A dead hero is better than a live one?" Owen scoffed.

"Shut up," Spike groused, "it's better this way okay?"

"Okay," Owen agreed, "mine didn't love me enough either.  So how does this vampire thing work?"

"Why," Spike asked suspiciously, "you want to dissect me and find out?"

"No," Owen said, "thought I'd just ask and you'd tell me.  No dissection required."

Spike snorted but filled Owen in over several more whiskeys.

"So when you were killed by this Drusilla a demon took up residence and your soul went to heaven?" Owen frowned.  "Then you went to a cave in Africa and get your soul back but that drove you crazy."

"Pretty much," Spike said.

"I've never been sure about the whole soul/heaven thing," Owen admitted, "always seemed a bit of religious mumbo jumbo."

"Religion doesn't have all that much to do with it except for the holy objects thing," Spike said.

"That's really a belief aspect though isn't it?" Owen asked.

Spike frowned.  "Could be, but this is too heavy for an airport bar," he added.

"Fair enough," Owen said.  He spun on his stool and surveyed the other occupants of the bar.

"Want to pick a fight?" Spike said looking over his shoulder.

"Alright," Owen shrugged.

The bartender threw them out before the entire bar was wrecked and airport security escorted them out of the terminal.

Spike stared at the slowly lightening sky with a frown.

"So the whole sunlight thing?" Owen asked.

"That one's true," Spike said.

Owen's gaze lit on a courtesy coach for one of the airport hotels and fumbled for his wallet.  "Should sleep it off before returning to Cardiff to be yelled at.  I'll get us a room, you can stay there
until you decide what to do."

"Twin?"

"Of course." Owen rolled his eyes and then straightened up to appear sober as they made their way over to the coach.

"I'm sorry sir," the concierge apologised, "but we do have a large king with a pull-out bed available."

"That's fine," Owen said, the alcohol was beginning to leave his system and he wanted to get to the room and hit the mini bar.  He looked over at Spike who just nodded.  Owen pulled out his Torchwood credit card and hoped like hell Ianto hadn't put a block on it yet.  He knew damn well they'd be monitoring it and he didn't give a shit but a block would be inconvenient.

Owen went straight to the mini bar while Spike sprawled out on the bed.

"Show me," Owen said throwing a bottle toward Spike.

"What?" Spike looked up.

"I wanna see fangs," Owen replied.

Spike sighed and there was a slightly painful crunching noise as the bones of his face shifted.  Owen's legs got shaky and he sat down heavily on the bed.

"Well?" Spike smirked at Owen.  If he was honest he always loved seeing how people reacted.  In the past it had been about running for their lives and dying so more positive reactions were always interesting.

"It's quite feline like," Owen said, "but you're definitely better looking the other way.  Is it painful to change?" he added as Spike shifted back to human features.

"Not really," Spike said, "it felt odd the first few times but you get used to it."

Curiosity satisfied Owen turned his attention to the bottles he had liberated from the bar.  "I hate these little bottles," he complained.

"Yeah," Spike agreed, "what the hell is the use of them?"

The use of them was to quickly finish the whole bar to top up the buzz they'd developed.  Owen flicked on the television and they argued about what to watch until they settled on porn.  Somehow it didn't seem odd to watch with the other there especially as they both found similar things amusing, and arousing it turned out.

"I like women," Owen said still looking at the screen, "but there are always exceptions."

"I'd be an exception would I?" Spike asked.

"I think you'd be a lot of things," Owen said turning to look at him.

"Fair enough," Spike said and pressed their lips together.

"Good kisser being number one," Owen said when they broke apart for him to catch his breath.

"No gag reflex either," Spike said and Owen's cock twitched at the suggestion.

"Way to give a guy a complex," Owen said and Spike smirked.

It was a little bit awkward, rather messy and quite possibly the best sex Owen had ever had which was saying something.  Alcohol made the start a bit dodgy as they fumbled with clothing and boots before fumbling with positions, but the middle was pretty damn good especially when Owen found himself bent almost in half with Spike pounding into him.

Part two had Spike on all fours while Owen thrust in long and slow, one hand wrapped around Spike's cock at the same time.

The end was sticky and more than slightly hung over, it wasn't Diane/Buffy (Jack/Angel) but it was alright and the pull out bed didn't get used.

They stayed in all day with the blinds closed and ordered everything on the room service menu while Owen grilled Spike on vampiric digestion, blood drinking, dying and not dying.  And then Spike returned the favour about space/time rifts, aliens and the possibility of time travel.

There was sex, lots of sex, but there was more conversation, shared stories and a little bit of shared pain.  Only a little bit mind you, because they've only just met and intimacy takes more than good sex.  It was what they both needed even if they didn't realise it, conversation with a stranger who could be a friend.

Owen's phone began ringing late in the afternoon.  He ignored it but Spike finally had enough.

"What?" Spike demanded answering it.

"Could I speak to Owen please?" a calm but slightly surprised Welsh voice asked.

"He's busy sucking my cock right now," Spike said with a smirk, "can I take a message?"

Owen yelped in outrage and snatched the phone from him.

"My apologies for interrupting," Ianto deadpanned, "but you need to get back to Cardiff.  Jack and Tosh have disappeared."

"Fuck," Owen said, "kidnapping or the Rift?"

"We don't know.  Tosh did pick up some anomalies earlier but it's too early to say.  Gwen is investigating where they disappeared from but I need you back here."

"Alright, I'll catch the first train back," Owen said, struggling to his feet and searching for his clothes.

"There's one in an hour," Ianto replied, "I've booked you a seat."

"Hang on," Owen covered the microphone and looked at Spike who was watching curiously.  "Want to take a trip to Cardiff and see my secret lair?"

"Nice recruitment speech," Spike said.  He shrugged.  "Sure why not."

"Make it two seats," Owen said to Ianto, "I've got someone here you won't believe."

"What are you thinking Owen?" Ianto demanded.  "Jack won't approve of you bringing civilians into the Hub."
 
"You just told me Jack's disappeared," Owen replied, "that makes me senior Torchwood officer and I'm making an executive decision to bring in some extra assistance.  Make it two seats."

"Fine," Ianto huffed, "but it's on your head."  He hung up sharply.

Owen grinned at Spike.  "We've got an hour, will it be dark enough?"

"This is England in the winter," Spike said, "its already dark enough.  You're assuming I'm coming."

"I am aren't I?" Owen said.  "Got anything better to do?"

"Not right at the moment, no," Spike replied.

"Right then, let's go see where my boss has got to," Owen said.

 

END