#im gonna pack so much fucking irish catholic repression into this fic you guys arent prepared

[council-of-readers]

Back Into Annihilation

Chapter one has been beta read and is ready for upload! Here it is, folks. You can also follow it on Ao3, if you're so inclined!

Tags: slow burn, crossover, enemies to lovers, mutual pining, eventual smut

Work rating: M

This chapter: T

Description: Centuries after they last spoke, Spike comes across an old, begrudging ally, and former feelings start to bubble to the surface once more.

Spike lifted the cup to his lips and grimaced at the taste. It tasted absolutely horrid, but it did the job. He almost respected the humans who drank it regularly. Luckily, he'd be off this moon within the week. He couldn't stomach staying for a second longer than he had to. His work brought him to all sorts of barren worlds, and life on the border planets wasn't unfamiliar to him. Truthfully, it suited his tastes. It was a pity their alcohol tasted so foul. Otherwise, he would spend more time among them.

Being planet-side out here was much preferable to the core. He fit in better with the locals. In terms of look, anyhow. He was less likely to be bothered. Even less so if he was on a job. Most knew better than to barrage strangers with questions. Plenty of them had reasons for being here that were less than palatable. It was safer if you didn't know. Keeping your head down, focusing on your work, and moving on. That was life out here. It suited him just fine.

People always had too many questions for his taste. Too many inane ones, that is. He didn't mind questions. Small talk didn't even bother him too much. It was always the same, though. People would always ask the same, repetitive, invasive, uninspired questions, and he was expected to respond politely each and every time. It grew old, as did he. That's why the border planets were preferable. Of course, every town, every moon, every planet had its problems, but they were petty. They rarely ever affected him as a visitor, and if they did, he could handle himself well. For the vast majority of his years visiting these worlds, he'd been able to go in, do his work, and leave unbothered.

On the core, however, that wasn't really an option. Their technology was invasive, to say the least, and he wasn't able to even walk into a shop without being clocked. He was followed by discreet, or so they liked to think, undercover feds wherever he went. In addition to this, their culture was utterly alien to him. No, he didn't get humans. He hadn't in a long time. He was convinced, though, that these people, the ones that chose core life, weren't fully human themselves. They seemed almost robotic. Unfeeling, pristine, and impenetrable. He hated them. At least the people on the edge, as detached as he felt from them, understood his way of life. Understood his choice to work instead of layabout. They didn't care if your clothing was dirty. They cared if it wasn't. He'd choose their company over the elite any day.

The gap between humans and vampires, he found, had become too wide to bridge easily. Spike found himself exhausted by conversation, convention, and companionship. Vampires had long ago integrated into human society, almost seamlessly since interstellar travel made them almost immune to death by sunlight. There hadn't been much study put into it. The conclusion most folk arrived at was simply that the only sun that affected you was the one you were sired under. A vampire could travel without worry, provided they had a good idea of where they were going, and when they'd be arriving.

Still, though. While they walked side by side, the cultural gap was vast. Vampires had become secluded and insular, far more so than on Earth-That-Was. They no longer needed to hunt, and so they no longer needed humans. Besides, hostility towards vampires had never really cooled. Vampire on human attacks were rare, but they happened frequently enough that most humans felt uneasy around them. This was fine by him. He much preferred to be left to his own devices. To their credit, though, they did put on a good show.

A drunken man slammed into the bar beside him. He let out a string of slurred curses before readying his fists and heading back into the fray. Not long ago, Spike would have revelled in the violence and wasted no time in throwing himself amongst them. Now, he was content simply drinking and listening. Humans never ceased to entertain.

He wasn't quite sure what had gotten them so riled up, but he didn't much care. He didn't bother to pay attention to these things. It didn't concern him. The sounds of fighting grew louder behind him, the noise beginning to get on his nerves. Some of them were there simply to drink and forget. It was plain disrespectful to start a bar fight and get the entire bar involved. Well, most of it, anyhow. Spike and a few other lone gentlemen did their best to ignore the ruckus. What had become of him, truly? He hadn't grown soft. Just tired. Tired and bored.

It had been ages since he'd had a good brawl. Vampires strength grew with age and experience, and Spike actively trained to this day. He had won the majority of fights he got into, and the ones he didn't weren't fair nor fun to start with. Long gone were the days he could get away with tossing someone through a holographic window, much like the rowdy bunch behind him had just done. Vampires had some fairly strict laws on them considering hurting humans. Not to mention that the law wasn't afraid of averting their eyes to any vigilante justice. It was better for him to keep to his own.

The angry men poured out of the bar, likely in pursuit of the poor sods they'd tossed out of it. Again, though, he didn't give their reasoning much thought. So long as it was quiet again.

He turned his attention back on his drink. It truly tasted horrible, but it was better than nothing. He decided he'd leave after he finished it. No point staying here longer than he had to, and he preferred to be back before dusk.

It had been a while since he'd done anything but drink alone. Of course, he could find company if that's what he desired. It just wasn't a priority anymore. He had grown accustomed to his own company. It never bothered him much in the past. Being alone, that is. Especially if it was by choice. And it was.

Spike took another swig, downing more than he probably should have. He grimaced at the taste. He'd been lost in his train of thought and had forgotten the unpleasant taste of the liquid in front of him.

Sure, he felt lonely sometimes. If it ever got unbearable, he'd find someone to fill the void for a bit. He'd make a few friends, if they could be called that, and then they'd move on. Or he would. That was alright by him. They didn't have to stay, and neither did he. Everyone served a purpose, and when theirs was done, he let them go. That's what you do.

He'd been here for far too long. Nostalgia was creeping in. It was never pleasant. The past was fun, but it stays in the past. There wasn't any point in fixating on what was. On what should have been.

The barkeep offered to fill his glass. Spike declined and tossed him the platinum he was owed. He stood up, much too sober for his liking, and shuffled out of the bar. The sound of roaring ship engines filled the air behind him. Likely some of the drunkard's allies coming to the rescue. The voice that spilled out of the boat's speakers confirmed his suspicions. The fight must have been more loaded than he'd guessed. Might have been worth the risk to get involved after all. It was too late now, though.

He fished a pack of cigarettes out from his pocket. A vice he still carried with him. With how technology had advanced over the last few centuries, he'd been able to keep up his smoking habit and avoid his teeth yellowing as a result. That was something he was grateful for. Spike hated to think about giving it up. Especially now. At least lighting up gave him something to do. It could fill small portions of his time; time that would otherwise be empty. It added up after a while, and his little ritual became a solace of his. He'd get drunk, smoke, sleep, and maybe invite someone to join him for the night. That was a rarer occurrence than he liked to pretend. He was disinterested in most of vampires, humans, and demons the verse had to offer. His standards weren't high. Spike had his fill long ago. Sex passed the time, but he didn't crave it like he once had.

Still. If he happened to spot someone that caught his fancy, he wasn't above flashing a grin and charming them into his bed. His looks were classic enough that he could have almost anyone he wanted. Provided he put in the effort. It rarely took much, but even the little he did have to exert wasn't worth the reward. Spike was old, not old fashioned. He wasn't above staring at the pretty girls that hung out in alleys, or the lovely shop keepers. He'd even sprung for a companion once. Likely, though, he wouldn't do it again. Not quite to his taste. If it was fully lacking in romance, he preferred his tumbles to have an edge to them. Companions couldn't provide that for him. He did leave a sizable tip for their time, though. The experience wasn't unpleasant, and he felt generous that day.

His mind was wandering. The alcohol in his system wasn't helping this issue. If he wasn't careful, his drifting eyes might cause him a spot of trouble, especially considering the part of town he was travelling through. He wasn't sure how he ended up around here. Nostalgia was a powerful drug. It wasn't his fault that his mind was stagnating in the past. Though, he couldn't fully blame it on the drink, either.

It wasn't important.

He scowled subconsciously and took a drag off his cigarette. When did he light it? His brain was foggy. He needed to get home. For last week or so, home had been a rented room out of a farmhouse. He lived on a ranch himself, back on Clarus, so it wasn't the worst adjustment he'd ever made for a job.

It was well paying, but unbearably dull. He was tasked with protecting a family of three from the goons of a man they owed. They'd had to chase off five of his men the night before Spike arrived, and significant damage had been done to the house. The family mutt was injured in the tussle, as well. Once word got out, though, that they'd brought in hired help, his lackeys hadn't made a move.

Cowards, the lot of them.

It did make him grin a bit. His reputation preceded him.

He'd built a name for himself over the last 50 years or so as muscle for hire. Work at his ranch was never dull, especially given what he raised, but it was nice to get out and stretch his legs. Though, as evidenced by his earlier reaction, when most folks heard a vampire was on the job, they tended to stay away. Better for them, and worse for him.

The quiet life had never been one that called to him. White picket fence suburbia had long ago died off, but it's memory remained. A nice yard, good money, 2.5 kids, the works. Something about that way of living kept calling humans to it, and he couldn't quite understand why. Living in one place, surrounded by the same people, year in and year out seemed like Hell to him. It was part of the reason he started taking on these side jobs. The monotony of farm life took its toll, especially so when you hired help. Things were boring enough when he ran the place. Now that he had no hand in the work, he needed to find jobs to occupy his time. His own sanity was at stake. The extra cash flow didn't hurt things much, either.

It's not like he was completely broke, but he was always just a few bad years away from complete desolation. Most were, especially if you didn't stay on the central planets.

It was barely noon, and he was a few miles out. If he hurried and kept his head down, he could make it there by mid-afternoon. If luck was on his side, he could rest his eyes for a while before his shift started. The thought brought him a bit of peace. Rest was just what he needed.

Spike looked around to orient himself. The street signs were blurred a bit, but he could make them out well enough. Fortunately, he had gotten on the right path back to the ranch, despite not putting much thought into where he was going. He made a note to bring his horse into town with him next time, if only to make the trek back a little easier on him.

The fight from earlier weighed on him more than he thought it would. Namely, his apathy towards it. There was a time where he'd revel in the chance to let loose. He'd grown soft in his age. Ranch life, coupled with a lack of opportunity, had lead him to shy away from a fight. Because, what? He was afraid of the consequences with the law? It had been a while since he'd been confronted with a chance to get roughed up, something he previously enjoyed, and he made a silent promise to himself that he wouldn't let the next one slip through his fingers.

Hopefully this shift wouldn't be as dull as the last one. He really needed an excuse to hit something.

#im gonna pack so much fucking irish catholic repression into this fic you guys arent prepared #you just arent #spangel #spike x angel #angel x spike #btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #angel the series #firefly #ats #a:ts #angel ats #angel btvs #spike ats #spike btvs #if you have a better summary suggestion im very open to it i do not like writing them #PLEASE GIVE ME ANY FEEDBACK YOU HAVE #or any spelling errors you catch