InsaneJournal

On Valentine's Day Spike woke up cussing. Angel's side of the bed was long cold. A dry towel hung on the back of the bathroom door and the tiles weren't the least bit slippery. Angel had showered and dressed hours ago.

And like a oppressed and neglected house wife, Spike wasn't happy about it.

When the blond vampire finally managed to drag himself down into the Hyperion lobby Gunn and Fred were the only ones around. Fred's a sweet girl, but her giggles and Gunn's lame attempt at flirting were doing nothing to help Spike's foul mood.

"Where the bloody hell is that ponce?" Spike demanded to know, breaking into the sickeningly sweet scene before him. The romantic in Spike was taking a holiday and since these two were the only ones around, and making googly eyes at one another no less, they were going to pay the price.

Fred looked taken aback, her doe eyes the size of saucers.

"Helpin' the helpless, you know, his job. We can't all be kept boys around here. Some us actually have to work for a livin'."

Spike scoffed in Gunn's general direction and did his best to look completely scandalized. "Putting up with his 24/7 brood-a-thons is work." Spike softened as he turned to Fred. "Peaches didn't say when he'd be cutting out for the day?"

The girl bit her lip and shook her head, knowing that Spike wouldn't take kindly to that bit of news. "I'm sure he'll be back soon though."

She had been right, Spike didn't like it. He stormed back into the kitchen to heat up a mug of blood, all the while muttering beneath his breath about the injustice of that bloody ponce running off to feed his fat ego by saving another simpering broad from the clutches of some big nasty whose only crime was probably trying to bring home something nice to share with the Missus on V-Day.

But what did he care? Spike asked himself as he watched the mug spin around on the rotating plate in the microwave. Spike had never received any special treatment on Valentine's Day before. Why should he have expected anything different this time around, now that he was a veritable squatter in Angel's hotel?

When the microwave finally dinged, the blond took his blood into the lobby, determined to shake off his melancholy mood. His soap was about to start, so he tossed a hasty apology at Fred and pointedly ignored Charlie-boy as he went up the stairs.

Once safely back in the suite he shared with Angel, Spike hunkered down and flipped on the tube.

By the time the ending credits were rolling an hour later Spike was feeling no better.

To couple with his own Valentine-less induced misery, the episode had been a repeat of Ethan pushing aside poor Gwen and then having Thersa make a play for the goods. Spike lost count of how many times he'd shook his head at the screen, telling Ethan Crane that he could do so much better than those two picking biddies.

And that's how Angel found him a little more than two hours later; half asleep, channel surfing, and damning romance to hell.

Spike kept his body lax as Angel tip toed into the room, one hand behind his back. He knelt where Spike lay sprawled across the couch, still pretending to be a sleep. Then the brunet brought his hand out from behind his back and lay his hidden gift across his lover's chest.

Cool lips brushed across Spike's cheek before a rustle of clothing signified that Angel had stood up once more and was making an exit.

Spike cracked open his eyes to see a small bouquet of crimson snapdragons, wrapped in white paper and tied with a red ribbon. It was pretty in a way... In a way that the sire knew his childe would appreciate. Spike wanted to cry for a second. He'd been acting like a spoiled brat all day, thinking that Angel didn't give a rat's ass, only to have his lover bring him this.

But Spike didn't want to say any of that. He highly doubted that Angel would respond, much less appreciate the sentiment even if he had voiced it. So instead the blond vampire drew one of the fragile flowers from the bunch and threw it in the general direction of his cromagnum looking sire. The flower fell dreadfully short of his target, but regardless Spike got what he wanted, Angel's attention. "What? Were you too busy saving the world to spring for a box of chocolates, Luv?"

Angel turned and grinned as Spike finally removed himself from the couch and sidled up along side his working-man (er, vamp?).

"Well, there's always next year, right?" Spike said, a bit of his insecurity slipping out into the open air.

Angel nodded, wrapping his arms around Spike slighter body in a loose hug. "Yeah, and the year after that, and the year after that and-"

Silencing his rambling lover with a kiss, Spike couldn't help the grin the curved on his lips. Maybe Valentine's Day wasn't such a horrible holiday after all.