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FIC: The Immortal's (sweet) Revenge.

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This story is No. 2 in the series "My Immortal.". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: Or: Capt. Jack pwns Spike & Angel. Concurrently. (Wildly AU crack!fic. Set at the very end of TGiQ.) Spike/Jack/Angel.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Dr. Who/Torchwood > Angel-CenteredelisiFR1526,741282,40121 Sep 0930 Sep 09Yes

Chapter One

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I merely bow before RTD and Joss and apologise profusely.

A/N: Written for the grazieprego ficathon, celebrating TGiQ's 5th anniversary. Yes, it features Jack as The Immortal, but it is in no way related to 'My Immortal'. This is just me having entirely too much fun! I hope you enjoy. :)

The Immortal’s (sweet) Revenge

But Captain Jack will get you high tonight,
And take you to your special island.
Captain Jack will get you by tonight.
Just a little push, and you’ll be smilin’.

If there was one thing Angel knew how to deal with, it was pain. Oh yes. Brooding was something he had graduated in with honours.

Abject humiliation on the other hand... well, that was something else. Stepping out of the lift and making a beeline for his office - Spike trailing in his wake as he had all evening - Angel silently thanked the Powers that no one here would ever know what had gone down in Rome. (‘Beeline’ being a rather appropriate word actually, since walking in a straight line was not entirely straightforward - not that he was drunk, just a little tipsy maybe, but in Rome the plane had been restocked with decent sized bottles and it had seemed silly not to take advantage).

Of course Harmony bounced out from behind her desk the second she saw him, but striding onwards he tried his best to ignore her and not growl.

“Angel! Wait! There’s- uh-”

“Not now Harmony!” he managed through clenched teeth, and threw his office doors open. He wondered how much compensation he’d have to pay if he punched her, and had just decided that it would totally be worth it for the satisfaction of releasing some energy, when he stopped abruptly at the sight that greeted him.

In his chair - with his feet propped up on his desk - was a man. A tall, handsome, well dressed man whose smug face Angel had spent many hours fantasising about smashing to pieces. Only in his daydreams the man in question had never been reading Marie Claire...

Then, thanks to Angel’s sudden standstill, Spike walked straight into his back and swore loudly.

At this The Immortal looked up and smiled widely, probably thinking himself charming whereas in reality he mostly resembled a toothpaste commercial.

“Angel! You finally got here. But don’t worry, Harmony’s been looking after me exceptionally well while I waited.”

He grinned and swung his feet down on the floor.

“Hey!” Spike exclaimed. “That’s our bag!”

Taking his eyes off the smarmy bastard who’d invaded his office Angel finally noticed the bag on top of the desk - the very bag they’d been chasing around Rome...

“That it is,” The Immortal replied. “Thought I’d better bring it back myself - you kept losing it, and we wouldn’t want a demon war on our hands, would we now?”

Looking past Angel he caught sight of Harmony who had followed them into the room, her eyes darting back and forth worriedly.

“And here’s the most gorgeous PA in LA to take care of it. Harmony!”

Carefully stepping around Angel so she was out of reach, she walked forwards, and The Immortal handed over the bag.

“I’m sure you can get this to the Goran demon clan, right?”

She nodded, and he reached behind him, picked up the magazine and put it in her other hand.

“Oh - and yes, definitely the Versace. Wonderful investment. Seriously, it’ll never go out of fashion. Well except for the 35th Century, but that’s to do with a whole nudist thing... trust me, you’re going to love it!”

Harmony laughed - without managing to dispel the impression that she didn’t have a clue what he was on about - and The Immortal held up a hand, eyes narrowing.

“Actually - what do you say that you get the dress, and next time I’m in town I’ll take you out for dinner so I can see you wearing it... And then maybe see you take it off too!”

He followed up the statement with a Very Significant Look, eyes trailing over Harmony from head to foot in a way that indicated that he might just have x-ray vision. (A thought that was rather disturbing.)

Angel found himself utterly speechless at the display, but thankfully Spike was less vocally inhibited.

“You bloody disgusting two-timing bastard!”

The Immortal turned to them, looking from one to the other with surprise writ large on his face.

“Excuse me?”

“You think we’re just gonna stand around and let you get away with cheating on- on Buffy?”

The words seemed to get stuck in Spike’s throat, as if saying them out loud meant actual defeat, but The Immortal tilted his head, obviously still not following.

“What does this have to do with Buffy?”

“Are you thick or something?” Spike countered, incredulous.

The Immortal frowned. “Why should my dating Buffy now somehow impact on who I date in the future? I mean she’s amazing - obviously - but not exactly the love of my life - or vice versa. We’re more like... friends with benefits. Quite, quite extraordinary benefits it has to be said...”

His eyes unfocussed slightly and Angel felt his hands balling into fists again. The Immortal blinked.

“What was I saying? Um, yes... Harmony - next time I’m here, it’s a date. Might be a few years - or a few centuries - but that shouldn’t exactly be a problem, should it now? Anyway, go get that demon head where it belongs, and it’s probably for the best if you send everyone home. I think the good vampires here and I need some peace to work things out.”

Harmony nodded and left, in passing shooting Angel a look that clearly said ‘I’m totally going to sleep with him and you can’t stop me’, and Angel gritted his teeth. Had The Immortal made it his mission to sleep with every woman he or Spike had ever dated?

The Immortal’s eyes trailed after Harmony until she closed the doors, and then he turned back to Angel, softly shaking his head. “How do you ever get any work done with eyecandy like that around? Or is she some sort of self-flagellation thing - see, don’t touch?”

The words seemed to finally shake Angel out of the stasis he’d been trapped in.

“Why are you here?”

Hands in his pockets The Immortal sauntered up to him, and Angel’s jaw clenched, as he studied the other man warily. They were pretty evenly matched in size and height, but who knew what kind of powers The Immortal had? Apart from a gun, but that was pretty useless. Somewhere there was a catch, or trick, or... something, Angel would bet his soul on it.

The Immortal studied him impassively.

“Well I thought it about time that we got this thing over and done with once and for all. But, before we start, can I just ask - have you ever stopped to work out why you hate me so much?”

Before Angel could speak, The Immortal held up his hand. “Because I’ve got a theory, and it goes something like this...”

A sudden wicked smile spread across his face.

“So you’re the worst vampire in the world? That don’t impress me-”

He didn’t get any further before Angel punched him so hard he almost went flying. In Angel’s estimation it was a very satisfying punch, and made his fist itch for en encore.

“You really shouldn’t have come here!” he said with as much menace as he could cram into his voice, but The Immortal just grinned dangerously and then vaulted over the desk, swiftly picking a dagger off the wall.

Tensing up, Angel felt more than saw Spike move to the side so the other man was cornered - even if armed he wouldn’t be able to take both of them on.

But The Immortal merely turned the dagger over experimentally, weighing it in his hands, before looking up, eyes brimming full of something Angel couldn’t quite put his finger on, which made him nervous. It was the sort of look men had on their face when they suddenly pulled out a concealed hand grenade.

“A vampire’s office... No computer, but a wall full of primitive weapons. Tells you all you need to know, really.”

He looked from one to the other, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“So is this the part where we fight to the death? Sorry, not going to play. Here - catch!”

He tossed the dagger at Angel, who caught it automatically, and then held up his hands as if at gunpoint.

“Listen, you obviously want to make me pay for all those terrible things I did to you. Like... oh, sleeping with your exceedingly willing and grateful girlfriends, and saving nuns from a grizzly end... Well here I am, do your worst! Seriously, I’m all yours. I’ve got no hidden stakes, have no special powers or strength, no back-up. To be honest I have only one trick...”

Damn. He had known something was coming. Angel considered throwing the dagger, but that might be what the guy was waiting for...

“I always come back from the dead exactly the same - you could carve me up like a Sunday roast and I’d be just fine. Would you like a demonstration?”

With a smooth flourish he pulled the gun from its holster and held it to his temple, eyes narrowing.

“Ready? ‘Fraid it’s going to make a hell of a mess of your carpet though. Can I recommend concrete flooring and exposed bricks as far superior interior design when you kill people on a regular basis?”

“Wait!” Angel called out - his carpet cleaning bills were through the roof already.

The Immortal shrugged, put the gun away, and took a few steps in Angel’s direction, hands on hips.

“So what’ll it be, Hero? I’m completely in your power. Go on, give me what I deserve!”

They were eye to eye again, only a foot separating them... and Angel hesitated.

They were supposed to fight, to have a battle of wits and wills and power. He couldn’t win when his opponent just gave up. It was... cheating. Which was just typical.

But before he could decide what course of action to pursue now, The Immortal took another step forward, suddenly so close that Angel could feel his breath.

“Look. What do you say that we skip the games and just get to the point already? You know, the part where you throw me over the nearest item of furniture and fuck me until I’ve forgotten all my names?”

Angel could actually feel his jaw drop, as The Immortal raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting a reply to his lunatic proposition.


The Immortal held his eyes, never wavering, and when he spoke his voice was low and intimate. “I’m not joking.”

Angel swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. Using sex as a weapon was the oldest trick in the book, except this clearly - oh so very clearly - wasn’t a trick...

Then The Immortal leaned in, and Angel instinctively took a step back, brandishing the dagger, which earned him a look of pure triumph and teasing.

“Oh come on, Angel, you know as well as I do that this was never about nuns or girlfriends or demon heads or any of the stupid things we’ve fought over throughout the years. It was about you, and me, and him...”

A slow, wolfish grin. “Especially him!”

He turned and looked Spike over from head to toe and back up again, in an exactly copy of his Harmony ogling. And Spike - for once in his life - seemed lost for words.

Smirking The Immortal turned back to Angel. “It’s called sexual tension - I’m sure it’s not a new concept for you. So, let’s get it out of the way. Apparently your way of dealing with problems involves either killings things or brooding, but I’ve always found that sex works much better than either of those.”

Seeing that they were both speechless, The Immortal rolled his eyes. “All I’m asking is that you let me join in for one night. I am, literally, putting myself entirely in your hands.”

Angel finally found his voice.

“Join in... join in what?”

“You two, obviously.”

The Immortal pointed from him to Spike, and Angel blinked, then blinked again. “You think we...”

“Well duh!”

Angel shook his head, opening his mouth to point out that he had a girlfriend, but The Immortal cut in.

“You don’t? Really? Never?”

Apparently they had finally managed to stun him... although not to shut him up.

He-” The Immortal pointed to Spike, “-is the best shag in 23 galaxies, and you are telling me that in the half year he’s been around - all redeemed and available - you have never done anything at all? Not a kiss, a grope, a quickie on the desk? Nothing, ever? What the hell is wrong with you?”

He shook his head, incredulous and determined. “OK, you know what? You don’t deserve him. I should take him back to Buffy when we’re done - she appreciates his skills!”

They stared each other down - not even moving at Spike’s ‘You what?’ - and Angel’s hand tightened around the dagger.

“I’m giving you one chance to get out Immortal, and then...”

He let the sentence hang, and The Immortal sighed, actually looking defeated.

“Oh Angel. I didn’t want it to come to this, but you leave me no choice. This has been going on too long, and you’re too stubborn. Also, with any luck at all I’ll soon get off this sorry little world, and never see you again. Wouldn’t want to leave you unsatisfied.”

He reached into his pocket and brought out what looked like a perfume bottle, although the substance inside appeared to glow. Angel backed away, but The Immortal turned the nuzzle towards himself, closing his eyes against the spray.

Angel rolled his eyes, thinking how typical it was that the guy carried aftershave around with him - but then he caught the scent and it was as if a mist descended over his mind... All of a sudden there was only one thing in the whole world that mattered, and that was the man in front of him.

(Somewhere at the very back of his mind a small voice was horrified, but he didn’t pay attention to voices in his head. Not anymore.)

Stepping forwards he grabbed The Immortal and kissed him roughly, hungrily, only pulling back to growl “I want you now!”

The Immortal laughed breathlessly in response, heart racing and eyes bright and blue like the sky on a summer afternoon. (He felt like sunshine...)

There was a strangled outburst from Spike’s direction, and they both turned their heads, seeing Spike staring at them like they were lunatics, which was ridiculous since it was Spike who was insane for not trying to join in.

“Hold that thought,” The Immortal said, untangling himself from Angel’s grip and walking up to Spike, who actually backed away, horrified.

“You’re not bloody doin’ a number on me, mate. Is this what you did to Buffy?”

“Buffy,” The Immortal replied, with emphasis, “is smart enough to recognise a good thing when she sees it. Unlike certain other people.”

Then he reached out, a hand to Spike’s neck, and instantly Spike’s eyes glazed over.

And then The Immortal was kissing him... acting not entirely unlike a man being saved from drowning, tilting Spike’s head just so, as if he’d done it a thousand times before.

When they pulled apart, The Immortal shook his head, his hand softly stroking Spike’s cheek.

“I’ve missed that more than you can imagine.”

Spike looked confused and then ignored him, instead catching Angel’s eyes.

“He’s wearing too many clothes.”

Angel nodded assent. “Penthouse.”

Holding onto The Immortal’s shirt Spike dragged him towards the lift, already busy unbuttoning their prize, and Angel followed, sneaking a possessive arm around The Immortal’s middle and burying his face in his neck, inhaling deeply as the doors shut.

The smell was maddening and delicious, and he could feel the blood pumping right under the skin, as hot and inviting as any human’s... Without thinking he changed into gameface, fangs pressing against the other man’s pulse.

The Immortal made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a moan, arching into the vampire, and finally, as he penetrated the skin, Angel was completely lost - only a single thought briefly glimmering in his mind.

Darla had been right. (Darla was always right.)
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