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thatotherpervwow, I was completely blown away by the response to the first chapter. both quantity and quality. I can't tell you how happy it makes me that yall like this one so much!
Title: I Burn
Author: Mel (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
thatotherperv)
Pairing: Angel/Spike
Rating: NC-17
Summary: human AU. Spike is a pyromaniac, stalking a fire investigator named Angel. An improbable love story (to say the least).
Warnings: Angst, obviously, from the setup. D/s but not of the usual variety. It’s more…emotional D/s than lifestyle or kink (though there is *some* kink, there’s nothing extreme). Hard to explain, but you’ll see.
infinite thanks tokitty_poker1 for being my second pair of eyes, giving me advice on plot, characterization, and the occasional spelling error. *squishes her*
Note: I accept concrit. but if you have something to discuss with me in need of improvement or clarification, you should bring that concern to me in this post or in email at thatotherperv@livejournal.com. it just makes my life easier to have it in one place.
“You breathe…I burn.”
—Toadies
Previous chapters here
Chapter 2
It had been two weeks since the brief contact Will had with Liam at Willy’s, and he was bored out of his bloody mind. And restless. Why hadn’t Liam been by since that day? Will had expected a few days’ absence…there always were when a certain case reared its head, but this was far too long.
Will had waited for months to meet the bloke. Tried to be patient, and the terror in his gut every time he thought about how their first meeting might go had helped with that. Not as though anyone had ever fancied him a catch, had they? He knew he could be…odd. He’d been mocked for it his whole life.
But it had gone well…hadn’t it? Had its awkward moments, yeah. Might have been better if he knew about American football, but Liam didn’t seem to care much about that. Will had been nearly shaking with the high of the recent burn, and of having those eyes focused on him for the first time. He’d had the bloke’s attention for months, but not like that. No tv camera between them. No crime scene. No press conference.
Just Liam and Will. Everything leading up to this paled in comparison.
Liam had gotten off his bar stool, and approached Will, and talked to him. Him. Finally. Just when Will was beginning to think he’d never do it.
Now, with this lengthy absence, he had no idea if he’d ever do it again. And Will was beginning to get that familiar itch. Hadn’t expected it so soon, but there was no denying…it had been gaining mass all week, whispering in his ear, burning the back of his skull. Caught himself staring at his lighter a bit too long last night. Just admiring. Imagining….
“Hey…Will, right?”
He froze in recognition of that voice, coins gone quiet as he paused in counting the change in the till. He still had a hard time believing his eyes when he looked up.
“…Angel.” Oh god. He’d never come in here before. This place wasn’t in his neighborhood.
“Good memory.” Liam smiled at him in that endearingly awkward way, and Will tried to shrug on his confidence despite the fact that he was feeling rattled.
Tried to be a little less ‘Will,’ and a little more ‘Spike.’
“How could I forget you, luv. What brings you by this fine establishment?”
Spike was pleased to see Liam color a bit before he lifted a case of pisswater beer onto the counter. “Drinkin’ alone?” He flirted his tongue behind his teeth, smug when it drew Liam’s eyes.
“Yeah, I guess…just…bad week.”
“Shame. I always find a bit of company’s the thing for stress relief.” Spike only shot him one brief look as he rang up the purchase, playing nervousness off as flirtation.
“Mmm.” He pretended not to notice the way that Liam’s eyes roved over his face and hands as he handled the transaction, feeling a warm, anxious buzz at the attention. When it was time to turn back with Liam’s change, he made a show of smirking as he caught him in the act.
Liam flushed, but he didn’t leave.
“So….” Liam studied the cage of metal and plexiglass around Spike. “Not a great neighborhood, huh?”
He let himself laugh. “Nah. But the place pulls in more dosh than you’d expect, given the location. Freeway traffic. Folks run out of gas, even in the slums.”
“Do you live….” It was an awkward question.
“Not far, but the neighborhood’s loads better. Well. Not loads, maybe, but…. Bloke that owns this place was desperate for someone to work the graveyard shift. Couldn’t find anyone for a month or so before me, so the pay’s good.” Was he babbling? No. Kept the pace slow and even, and threw a cocky stretch in for good measure. Liam eyed the bared strip of belly appreciatively.
“There’s probably a reason for that.”
Spike shrugged. “’M from London. Not the posh part, either…grew up in a real shithole.” That was a tad too personal for someone meant to be a complete stranger, and it was followed by awkward silence. He hurried to cover. “Besides, our customers are fine, upstanding citizens. Just tonight, I sold beer to Houston’s finest.”
At his wink, Liam’s body language loosened, and he leaned against the counter as though he were planning on staying a while. Spike had never actually regretted the security cage before.
“Finest, huh? Knew there was a reason I took this firefighter gig,” he joked. His broad fingers toyed with the pen that was chained to the countertop.
Spike sent him a brief flirtatious look, eyes holding long enough that they both warmed. “Did it for the lads, did you?” It was a seemingly casual question, but one that they both read as deliberate. Now was when they brought it out in the open…when Liam either smiled or ran.
He didn’t run.
What he did do is blush ever so lightly and grin foolishly, eyes ticking down to the mat on the counter that described the various types of lotto tickets on sale at this fine establishment. Spike felt a surge of confidence unlike anything he’d experienced without setting something on fire.
“Then again, ‘s a piss-poor reason to risk life and limb for a living, innit? Far easier ways to get laid, I’m sure.”
Liam returned his smirk and shrugged modestly. “I’m riding a desk these days. Not much risk involved anymore.”
He pretended sudden enlightenment. “Ah, yeah. That have anything to do with the way you ran off last time?”
Liam gave him a half-nod, suddenly distracted. “I’m a fire investigator. Means I tend to get called away on my off-time.” He huffed out a little laugh. “A lot.”
“So, when you rushed off before, was it about that bloke—”
“Shit,” Liam swore softly, and Will was confused until he pulled out a vibrating phone and answered. There were a few short questions barked into the cell whose answers had him pinching the bridge of his nose, voice edgy enough that Will felt sorry for the bloke on the other end. As he snapped his phone shut, he regarded Will with regret. “Look, I gotta….”
“Work?”
“Yeah. Fucking Spike. Again.”
Will froze. “Struck again, did he?”
“Maybe. We’ll see. Watch the news, I’m sure they’ll know before I do. Or they’ll think they do.”
His gears were spinning so furiously that he was unsure exactly what reply he made to that. Luckily, Liam was too distracted to notice.
“Look, Will, it was good talking to you—” His mobile began buzzing in his hand once again, and he swore. “I really have to go.”
“Yeah, ‘course, go on and be a hero.”
“Yeah….” Liam looked as though he didn’t know what to make of that. His phone went off a third time. “Maybe I’ll see you around? At Willy’s?”
Play it cool, mate. “Yeah. Maybe.”
His eyes followed Liam out of the convenience store, but his mind was already elsewhere.
Fucking copycat. There had been a few over the last couple months, once his story became news of the we-regret-to-interrupt-your-program variety. Filthy little buggers, trying to steal his glory.
Poached on Liam’s time, as well. That was even less forgivable.
It might be time to dip into his stash of keys. Didn’t think he could wait much longer, anyway.
~*~*~*~
It was a copycat. He’d known that much the minute he walked in the door, and the farther into the process he got, the less it looked like Spike. There was the signature icon and key, but that was as deep as the resemblance went. Looked like arson with the intent of insurance fraud.
It was a call that should have gone to the investigator that was on tonight, but the resemblance to Angel’s case meant he was the one stuck filing paperwork when he should have been knocking a few back and falling asleep on his couch. Somehow that pissed him off even more than if the call had been genuine.
He rubbed at his raw, exhausted eyes as he finished up his notes. The formal report could be written tomorrow. Pour pattern of the accelerant under the kitchen linoleum showed that the fire originated in the kitchen, by the stove. It was a common tactic of fraud arson, and completely contradictory to Spike’s pattern. This guy seemed to be setting himself up for an “accidental” kitchen fire when he must have gotten nervous and decided to cover his tracks. Another rich guy, over his head in debt because he was even more of a greedy bastard than his bank account afforded.
How many times had he seen that?
But in choosing to copy Spike, he screwed himself over by getting it all wrong. It was the wrong time of day—Spike always started fires during the standard workday, when the occupants were away. He usually started the fire in the living room, or sometimes a bedroom—never the kitchen. More material to stoke the fire rapidly, and there was no mistaking that the fire had been accidental if it started in the middle of a room, away from all appliances…when no one was home.
Spike liked to give Angel the finger that way.
The sun was rising as he left his office, bound for his truck. Fuck the beer, fuck the couch…he’d be passing out face-first on top of sheets that hadn’t seen a sleeping body in weeks.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Spike had to wait three agonizing days for relief. He was working every day that week—his other job—and some of the nights as well, at the convenience store. He didn’t go by Willy’s…it was hard enough keeping a good face while he was on the job, but he didn’t want to see Liam until it was done.
He had to go to work, keep up appearances, play the good little citizen, but on the inside, he was such a mess. Jittery and nervous and obsessive in his focus on what he’d soon be doing. The pressure of nownownow was immense, but outwardly he concentrated on being charming and normal. The people around him hopefully had no idea that if they’d required more of him than ‘Yes, sir’ or ‘That’ll be $3.11,’ the illusion would have fallen apart rapidly.
But when the day came, it all fell away and he was left with the calm clarity—that buzz of peace—that always came from giving in. He picked through the drawer, each key whispering logistics, and finally allowed himself to choose exactly which prick would be brought low today. He knew the bloke well…he was a bad man, all rotten inside. Spoiled and puffed up as a pampered peacock like him would be. Never a hard day in his life, no doubt.
Not like him and Liam.
Spike gathered up the jumpsuit with the electric company logo and the dark wig. He’d give Holland Manners the worst day of his wretched life. Give Liam something to wrap that big gorgeous brain around, while he was at it.
continued
Title: I Burn
Author: Mel (
thatotherperv)Pairing: Angel/Spike
Rating: NC-17
Summary: human AU. Spike is a pyromaniac, stalking a fire investigator named Angel. An improbable love story (to say the least).
Warnings: Angst, obviously, from the setup. D/s but not of the usual variety. It’s more…emotional D/s than lifestyle or kink (though there is *some* kink, there’s nothing extreme). Hard to explain, but you’ll see.
infinite thanks to
kitty_poker1 for being my second pair of eyes, giving me advice on plot, characterization, and the occasional spelling error. *squishes her*Note: I accept concrit. but if you have something to discuss with me in need of improvement or clarification, you should bring that concern to me in this post or in email at thatotherperv@livejournal.com. it just makes my life easier to have it in one place.
“You breathe…I burn.”
—Toadies
Previous chapters here
Chapter 2
It had been two weeks since the brief contact Will had with Liam at Willy’s, and he was bored out of his bloody mind. And restless. Why hadn’t Liam been by since that day? Will had expected a few days’ absence…there always were when a certain case reared its head, but this was far too long.
Will had waited for months to meet the bloke. Tried to be patient, and the terror in his gut every time he thought about how their first meeting might go had helped with that. Not as though anyone had ever fancied him a catch, had they? He knew he could be…odd. He’d been mocked for it his whole life.
But it had gone well…hadn’t it? Had its awkward moments, yeah. Might have been better if he knew about American football, but Liam didn’t seem to care much about that. Will had been nearly shaking with the high of the recent burn, and of having those eyes focused on him for the first time. He’d had the bloke’s attention for months, but not like that. No tv camera between them. No crime scene. No press conference.
Just Liam and Will. Everything leading up to this paled in comparison.
Liam had gotten off his bar stool, and approached Will, and talked to him. Him. Finally. Just when Will was beginning to think he’d never do it.
Now, with this lengthy absence, he had no idea if he’d ever do it again. And Will was beginning to get that familiar itch. Hadn’t expected it so soon, but there was no denying…it had been gaining mass all week, whispering in his ear, burning the back of his skull. Caught himself staring at his lighter a bit too long last night. Just admiring. Imagining….
“Hey…Will, right?”
He froze in recognition of that voice, coins gone quiet as he paused in counting the change in the till. He still had a hard time believing his eyes when he looked up.
“…Angel.” Oh god. He’d never come in here before. This place wasn’t in his neighborhood.
“Good memory.” Liam smiled at him in that endearingly awkward way, and Will tried to shrug on his confidence despite the fact that he was feeling rattled.
Tried to be a little less ‘Will,’ and a little more ‘Spike.’
“How could I forget you, luv. What brings you by this fine establishment?”
Spike was pleased to see Liam color a bit before he lifted a case of pisswater beer onto the counter. “Drinkin’ alone?” He flirted his tongue behind his teeth, smug when it drew Liam’s eyes.
“Yeah, I guess…just…bad week.”
“Shame. I always find a bit of company’s the thing for stress relief.” Spike only shot him one brief look as he rang up the purchase, playing nervousness off as flirtation.
“Mmm.” He pretended not to notice the way that Liam’s eyes roved over his face and hands as he handled the transaction, feeling a warm, anxious buzz at the attention. When it was time to turn back with Liam’s change, he made a show of smirking as he caught him in the act.
Liam flushed, but he didn’t leave.
“So….” Liam studied the cage of metal and plexiglass around Spike. “Not a great neighborhood, huh?”
He let himself laugh. “Nah. But the place pulls in more dosh than you’d expect, given the location. Freeway traffic. Folks run out of gas, even in the slums.”
“Do you live….” It was an awkward question.
“Not far, but the neighborhood’s loads better. Well. Not loads, maybe, but…. Bloke that owns this place was desperate for someone to work the graveyard shift. Couldn’t find anyone for a month or so before me, so the pay’s good.” Was he babbling? No. Kept the pace slow and even, and threw a cocky stretch in for good measure. Liam eyed the bared strip of belly appreciatively.
“There’s probably a reason for that.”
Spike shrugged. “’M from London. Not the posh part, either…grew up in a real shithole.” That was a tad too personal for someone meant to be a complete stranger, and it was followed by awkward silence. He hurried to cover. “Besides, our customers are fine, upstanding citizens. Just tonight, I sold beer to Houston’s finest.”
At his wink, Liam’s body language loosened, and he leaned against the counter as though he were planning on staying a while. Spike had never actually regretted the security cage before.
“Finest, huh? Knew there was a reason I took this firefighter gig,” he joked. His broad fingers toyed with the pen that was chained to the countertop.
Spike sent him a brief flirtatious look, eyes holding long enough that they both warmed. “Did it for the lads, did you?” It was a seemingly casual question, but one that they both read as deliberate. Now was when they brought it out in the open…when Liam either smiled or ran.
He didn’t run.
What he did do is blush ever so lightly and grin foolishly, eyes ticking down to the mat on the counter that described the various types of lotto tickets on sale at this fine establishment. Spike felt a surge of confidence unlike anything he’d experienced without setting something on fire.
“Then again, ‘s a piss-poor reason to risk life and limb for a living, innit? Far easier ways to get laid, I’m sure.”
Liam returned his smirk and shrugged modestly. “I’m riding a desk these days. Not much risk involved anymore.”
He pretended sudden enlightenment. “Ah, yeah. That have anything to do with the way you ran off last time?”
Liam gave him a half-nod, suddenly distracted. “I’m a fire investigator. Means I tend to get called away on my off-time.” He huffed out a little laugh. “A lot.”
“So, when you rushed off before, was it about that bloke—”
“Shit,” Liam swore softly, and Will was confused until he pulled out a vibrating phone and answered. There were a few short questions barked into the cell whose answers had him pinching the bridge of his nose, voice edgy enough that Will felt sorry for the bloke on the other end. As he snapped his phone shut, he regarded Will with regret. “Look, I gotta….”
“Work?”
“Yeah. Fucking Spike. Again.”
Will froze. “Struck again, did he?”
“Maybe. We’ll see. Watch the news, I’m sure they’ll know before I do. Or they’ll think they do.”
His gears were spinning so furiously that he was unsure exactly what reply he made to that. Luckily, Liam was too distracted to notice.
“Look, Will, it was good talking to you—” His mobile began buzzing in his hand once again, and he swore. “I really have to go.”
“Yeah, ‘course, go on and be a hero.”
“Yeah….” Liam looked as though he didn’t know what to make of that. His phone went off a third time. “Maybe I’ll see you around? At Willy’s?”
Play it cool, mate. “Yeah. Maybe.”
His eyes followed Liam out of the convenience store, but his mind was already elsewhere.
Fucking copycat. There had been a few over the last couple months, once his story became news of the we-regret-to-interrupt-your-program variety. Filthy little buggers, trying to steal his glory.
Poached on Liam’s time, as well. That was even less forgivable.
It might be time to dip into his stash of keys. Didn’t think he could wait much longer, anyway.
~*~*~*~
It was a copycat. He’d known that much the minute he walked in the door, and the farther into the process he got, the less it looked like Spike. There was the signature icon and key, but that was as deep as the resemblance went. Looked like arson with the intent of insurance fraud.
It was a call that should have gone to the investigator that was on tonight, but the resemblance to Angel’s case meant he was the one stuck filing paperwork when he should have been knocking a few back and falling asleep on his couch. Somehow that pissed him off even more than if the call had been genuine.
He rubbed at his raw, exhausted eyes as he finished up his notes. The formal report could be written tomorrow. Pour pattern of the accelerant under the kitchen linoleum showed that the fire originated in the kitchen, by the stove. It was a common tactic of fraud arson, and completely contradictory to Spike’s pattern. This guy seemed to be setting himself up for an “accidental” kitchen fire when he must have gotten nervous and decided to cover his tracks. Another rich guy, over his head in debt because he was even more of a greedy bastard than his bank account afforded.
How many times had he seen that?
But in choosing to copy Spike, he screwed himself over by getting it all wrong. It was the wrong time of day—Spike always started fires during the standard workday, when the occupants were away. He usually started the fire in the living room, or sometimes a bedroom—never the kitchen. More material to stoke the fire rapidly, and there was no mistaking that the fire had been accidental if it started in the middle of a room, away from all appliances…when no one was home.
Spike liked to give Angel the finger that way.
The sun was rising as he left his office, bound for his truck. Fuck the beer, fuck the couch…he’d be passing out face-first on top of sheets that hadn’t seen a sleeping body in weeks.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Spike had to wait three agonizing days for relief. He was working every day that week—his other job—and some of the nights as well, at the convenience store. He didn’t go by Willy’s…it was hard enough keeping a good face while he was on the job, but he didn’t want to see Liam until it was done.
He had to go to work, keep up appearances, play the good little citizen, but on the inside, he was such a mess. Jittery and nervous and obsessive in his focus on what he’d soon be doing. The pressure of nownownow was immense, but outwardly he concentrated on being charming and normal. The people around him hopefully had no idea that if they’d required more of him than ‘Yes, sir’ or ‘That’ll be $3.11,’ the illusion would have fallen apart rapidly.
But when the day came, it all fell away and he was left with the calm clarity—that buzz of peace—that always came from giving in. He picked through the drawer, each key whispering logistics, and finally allowed himself to choose exactly which prick would be brought low today. He knew the bloke well…he was a bad man, all rotten inside. Spoiled and puffed up as a pampered peacock like him would be. Never a hard day in his life, no doubt.
Not like him and Liam.
Spike gathered up the jumpsuit with the electric company logo and the dark wig. He’d give Holland Manners the worst day of his wretched life. Give Liam something to wrap that big gorgeous brain around, while he was at it.
continued
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 05:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 06:07 pm (UTC)copycats suck!
Also *scratches head* how exactly does Will have all those keys? Very mysterious...
*snickers and runs away*
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 05:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 06:09 pm (UTC)haha, I'm so glad my UST did the trick as it was supposed to. also glad you enjoy that wrong edge to the way Spike is
stalkingwooing him. nope, I had it right the first time.no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 06:02 pm (UTC)“Finest, huh? Knew there was a reason I took this firefighter gig,” he joked. His broad fingers toyed with the pen that was chained to the countertop.
Spike sent him a brief flirtatious look, eyes holding long enough that they both warmed. “Did it for the lads, did you?” It was a seemingly casual question, but one that they both read as deliberate. Now was when they brought it out in the open…when Liam either smiled or ran.
He didn’t run.
What he did do is blush ever so lightly and grin foolishly, eyes ticking down to the mat on the counter that described the various types of lotto tickets on sale at this fine establishment. Spike felt a surge of confidence unlike anything he’d experienced without setting something on fire.
I particularly like this exchange. The courtship dance, but also Will's connection to Angel is clearly separate and yet connected to his other one. It's interesting. Like two brush fires instead of one. It's good there is some separation, though he clearly over-identifies with Angel when he decides he and Liam never had it so good later.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 06:12 pm (UTC)yeah, there is a bit of double-courtship going on here, and that only gets more pronounced in the next chapter. I really like getting into Will's head, although it's a messy and hazardous place to be.
though he clearly over-identifies with Angel when he decides he and Liam never had it so good later.
mmm, *is* he over-identifying? or does he just know some things we don't? :)
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 06:03 pm (UTC)I LOVE this, it's like a drug
so original and OMGWHATNEXT lmao
He’d had the bloke’s attention for months, but not like that. No tv camera between them. No crime scene. No press conference.
I LURVE THAT SO MUCHHHH
And gah poor Will spazzing out and Ooo Holland
But me being me, all I can think is "oh god, poor boys when Liam finds out" *is a big sap*
lol *hugs you to pieces*
YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 06:15 pm (UTC)*squishes you* thanks sweetie, that's a lovely compliment.
I know, haha. I'm so bad that I love Spike stalking Liam so blatantly. it's an odd turn-on. and yeah, Will is spazzin. he's not too well in the head, haha. and Holland? totally has it coming. burn baby burn.
But me being me, all I can think is "oh god, poor boys when Liam finds out" *is a big sap*
*snuggles you* it'll be ok! eventually!
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 07:24 pm (UTC)But most of all I love the way you show what goes through Spike's mind. He's pretty mixed up uh? So damn intriguing!
Now can't wait to see what'll happen to Holland... that something to wrap that big gorgeous brain around...
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 07:28 pm (UTC)Will/Spike is a very messed up guy. he's not a *bad* guy, but yeah. he's not all right. he really does need Liam, and Liam needs him, but that part hasn't become apparent yet :)
oh yeah. he wants to be the center of Liam's world. no one fucks with that.
Now can't wait to see what'll happen to Holland... that something to wrap that big gorgeous brain around...
well, we don't actually see what happens to Holland specifically. he's just going to start another fire and continue playing the game of cat and mouse with Angel.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 07:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 07:29 pm (UTC)I'm glad you enjoy it!
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 07:26 pm (UTC)you mentioned other jobs, so i'm thinking someone might work for a locksmith? hmmmm *ponders*
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 07:31 pm (UTC)you mentioned other jobs, so i'm thinking someone might work for a locksmith? hmmmm *ponders*
you're warm. thinking along the right lines, anyway :) it comes up more in chapter 3
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 08:00 pm (UTC)god its sad how much i love this one haha
*twirls around* this was awweesommee
i love will
so much
SO MUCH
so adorable and guh and the poor jittery needing thing, n the way youve already got us on his side though hes technically a bad guy
and its just
*loves this so much*
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 08:16 pm (UTC)he is all jittery and needy.
n the way youve already got us on his side though hes technically a bad guy
that's a very necessary thing! I'm glad to hear that. :)
I love that you love it.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 08:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 08:50 pm (UTC)*hugs*
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 09:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 09:08 pm (UTC)Also fascinating, the way you put us in the head and the thoughts of a pyromaniac. I've always wondered how it feels for the author to write such characters :)
I'm glad you enjoy getting into Will's head! writing it is...um. haha. intense? I've been living with this character in my head since July, so he's kind of made a cozy little home up there...which is possibly not the best thing for my own sanity :) he's all mixed up and vulnerable. and needy. that's the biggest one.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 09:17 pm (UTC)I want more. *pouty lip*
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 09:31 pm (UTC)Damaged Will/Spike is such a big kink of mine.
oh, there is *plenty* of damaged Will in this fic. hahaha. oh man, is there. mental illness, the gift that keeps on giving.
next week. put that lip away ;)
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 10:11 pm (UTC)I mean, no, stop! Pyro!
Anyway, I like the way you set up Spike's need to burn, like it's an itch under his skin. Very eerie.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 01:13 am (UTC)I'm glad you like the description of the itch. pyromania is an impulse-control disorder, so that's my best guess as to the build-up :)
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 10:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 01:14 am (UTC)*whistles innocently*
I'm glad you're along for the ride!
no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 02:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 02:47 am (UTC)I love this view into Spike's mind. I find him to be quite sympathetic at this point.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 03:49 am (UTC)But isn't the W&H guy named Holland Manners? (If he's the one you're thinking about.)
Marie
no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 05:01 am (UTC)hm, how does he have access to all of those keys i wonder? i'm so intrigued! and i loved how much spike let slip on the personal details! and how he's really split between his spike persona and will. i love how you're developing that.
this story totally kicks ass, and i hope that this comment goes through. :)
no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 05:05 am (UTC)btw, I just read this and very nearly died of happiness. when you read it, you'll think it was a very weird thing to die of happiness from.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 05:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 04:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 03:17 pm (UTC)Unfortunately, omgwow! is still all I can come up with. ;)
no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 04:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:So happy.
Date: 2007-05-07 03:56 pm (UTC)Love that! Love Spike/Will. Keep this going it's really great.
Btw, I've added you although I have before but with another account: IJMLSM . But that account crashed, don't ask me why...
Re: So happy.
Date: 2007-05-07 05:02 pm (UTC)cool, thanks I'll add back. I'm glad you like this!
no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 05:18 pm (UTC)I'm not quite sure why, but I found that line freaking hilarious! Yep, I think it's safe to say that something is very wrong with me...
Anyway, on with me telling you how much I love this fic and how amazing you are, both of which you already know 'cos I'm pretty sure I babbled on about it after reading the first part.
Mental illness just keeps giving the goods, doesn't it? I mean, there's the whole pyro thing of course, and then the split personality issue. And I ain't just talking Spike/Will. After all, Liam did introduce himself to Will as 'Angel'... *raises eyebrow*
Anyways, another epic comment from Little Miss Can't Shut the Hell Up... *stuffs a sock in big, fat mouth, hugs you, then scampers off*
no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 08:26 pm (UTC)haha, yeah, it's pretty much the angsty gift that keeps on giving in this fic.
then the split personality issue. And I ain't just talking Spike/Will. After all, Liam did introduce himself to Will as 'Angel'... *raises eyebrow*
*snickers* well, I have this love affair with making use of all of their names. so that possibly isn't as much Angel's fault as it is mine. hahaha. but there'll be more on why he doesn't go by his real name later.
and for the record, I looove epic comments :) I'm glad you're enjoying this!
no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 05:28 pm (UTC)This was another fine turn of phrase: "...Will tried to shrug on his confidence despite the fact that he was feeling rattled."
You painted a vivid scene in the fire investigation, and I really love how pissed Liam is that it's just a copycat fire. The connection between these two is smoldering nicely.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 08:42 pm (UTC)haha, I was amused at the idea that he was angry it was a copycat, when he should have been grateful. and hee! smoldering ;)
no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 05:59 pm (UTC)Looking forward to the next!
no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 08:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 12:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 07:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-09 12:32 pm (UTC)I really like the flirtatious relationship developing between the boys. Also you are conveying the urgency that Spike feels when he needs to start another fire and his annoyance that someone is coping him and taking Liam's time from him.
Can't wait for the next chapter.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-09 02:54 pm (UTC)I'm glad you like where I'm going with this. *hugs*