Here we go, this is a plot that I have been playing around with for a while.

It is going to be a long story and it is not just a pwp. It will be Spuffy, but individually each character has some major baggage to contend with before we completely get there.

Mergers and Acquisitions:

What good is it for man to gain the whole world yet forfeit his soul.

Mark 8:36

"Oh yeah baby, so good." The girl said "So fucking big"

"S' that right?" Spike asked the girl, who was currently bouncing on his lap. He knew her words were about as genuine as her tits. He he was only half hard at the time and was past the point of caring.

For all that he cared she could be reading him the latest stock reports, that is if she were capable of understanding the stock reports. Then again he wasn't paying her for help with his portfolio.

He really wished that she would just shut the fuck up and get him off so that he could get some peace and quiet.

It had been a long tedious week for William "Spike" Pratt, and the tedium just continued.

Despite the many talents of the girl currently riding him at a full gallop he was still bored.

He knew he needed a change in his life but he didn't know where to start.

Actually he did, without any apology he gently pushed the girl from his lap.

She started to drop to her knees and service him with her mouth, but he stood up and began pulling his jeans up towards his narrow hips.

"Hey, what's the problem?" The girl asked, obviously offended by the fact that he wasn't responding to her.

"Believe me pet, it's not you it's me." He answered before grabbing his black leather duster and heading out into the Los Angeles night air.

"Well no refunds." She said dejectedly.

"Wouldn't dream of asking." He pulled his wallet out of his coat pocket and threw four one hundred dollar bills onto the bed and walked out the door.

Two hours and eight shots of single malt scotch later, Spike was starting to feel a bit more relaxed or that was until a certain unwanted man pulled up a chair and sat down at the table next to him.

"I knew that I'd find you here."

"Well, I'm nothing if not reliable."

"I've been trying your phone for two hours now."

"I had an appointment." Spike answered with no further elaboration.

"Let me guess, blonde? Redhead? Brunette? Or was she another raven haired beauty like...?"

"Don't you dare say her name, you don't have the right to say one word about her." Spike was on his feet ready to fight.

"Look, she was my cousin and she was bat shit crazy, so calm the fuck down."

The man grabbed a waitress and ordered another round of drinks hoping to soothe Spike's temper.

"What do you want Liam?"

"You missed the Granger meeting this afternoon."

"Yeah, well I'm sorry, I don't care."

"I noticed Spike, but it was a seventy five million dollar deal."

Together William and Liam were majority share holders in Wolfram and Hart Inc."

The company was one of the largest privately owned corporations in the country.

They had interests in manufacturing, media, corporate security and even retail, but the majority of what they did was to snap up struggling companies and tear them apart and resell the pieces at a major profit.

"In case you're interested I closed the deal."

He was nursing the drink that the waitress brought, but Spike had thrown his back and downed it in one gulp.

"In case you're interested, I don't give a bleedin fuck." He said while looking for the waitress again.

"That's a two point five million dollar paycheck for each of us."

"I've already got plenty of money." Spike was becoming as petulant as a two year old.

"Then what in the hell do you want Spike?"

Good bloody question, Spike thought.

"We're parasites Liam, nothing but vampires feeding on the misfortune and life blood of others."

"It's business Spike, it's what we do."

"Christ, would you listen to yourself, it's like a victory to you when a man just struggling to keep a roof above his and his families head, has no choice but to give up and surrender to your pathetic low ball offers, just in order to survive."

"I didn't hear you complaining when you were out buying mansions, driving Italian sports cars, partying with celebrities and dating Victoria Secret models."

"Well that was a long time ago, people can change, can't they?"

"That was two years ago Spike, right before you met Dru."

And with the mention of his lost love's name, Spike balled up his fist and took a swing.

He swung and missed.

He was so drunk that he fell face first and hit the table, cutting himself pretty deeply above his left eye.

"You're so trashed that I'm going to let that slide, but if you ever take another swing at me you'd better connect."

The waitress that had been waiting on him all evening saw what had happened and was instantly at their table with another drink, a bandage and a bar towel filled with ice.

She knelt down next to him, and kissed the wound after she applied the bandage.

Despite his all black outfit, his worn Doc Martins and the beat up duster that he wore, she had a gift for smelling money, and his scent was sweeter than most.

"Poor baby" she coddled, "I think that may leave a scar above those gorgeous baby blues, is there anything else that I could get you honey?"

He would have rolled his eyes if it wouldn't have been so bloody painful, instead he said "no thanks poodle."

"I think my friend has had quite enough," Liam pulled out his credit card and said "put it all on this, and when you come back, could you bring him a big glass of water?"

"Sure thing" She winked, taking notice of the black credit card, but then began to wonder if she misjudged the men. She was sure that the sexy blonde had been checking her out earlier, but maybe she was wrong, maybe they didn't like girls after all.

The next thing that William knew he was waking up in his bed, with the sun shining through his window blinding him momentarily; and then the headache kicked in.

He was in agony, as he stood up stumbling over flat surface. He had almost made it across the large expanse of his bedroom before his stomach lurched spilling the contents from the previous nights' bender.

Almost but not quite with a soft groan of pain he spat "Fuck that's disgusting" before he finally made it to pleasantly cool and dark bathroom.

After brushing his teeth, and spending an hour working the knots out of his muscles under the steaming water coming from his multiple shower heads, spike was feeling almost human again.

He slung a plush black towel around his hips and headed to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

Sitting at his breakfast bar, still in the clothes that he was wearing last night, which meant that he had been there all night was Liam.

"Morning Sunshine." He said much more loudly than was entirely necessary.

"What the fuck are you still doin here, Peaches?"

"Now Willie, is that anyway to thank the man who took care of your drunk ass last night?"

"I don't recall asking you to now did I?"

"Somebody has to don't they?"

Spike was waiting for the water in his Keurig maker to heat so he went to the fridge and started guzzling white wine directly from the bottle.

"Get your coffee, get dressed and get your shit together now Spike."

"We need to get to work, we still have paperwork to deal with for the Granger account, and I would like a shower and a change of clothes before we go"

"And I told you last night, that I don't give a damn about the bloody Granger account."

"I thought that was just your normal drunk bullshit, like when you bleached your hair that color."

"Oy! There's nothing wrong with my hair color, you git."

"Whatever captain peroxide, just go put some clothes on and let's go."

"I've already told you, I'm not going today."

Liam, was beginning to get concerned.

It wasn't that he cared if Spike wanted to sell his shares of the company to him, he would be happy to buy him out if he really wanted to quit.

No Liam, was concerned that his friend or arch nemesis depending on which day it was, was slipping down into a deep depression.

He had started drinking heavily lately, and he was spending a small fortune on hookers too.

Since Drusilla's suicide, over a year earlier, Spike hadn't shown even the slightest interest in anyone.

Spike stretched out on his leather sofa and picked up the remote for his plasma t.v.

He clicked on his dvr box and pulled up the first recorded episode of Passions.

"Soaps, really Spike?"

"What it's a brilliant show?" Spike defended.

"What do you want Spike?"

That really was the crux of it, Spike thought, what did he want? He just didn't know anymore.

He thought that he needed to do something good, he wanted to give something back, to make a difference instead of just causing destruction wherever he went.

He wanted to find a reason to live.

"I tell you what William, when you figure it out let me know." Liam said before grabbing his trench coat and slamming the door behind him.

The slamming of the door reverberated through Spike's head. Once the blinding pain receded to a dull throbbing, he pulled a cashmere throw from the back of the sofa and curled up into a fetal position and remained there throughout the rest of the day until the next morning.

The following day was more of the same, except he moved his pity party to his bed.

Two bottles of white wine, six hours of Passions, three porn dvds and half a bottle of lube later, he finally passed out into a deep sleep.

When the blare of his alarm clock woke him on Monday he decided it was time to get up and get his shit together.

After his desperately needed shower, he realized that he hadn't eaten a thing since Thursday.

No wonder he felt like death. It couldn't have anything to do with with all of the alcohol that he had consumed in the previous three days.

Once he was dressed in his favorite, perfectly cut navy blue Gucci suit, accompanied by a powder blue shirt complete with french cuffs and his lucky blue and silver tie, he decided that it was time to face the music and to face Liam, and express some gratitude for his rescue on Friday night.

He still wasn't sure what he wanted to do yet, but he owed the man at least some sort of explanation.

Liam was a right git most of the time, but he was family. He was his late girlfriend's cousin after all.

He decided that before facing the wrath of Liam Angelus for bailing on him in his time of need, he needed some comfort food and none was as comforting as the greasy hangover fare served up at Lou's cafe.

Lou's was a twenty four hour greasy spoon diner that had seen him through more than one rough night.

It was on the worst side of town, a hole in the wall dive, that Spike was pretty sure a health inspector had never once visited.

But damn could they make an omelet. The house specialty was a three egg omelet with bacon, ham, hashbrown potatoes, cheese, onions, peppers and some blazing hot chili.

Add to that an order of toast and a gallon of coffee that was so strong it could practically get up and walk on its' own accord and in no time at all he would feel more like himself.

Lou's had nicknamed the meal the Spike's hangover special.

As he sat and waited on his food to be delivered, Spike began people watching through the greasy windows.

The area was pretty much known as skid row, and for the most part with the exception of William, the area primarily catered to the homeless, the prostitutes, the wino's with the occasional meth head thrown into the mix.

There was a homeless shelter down the block that was currently overflowing due to the coldest winter on record having just hit Los Angeles.

Spike continued to watch after his meal was delivered, his attention held captive by the panhandlers on the street begging for a helping hand.

They were aware that their efforts were futile as nobody in this neighborhood had a dime to spare.

Spike's waitress Nancy walked over to his table to freshen up his coffee, when he asked her "What the sodding hell are they all doing outside?" "It's as cold as a nuns' quim out there."

"They're hoping to get some food." She answered, "shelter's running out and having to turn them away."

"We'll take them some egg sandwiches and some coffee in a bit." "We can't do much but we do what we can." Nancy told him

Spike was beginning to get an idea, but he needed to work out a few logistics first.

After he finished his meal, he went to pay his check, handing his card to Nancy he told her to charge five hundred dollars to it, "Take them something extra, today."

Meanwhile in an office of the twenty fourth floor of a sparkling glass and chrome building, that geographically was only about three miles but otherwise a world away from the filthy streets of skid row, Liam was pondering just what to do about Williams' sudden case of the blues.

It wasn't like William to just walk away, to just give up.

He met William when he was a junior at Stanford. They were both business majors.

He was introduced to him by way of a horrible hazing prank gone wrong.

William was on his way to class when he heard a commotion outside of one of the brightly painted houses that were so common on the street called Fraternity row.

He saw four members of the football team holding a small guys' head over a bucket of water.

He was wearing only boxers and two of the hulking jocks were taking turns smacking his ass with a thick wooden paddle, after each whack of the paddle the other two would dunk the boys head in the water until he was gasping for breath.

William couldn't stand by and do nothing, they were going to kill the kid if he didn't step in.

Despite the fact that there were four of the jocks outside and probably more inside the house, and the fact that William wasn't much larger than the victim of their torture he dropped his book bag, and went to introduce himself to the bullies by way of his fists.

Liam had caught the tail end of the scuffle as he lived in the house next door to the jocks.

He hated them with a passion; They were nothing but a bunch of troublemakers, throwing parties in which the cops always made at least one appearance, leaving trash scattered throughout not only their lawn, but the neighboring lawns as well.

Administration typically liked to levy sanctions to all houses for ones' mistakes and he was ready for their charter to be taken away.

He knew that the chances of that happening were slim to none, because the houses members were all star athletes and athletics is where the money was.

So when he noticed William taking on four of the biggest pricks in the house he wanted to get in on the action.

He had to admit he felt a bit of admiration and respect for the kid taking on the four stooges; Obviously what he lacked in stature, he more than made up for in heart, and bravery.

It was then that he noticed the abused pledge, hacking and wheezing, and for a moment there Liam was afraid that the boy was going to cough up a lung.

He didn't feel any real sympathy for the kid, the world was survival of the fittest and if the kid didn't grow some wrinklies in the future he wasn't going to make it.

Liam tossed his books aside and walked calmly to the area of yard that was the arena for the fight; He asked William if he needed any help and then threw his first punch, landing it squarely on asshole number ones' jaw.

"Thanks mate, I had it, but I can't say I don't appreciate the help."

Together William and Liam made quick work of the remaining assholes.

They both decided that after all of that exertion that instead of class what they really needed was a drink. They headed to the most popular bar near the campus and the rest became history.

It was bothering Liam more than he wanted to admit that best friend seemed to be checking out of life.

His friend was a fighter, as tenacious as a bull dog with a bone and didn't know the meaning of the word quit.

It also bothered Liam that he was in fact partly to blame for his friends misery.

He knew that he should have never introduced William to his cousin Drusilla and furthermore, when he realized that their relationship was becoming more than a fling based on an intense physical attraction and a longing for England, it had been his responsibility to let William in on the big family secret and tell him exactly what he was signing himself up for by becoming involved with the girl.

Liam hated living with guilt.

It was his responsibility to help his friend get back into the game.