Breaking the Cycle

NOTES: OK - After nearly 4 months, 1 house move, 1 hospital stay and 1 severe case of writers block... I'm finally done! Sequel to 'What Goes Around' and 'Setting The Scene,' which can be found at http://www.redssoulmates.com/angel_spike/asa_z.html. AU from around BtVS S6 and AtS S3, Spike's living with Angel and the fang gang at the hotel, and Angel is Spike's sire (duh). Also, Cordelia still has her long dark hair - Don't worry, it'll all make sense!

DISCLAIMER: My story but no, I don't own them. If I did, they'd spend more time naked! All owned by a wonderful genius named Joss who should be encouraged to rethink their clothing situation. I get nothing from writing this, apart from a warm fluffy feeling.

DEDICATION: Many, many thanks to Michelle for inspirational chocolate, for extending a helping hand every time I fell into a plot hole and for agreeing to beta a fic that just kept growing - I think I'm done now!

Cordelia burst through the doors of the Angel Investigations offices, shaking off her umbrella and removing her coat disdainfully. LA was in the grip of an unexpected rainy season, and Angel felt as though it had been raining for the last several years - at least...

'Yeah... it's so depressing,' Angel replied, morosely. 'The world looks so dark and dull... like the rain's washed away all the color and vibrancy from life...'

It had been three weeks since Spike had arrived in LA. Three weeks since his childe had torn through his life like a whirlwind, leaving only devastation and chaos in his wake... and Angel was loving every minute of it!

Not that the situation had been without its difficulties, the rest of the team had had a pretty hard time accepting that Spike was at the hotel to stay. Relationships were horribly tense for the first few days, until one of Cordelia's more powerfully blinding visions struck when everyone else was out of the office...

After a brief and fruitless follow-up on a potential case, Angel had returned to find Cordelia laid out on a couch, with Spike stroking her forehead, feeding her painkillers and confirming details about what she'd seen - a winged demon in the sewers, attacking a girl with long dark hair. Before Angel could get his head round what was going on, Spike had checked on Cordelia, briefed the others, handed out weapons and mobilized the team. It was all Angel could do not to fall over his own jaw on the way out of the door.

Once they were in LA's sewer system, Spike was able to quickly track the Andras demon from Cordelia's vision. The team engaged it in a pitch battle, but one against five still left them feeling hopelessly outnumbered; the demon seemed to effortlessly deflect their every blow and Angel's muscles ached from just *thinking* about it again...

They had been about to retreat - there was no sign of the girl from Cordy's vision, and none of them were in a hurry to get themselves dead - when the Andras had swept Fred off her feet with one huge claw and began to carry her off, turning its back on the rest of the AI team in a posture of victory.

With an inhuman cry and barely a split seconds thought, Spike had launched himself onto the demon's back, sword first, and plunged the weapon deep into its heart. A fountain of thick demon blood covered Spike as the Andras thrashed wildly. Finally it slumped to the ground, covering Fred with its corpse, who had to be dragged out from under it.

Angel was convinced that they would lose her again, that she would retreat into her room and never come out. Instead, she ran up to Spike and threw her arms around his neck, green slime and all, and from that moment, she'd worshipped the ground he walked on. Spike had pretended to take it all in his stride, but Angel thought that he was secretly quite proud. He had found the chink in the collective armour of Angel Investigations - the protection of its female members - and by helping both of them in one night, his unspoken initiation was complete.

Of course, Spike being Spike, this meant that he continued to be as rude an obnoxious to everyone as he had been before, but now he was allowed to get away with it...

It was Wesley who had later pointed out that Cordelia's vision of a girl with long dark hair could actually have been Fred, and if the Powers That Be hadn't sent the vision, then Fred would never have been attacked in the first place. Thankfully, the others accepted this as a glitch in the cosmic system, but Angel saw something more. If the PTB had sent Fred to be attacked, could they have *wanted* Spike to save her...?

Angel sighed deeply, returning to reality. He picked up some case files and shuffled them aimlessly around. He couldn't even fool Cordelia that he was working... He was just contemplating the possibility of disappearing upstairs under the pretext of 'research' when a cool, familiar hand was laid on his shoulder...

Spike had awoken to the sound of silence... quite literally. Reaching across into the empty space next to him, he realized that Angel had got up some time ago. He stretched lazily, gazing up at the ceiling of his new room.

And it *was* his... Angel had insisted on that. Spike smiled to himself, recalling the look on his sire's face when he'd suggested that he sleep in Angel's room... pure terror, closely followed by an array of filthy thoughts... and back to pure terror again. So to placate him, Spike had agreed on a separate room as long as *he* was allowed to choose it. Angel stupidly agreed, and Spike immediately picked the room next door to Angel's... the one that was the other side of an adjoining door...

Rousing himself from the sheets (crimson silk... bloody ponce), Spike slipped into his customary jeans and t-shirt, and wandered downstairs to see who was about that he could annoy.

Things were just as quiet downstairs. Spike could tell that neither Wes, Gunn or Fred were around, Cordelia was deep in conversation on the phone and Angel was studying some paperwork.

To the casual observer, everyone seemed to be gainfully employed. However, Spike's keen vampiric hearing could pick up that Cordelia was, in fact, regaling a female pal with the highlights of LA's latest designer shoe sale... and while Angel's *eyes* were focused on the paperwork, Spike sensed that his *mind* was focused very much elsewhere...

Silently entering Angel's office and slipping his hands 'round his shoulders, Spike began to purr gently, wondering how long it would take before he had Angel beating a hasty retreat back upstairs.

Spike's money was on ten minutes... fifteen, tops... and if he could manage to get under the desk without the Cheerleader catching him, he reckoned that he could probably get it down to under three...!

'Yeah, well...' Spike replied lazily, 'I thought you might be able to use some extra muscle... I hear that the queue at Neiman Marcus for the latest Manolo Blahnicks was nothing short of bloodshed...' he raised one eyebrow in Cordelia's direction, making it quite clear that he'd overheard her little exchange on the phone.

'Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you'd found a miracle cure for your tragic inability to senselessly maim and kill?' her voice oozed sarcasm, but a small smile played at her lips.

'That's better - Look out! Here comes the Big Bad, ready to turn you into a yummy snack!' Spike yelled as he chased after Cordelia. 'Probably the kind I can eat between meals, without ruining my appetite...' he added sadly, observing her sender frame.

Spike sighed deeply as he looked across to his sire and saw him steadfastly refusing to acknowledge his childe and his employee behaving in such an immature manner. He contemplated Angel's complete inability to loosen up for a nano-second, then shrugged and turned back to the delicious morsel in front of him.

With that, he dipped Cordelia back into a swoon while she struggled pathetically, laughing too much for anything more effectual. Spike decided to game-face for added authenticity and was just preparing to do something that would really gross her out - like licking her neck, when he was momentarily distracted by a crossbow bolt...

The sound of the crossbow being fired brought Angel abruptly out of his 'concerted ignoring' and straight into 'panic mode.' His gaze flew across the lobby to where Gunn was pointing the weapon fiercely at Spike, who was in full game face.

The first bolt was either a warning shot or a near miss, but it didn't look to Angel as though Gunn intended to miss a second time, he was already re-loading...

'No! Stop!' Cordelia screamed, extricating herself from Spike's arms, as Angel cleared the desk in a single bound, ready to rip Gunn into tiny fun-sized pieces. 'I'm OK, really! See, no bite marks...' she bared her neck in Gunn's direction.

'Yeah, sorry 'bout that,' Spike chipped in sheepishly, wearing his non-threatening face once again. 'We were just mucking about... Can see how you could of been confused tho.'..'

'Yeah... well... next time you feel like blowin' off some steam, do somethin' that's less likely to end with Cordy vacuuming you outta the rug. OK?' Gunn unloaded the crossbow and assumed a less confrontational stance.

Angel watched as they both nodded like naughty children, before he realized that every muscle in his body was still tensed for attack. He willed himself to relax and tried to saunter nonchalantly back to his desk... like he hadn't just legged it over furniture just to save Spike from getting staked...

'You got it mister!' Cordy declaimed, 'Strictly adult pastimes from now on. No more childish fooling around. 'Cause we wouldn't want anything to happen to a certain blonde childe, now would we...?'

Hearing a hastily smothered chuckle from Spike, Angel paused briefly, knowing that Cordelia's last remark had been aimed at him. Refusing to rise to the bait, he returned to his paperwork, treating himself to some of his favorite fantasies along the way... the ones where Cordelia's voice gets stolen by some mystical power and it takes them at least a week to get it back...

Wesley and Fred came in at that moment, and thankfully, the discussion turned away from Angel's athletic abilities and back to work. Wes and Cordelia began to do some research on the computer, while Fred and Gunn took a few minutes to chat awkwardly and blush a lot, over coffee and doughnuts.

Just do it, already, Angel thought to irritably to himself... closely followed by the realization that if he was thinking in phrases like that, then he'd been in America *way* too long. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Spike slowly sideling his way up to the desk. Time for a few more ground rules...

'Spike,' he began, 'I realize now that your sole purpose in this world is to make my eternity a living nightmare, but even you and your one brain cell should be able to figure out that games that involve snacking on the staff will get you dusted, even if you're just...'

The tirade was cut short when Spike leaned over the desk and pressed his lips firmly to Angel's own. Angel grabbed him and quickly shoved him backwards, checking frantically to see if any of the others had been watching. They hadn't, but he knew that his planned lecture was now officially over... and Spike knew it too...

It was then, after the fright of seeing Spike on the receiving end of a crossbow, that Angel realized what he really wanted to do... and it wasn't to lecture him. Getting up from his desk, he grabbed Spike's wrists and pressed him firmly against the wall.

'I'm going out to the lobby to get a book, and then I'm going upstairs,' he stated calmly 'and when I get there, I expect to find you naked. If I don't, you will be in more trouble than your body can possibly handle. Am I making myself clear?'

Spike watched Angel leave the office, casual as you please, before he let out the breath he was barely aware of holding in. Every nerve in his body was tingling in anticipation, but he wasn't ready to turn tail and obey Angelus's commands just yet. He knew that Angel would have to make his excuses to the others, and that, Spike thought, could be worth seeing.

Carefully composing himself and trying not to look too much like he'd had a run in with his sire's alter ego, he followed Angel into the lobby. To be on the safe side, Spike retreated quickly up the stairs, but hovered at the top to observe the proceedings from a safe distance.

Although unnoticed by Angel, the fact that Cordelia was stamping on Wesley's foot and trying to hid her smiles in a book on Mayan resurrection rituals, was not lost on Spike.

At this point, Gunn had a hysterical coughing fit and had to be helped to a seat by Fred, who seemed to be suffering from the same affliction. Spike was too busy trying to keep his own insides from falling out, to admire their self-control at this point.

Still crouching, Spike regarded the rest of the team as they all tried to look extremely busy with other tasks and not catch Angel's eye. In a complex process of elimination involving the nodding of heads and the rolling of eyes, he observed Wesley being chosen as the one to break the silence.

'Er... I think what Cordelia means is... er... that perhaps you should... er...' Wesley cleared his throat and began to clean his glasses. 'What I mean is... er... if you...'

'If you'd really wanted to keep yours and Spikes 'extra-curricular activities' just between the two of you, then you should have invested in soundproofing... about two weeks ago!' finished Cordelia in exasperation.

Totally immersed in the little scene that was unfolding below him, Spike's jaw almost hit the carpet at that revelation. His eyes were uncontrollably drawn towards Angel. God! It was like watching a car crash... Spike didn't know that it was possible for a vampire to blush *that* deeply.

Swallowing the urge to laugh himself senseless, Spike bolted along the corridor to the bedroom as fast as inhumanly possible. Angelus was approaching - and he was gonna be *really* pissed...

Angel concentrated hard on climbing the stairs. He looked concertedly at every riser, taking in the deep color of the carpet and the shiny brass fittings. He thought a lot about the feel of the smooth, cool banister beneath his fingers, and the soft 'shushing' of the pile beneath his feet.

What he most definitely did *not* think about was what had just happened downstairs. And certainly not about his employees suggestion of soundproofing to shut out the noise of his varied and interesting sex life... that they knew all about... in glorious Technicolor... No! Back to the stairs, think about the stairs... think about...

Spike! Who had watched Angel's complete humiliation - and laughed! Yes, let's not forget the laughing. He'd better not be thinking that he'd got away with *that*. In fact, the more Angel thought about it, the more he remembered ordering Spike straight upstairs, with no mention of 'feel-free-to-hang-about-on-the-landing-and-watch-me-die- of-embarrassment'!

Hmm... a disobedient childe. Angel licked his lips at that thought. Reaching the bedroom door, he gave one final thought to the fact that Cordelia and Co would probably be listening before deciding that, right now, he really couldn't get any more embarrassed and therefore couldn't give a crap. Softly turning the handle, he stepped inside.

The room was dimly lit by the slowly fading daylight that still seeped through the drapes. Apparently true to his word, Spike was sprawled across the center of the large bed, completely naked. But Angel knew that he'd just thrown himself there, seconds before the door had opened. Spike's eyes met Angel's own, and Angel could easily read the tiny element of fear that he saw in them. He knew that he'd disobeyed Angelus...

Slowly, Angel wandered over to the naked body, his gaze lingering over its delicious tautness. He allowed Spike to watch as he stripped off his own clothes, until he too was naked, and ready to deal with his childe in time honored vampiric fashion - ready to fuck him until he was begging for forgiveness.

Obediently, Spike turned his head away from Angel and lay face down across the sheets. The sight of his childe's muscular back and magnificent pale ass made Angel even harder than he was already.

'If you recall, I told you to get upstairs and get naked. I don't recall telling you to eavesdrop from the landing.' Angel was now kneeling on the bed behind Spike, his hands resting on his childe's slim hips. 'If your sire expressly telling you to do something is not enough of an incentive to do it, then perhaps we need to find something that is... something along the lines of this...'

Without warning, Angel thrust forward hard, straight into Spike's ass. He screamed loud enough for them to hear in Sunnydale, much less on the floor below. The smell of fresh blood aroused Angelus even further...

He set a punishing pace, holding Spike down as he drove into him. Gods, but he was tight! Angel moaned out loud in his own ecstasy, dimly aware of his childe's screams that were being stifled into the sheets.

Feeling his climax approaching so soon, Angel slowed, switching to long, slow strokes, pulling out almost completely before sliding slowly back in. Spike's cries of pain began to turn to moans of pleasure.

He sensed Spike matching his own rhythm as the pace increased and they both roared towards their collective orgasm. The sounds of their passion blurred together, one vampire's pain indistinguishable from another's pleasure. Somewhere, Angel could hear his name being cried over and over again...

He swore in his ecstasy, coming deep inside Spike again and again, before he finally collapsed on top of the blonde vampire, blanketing the smaller frame with his own sated body...

Right now, with the reassuring weight of his sire pressing against him and his arms wrapped gently around him, he did feel loved... So why didn't he feel like that when Angelus was tearing into him? Where was Angel's love then, 'cause the only thing Spike had felt was pain?

He sighed, and the movement caused Angel to shift. Rolling away from his sire, he watched Angel pull himself up to sitting and reach towards the pile of discarded clothes.

'You really gonna go down and face them?' Spike asked, not sure that even *he* wanted to see the rest of the team after the performance the two of them had just put on.

Spike rolled onto his back, pulling the soft sheets around his body as he stared up at the ceiling, hearing Angel's words over and over again in his head. Angel *did* love him; he knew it, just as certainly as he knew his own name... and that he loved Angel too.

Dammit! It wasn't supposed to be like this. He'd found his beloved sire again. After a century apart, they'd been reunited by their infatuation with a tiny blonde girl and now they had each other. Now they'd escaped Sunnyhell and come to LA, they were supposed to be spending their days fighting evil and their nights shagging like bunnies...

And in less than a month, they had done just that. But Spike had spent the last two weeks trying to ignore the fact that their new relationship involved a lot less give and a lot more take, on Angel's part, than he'd ever anticipated.

He'd spent almost twenty years with Angelus, fucking and fighting, before the gypsy curse had taken his sire away. Now, over a hundred years later, Spike had changed too and he wanted to be with the souled version of his sire... he wanted Angel.

Problem was, he wanted Angel in bed too, but that hadn't ever happened. Sure, it was Angel who whispered softly in Spike's ear, telling him how much he wanted to fuck him, and it was Angel who held him tight and kissed him gently afterwards, telling him how much he loved him.

Wearily, he climbed out from under the sheets, wincing slightly at the dull pain that still throbbed between his legs, and began dressing. He shrugged on his duster and pulled it 'round him, as though it formed a protective layer.

He briefly considered telling the others where he was going, but decided that this was something that they didn't need to get involved in. God knows, they'd been involved in everything else he and Angel had done so far, whether they liked it or not. The least he could do was spare them another scene.

Angel swung the blade of his sword in an arc above his head. The Belphegor demon ducked down to miss the sweeping weapon, only to be caught a glancing blow on its return path. It growled, low and menacing, as it launched another attack at Angel. The vampire kicked out at it, blocking its swing and knocking it to the tunnel floor. Before the demon could gain sufficient purchase on the damp brick to get to its feet, Angel was upon it, driving down hard with his sword and piercing its internal organs. The Belphegor gurgled and died...

Turning at a small sound in the distance, Angel sensed that he wasn't alone. He tensed his grip on the sword, poised for attack when a familiar scent reached him. Cigarette smoke, leather, blood and something uniquely... Spike.

The blonde vampire stepped out of the shadows, the half-light casting his cheekbones into stark relief. Damn, he looked good! And smelled good too... Angel's demon was still high from the kill, and what better way to come down than a good old-fashioned fuck? What was it they said about sex and death? Not that Angel cared right now, his only concern was the growing tightness in his pants, and he knew just what to do about that.

Angel stepped towards Spike who, for some reason, was moving slowly away from him. He continued to follow, until he had Spike backed up against the wall, with nowhere else to run to...

'Now then, my boy, you've witnessed some of my finest work... Hell, you *are* some of my finest work!' Angel pushed himself roughly against the blonde, indicating *exactly* what he meant by 'finest work.'

He crushed his lips to Spike's, devouring every inch of his childe's sensuous pout and ravaging his mouth with his tongue. Spike moaned softly, and Angel felt his inner leash snap. He reached for the buckle to Spike's jeans, intent on taking him there and then against the wall.

He grabbed Spike's arms and pinned them hard above his head with one large hand, the other hand pulling roughly at the denim that encased his childe's fuckable ass. As Spike began to struggle, Angelus slammed him back against the stone, releasing his arms and pushing his jeans over his hips. He grabbed both of Spike's shoulders, ready to spin him 'round to face the wall...

Surprise smacked him hard across the jaw. Well, to be precise, Spike's fist smacked him hard across the jaw, but surprise was somewhere in there too. Angel stepped back and looked at the younger vampire, who was fastening his jeans.

He'd hoped to find him wandering the tunnels alone, where they could have talked, away from the others, where Spike could have made him understand. Instead, he'd found him on a post-kill high, and ready to exercise his rights as a sire over his childe... again.

And this time, Spike couldn't take it. Something inside of him had cracked, because this time, Spike was actually afraid... of Angel... of Angelus... because he'd known...

Sure, there'd been many times, both past and present, when Angelus was the hunter and Spike was the hunted. When the thrill of the chase had left them both hard and desperate for release, and Spike had found himself being held down when he would have given himself more than willingly.

Spike found himself at a familiar turning, and realized that he'd made it back to the hotel. In the tunnel behind him, he could hear Angel calling out his name. Quickly he climbed the ladder to the access hatch and slipped inside.

Back in the Hyperion's lobby, things were thankfully quiet. Spike stood in its calm tranquility, and suddenly all the fight went out of him. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he crumpled in a heap as the tears filled his sapphire blue eyes and spilled over his cheeks.

He was dimly aware of Cordelia and Fred at his side, stroking his hands and speaking to him in soothing tones, although he had no idea what they said. He barely registered the strong hands of his sire lifting him to his feet and guiding him gently upstairs.

Spike's brain seemed to have decided to take a holiday from Spike's body, so, having nothing better to do, Spike decided to go with it. He wasn't sure where he was, but he liked it a lot. Dru was there, smiling at him. She looked as pretty as his dark princess ever had. Pale skinned and raven haired, he went towards her, wanting to take her into his arms, to hold her delicate frame once again. But she stepped away from him.

'You have to go now, Daddy's waiting for you... He's waiting for the singing to make everything happy again... and Miss Edith shall be terribly upset if she doesn't get cakes for her tea...' Dru turned away and wandered slowly into the darkness, singing to herself softly as she went.

Bloody typical, thought Spike. My consciousness takes a road trip into another realm, and all I get is a mad vampiress as a spirit guide. Nice to see that the silly bint's still making as much sense as ever.

With a sudden gasp, Angel looked up at his childe. Meeting the cool blue gaze with his deep brown one, he leapt up and threw his arms around Spike, hugging him tightly and stroking his hair.

'What happened back there?' Angel whispered, kissing Spike's ear and pulling his body closer. 'I thought you'd been attacked by something in the sewers. You zoned out on us for a while there...' He continued to nuzzle and stroke his childe.

Spike cut him off. 'It's not *you*, Angel... it's never *you*...' Angel opened his mouth to speak again, but Spike went on anyway. 'Sure, you talk to me, you kiss me, you hold me, but in the end, it's never you... not really.'

His rage held sarcasm too, and Angel fought hard against his body's natural instincts, which were telling him to run, to just get the hell out of there. 'Cause he knew that he didn't want to hear what Spike had to say. And yet he knew that he had to...

'Didn't say it?' his voice was louder this time, more forceful. 'No, I didn't. Not the actual *word*... but every part of my body and my brain was screaming 'NO' at you, Angel. And you should have heard it... you should have heard it...'

They sat in silence again, still side by side on Angel's bed, as Spike's words began to sink in. OK, he thought, so I might have got a bit carried away, but we're *vampires* for God sake, it's what we do. He tentatively reached out a hand towards Spike and laid it gently across his thigh.

'I'm so sorry, Spike, really I am. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm still trying to find a way through this... this... what we have.' Under the penetrating gaze of his childe, Angel found himself rambling. 'I mean, it's different for you. I've only ever... I mean, there's only been you, and I never know how this is supposed to work. But you're more experienced in... well... you know, you've done this before.'

'You said... In China, when I came back to you after getting my... you said that you didn't need me any longer, that you'd found another... you said... I thought you'd been with...' Angel trailed off again. Spike seemed so strange and distant, he wasn't sure they were even arguing about the same thing any more. Something about saying no...

Suddenly, Spike stood up. His voice was so precise and measured, it was impossible to read. 'Yeah, that's right mate. I've done this plenty of times before now, and with better lays than you. Guess I should be used being taken whenever someone fancies it, shouldn't I? Guess it's just me being stupid... Forget I mentioned it.'

It was almost twenty-four hours since he'd walked out on Angel, completely unable to deal with his sire and his twisted logic. Twenty- four hours of solitude, and torturous thoughts, and tears, and anger.

He'd walked out of Angel's room, out of Angel's hotel and almost out of Angel's life. Wandering the back alleys and dark streets of LA, Spike's mind had shut down. He hadn't wanted to think about the last few hours, or to think at all. Instead, he'd walked and walked, moving aimlessly from district to district, until a subtle change in the darkness told him that the sun was approaching... Until he had nowhere else to go, but back to the hotel.

Spike had crept through the front doors just before first light, and disappeared into his room. Then he'd locked all the doors behind him and lay down on the bed. Which was pretty much where he'd been ever since.

A few times one of the girls had tapped gently at the door, trying to persuade him to come out, or at least to eat something. And he'd heard Angel in the next room, listening at the adjoining door, sometimes calling softly to him.

Finally, he sensed that his sire had left the hotel, that Wesley and Gunn had gone home for the evening and that Cordelia and Fred had gone up to rooms on the next floor. At first Spike was surprised that Cordelia hadn't left too, until he remembered that she was having her apartment re-decorated and had moved into the Hyperion a few days ago, leaving Phantom Dennis to supervise the work.

The sounds of girlie laughter and rock music had been drifting down to him for a while. Then, Spike decided, a favorite song must have come on 'cause the volume was cranked up another notch. Then the sounds of energetic dancing started above his head, followed by more screams of delight.

Spike swung his legs over the side of his bed and marched over to the door. He hesitated for a fraction of a second before unlocking it, listening to any sounds that might indicate that Angel had returned. Satisfied that he was the only male left in the hotel, he opened his door and followed the sounds of a party in full swing up to the next floor.

A sharp rap on the wooden door brought Cordelia's face out into the corridor. At least, Spike *thought* it was Cordelia's face, it was difficult to tell under the layer of green goo. Fred appeared behind her, coated in a similar way. He decided that they were either metamorphosing into Ar'lohn demons or he was actually interrupting one of those 'female-bonding-and-face-pack' nights.

'Spike!' she cried, affectionately. 'You're up... I mean, out... I mean... whatever. It's great to see you looking so...' she trailed off as she took in Spike's 'slept-in' look. 'Were we disturbing you? I'm sorry, I guess we were getting a bit carried away with the whole party atmosphere...'

Spike still hadn't said anything, but glancing in through the open door, he saw a half empty bottle of wine and a variety of CDs, cosmetics and clothes spread over the large double bed. Yep... definitely one of those 'female-bonding-and-face-pack' nights.

'Oh, yeah. We thought we'd make the most of having the place to ourselves, y'know? Have a drink, do some serious pampering. If you wanted to...' But as Cordelia turned back to the open doorway to finish her sentence, Spike was already gone.

As she closed the door again, vampire hearing still picked up 'Jees! I wish they'd just sort their crap out, 'cause this brooding in stereo is really starting to get on my fuc...' before the music was turned up, cutting off the rest of her sentence.

The sounds of the jukebox drowned out all possibility of conversation, which was just fine by Angel. He sat at the bar in one of LA's less salubrious districts and ordered another shot or twelve of whiskey... It wasn't Irish... It wasn't even good, but he really didn't care as long as it did the job.

Which was to make him forget the last twenty-four hours. To forget the argument with Spike. To forget the eternity he'd spent crouched up against his side of the adjoining door, listening to his childe's restless movements. To forget the number of times he'd called Spike's name, only to get no reply. To forget...

OK... Clearly alcohol wasn't the way forward. He sighed deeply and turned to his left, meeting the gaze of the young woman who sat on the adjacent stool. She smiled a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and raised her own glass in his direction. She had quite a collection racked up in front of her, someone else who was clearly making a night of it... possibly a lifetime.

'Thought so... y'got that look. Women'll screw you up big time y'know... not as much as guys though... Nope, guys are the worst. 'Cos they don't listen y'see... they never listen. Not to what really matters. They think they do, they think they get it... but they don't.' She lifted her glass to her lips and drained its contents before setting it, slightly unsteadily, back on the bar and signaling for a refill.

Angel didn't feel that his participation was necessarily required in this part of the conversation, so he listened politely and went back to trying to get drunk off his ass.

'Guys build up this persona y'know, that they think we don't know 'bout. It keeps 'em from getting involved, being vulnerable. But we do know... we c'n see through it. So a guy thinks it's this *persona* you're in love with, when all we want's the guy underneath... tha's the one we really love... and the one y'can never quite get to...'

Deep in the recesses of Angel's whiskey-fogged brain, something stirred. It felt like an icy mountain stream... trickling, trickling, slowly, slowly... her words were collecting in a pool, taking on depth. Maybe, just maybe, this woman could have the answers to his questions...

But his mind continued to fight, throwing off its alcoholic haze and struggling to function... Spike... love... personas... hiding... deception... vulnerable... lies... Angelus... sire... childe... Oh fuck...!

Filling with an intense shame at the realization that he hadn't exactly been the sharpest vampire in the box over the last couple of weeks, Angel slid quickly off the bar stool and headed for the door.

Once again, Spike stood in front of Cordelia and Fred's door, waiting for an answer. On the third knock, the volume on the stereo was lowered and Spike could hear Fred's voice...

Spike ginned broadly at the two women as he swept in through the door and deposited his contributions on the bed. All his nail polishes (two black, one purple, one green), some eyeliner, hair dye (from when he put streaks through the blonde), a pack of cigarettes, a bottle of Jack Daniels and some of his sire's poofy hair gel he'd found lying around in the bathroom ('serves him right if it's the expensive stuff' he'd said as he swiped it).

Fred collapsed into fits of giggles. Spike merely reached for the bottle of Jack, twisted off the top and took a deep swig. Handing the bottle to Fred, he fixed Cordy with his best glare and threw down the gauntlet:

From that point on, Spike's evening took a bizarre and strangely enjoyable turn. The three of them laughed and drank, danced and sang, primped and preened. And for the first time in a good few days, he started to relax and stop brooding about Angel. In fact, he'd almost forgotten Angel altogether...

Spike was having his nails done, but with Fred doing one hand and Cordy doing the other, he didn't have a free hand to drink or smoke with, which he was finding extremely frustrating. But he had to admit, they looked a lot better than when he did them. After decades of practice, he'd still only mastered the basic one-shade. Currently, his nails were deep black and in the process of getting intricate red and silver designs on them.

'Hey! Don't mess with perfection love!' Spike exclaimed, waving his hand at her in a slightly drunken fashion, causing Fred to smudge the nail she was finishing and use an extremely un-ladylike word!

She scooped out a generous amount onto her palms and started working it through Spike's usually slicked-back hair. It'd grown a bit longer recently and he'd not gotten around to getting it cut yet,

'Watch it, you! The Big Bad does *not* have curls...' he grabbed the bottle from her and took a couple of gulps, trying not to laugh at her shocked expression. Fred was still never quite sure when Spike was joking with her.

He sighed and closed his eyes as Cordelia continued to work the gel. Long, gentle fingers massaged his scalp and he relaxed into her touch. Damn, that felt good... a familiar stirring began in his jeans. That was *not* good...

'Don't push your luck! Now, we just need a few finishing touches...' She reached for his black eyeliner and set about defining his blue eyes. Then a touch of mascara on his long, thick lashes, a sweep of highlighter on his already well defined cheekbones and a hint of berry-red on his full pout.

He wasn't even aware that she'd finished until Fred breathed 'Wow...! You look *so* good!' For the first time in years, he found himself wishing that he had a reflection.

'*Do* us?' Cordelia asked, questioningly. For a fraction of a second, Spike could have *sworn* that she glanced fleetingly at the crotch of his jeans with that remark. He shook his head quickly and tried again.

'I'll do it, ' Fred ventured, blushing madly. Cordelia smiled, as though she suspected that she was seeing the beginnings of a tiny crush on a certain blonde vampire.

Cursing himself for the thousandth time for not making the connection sooner, Angel continued his brisk walk back to the Hyperion. He hadn't realized that he'd made it so far across LA, and he'd left without his cell phone, so calling Wesley or Gunn to pick him up wasn't an option.

And he was more than prepared to humiliate himself by doing that right now. His only concern was getting back to the hotel and his beloved childe... to make things right... to apologize... to ask for another chance... to beg, if necessary. Angel's still heart ached at the thought of the damage he'd done. He only hoped it wasn't too late, and at that thought he quickened his pace once again.

Angel turned down a back alley, intending to take a short cut through the industrial district, when his keen hearing picked up the sound of feet landing lightly on the ground behind him. Hoping it was just a really big cat, he kept walking.

'Hey!' came the voice again, when Angel kept walking. 'You'd do well to stop right there and turn the hell around mister, you've *no* idea what you're dealing with.'

'Jees! Is it my imagination or do they *just* not make vampires like they used to?' Angel was now advancing towards the exceedingly confused demon. 'I mean, in my day, a confrontation like this used to really mean something. A dark night on the wrong side of town... an evil vampire facing off his terrified, trembling prey... a timeless classic, y'know? But this? This is pathetic... or were you planning on boring me into a coma?'

Angel was about to turn and leave, thinking he'd made his point, when the vampire launched a surprise attack at him. If he'd been correctly prepared, it would have been one of the easiest dusts in history. The vamp came hurtling towards him and would have run himself through quite neatly onto a well placed stake.

But Angel hadn't packed for the hunt, so he had no choice but to fight back. He deflected the charge with a swift kick that sent his attacker into a pile of crates at the side of the alley. Not content to leave it at that, the vamp was soon back on his feet and throwing punches at Angel. He caught him with a right hook and Angel spun backwards onto the ground. The recent rain had left huge puddles of dirty water in the alley, which Angel was now rolling around in as the other vampire used a volley of kicks and punches in an effort to keep him down.

As the filthy water seeped through Angel's clothes and onto his skin, his finally let his demon take over. Slipping into game face, he used his assailant's momentary surprise to throw him off and onto his back. In a flash, Angel ripped a makeshift stake from one of the crates and was on the vampire before he could get to his feet. For a split second, he looked up at Angel as if he couldn't believe this was actually happening...

'They never know who I am...' he mused to himself, attempting to straighten his soaking wet clothes before giving up and turning back down the alley. 'How come *I* can sense another vamp at fifty paces, but I practically have to hand *them* a business card? Gotta get better publicity...'

'Spike!' Fred's voice cut through what felt like the hundredth 'disagreement' since it was Cordelia's turn for a make over. Spike turned and smiled apologetically at Fred...

'Sorry, Love, my fault...' Spike conceded through gritted teeth, 'Cordelia, sweetheart... please could you keep your eyes closed for just a bit longer, unless you want to look like a sodding panda!'

Finally, Spike declared that he was finished. In a lightening fast move, Cordelia snatched up a hand mirror from the bed and prepared to inspect the damage. She'd been banned from watching while he'd done Fred, who'd then sat behind Cordelia, so neither of them had seen each other. She looked like thoughts of 'Coco the Clown' had been running through her head for the last twenty minutes...

Cordelia's sharp intake of breath had pushed even Fred's timid sense of curiosity over the edge, and she too scrambled to take a look. They looked at themselves... then they looked at each other... and then they looked back in the mirror.

'You always look beautiful to me, Pet,' he replied gently, 'really not working miracles here... And what about you, Princess?' Spike turned to face Cordelia, 'Pass the test then?'

Taking in his handiwork, Spike realized that there was more than a passing resemblance between his once beloved raven beauty and the two women who stood in front of him. All three women were tall and slim, with long dark hair and now Cordelia and Fred both had Dru's trademark smoky eyes and deep red lips.

Fred stood in the middle of the room, hugging herself happily as she stared at her two striking companions. 'I think we *all* look fantastic... it's just a shame that no-one else can see how great we look.'

'Yeah, why not?' Cordelia agreed with Spike. 'I think you deserve a night out after everything that's...' she trailed off when she saw the pain fleetingly cross Spike's face. 'Sorry, I didn't mean to...' another unfinished sentence.

''S ok... we'll worry about that tomorrow. Tonight we party!' He prayed that he'd sounded reassuring enough, that the cracks weren't showing. He didn't want to drag anyone else down, so tonight he'd try and have fun without Angel... and tomorrow, he'd try and figure out what else he'd have to do without Angel. Tomorrow...

'Right!' Cordelia cut in, briskly. 'Then we need to get dressed. LA awaits!' she marched over to the wardrobe and began rifling through its contents. Spike smiled - only Cordelia could move her entire wardrobe in for a fortnight stay!

Then an idea struck. He walked over and tapped her politely on the shoulder. 'Er... I think you'll find that the wardrobes you need are on the next floor down. These are mine.'

Without even deigning to reply, she grabbed Fred firmly by the hand, shot him a mock evil grin and disappeared downstairs, dragging Fred helplessly behind her. Spike set to work...

Angel continued his long squelch back to the Hyperion. His clothes were less 'soaked through' and more 'irritatingly damp' by now, which just left the disgusting stench of 'filthy LA rain water' to deal with. He just hoped that it was only *his* acute sense of smell that was majorly offended by the odour.

He was getting closer to home now, and felt his speed picking up once again, at the thought of returning to Spike. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and let his mind conjure up its vivid image of his childe... The heavy, scuffed boots that he couldn't be parted from, his impossibly tight black jeans that hugged his equally tight ass, soft black t-shirt clinging to that finely muscled body, the ever- present black leather duster, as much a part of Spike as smoking and swearing... And finally, his face. The smooth, pale skin, the most stunning cheekbones ever created, and those devastatingly blue eyes, the ones that Angel felt pierce his soul every time they were laid upon him... the same startling blues that he'd last looked into and seen only fear and hurt reflected back at him...

Ten minutes later, the party of three were exchanging piles of clothes. Spike took Cordelia's selection and immediately began to shuck off his black jeans, forgetting (as usual) that he was in mixed company with no underwear on. Fred politely cleared her throat, which caused Cordelia to look up at completely the wrong moment...

'Eewww! Spike! Are there not enough rooms in this hotel that you have to do that here?' she cried, clamping a hand over her eyes. 'As if I don't *already* need therapy...'

'Oops, sorry ladies! Force of habit...' he grinned, buttoning his jeans and retiring to the next room. A few minutes later there was a timid knock on the door and a voice asked, 'Er, is it safe to come in yet?'

Spike gingerly pushed open the bedroom door and stepped inside. He was dressed in just a pair of tight black leather trousers and he had a black top clutched to his naked torso.

'Is there, uh, a problem with the top, Spike?' asked Fred, as he stood in the doorway and stared at her stunning outfit, a deep red velvet dress that clung to her slender frame and set off her pale skin and dark hair to perfection. 'Spike...? Hello...?'

Cordelia sashayed over to where Spike appeared to be glued to the carpet, her swaying hips encased tightly in the long black skirt that Spike had chosen, with her cleavage prominently displayed at the top of the black satin corset it had been teamed with. She held out her hand for the top, offering him a tiny seductive pout. Spike handed it over mutely, his eyes fixed on the gothic beauty in front of him.

As Cordelia guided his limbs into the garment, he felt her gaze lingering over his taut body as he stretched up his arms. Subconsciously, he licked his lips. With his head safely through the neck, she pulled the tight material down over Spike's chest, her fingers brushing against his cool skin. He drew an involuntary breath at the warmth of her touch. Their bodies were barely inches apart as Cordelia smoothed the top down, running her hand lightly across the red and silver dragon that adorned the front. Suddenly, it seemed like a very long time since anyone had spoken...

Spike could feel the heat coming from the closeness of her body. He could see her arousal in the dilated pupils of her deep brown eyes. Chocolate brown... like Angel's... but looking at him in a way that Angel's never did... with tenderness. He knew that what he wanted to do was wrong, but all he wanted was a moment away from the hurt that he still felt inside...Spike lowered his head and touched his lips gently to Cordelia's. She slid her hand from the vampire's chest to the small of his back and returned the kiss, softly at first, then increasing in intensity, their bodies pressed together in a tight embrace, lost in the tender movement of lips and tongues... until the far away sound of a clock chiming the hour brought them back to reality.

'I think you've given me a pretty good idea... better than a reflection any day!' he winked at her, offering up his trademark cheeky grin. 'And you both look bloody gorgeous too, so let's get a move on, I wanna show you off.' He extended an arm to each of the women in turn and proceeded to escort them out of the bedroom.

'Stop!' Spike cut her off. '*Never* tell me where you got a top this tight and leather trousers in my size, 'cause I *know* they don't belong to the poof. Let's just leave it at 'you-look-really-hot' and never speak of this night again, OK?'

Spike and Cordelia shared the briefest of looks, and both smiled at the swift, unspoken agreement to keep something else just between the two of them... As they reached the lobby, they were still laughing and joking together. Cordelia suddenly grabbed Spike's arm as he opened the door.

In a minute or two she was back downstairs and ready to leave. Spike rolled his eyes as she dashed across the lobby, grinning at him, and consequently never noticed the small slip of paper she dropped on the reception desk as she ran past...

'Spike...? SPIKE! Where are you...?' he yelled, sprinting straight up the stairs to the bedrooms. Spike's door was at last unlocked, but the room itself was empty, so he ran up another flight of stairs to check in with Fred and Cordelia.

Their rooms were just as empty, but his vampire senses told him that one room had been the scene of a great deal of activity in the last couple of hours. Actually, he didn't need to be a vampire to know that, he just had to have eyes. The room was strewn with clothes and empty bottles and make up and... Spike! He'd been here; Angel could smell his unique scent all over the room. Now tuned into his childe, he followed the trail into the next room, where he found a pile of Spike's clothes... with the smell of arousal all over them... Angel was rapidly putting two and two together and coming up with twenty-seven!

He ran back downstairs, calling as he went, even though he already knew that the hotel was completely empty. Finally, as he came to a halt in the lobby, his eyes fell upon a piece of paper on the front desk. Angel reached out and carefully unfolded it, his fingers trembling slightly in anticipation. Immediately he recognized Cordelia's rounded hand, which had scrawled one word in black eyeliner on the back of an old subway ticket.

'Fred and Cordelia are coming in tonight and... they have someone with them.' Angel paused for a moment, trying to think of how to word the next part. Before he could continue, the green demon on the other end of the line cut in with a sudden exclamation:

Back at the Hyperion, the telephone swung gently in mid-air, its disembodied voice left talking to an empty hotel as the sounds of a large car roaring down the street could be heard faintly from outside...

Spike let his head thump down onto the bar in exasperation. A green horned demon wearing the world's loudest suit came over to them and greeted Cordy and Fred.

'Well, don't you two look an absolute picture!' he gushed. 'Love the outfits - very 'Princess of Darkness.' So, are you going to introduce me to your handsome Prince?'

Cordelia did the honors. 'Lorne: This is Spike... Spike: Lorne...' As the two demons shook hands, Lorne winced slightly at Spike's touch, and withdrew his hand rather quickly.

'Great to meet you.' Lorne said, brightly. 'Well, time to schmooze with the clientele, you know how it is... *Do* try the Sea Breeze tonight, it's to die for... well, not literally, but you get my meaning! Toodles...!' and then he was gone.

Perched on a bar stool, Spike made himself comfortable. Well, as comfortable as he could be in leather trousers that were as tight as his. He signaled to the barman and ordered drinks for himself and the girls.

Angel cursed LA's traffic system to every hell beast that he could recall, before finally abandoning his convertible in a side street and running the remaining three blocks to Caritas.

As soon as he entered, his eyes began to scan the crowded bar. Suddenly, Lorne was at his side, pressing a large glass of Irish whiskey into his hand. Before Angel could even open his mouth, he said, 'I think the person you're looking for is over there...'

Angel's eyes followed the demon's gesture to the side of the low stage... to where Spike stood. Angel almost choked on oxygen he didn't need and his heart skipped a non-beat.

There stood his childe, looking... No, Angel didn't even have a word for it. He quickly rifled through his mental filing cabinet under 'descriptions-for-Spike,' pulling out words such as 'overwhelming,' 'breathtaking' and 'devastating,' before rejecting them as not even coming *close* to describing what he saw.

Angel was lost in every detail of the stunning vampire in front of him... The way his tight, black leather pants looked under the club's lights, watching how the tight, black top clung softly to each contour of his body, the patterns on his dark nails, how his most beautiful features had been enhanced so subtly - the black rimmed eyes, his razor-sharp cheekbones, lips the color of crushed summer fruits, and his hair... stark blondeness that had been so carefully teased into sculpted peaks. More than anything, Angel wanted to feel those spikes, to brush over them gently before crushing them with hungry fingers as he crushed Spike's lips to his own.

'Guess it's new looks all round tonight,' came Lorne's voice softly from beside him. Angel suddenly remembered his own dirty, rain sodden clothes and instantly regretted not stopping to change at the hotel.

It was then that Spike turned around. His eyes widened as they fixed on his sire. Angel took a step towards him but Lorne stuck out his arm and held him back. An involuntary growl started deep in Angel's chest as he flashed amber eyes at the horned demon.

'All I know is, something's about to happen and the Powers That Be want *you* to see it,' his glance drifted across to the stage as he dropped the barrier between the two vampires 'or possibly *hear* it...'

Angel turned and saw Spike stepping on to the stage. He turned back to Lorne, who was now seated at a nearby table. 'Look, there's something you need to know. Spike... It's complicated... he's not just...'

Spike was momentarily blinded as he stepped into the spotlight. He gripped the microphone stand tightly as he felt his eyes darting wildly around the room, looking for... him. He took a deep, calming breath, closed his eyes and forced himself to look for Angel with the rest of his body.

Spike sighed. He hadn't even planned to sing, when suddenly he'd had a strangely overwhelming urge. He'd picked this song because it had *literally* jumped out at him. It was one that Red's old boyfriend used to play at the Bronze, and Spike had really loved it - not that he'd have admitted it to anyone, but its lyrics really spoke to him. He didn't want to even *think* about how it ever turned up on a Karaoke list in LA, 'cause he got the feeling that he wouldn't like the answer.

Angel was totally blown away by the purity of Spike's voice, the way his childe's penetrating blue eyes seemed to be fixed solely on his own, as though every word was meant for him and him alone. As Angel listened intently to the song's lyrics, he felt as though they'd been written for him and Spike...

Angel felt as though he was having his brain burned from the inside out, such was the passion in Spike's singing... Every breath Spike took seemed to etch the words on Angel's skin, and the air between them appeared to crackle with its intensity...

The power of those last words hit Angel with such force that he wondered for a second if he had physically jolted back in his seat. God... did Spike really mean to tell Angel what he thought he meant... 'never before'... 'I lied'... Angel wanted so much for it to be true. To be able to stop re-playing Spike's last words over and over in his head. To stop feeling their pain. To make everything right again...

As the final note died, Spike stumbled backwards slightly, as though a spell had suddenly been broken, while the club exploded in rapturous applause lead by Lorne. Spike managed a shy half smile before turning and disappearing into the crowd. Angel desperately wanted to follow him, but there was something he had to do first...

'And don't give me any crap about confidentiality. I *don't* have time,' Angel hissed through gritted teeth. 'You read Spike, so you know what he is... what he *means* to me. So I need to know - what did you see in his future?'

'You wanna start making sense anytime soon, Lorne?' Angel could feel his blood running cold, which for a vampire, was really something. Yet the green skinned demon in front of him seemed totally at ease with the earth shattering revelations he kept throwing casually into the conversation.

'OK. Lemme put it another way: I *couldn't* see it. Haven't been able to read a damn thing all night as a matter of fact, which is gonna leave me some serious explaining to do to that Tortoth demon over there. He's got a Cliff Richard medley planned, and God help me if I have to hear *that* one twice...'

'I mean, I literally couldn't. Well, not if I wanted my brain to stay inside my skull and not leak out of my ears.' Lorne turned to face Angel, and looked at him seriously. 'I had to switch off the moment your boy walked into the room. His love for you...? It's deafening... It's screaming from every fibre of his being... And yours for him too... And I didn't need to be anagogic to see that one, Pumpkin. All I needed was eyes...' Lorne sat back in his chair and reached for his ubiquitous Sea Breeze. 'So, when things have, er, calmed down a little, why don't you both come back, give me a duet maybe, and I'll tell you what you two love-vamps have in store. Until then...' He gestured to where Spike was seated with Fred and Cordelia.

Spike knew that Angel was approaching, long before two supportive hands were laid on his arms from either side, but Spike appreciated the gesture nonetheless. Patting them both in what he hoped was a reassuring fashion, he extricated himself from their protective hold and stood to face his sire.

'How could I not, after what you just did? But yes, I understand... I'm so sorry, Spike, and I want to make it up to you... if you'll let me.' Angel lowered his gaze with those words, and the attitude of submission caught Spike off guard.

Lowering his voice to the realms of vampiric hearing, Angel said, 'Well, I know that there's been an imbalance of power in our... in what we do... and I was hoping that we might tip that balance...' He raised one eyebrow in a manner so suggestive, that Spike wanted to drag him straight out of that club and straight into the nearest alley.

But before he could do anything, Angel took a final step forward to bring the two vampires hip-to-hip. He dropped Spike's hands and the blonde found himself wrapped in his sire's strong arms. With a sigh that felt like it had waited a century to be released, he returned the embrace. Angel pressed his mouth to Spike's and the world melted away...

After what felt like an eternity, Spike was dragged out of the most erotic kiss of his unlife by cries of ' Ewww, get a room already!' from Cordelia. Spike could do nothing except grin sheepishly. Angel pulled away, but not *so* far away that it would mean he had to take his hands off Spike.

'OK you two - enough information! Some of us have to sleep tonight, 'interrupted Cordelia. 'Just go and... no, I don't even wanna *think* about it... Just go!' But she couldn't keep up the pretence that she was even remotely annoyed with either of them, as her face broke into a huge grin and Fred looked like she was about to positively burst with happiness.

As they turned to go, Spike mouthed 'thank you' in the girls' direction and dropped them a surreptitious wink. Wrapping their arms around each other, the two vamps headed languidly for the exit.

'You do realize that you've just snogged my face off right in the middle of a well populated demon bar, and that you can never show your face in this town again, don't you?' Spike asked, smirking at his sire.

Sunlight streamed through the doors of Angel Investigations, as the weather in LA took a much appreciated turn for the better. Fred, Gunn, Wesley and Cordelia were all quietly working on various tasks that contributed to the day to day running of the office.

'On second thoughts,' Wesley continued, getting up hurriedly and reaching for his jacket, 'it has been brewed for... oh, twenty minutes at least. I rather think that fresh coffee is a marvelous idea. Fred?'