Watching Over You

There was pain. So very much pain. And screams, hollow and empty - dying cries for help. Noise, things falling over, bones breaking, demons screaming, a flash of sharp teeth, a claw, blood running - and then there was nothing at all.

Gasping for un-needed air, Spike bolted upright in bed, his entire body shaking and trembling, the nightmare still playing in his mind. His body was covered in a fine sheet of sweat, and he dimly noticed that his teeth were chattering slightly. Shaking his head, the blonde vampire blinked away the tears that appeared in the corner of his eye and pulled the sheets around him before standing up and walking out into the living room. Once there, he remained standing in a corner, his eyes drifting over things.

The world hadn't ended, so he assumed Angel had managed to save it. The fact that he'd probably saved it by dying himself was a fact Spike simply refused to confront himself with. He refused to think about it. That didn't mean that he didn't hope his Angel would return, though.

As he had placed the furniture around the apartment, he had at first been surprised to find himself crying, before he'd given into the tears and he'd been sitting on the new couch for hours, snuggling into the soft back and just crying.

Everything smelled of his sire - every chair, every cushion, everything Spike had picked up smelled exactly like Angel, despite all the years they had stayed alone in an empty house in Ireland - and it had hurt. It had caused him to cry again.

Snorting softly to himself, Spike mentally yelled at himself once again as more tears came to his eyes. He cried too much these days. But the nightmare had been so...frightening. He couldn't exactly remember it clearly - he remembered flashes of demons, fighting, fire, thunder, lighting, blood, and he knew there had been pain there. He'd heard hoarse screams and he'd heard the sounds of bones breaking - but he didn't know what it meant.

Kicking the door to the apartment shut with his foot, Spike unfolded the newspaper, a cup of blood in his hand. He'd discovered that one of the more practical things about feeding from blood bags was that he could grab some blood whenever he felt like it, and didn't have to go out to hunt if he was hungry.

Sitting down by the kitchen table, the blonde vampire leafed quickly through the paper. As he spotted something on a certain page, he paused, a stinging pain racing through his entire body and settling in his heart. On the page in front of him, there was a drawing of a brown-haired Angel.

A figure appeared between the trees, walking hurriedly through the forest. When he saw the still figure lying on the ground, he barely glanced at it - then he did a double take and stopped, kneeling down. Turning his head and squinting, he could see the rapidly brightening sky through the trees, signalizing that the sun was about to rise.

"Fuck," Spike gasped out around a half-choked sob. He didn't even know why he bothered to get out of bed, anymore. He didn't have anything to do. He didn't *want* to do anything. All he wanted was to crawl underneath the covers and stay there forever. He wanted the constant ache in his heart to stop. He wanted to go out and kiss the sun.

And he knew very well why - he still had hope that Angel might return to him. Very little hope, but it was still hope. His heart still told him that his sire could be out there and would return to him eventually, despite his depressive brain telling him that he needed to start adjusting to a life without his sire. Spike knew that he probably was just stubborn, but he refused to admit that his sire could be dead. His brain told him it was the truth. His heart told him it was a lie. And he listened to his heart.

Suddenly, Spike spun around, throwing the empty cup he held in his hand across the room. It hit the wall and broke into a thousand pieces, the porcelain hitting the floor with hollow click-clacks.

"Fuck," Spike gasped again, fighting hard to hold back his tears. He was tired of crying, and he was tired of fighting. Glancing out the window he saw that the sun was about to rise, and he quickly debated on whether he should pick up the porcelain now or go to bed.

Pulling the covers up over his head, Spike squeezed his eyes shut and let a few, silent tears escape from his eyes. The bed felt so big, so empty, without his sire by his side, and at that moment it seemed as if he missed Angel more than he'd even done.

Wiping his tears away, Spike closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but it just seemed impossible. And if he did get to sleep, he knew he'd only have another one of those weird nightmares he'd been having lately. They'd started to appear a few weeks ago, and since then he'd been having at least one every night. They were always the same - flashes of blood and death, and hollow screaming echoing in his mind - before he woke up just as it all disappeared.

On the other hand, staying awake wasn't the best option, either, Spike thought miserably to himself. Behind his eyelids, the images of his sire danced, and the last words they exchanged were still etched into his mind, playing over and over again. He knew he'd never forget the tone Angel's voice held as he said he loved him, after Spike's nervous

Sighing deeply, Spike shifted underneath the covers, wishing he'd slept on the couch in the living room, like he did some nights. The bed held too many memories. Of course, there were memories everywhere, but it was the bed that held the strongest of them all; The memory of him and his sire admitting their love for each other.

Cursing himself for being such an emotional sap, Spike growled slightly as tears came to his eyes again. Dimly he thought that he had to have cried more these past months than he had in the entire 260 years of his existence as a vampire.

He wondered where Angel was now - if he was alive at all - and he could only hope and pray that if his sire was alive, he'd make it back to London as fast as possible. But for every night that went by, for every night the blonde fell asleep alone and crying in the bed, the hope gradually faded.

He paused, nodding to the young boy to go somewhere else. The boy nodded and smiled, happy to have the splinter out of his foot, and skipped merrily off. The half-demon, Jacob, watched him go for a few seconds, before turning back again. "Glen?"

"Yes, I do," Glen said, cutting him off. "We have a debt to pay to The Ensouled One, even though we never can repay him enough for what he did for us. Now, I have a way to pay off a little of our debt - it may not be much, but it is something. And it is important. Where does his childe live?"

Jacob fell silent again, pausing for another moment before sighing deeply. "He's here in London. Somewhere on the south-east side of the Thames. I don't know exactly where, but I think it's around the Mayflower area from 2015. Ask around. You'll find him."

Spike was sitting in the backyard, glaring at the stars. He wouldn't call it watching, because he was too angry to find that same peaceful, quiet feeling he did when he was just watching them. Now, he was glaring at them, his blue eyes dark with anger.

Tonight was one of those nights when his sorrow and his tears were replaced with anger and bitterness. Bitter Spike. Not fun to be around. So he stayed at home. Stayed away from people. Well, at least he was staying away from people until there was a knock on his

door. For the briefest of moments, Spike considered to ignore it, but then the thought that it could be Angel hit him, and he was at his feet in a second. On his way back into the apartment, he realized that it couldn't be Angel - of course it couldn't. He'd been gone five months to the day, now, so why would he show up now?

Ignoring the imaginary knife that was being pushed into his heart, Spike glued on a small smile before opening the door, prepared to face yet another salesman who sold something completely idiotic like miniature satellite dishes, "old classical movies from the 90's" or the new world encyclopaedia in 'only' 50 volumes.

Spike narrowed his eyes, his smile disappearing. The short man in front of him didn't smell human at all, and he had called him his real name. It could have been a coincidence, but he wasn't going to take any chances. "Depends," he said. "What do you want?"

Grabbing his duster, Spike followed Mark, prepared for any attacks. But the attack he had expected never came. Instead, they walked out to the pavement, where a van was parked. Mark went over to the back doors and opened them. "You need to take him."

An unmistakable scent hit Spike and his nostrils flared. With two long strides, he was beside Mark and looked into the van. The sight that met him brought tears to his eyes, and his dead heart started to hammer in his chest.

He was paralyzed on the spot. He wanted to throw himself forward, to rush into the van and to make sure his sire was alright, but he couldn't. Every limb, every muscle, every nerve in his body was completely paralyzed, and his mind was wrapped into a thick layer of cotton.

"Well, you see, this one, Angel or whatever, stopped this huge army that flew around huntin' us half-demons. They called themselves The Scourge. So now, half-demons across the entire planet is working to repay our debt to him. So we figured a nice way to start was by saving his life and bringing him back home."

Spike didn't reply. He didn't even acknowledge that he'd heard Mark, as he ran a finger down the side of Angel's face. He saw the many wounds visible on Angel's arms and what little he could see of his upper body, and it made his heart cry out in pain.

"Sure," Spike answered, but made no move to get up. His eyes were still locked on Angel's face. He couldn't believe Angel was back - and alive. Biting his lip, Spike forced back the tears of joy that once again found their way to his eyes.

Carefully sliding one arm underneath the mattress by Angel's upper body, Spike used his other hand to support the older vampire's head, and slowly the two men lifted him up. Carrying him carefully and slightly staggering into the apartment, they placed the mattress on the bed, before slowly sliding Angel onto the bed. Spike immediately sat down next to him, pushing away the torn blankets and starting to carefully place Angel in a comfortable position. Then he stood up and faced Mark, who was still in the room.

"We've checked him out and cleaned his wounds, but I think you'll need to clean him again and bandage some of those cuts. They look pretty nasty, and we're not too experienced with taking care of vampires, so..."

Mark nodded and lifted his hands. "No big deal," he said. Then he paused for a moment. "But I think you should know that we think he's been poisoned by what looks like demon blood or something along those lines, because there's a gash in his left side that was bleeding blue blood."

Spike remained standing in the middle of the room like a statue until he heard the front door slam. Then he slowly turned back to Angel, once again sitting down next to him and running a finger down his face.

"You pillock," he muttered quietly to the unconscious vampire in front of him, his voice quivering slightly as he realized how close he had been to losing his sire forever. Placing a hand on his sire's forehead, he felt the skin practically burning, and he shook his head.

With another sigh he stood up to find bandages. Making a quick sweep through the apartment, Spike found water, bandages, two cloths and some small plastic bags filled with ice, before he returned to the bedroom, sitting down next to Angel and studying his wounds more thoroughly. For every new cut he saw, for every bruise he discovered, he slowly got sicker and sadder. His sire had been dangerously close to death, this time.

Picking up the bags with ice, Spike placed them across the worst bruises and welts, before he took one of the cloths, dipped it in the water and placed it on Angel's forehead. Then he paused to run his fingers across his sire's lips.

The knowledge that he had been so close to losing Angel frightened even his demon to the very core, and he was exceedingly relieved Angel had returned alive. He silently sent his gratitude to the half-demons that had found the older vampire and brought him back, and he couldn't help but wonder if it was now *they* who had a debt to pat to the half-demons of the world - not the other way around anymore.

If Angel had been killed, he didn't know what he'd done. He'd probably either have gone out and faced the sunrise, or just stayed inside the apartment, waiting - night after night - for someone who never came.

Shaking his head, Spike pulled off Angel's pants and continued to clean his wounds and bandage him. It wasn't like that. Angel had returned to him. He was alive. And everything was going to be okay now. He would watch over him and make sure he healed. As soon as Angel was healed, everything would be just fine, and Spike wouldn't have to cry anymore.

A large wound went from his foot and traveled further up to the mid-thigh of his left leg. Around his ankle, the flesh was nearly burned completely away, the edge being nothing more than some black crisp, and some places something burnt out Spike assumed was plain bone was showing.

Shuddering, and trying not to look more than absolutely necessary, Spike dipped the cloth in the water again and went to clean the wound. And all the while, he silently prayed that Angel's leg would heal properly.

After a lot of work, Spike had bandaged Angel and could finally place the remaining bandages, the almost melted ice and the now bloody cloths away, before he carefully lay down on the bed next to Angel, curling up at his side.

The next two days seemed to go by with the speed of a snail. Spike spent them watching over Angel. He changed the bandages when the old ones were either bled out or dirty, and in the night the blonde would drip a few drops of blood down Angel's throat to make sure there was some blood left in him.

Mark stopped by the first night with quite a supply of fresh bandages and blood bags, and he had wished Angel and Spike the best from his entire clan - the Mwawak demons - and Glen's clan - the Chaquat demons. He had also spent several hours at the apartment, keeping Spike company and telling him everything he knew about how Glen had found Angel and so on.

Spike had learned more about the damages Glen and Mark had found on Angel's body, and he'd been told numerous tales about his sire's heroic battle with The Scourge, how bad they really were and how they were finally stopped. For every story, he'd slowly become prouder and prouder. He really wanted the world to know that it was *his* sire, *his* love, who had done that. It was *his* Angel who had saved the lives of so very many half-breeds all over the world.

When Mark finally had to leave, he promised to stop by the apartment in a few days with more blood, knowing that Spike wouldn't want to leave Angel for even a second in case he woke up. And it was a good thing Spike didn't want to.

up. Spike had moved one of Angel's armchairs into the bedroom, and there he would sit most of the time, simply watching over Angel. The only times he got up was when he absolutely needed to move his legs, or when he needed to feed. And even then, he never went further than either to the kitchen or just a small round across the room to keep his legs going. It was while Spike was sleeping in that chair, Angel woke up.

Exhausted and tired after staying awake nearly thirty-six hours in a row, Spike had finally given into the pull of sleep, when he was woken up by a moan. He couldn't have slept very long - six hours at the most, because it was still dark outside - but still, the low moan was enough to wake him up. Blinking and yawning, he stared into the darkened room, first wondering if he was hearing things, but then seeing his sire.

Dark eyes, blank with fever and glittering like diamonds, were peering at him behind almost completely shut eyelids. Angel was looking at him. As he realized Angel was awake, all traces of sleep immediately disappeared from Spike's body.

Angel's voice held so much relief, amazement and so very, very much love, that Spike almost got tears in his eyes again. "Yeah, it's me," he said. Was it really his voice that quivered so much with joy and relief that it almost broke? "You're home. You're gonna be okay."

"Please?" Angel mumbled again, before his eyes fell shut and Spike knew he'd slipped back into unconsciousness. Sighing and giving in, Spike moved slowly and carefully around Angel to the other side of the bed, and as he slipped under the covers, his mind slowly processed the past minutes that just ticked by.

It gave Spike a warm feeling he couldn't describe as anything else but pure love. It squeezed and pulled his heart in all directions in a very pleasant manner, and it made him feel like crying of joy and singing and laughing. And at that moment, he realized that Angel truly loved him as much as he loved Angel.

When Spike woke up again, he immediately noticed two things. The sun hadn't set, yet. And Angel was looking at him. "Angel?" he mumbled, still a bit sleepy, but happy that his sire was awake.

Spike was wide awake in a second, noticing the worry and slight panic written on Angel's face as the sleep left his body. "What do you mean, you can't move your leg?" Spike asked, immediately more than a little

Sitting up and pulling the covers aside, Spike inspected the bandages covering Angel's left leg. The older vampire couldn't see for himself how bad it looked since he was laying down, but a tear trickled down his cheek and he clenched his jaw as Spike carefully moved it a little.

Letting go of Angel's leg, Spike glanced at the ankle and shuddered. He didn't want to see it. He didn't want to be reminded that Angel's flesh was eaten away right down to the bone, and he didn't want to consider the possibility that Angel might never walk again.

Angel just nodded and smiled as Spike lay back next to him, carefully taking his hand and twining their fingers together. They just lay there in silence for several moments before Spike quietly cleared his throat and moved his eyes away from Angel's - but only for a second.

"I missed you," he said, quietly. "Every single day, every minute, every second." His eyes slowly became blank and he forced out a small, bitter smile. "I almost thought you weren't coming back. That you had... That you were..."

Angel gave his childe a small smile as he trailed off, and the dark-haired vampire nodded weakly. "I almost thought I was going to," he said, before lifting his free hand and placing a couple of fingers underneath Spike's chin. "But I didn't. I survived. And I came back."

Spike nodded and returned the smile, before leaning forward and kissing Angel tenderly, finally feeling their lips against each other again. Small, glittering tears started to make their way down the faces of both of them, some disappearing into the kiss and some melting into the pillow underneath their heads.

"Fuck, Angelus, you haven't fed! You gotta be starving! Just hang on, and I'll get you some blood, I'm so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking, I-" He abruptly stopped his rambling to jump to his feet and run our of the room.

When he returned about two minutes later, he was carrying two large containers of blood, heated in the microwave, and he carefully crawled back into the bed. Setting one of the containers at the night stand on his side, he used the now free hand to support Angel's head so he could drink from the container which Spike held to his mouth.

He had to grin when he saw Angel's face shift uncontrollably as the dark-haired vampire fed greedily. When the second container was empty, Spike arched a brow as Angel licked his lips and shifted back into his human face.

"I'm fine," Angel said, before pausing. "Well, to be honest I am kind of hungry, but I don't think it's smart to take it all at once. But can I have some more in...maybe twenty minutes or so?"

Still worried, but deciding to let it drop for now, Spike nodded. "Glen. He's a half-demon of some kind, with a debt to pay to you. So he phoned his friend Mark, and found out where you lived. Then he took you to Mark, who took you to me."

"I'd say it already has," Spike replied, squeezing Angel's hand and meeting his eyes dead on. "If it weren't for them..." He shuttered at the thought, once again sending his gratitude to the half-demons. "That guy that brought you here - Mark - has been really helpful. He said he was going to stop by tonight again, so you should try to get some rest until then, okay?"

"I had dreams," Spike suddenly said. "About you, I think. There were screams and blood...People died...And there were demons and darkness..." He paused and took a deep breath. "They were so real!"

"Yes," Angel said, immediately sensing Spike's feelings. He knew where Spike wanted by telling him about his dreams, and he knew what his childe needed to hear. "Yes, there were screams. And blood. People did die, and there were demons and darkness. But they're not real," Angel said quietly, but firmly, the unspoken part of the dreams floating to him through the bond he had with his childe. "They were dreams. I didn't die. I came

"Then," Angel said, squeezing Spike's hand, "you would have been sad and heartbroken for years. Then you would have left London and gone through one of your 'I-don't-give-a-fuck-about-anything' periods, before you would have returned to London and slowly returned to your normal life. And in between, you would have cried."

As Spike realized Angel had managed to trick him again, he stuck out his tongue at him and shook his head. "Sod it all!" Angel couldn't hold back his laugh, and immediately let go of Spike's hand in order to place both his arms over his side, clutching it in pain as he laughed.

Quickly getting up, he threw the bloody covers aside and gently pried Angel's hands away as the dark-haired vampire's laugh disappeared. The bandage covering the poisoned gash in Angel's side was completely soaked with blood as well, and Spike reached out to the night stand, getting the clean bandages he'd left there the night before.

Angel lost his smile for a second as well, before he reached up and touched Spike's shoulder lightly. "I thought that was my line," he said, before he winced as the wet cloth gently dabbed at the wound.

Angel gave a slight shrug. "I don't know," he replied quietly around a wince, before meeting Spike's eyes. "Maybe I've had a little too much death and darkness lately? Maybe I needed to laugh like that? Maybe I love you so much that the fact that I'm home made me extra happy?"

Spike didn't reply, he only continued to clean Angel's wound and winced in sympathy every time his sire winced. When he was done, he put on a clean bandage and packed away the cloth and the water, before returning to the bedroom, only to find Angel asleep.

He wasn't sure which, but it didn't really matter - he looked the same, and either way he would get some rest. Sighing, Spike sat down on the edge of the bed, watching Angel sleep. Carefully, he pulled the covers up over his sire before a small smile spread across his face.

"So you love me, huh?" he asked quietly. That small sentence had made him so incredible happy that if he had a soul, he was sure to have lost it twice over. "Well, I love you too, Angel," he whispered, before glancing at the watch. Seeing that it was almost sunset, the blonde vampire made sure Angel was covered and comfortable, before he made his way out to the kitchen to feed.

The next time Angel woke up, the clock was close to nine in the evening, and by then his fever seemed to have gone down a little more, and he was feeling well enough to sit up carefully in bed. Even though he insisted that he was fine, the peroxide blonde vampire kept running around the apartment, bringing his sire blood, magazines, newspapers or whatever he wanted, wanting to make sure that the older vampire was fine and comfortable.

"So tell me," Spike said while munching on an apple as he sat next to Angel, both of them leaning back against the pillows which was piled up against the headboard. "How exactly did you manage to stop this thing?"

"A second Hellmouth," Angel corrected, taking another sip of the cup filled with blood in his hand. "I discovered that the Sisterhood Of Jhe needed to go through a special ritual in order to open the Hellmouth. The ritual included this really weird looking symbol, which I - after quite some struggle - managed to destroy. So the Hellmouth closed. By that time, one monster had already managed to get up above ground, so I sent it sky high. I'll admit I was a bit Graduation inspired by that. Unfortunately, I was so weakened that I got caught in the explosion and...well, I'm not really to clear on the parts after that, except that I passed out in the woods, trying to find shelter." He took a deep, quivering breath and set the cup of blood onto the night stand. "I guess it was only pure luck that I didn't burn."

"Well, you did burn," Spike replied, trying to joke about Angel's leg to keep the mood light. He didn't know Angel could feel the worry flooding his childe, because of the special bond the two were sharing. But he didn't say anything about it.

Spike took a big piece off the apple and threw the rest of it across the room and into a trash can in one of the corners. "Well, thanks. I don't know if it's deserved, though. It was too big to be covered up properly. But on the other hand, it's supposed to be so healthy for wounds to get some air as well."

"You know," Angel said with a smile, "you're not as stupid as you seem." Spike stuck his tongue out at the older vampire, a mix of a pout and a playful grin on his face. "Shut up, hairball! You shouldn't be talking about looking stupid! And aren't you supposed to be sick, by the way?"

Mark chuckled a little and the two men went into the kitchen, the half-demon setting the bags he was carrying onto the kitchen table. "I brought you some stuff. Latest newspapers, some magazines - and lots of blood, of course."

"It will, thank you so much," Spike said, opening the bags and quickly checking the containers. "I'm kind of hungry as well - the great poofini in here, have been feeding for two the past day."

"Angelus," Spike said with a sigh, his face suddenly serious. He didn't like to be reminded how close he had been to be left alone. That his sire really had been dangerously close to burn to a pile of ashes. Despite the fact that he could joke about it occasionally, he really just wanted to put the whole thing behind them and pretend it never happened.

Mark returned the nod with a polite one of his own, before he checked his watch. "Well, I'll be going then. I really just came by to drop off the blood and to keep Spike here with company for a while, but it seems you're well enough to do that."

"No, I still have some blood left in this cup," Angel said, gesturing to the cup on the night stand. Then he turned to Spike again, a caring smile on his face. "Right now, I just want you to sit here and talk to me."

So the two vampires had thoroughly thanked the half-demon, and then started adjusting to doing things for themselves. Angel's leg still hadn't recovered enough to keep him on his feet, something they'd found out the hard way, but his fever had disappeared, and all his other wounds seemed to be almost gone, leaving behind only a couple of nearly invisible scars. Spike's cocky attitude had returned as Angel's cuts had disappeared, and he didn't have nightmares anymore.

it."Spike's jaw dropped to the floor. Then he clapped his mouth shut and a wide smile spread across his face. Angel was really up and walking - on his own. "Y-your leg..." was all he got out, before he gave a loud cheer and bounced like a child. "You can walk!" he screamed, his whole body practically glowing.

"Yeah, I know," Spike replied, pacing in front of the older vampire, his hands waving in all directions. "I know I've said it already, but...I mean...for fuck's sake, Angelus, you can walk!"

Spike's grin disappeared and he froze in the spot, not really believing his own ears. "You...called...you just called me..." he slowly stuttered out, an amazed expression on his face. Angel just nodded, a tender smile on his face.

"Of course I did," he said, his hand sliding down to take Spike's. "After all, you *are* my Will." Then he stepped up to Spike and kissed him lightly. When he pulled back, he placed his other arm around Spike's waist. "My William," he said, giving the blonde another light kiss. "My childe."

As he kissed Spike again, this time deeper, his arms went around Spike, pressing their bodies together. Spike responded by bringing his hands up to Angel's face, eagerly returning the kiss. Carefully, his tongue found Angel's and they moved together, slowly, touching and teasing as the kiss grew deeper.

Spike wanted to stay like this forever - he wanted to kiss Angel and never stop. He wanted to love him, make love to him, stay with him, watch over him, hold him and kiss him for all eternity, and he never wanted to let him go.

Moaning slightly into Angel's mouth, he swore to himself that he would never let his sire go like he had done a half year earlier. He would never take the chance of losing him again. Suddenly, a thought struck him, and he broke the kiss, even though he really didn't want to.

Angel arched a brow, sensing his childe's worries. "Yes, I am," he replied. "I'm fully healed now. The only thing is the leg, but...well, making love doesn't exactly require standing up."

Spike had to grin. "Not necessarily," he said with a wink of his eye, before placing his lips to Angel's again, this time allowing the sensations to wash over him and carry him totally away.

They used a few minutes just getting to the bed because they kept bumping into the wall and had some real trouble getting through the door while kissing the other senseless and tearing off each other's clothes, but once they were there, there were no more obstacles in their way. They continued to kiss deeply and now passionately, rolling around until Spike was on

top. Kicking his jeans off and to the floor, Spike started to nibble and lick his way down Angel's now bare chest, unbuckling the older man's belt along the way. Reveling in the small, almost inaudible moans and sighs coming from his sire, Spike had to grin as he traced his tongue around his bellybutton, opening Angel's fly and tugging at the pants. When he had pulled on the pants for a few seconds, he raised his head and sighed deeply but affectionately.

Then his gaze fell to his sire's left leg. The wound which had once been there was now gone, but the area was still scarred and didn't look entirely good. And the area that traveled around his ankle was still black crisp around the edges and thinner than it should be. "Angel, are you sur-"

Angel sat up and reached out in order to grab Spike's arms and haul the younger man up so they were face to face. "Shut up," he ordered quietly, before covering Spike's lips with his own. Spike didn't attempt to speak any more.

Plunging his tongue into his sire's mouth, the blonde vampire's hands found the waistband of Angel's boxers, and as they fell back towards the pillows, Spike managed to pull the shorts completely off. Quickly pushing off his own black cotton boxers, he moved his right hand to Angel's pale, hard cock, wrapping five long fingers around it and teasingly pumping slowly a few times.

"I'm fine," Angel replied, taking a shaky breath and smiling. "I just...Well, it might have made me look bad if I came all over your hand two minutes before we even got started. I had to...uh, regain control over myself." Then he shrugged. "It's been a long while."

"I...let me..." Angel moaned out, trying to reach down so he could do the same to Spike, but Spike would have none of it. Instead, he just slapped Angel's hand lightly away, then returned to his ministrations, now using both hands to pump the cock pulsating in his palms.

Holding the hard member with both hands, the blonde settled upon a slow rhythm, pulling his left hand upwards and pushing his right hand downwards, and then the other way around, before he carefully crawled lower on the bed. When Angel's cock was mere inches from his face, he bowed his head and stuck out his tongue, barely touching Angel's sac. The older vampire's cock pulsed and jumped in his hands and he chuckled soundlessly. At the second lick, Angel moaned loudly and squirmed slightly on the bed.

The souled vampire had no idea he could feel this way - not even Buffy had been able to wake these kind of feelings in his heart. It felt as if he was ready to explode in pleasure and happiness. Pure happiness, radiating directly from his heart and out into every corner of both his body, his soul and his demon, and to someone who up until a few decades ago would turn evil if he was happy, the feeling was indescribable.

Moving his mouth to the head of Angel's cock, Spike sucked at the tip and lapped at the precum. Something sounding like a half-growl, half-gurgle came from deep in Angel's chest, before the dark-haired vampire bucked his hips, his un-needed breathing having become frantic.

His brain had turned into a puddle and was slowly running out his ears. The whole room seemed to have disappeared, and all he could think about was his beautiful childe and what he was doing with his mouth at the moment. Angel was on the brink of his orgasm, when suddenly Spike stopped, removing both his hands and mouth completely.

"Wha-" Angel started to ask, raising his head, but he stopped himself from finishing the question when Spike crawled up the bed and their lips met once again, their tongues dancing and caressing. Angel could taste his precum on Spike's tongue, and it made him squirm under the blonde again.

Dimly he heard the sound of a drawer getting opened, and only mere seconds afterwards, two slick fingers penetrated his hole. Rolling his hips slightly to give Spike better access, Angel moaned into the blonde's mouth. When Spike finally broke the kiss, he quickly squeezed some more lube from the small tube he'd obtained from the nightstand and covered his erection with it. Then he leaned back in over Angel, taking his sire's right knee and hooking it over his inner elbow. Using his other hand to guide his hard member, he found Angel's tight hole and slowly pushed the tip inside.

Both vampires inhaled sharply, and a not exactly unpleasant knot appeared in Angel's chest. Slowly pushing forward with his hips, Spike slid further and further into Angel, until he was completely covered, his pelvis pressed up against Angel's ass. Not moving, Spike leaned down to give Angel a soft and slow kiss. Angel's hands immediately went around the younger vampire, clinging to his shoulders.

"Then why are you trembling?" Spike asked, starting to pull away. Using his hands on Spike's shoulders to hold the peroxide blonde vampire firmly in place, Angel shook his head. He was indeed trembling, but it had nothing to do with his leg.

"Oh," Spike simply replied. A small part of him was telling him that his sire was lying, that he just wanted this so bad that he'd tolerate the pain in his leg - but at the same time, he knew it wasn't so. If it was, the blonde man would have felt it immediately, the powerful connection he had with his sire somehow helping him to realize that.

Leaning down again, Spike kissed Angel tenderly, before he started moving. He pulled almost completely out of Angel, before he pushed back in, the tight ring of muscles squeezing his hard member and almost driving him insane. Moving a bit faster, Spike set into a not too slow, but gentle rhythm, his mouth never leaving Angel's.

In his mind, a small voice was telling him over and over that he loved his sire, this dark-haired man squirming underneath him, above everything on earth. And Spike realized it was completely true - he did love Angel more than life itself.

As the pleasure grew, both vampires' breathing now being frenzied around the kiss they were still sharing. Spike's stomach rubbed against Angel's still rock hard staff with every thrust he made, and Angel moaned loudly every time Spike hit his prostate. Spike felt the familiar pressure building in his sac, and his thrusts, which had grown from slow to fast, now became even faster and shallow.

Tearing his mouth away from Angel, he snarled, his eyes squeezing shut before he gave one final thrust, burying himself completely within Angel as a powerful orgasm swept over him. White-hot dots danced behind his closed eyelids, and electricity ran straight through his body. Breathing heavily, the blonde vampire slumped on top of his sire and buried his face in Angel's neck, occasionally nibbling the vein pulsing just below the surface as he struggled to regain his breath.

After mere seconds, Spike moved again, placing himself between Angel's still spread legs. Taking his sire's hard member in one hand, he engulfed the velvet steel in his mouth, sucking hard and pumping the base between two fingers as his tongue danced along the sensitive underside. Moaning, Angel squirmed underneath the younger man, sharp jolts of pleasure shooting through his body.

When Spike used his other hand to caress his sire's sac and roll his balls gently between his fingers, Angel couldn't hold back anymore, and with a loud growl he spilled himself in Spike's cool mouth. Swallowing, Spike crawled up the bed again, cuddling up against the panting vampire and throwing an arm across his waist, their deep breaths the only sound in the room.

As their breathing returned to normal, they both closed their eyes and started to drift off, exhausted and content. Just before Spike had fallen completely asleep, he heard a quiet mumble from his sire.

"Bloody, fucking hell!" Angel glanced at the peroxide blonde vampire on the bed a few feet to his right. The *angry* peroxide blonde vampire on the bed a few feet to his right. "I am never, ever gettin' on a friggin' boat again as long as I live!" Spike exclaimed hoarsely.

Angel chuckled as the boat hit another big wave and rolled, causing Spike to make another moan. "Then I'll have to remind you whose idea this was," Angel said, returning his gaze to the book in his lap."

"I don't see what the big, big point is," Spike complained, breathing heavily through his mouth. "We're only staying for as long as it takes us to drive through the country, and then we go back! Besides, it's not fair! Vampires aren't supposed to get bloody seasick!"

"How am I supposed to bloody sleep at ten in the evening?" Spike asked in a squeal. "And even if it had been daytime, I probably would have been too nauseous to sleep! I probably would have been too nauseous to be

"Oh, I'm sure you'll live," Angel said. Spike just growled in reply. Then he dry heaved again as the boat rolled on a particularly big wave. Angel saw that the younger vampire practically deflated before his eyes, becoming even more pale than he normally was, and his amusement was immediately replaced with compassion.

Inhaling deeply and shakingly, Spike nodded once, before closing his eyes and burying his face in Angel's shoulder, loving the smell that was pure Angel-smell. Strong and manly, yet vulnerable - the unique scent that only Angel had. The unique scent that Spike loved almost as much as he loved the man who the smell belonged to.

It had taken the two vampires not more than five days to cross the States. They'd driven every night and sometimes during the day when they could, thanks to the relatively new, underground tunnels that ran through big areas and sometimes whole states. They had been built around two decades ago, and all vampires appreciated it a lot because they allowed them to get around during the day if they needed to travel far. Like Spike and Angel.

The high-and-mighty people were trying to get something similar built in various countries in Europe, but so far only the US had enough money to build the tunnels and the high-tech, advanced ventilation-system that blew fresh air into them.

Slowly, he opened the door and got out of the car, closing his eyes and letting the mild night air and the sounds of the night wash over him. A click was heard to his left, followed by the sounds of footsteps on the soft ground, before he heard the door on the driver's side close. Opening his eyes again, he closed the door on his side of the car, before he raised his head and met Angel's eyes dead on.

It was the morning after a night filled with lots and lots of love-making that they had agreed to go back to Sunnydale for a visit together. The purpose of the trip was to visit their friends' graves and check out how the town had changed since they'd last seen it, before they would return to London and celebrate their one-year anniversary there, counting from the day Angel returned from Romania.

Spike had commented on his ability to heal, stating that it made him jealous, but Angel didn't think his childe had any reason to be. His skin was just as perfect as Angel's - pale, smooth and with only a couple of scars testifying to the fact that the vampire the skin was attached to had been alive for well over two and a half century.

Over a year had already passed since Angel and Spike had said their good-byes, not knowing if it would be forever. The tragic event was put behind them. Neither vampire thought about it, and neither vampire wanted to think about it.

The first months after Angel had taken his first steps after his return, the two vampires had spent every available minute training. Spike would help Angel walk around the apartment, supporting him when he needed it, and encouraging him when he needed it. After a while, the blonde vampire would also take his sire on walks along the Thames, making sure never to leave him alone so he was there if the older vampire suddenly was in need of support. The first months, Angel's knees had a tendency of giving out underneath him, sending him tumbling to the ground without notice, but by the fifth month he was doing fine. Both vampires had wondered why it had taken so long for Angel's leg to heal. Then they had figured that the nerve system in Angel's leg must practically have been eliminated and that it was only naturally that it would take a lot of time building itself up again, especially since Angel's body technically wasn't alive.

The scarred area was gone, as was the black crisp around his ankle and the in sunken flesh. Nobody could see how badly he'd once been injured. Actually, nobody could see he'd been injured at all unless they already knew about it. As they reached the headstones they were seeking, a complete silence settled over both vampires, the graveyard and seemingly the entire town.

Six white headstones in polished marble, slightly worn from wind and weather through the years. Nothing scary about them. Yet, both vampires were extremely tense. Finally, Angel slowly crouched in front of one of the headstones, watching the black letters carved into the white marble, that formed the words 'Buffy Anne Summers, 1981-2003.'

Spike immediately shot back, before quickly turning his head to the headstone again. "Don't believe a bloody word he's telling ya, Slayer. He may change his clothes, but nobody ever notices because they're all so black that you can't really tell the difference."

Angel just glared at him for a minute, before the over 300 years old vampire stuck out his tongue at his childe, and pouted like a sullen child. Spike just stared at his sire for several long moments. Then he laughed. Chuckling, trying to keep the laughter back, he shook his head. "Cor, Angel, somebody should have videotaped you! I swear, I've never seen anybody look so damn ridiculous in all my lifetime!"

"Hey!" Spike said, still chuckling. Raising an eyebrow at Angel, he gave one more chuckle, before he pounced at the older vampire, sending them both tumbling and rolling across the ground. Now Angel was laughing as well, and with a twist of his torso, he flipped Spike over him. The blonde vampire landed on his back, but was back on his hands and knees in a second, pouncing on Angel yet again.

The night time in Sunnydale didn't seem quite so frightening anymore and the dark didn't seem quite so dark anymore, as the rich sounds of laughter and playing could be heard through the cemetery.

When Spike and Angel finally stopped wrestling each other, both lay back in the grass in front of the headstones and looked up at the star-filled sky, listening to the distant sounds of cars from downtown Sunnydale. Even the little town on top of the Hellmouth had grown over the years, although not as much as the really big cities, like New York, Tokyo and London.

Spike chuckled as well, raising an eyebrow. "Well, then I hope they enjoy the show," he said, turning his head to Angel, a grin on his face and a twinkle in his blue eyes. "After all, we *are* pretty good."

"I'm sure they love it," Angel replied, a grin mirroring Spike's on his own face. Then he quickly dropped a kiss to Spike's lips and sat up, facing the headstones. Then he sat watching them in silence for a long while.

"I guess," he simply said, the bond they shared helping him understand that Angel really was done here. The chapter about the little town called Sunnydale was written on pages long since turned.

He was afraid that Angel would realize that he really had loved Buffy all along, that their love was eternal even though one of them was dead. He was afraid that Angel would break down and cry, because it pained him to see Angel hurting.

Now, he knew he shouldn't have worried. He just knew that Angel felt no grief, he felt no sorrow - only felt happiness over being allowed to have loved someone like Buffy. To be allowed to have been loved by someone like Buffy. Despite their differences and difficulties.

"Yeah," he replied. Then he walked over to Spike and placed an arm around his shoulders. "I did." Returning the smile, Spike placed an arm around Angel's waist as they started walking again.

Spike sighed and rolled his eyes. "Alright, I *am* getting on one of those ships again. But know that I'm doing this under protest. And don't blame me if I puke all over your precious *all-black* clothes!"