A Thin Line

Distribution: Dru can always have anything she wants. The list archives are welcome to anything I post. Otherwise, my site and others who have permission for other fics of mine, go ahead if you want. If you don't have permission, just ask.

Author's Notes, round one: Angel is Spike's sire. I refuse to listen to Joss on this matter. At least, not to his retraction of the fact that ANGEL IS SPIKE'S SIRE!

Author's Notes, round two: This is a dual POV fic. Angel and Spike. The switches in POV are designated by equals signs: "=======" Now, hopefully it will be fairly easy to follow. If it isn't, I'll try to get it on my site soon with different font colors for each POV. But let me know if you'd rather wait for that, so I can email you when it's up!

I'm not sure why I'm here in Sunnydale. I didn't plan on coming back. Three nights after Willow came to tell us the news, I came. And I... well, grieved. But it's a good thing I did it alone; because it consisted of a lot of screaming, ranting, raving, sobbing, crying...basically a mini-breakdown. But I needed it. Nobody was there except for the two of us and I had to let go. I know she understood. I felt her presence and it soothed me a little.

I went to visit Dawn, of course. I noticed then how like Buffy she'd become. She didn't treat me like the guy who'd broken her sister's heart. She just acted and I think she genuinely *was* happy to see me. She also wouldn't let me comfort her. Instead she fussed over me. I stayed a few hours and then left before sunrise. Before I did, though, Dawn mentioned she was worried about Spike. If Willow hadn't told me the whole story of all Spike had done to help, I wouldn't have understood. But she had, and I did.

Dawn told me that Spike had barricaded himself in the lower portion of his crypt and was refusing to see anyone. Even her. I told her he just needed time. He'd be okay in a few days.

I really wasn't so sure about that, but I hoped I was. For Dawn's sake, more than for Spike's. She'd obviously become very attached to him. I'm not sure I convinced Dawn, but she didn't push me to do anything. I think she knew I was the last person with any ability to help Spike.

She has called several times in the past two weeks. Each time it has been apparent she was growing more and more worried about Spike. He has finally begun to patrol with the others and that *would* be good news, except for the fact that he seems to be drunk all the time. So he's not much help. He also checks in on Dawn occasionally but he still doesn't like to talk.

What really worried me was what she told me today. She had already told me that he'd lost weight and never feeds in anyone's presence, but I figured he just fed when he was alone. The weight loss is understandable, too. I haven't had much of an appetite either.

But today, she told me that yesterday, she went to visit him and discovered that the cooler in his crypt was empty. She asked him if he needed blood, but he told her he had plenty. She was upset but didn't know how to convince him to feed. And this time I didn't tell her he needed time. I told her I'd be there a couple hours after sunset.

So here I am. I'm completely unsure of what I can do but I have to try to do something. I can't even convince myself that things would be better if he finishes himself off. For two reasons. One: Dawn has obviously grown fond of him and doesn't need another death to deal with. Not this soon after losing her mother and sister. The other reason is the realization that *I* don't want him to be gone, either.

Not because we're close. We're not. Haven't been since the curse... to put it mildly. I'm pretty certain that he hates me, although I realize the root cause of that hatred was my abandonment of him and Drusilla. Before the curse, he was very attached to me. And I to him. But I left because I felt it was the right thing. I couldn't face what *I* was, much less the demons that I'd created. Even if I *did* love them.

When we ran into each other back in Sunnydale, it was difficult. For both of us. He didn't understand my coolness toward him and I didn't know how to explain. So he turned whatever he had felt for me in the past into hatred, very easily.

But still, I hoped I could protect Buffy without hurting him. I probably *could* have dusted him and Dru long ago, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. They were my childer and I still felt something for them. And to my relief, while we were in Sunnydale, I didn't have to make the decision between killing them or letting Buffy die.

When I did attempt to destroy Drusilla along with Darla, it was for different reasons. I thought it more merciful to put Dru out of her misery. So that was what I tried to do. It was an easy decision to make.

I'm not so sure I would ever be able to make that same decision where Spike is concerned. He's given me plenty of opportunities to do that. When he tortured me over the Ring of Amarra, for instance, I could have gone after him once I'd been rescued. But I didn't. I deserved his hatred. So I let him go. That, too, was an easy decision to make.

Today I found myself needing to make a different kind of decision. A decision whether to let him end his life or to save it. Another easy decision. I put the past few years of bad blood behind me and got in my car after sunset. My boy needs me, and I have to try to do something to help.

I know the arsehole's standing here, outside my crypt. I can bloody well smell him. Dunno why he's here and don't much care either. I don't care. My new words to live by. Everyone and everything I've ever cared about has caused me pain. I cared about Angelus and he left. I cared about Dru and she left. I cared about Buffy and she left. I also care, in a different way, about Dawn. But she'll leave too. Unless I leave first. Nothing left to care about. Slayer's dead and I gave her more of my heart than I've ever given anyone. I let her see the man inside me and she stomped all over him. But I didn't take the hint. I kept giving her more and more and when she died, she took all of it with her.

There's nothing left of me except the pain. Pain that eats away at my insides and there's no way to make it go away. I tried booze. Lots of it. So much I can't stand up. But it doesn't help. I still see her face. That, along with the memory of her plummeting to the ground. Those are the images left in my mind.

I haven't cried, not since that day. I've tried, so many times. I go to her grave and read the stupid inscription. I think of her body in that coffin, rotting away. I relive in my mind the moment she kissed me, of her own free will. I've even sat in my crypt and sliced my arms open with a razor blade and watched the blood flow. All those things add to my pain, but there aren't any tears. Maybe I can't cry anymore. Maybe she took my tears, along with everything else.

"Spike?" I walk into the crypt slowly. I didn't need to announce my presence. He knew I was here, just as I knew he was inside, before I opened the door. But I felt like I should say something, since this is *his* place. I don't know what I'm doing here. I don't know what to do in the next few seconds, or minutes... Play it by ear, I guess.

I look around and frown. There are empty bottles everywhere. Vodka, whisky, beer, every other kind of alcoholic beverage. He's sitting against the far wall, another half-empty bottle in his hand and a cigarette hanging from his lips.

His appearance hurts me to see, too. He's wearing black jeans but no shirt. Dawn was right about his not feeding. He's lost a lot of weight. He always was a little skinny but this is ... almost skeletal. I shudder at the thought. I can see his ribs.

I walk over to him, silently and crouch in front of him. "Spike?" I pause before I say anything else. I'm not sure what to say. I'm not going to throw him any of the stereotypical phrases one says to those who lose a loved one: 'Are you okay?' 'Do you need anything?' Etc.

He's my childe and I already know the answers to those questions, anyway. He's *not* okay. He needs something, but it's not anything I can give him. Nobody can. He's just lost someone he loved.

Yes, he loved her. I know that. I always saw how drawn he was to her. I never worried about it, though. I knew that, at the very least, his interest in her would help keep her alive. I also knew she'd never return his feelings. Sure, she may have grown to think of him as a friend but I'm quite sure it wasn't more. She was firmly in the 'soul-less demons bad' way of thinking.

But he loved her anyway. He always was able to love in a way that no other demon could. There is more of the man in him than many realize. And that makes him love more deeply than anyone would expect.

His eyes dart up to mine and away again and I feel his pain for a moment. The pain of loving and losing. It's a pain I know because I feel it too.

"What do you *want*?" I ask. The sooner he tells me the sooner I can throw his big ass out. I don't want him here. I don't want to feel his sympathy. I don't want to *feel*, period.

He sits down next to me, leaning against the wall. I spare him a glance, but he's not looking at me. He's looking straight ahead. Like I was, a few minutes ago. I was looking at her. She was smiling. It was nice.

He kneels down in front of me, chasing her image away for the moment. Bloody hell. What the fuck is he doing here? Can't a vamp grieve in peace?

"Dawn called me," he says finally. Bloody hell, I say again. I love the little brat but she needs to mind her own business. If I want to leave, there's not a damn thing she *or* my sire can do about it.

"Oh." I take another swig of the vodka. I wonder if vamps can get alcohol poisoning? Probably not. But filling my stomach with something tricks my body into not demanding to be fed.

Blood is the source of all of my problems. Dawn's blood. Buffy's blood. One person's blood opened the fucking portal; the other one's blood sealed it. Blood took away everything that mattered and left me with nothing. So I don't want to drink any blood, because it would just prolong my pain. And I want it to stop.

"WHAT?" I explode, jumping to my feet. "*I'm* selfish? FUCK YOU!" I scream, diving at him. Once he's down I just start punching. "YOU'RE THE ONE WHO LEFT, YOU BASTARD! AT LEAST I STAYED! I GOT BEATEN TO A BLOODY MESS AND I STILL STAYED!!!! I DIDN'T RUN AWAY LIKE YOU DID! I STAYED AND I FOUGHT BY HER SIDE! AT LEAST I TRIED!"

I get an idea of how to get through to him. I have to get him to break down those walls he's put up, shutting everyone out. Shutting his emotions out. So I pull an Angelus move and taunt him: "Don't be a selfish brat, Boy."

And it works. He knocks me to my back and jumps on top of me, punching and screaming. I block a few of the better-placed punches, but let the others through. I don't fight back, because I know he needs this. He needs an outlet for the pain. Right now it's anger coming through but hopefully the other emotions will follow.

"AT LEAST I TRIED!" He screams. Then another wordless scream as he slumps to the floor, in the fetal position. He starts sobbing, loud, heart-breaking sobs. I lie there just a second in shock but then I act. I pull him into my arms and hold him.

"That's it, let it out, Will," I say quietly. It startles me a moment that his name fell so easily from my lips. But he doesn't react. He's too lost in his grief. Grief? It's not a good enough word for what he feels. The pain that I can tune into when I try, that rips through my soul, it's terrible. I always hated to see my boy hurting. He feels it all so deeply. Love and also loss, especially. I feel the old urge to just fix it, make it better. I wish I could.

I know only time can do that. Hopefully I can help, for the moment. I tighten my arms around him and move to sit against the wall. He fists my shirt, clutching me tighter and the action tugs at my heart. "It's all right now," I try to soothe him. "I'm not going anywhere." At least not for the moment.

I shed a few tears of my own while he cries. Partly for the misery he's feeling. Partly because I miss her too. And partly because I realize I've missed *him*.

I'll stay as long as he needs me. I know it probably won't be as long as *I'd* like. But I made the decision over a century ago, when I abandoned him. I can't blame him if he never trusts me again. So I'll stay now, because this isn't about grudges, hatred or mistrust. This is about blood. The blood that we share that gives us a bond sometimes we don't even want. But the bond means I know his pain and he doesn't have to explain it. He can just let go for a while, because I understand. And when he doesn't want me here later, I'll go. He can go back to hating me. I'll go back to regretting the choices I made that caused his hatred.

I don't have a clue how long we've sat here. But I do remember crying like a baby for most of it. Fuck. How the hell did I get so pathetic? Sniffling against my sire's shoulder and holding onto him for dear life. Shit, shit, shit.

Even though, I have to admit, some of the weight has been lifted. Who would've known? All I needed was for someone to bully me into just letting go. It figures it would've been Angel that did it.

And I'm sure he just *loves* this. Taking care of poor, suicidal Spike. Hell, maybe I'm even his new pet project, a new one to save. Except I don't bloody *want* his saving and I sure as hell don't have a soul to save!

I let go of his - really expensive - black silk shirt, wincing at the wrinkles I caused. Sunnydale Angelus would've beaten me bloody for much less. Luckily, I'm not dealing with *that* version of my sire. No, I'm dealing with the much more confusing incarnation.

I should push him away now... but I don't. I can't. It's been too bloody long since my sire has kissed me and it feels too right. He slips his tongue inside my mouth and I'm pretty sure that whimper was from me. Oh, fuck me. I'm pathetic.

I'm okay with being pathetic. I move to straddle him and wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him closer, to let him know that. He growls into my mouth, sending shivers down my spine, as he deepens the kiss.

I'm so fucking hard already. I can't help myself, he did *make* me for this reason. Luckily, I'm not the only one who's turned on here. And I don't want to think about all the reasons I should stop this. I need it too much right now. I need to feel something other than the loneliness and the pain.

Oh, fuck. I'm kissing Spike. He's kissing me back. I'm trying to remember why I shouldn't be doing this, but not having much success. This is my boy and I've missed being with him.

He grinds his hips against mine and I moan, breaking the kiss. I look down into his beautiful, blue eyes, which are filled with desire, along with just a little wariness. That's only natural, of course. It's been too long since we've been together like this. He probably suspects me of not really wanting him.

I run my hands up his sides, my eyes following the trail of my hands. I frown again as I feel and see his rib cage, too prominent, under the pale, perfect skin. I continue up his chest, brushing over his nipples. They immediately harden and he lets out a moan. Shit, I want him. But I want him to do this because he wants me too.

I look up at his face again. "I want you," I say, my voice husky with emotion. "But only if you want this as much as I do," I add. "I don't want this to be about me being your sire and you submitting to me. I just want this to be about us." I study his face, unsure if I made any sense at all.

He regards me a moment before nodding. "If I didn't want ya, I would've have thrown you out a while ago. And this isn't submission, Angel. This is lust, pure and simple." He smirks.

"Good. Now stop yappin' and come on," he says. He jumps to his feet and heads for the hole in the ground. I follow him down the ladder and look around. There's a bed against the wall, but that's the only furniture in the room. Otherwise, there's just the usual mess to step around on the floor. Notebooks. Weapons. More empty alcohol bottles and cigarette butts.

I close the distance between us as he reaches the bed. Before he can turn around again, I press myself against his back and wrap my arms around his waist. He sighs and leans against me and I smile.

I lean down to nip at his throat, while I move my hands up his stomach to his chest. I tease his nipples with my fingers, pinching and tugging at them as he moans and whimpers. He rubs his ass back against me and I groan. I want him now.

Bloody fucking hell. He's got me whimpering and I *never* whimper. "Angel," I pull away and turn to face him. Before I can finish what I was going to say, he shoves me down on the bed. Before I can utter a word in protest, he's on top of me. He kisses me with so much passion and need it would've made me too dizzy to stand anyway. He thrusts his tongue into my mouth and I suck on it with a moan.

I reach between us and unbutton his shirt, quickly. I push it open, whimpering when our bare chests finally make contact. Somehow, I manage to push it off him. Finally. He starts rubbing our bodies together and I growl into his mouth as I feel our cocks rubbing through our pants.

My arms reach around his waist and my hands run up his back and over those broad shoulders. I scratch my nails back down his shirt and he groans. I grin. Soul or no soul, I know what he likes.

He buries his hands in my hair and nips his way down to my throat. He bites down hard with his blunt teeth and I moan, arching up against him. Shit, I want him NOW. I slip my hands under his waistband of his pants and boxers to his ass. I squeeze it and he growls against my neck.

I feel his hand around my cock and I scream. "SHIT, ANGEL!" Hell, I didn't even feel him unfasten my jeans. He starts to stroke me, firmly and I moan, thrusting up into his hand. Fuck, it feels too good.

I can't get enough of Spike. The way he tastes. The way his skin feels against mine. The way he knows just how to touch me. This feels so right.

He screams my name when I take his cock in my hand and I grin against his throat. I know he didn't even notice his jeans were undone, since I chose to bite his throat while my hands were busy elsewhere. I'm a sneaky bastard.

He thrusts up into my hand and I move onto my side, next to him. I look up at his face as I stroke him hard. His head his thrown back and he's gasping for breath he doesn't need. "Fuck, yeah, just like that..." he moans.

He meets my eyes and his flicker yellow for a moment. Then they flutter shut and he screams, wordlessly as he comes. I continue to stroke him gently, working him down from his orgasm.

As Spike tries to recover, I pull my hand away, licking his cum off of it. I moan and he opens his eyes to look at me. He groans at the sight. I smirk, "You taste good," I whisper as I lean down to lick the semen off his stomach.

I continue downward and he whimpers, burying his fingers in my hair. I pull his jeans down to his thighs and run my tongue along his already hardening cock. He tightens his grip, pulling a little at my hair. I growl. Fuck, I always loved when he did that. I take his cock into my mouth and suck it back to hardness.

My hands, which have been rubbing up and down his sides, continue up to his chest. I rub and pinch at his nipples as I continue to suck his cock.

"Fuck," I moan. Angel's sucking me off. He has *never* sucked me off. Oh bloody hell, I'm not complaining, though. He's really, really good at it.

My hands are gripping his hair but he doesn't seem to mind. I resist the urge to hold his head still and fuck his mouth. No need to do it anyway. He's doing just great without my help.

I watch his head as it bobs up and down on my cock and it's too fucking amazing a sight. I would think I've died and gone to Heaven, except that I wouldn't go *there* if I died. So no. This is... It's a really good blowjob and maybe more tonight. I don't know why this is happening but I don't give a damn at the moment. I'm not gonna think about what happens after tonight. That'll take care of itself later.

"SHIT!" I scream when he deep-throats my cock and works his throat muscles around it. He starts humming and then it's all over for Spike. I groan and buck up against him as I shoot my seed down his throat.

I let Spike's cock slide from my mouth and slide back up his body. He has a very dazed look on his face. I smirk. "Enjoyed that, did you?" I purr into his ear, before running my tongue along it and sucking on the earlobe.

I chuckle but then gasp as I feel his hand squeeze my cock through my pants. Apparently his mouth stopped working, but not his hands. Hopefully that will be a good thing for me.

He pushes me off him onto my back and then straddles my hips. He's got rid of his jeans completely, and he grins down at me. "Your turn." His hands run up to my chest and I let out a strangled groan. He chuckles and moves to my nipples, pinching them. I buck my hips up against his, trying to get some relief for my painful erection.

I keep my hands at my sides, even though I want to throw him back on the bed and bury my cock inside him. I close my eyes and moan at the mental image.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks in my ear as he lies down on top of me. "Tell me, Angel. You wanna fuck me?" He rocks against me and I whimper. He chuckles and bites my earlobe.

He crawls down my body and I watch as he settles on his knees between my legs. He looks up to make sure I'm paying attention. Hell, yes, I am. His hands go to the waistband of my black slacks and I bite my lip as he unfastens them and lowers the zipper slowly.

He moves to my right side and places his hands at the waistband of my pants. I lift my hips as he slides both them and my boxer shorts completely off my legs. He crawls back between my legs and runs his hands up them agonizingly slowly. I groan and he smirks back up at me. Shit, I think he's enjoying torturing me. I taught him too well.

His hands stop at my inner thighs, kneading them. I arch up against him and clutch at the sheets. It's hard to resist the urge to just pounce and take him now. He chuckles. "I can almost read your mind, ya know," he says. "You want to fuck me so bad you can't stand it."

He rolls away from me and walks into across the room and I watch him. He hasn't changed his mind, has he? Shit. If he told me to leave, I would. But I thought--

I turn back to look at him and the expression on his face is priceless. He really thought I changed my mind? I walk back to the bed, showing him what I was looking for. I still get a chance to fuck, every once in a while.

I haven't *been* fucked in a few years, but I want it. I throw him the lube. I swear he lets out a sigh of relief and it makes me grin. "Yes I still want you, you idiot," I growl as I crawl back onto the bed and up his body.

Angel rolls us over so he's on top of me and thrusts against me, rubbing our cocks together. I moan and arch against him. "Glad to hear it," he purrs. "Because it's just not as fun getting myself off."

He slides down my body and sits between my legs. His hands run down my thighs and around to the backs of my knees, pushing them up against my chest. I hold them there and he grins at me. Yes, I remember this well, Angel. Better than I'd like you to know. I watch him as he coats two fingers with the lube and then finds my hole, rubbing against it gently.

"Fuck, Angel, do it," I gasp. I moan as I feel one finger pushing inside me. Oh yeah. I may be pathetic but it's something that I don't wanna change. Especially when he slides in deeper and scratches his nail across my... "SHIT!"

I scream from the pleasure/pain as a third finger enters me. I like a little pain. He apparently remembers that. He begins to fuck me with his fingers, stretching me and making sure I feel the pleasure as he hits my prostate with every thrust inside. "Yesgodyesgoodfuckangelmore," I start to babble, rocking against his fingers.

Too soon, the fingers are gone. I realize I've shut my eyes and I open them again, watching as he coats his cock with the lube and then positions himself at my entrance. "You want it, Spike?" he smirks at me.

I lean down to kiss him and our tongues tangle as he rocks up against me. I smile against his mouth. My boy always was an impatient one. I withdraw my cock, slowly, until just the tip of it is still inside him. I wait for him to whimper. Just like that. And then I slam back into him.

"GODS!" he screams, tearing his mouth away from mine. I hiss with pleasure when his muscles clamp down on my cock. Damn, Spike. Keep that up and this is gonna be a short fuck. He might realize that because his muscles relax as I pull out of him again.

I start to set my pace. Slow withdrawals, followed by quick thrusts inside. The way he's whimpering, I know I'm hitting his prostate. I brace myself with one hand next to his head. With the other, I reach between us and begin to jerk him off.

"ANGEL!" he moans clutching at my shoulders as he lifts his hips to meet my thrusts. He looks into my eyes as his flicker to yellow. He fights back the demon, but there's no reason to. Not around me, anyway. I growl and let my demon slip forward and he sighs, doing the same.

I kiss him again and we snarl as our fangs draw blood. I groan as our blood mixes, the taste of my boy on my tongue now. I speed up my thrusts inside him and nip my way down to his throat, leaving tiny trails of blood, which I lap up eagerly.

His hands are in my hair, pulling me toward his jugular vein and I know what he wants. I want it too. But I also want... I move to his ear, tracing along it with my tongue before whispering, "You don't have to wait for permission, Spike." He groans and I smile, glad he understands what I'm telling him.

I sink my fangs into his throat and he howls, his inner muscles contracting around my cock as he comes. I growl and follow him, shooting my seed inside him. His blood... so good. I whimper when I feel his fangs enter my throat.

Oh fuck. So good. I roll us onto our sides, bodies still joined, as we continue to drink each other, moaning from the pleasure of it. I can't believe I gave *this* up. I was so stupid to let him go. My arms tighten around his waist as I realize I don't want to walk away again.

Shit, my cock is hard again, trapped in between our bodies. Just from drinking sire's blood. And I didn't have to wait for him to *let* me, this time. I nearly came right then, when he told me I didn't have to ask.

I pull my fangs out of his throat, reluctantly, and he whimpers. I grin against his skin as I start to lick at the puncture holes, helping them heal.

I notice that he's still inside me and I sigh contentedly. I don't want either of us to move; it feels right. I wish... shit I wish so many things.

I moan as I feel his cock stirring to life inside me. Shit that's a fucking awesome feeling. He chuckles and nuzzles my ear. "Feels like we're both up for more," he whispers in my ear.

Oh yeah. Gotta love that supernatural recovery time. I roll us over so I'm on top this time. He hisses with pleasure as the position pushes his cock further into my hole. My hands go to his chest to help support myself as I raise myself up slowly. Fuck, I think that was me who whimpered again.

I glance down at him and he's just staring at me. Those eyes that always show so much are filled with need and lust, at the moment. I like that. It's much better than the disappointment I usually... shut UP, Spike. Fuck now. Think later.

I drop back down on his cock and he screams, "FUCK, SPIKE!" His hands go to my hips, probably because he needs to hold something. Yeah, that was good. I repeat the action again, faster, raising up and then slamming down on him. My hands wander his chest, scratching and leaving red marks that I know will fade too quickly. Then I move a little, leaning down to lick and kiss his chest. I continue to fuck myself on his cock and whimper as the change in angle makes him hit my prostate.

SHIT! I bite down on a nipple as he starts to thrust up into me, increasing the incredible way this feels. He growls and grabs my hair, pulling me up for a kiss. I thrust my tongue inside his mouth and moan. The taste of him, combined with the remnants of me still on his tongue is just perfect.

I pull away again and sit up. I move faster and harder as I try to bring us over the edge again. I squeeze him as he slides back in and he grunts, "Fuck."

"Shit, Angel, so good. So good inside me," I moan. I hiss when I feel one of his hands start to stroke me, the other squeezing my balls gently. "Bloody... hell," I choke out. "Gonna--"

The look of complete ecstasy on his face is all I need to push me into orgasm and I scream his name. He falls onto me and I wrap my arms around him. We're both panting for breath. I realize then that I'm purring, which doesn't surprise me since I'm pretty content. Not *perfect* happiness, because I'm not fooling myself about what happens next.

This is a moment outside of our normal lives. Spike needed me. He needed to feel. He needed to feel like someone still wanted him. So I was there for those things. I know he'll be okay now, which will make it easier to walk away.

I *should* go now. He's stirring, and moving off me. It's the perfect time. He's lying here on his back next to me, still trying to recover from his last orgasm. As I look over at him, I see again how skinny he's gotten. Shit. I shouldn't have drunk from him. Even though he drank from me too, he didn't get enough to help.

He grunts in reply and shuts his eyes. I'm about to say more but he speaks. "Dawn brought some blood over the other day. Sneaky little chit slipped it into my cooler and I didn't even notice until she'd gone."

"Okay then." I sit up and find a towel in the mess on the floor, wiping the cum from my stomach. I toss it to him and then walk over to the ladder, to go find the blood.

I watch him, admiring the view as he walks back to the ladder. He was always very aware of how fucking sexy he was. I think Darla helped his ego that way. I'm sure I helped a little too.

I take the towel he tossed and clean myself up a little. I smell like him now. But I don't mind it. It's ... familiar. Gods, I am *so* pathetic. How do I get myself into these situations? Ugh.

He's back before I can beat myself up about it too much. He sits on the bed and hands me a mug of blood, having gotten one for himself too. I sip it, hesitantly, because it *has* been two weeks since I've fed.

He's watching me and I know he has something on his mind. Why can't he just leave already? I don't need to have this 'You know nothing can happen with us' talk. Oh, I know why. He's Angel. He thinks just leaving without getting everything straight would be wrong. Fine. Might as well get this over with, I suppose. "What?"

He looks surprised. Well, he's not the only one who's gotten good at reading facial expressions. I think I've been around humans too much since I got chipped. I'm pretty good at telling what all the Scoobies are feeling, at this point.

With Angel, it's partly that practice that makes it so easy. The other part being he's my sire and I can feel his ... nervousness? Why's he nervous?

I can't believe I'm seriously considering asking him this. I've lost my fucking mind, I think. I'm either gonna get yelled at, laughed at... or something else, which is the reason I'm going to ask. Because I think there's hope and if I don't ask, I'll never know whether that hope is just me with a bad case of wishful thinking.

Gods, there's so much that needs to be said. But the rest can wait. "I know you resent me and there are really good reasons for that resentment. But if you'll give me a chance, we'll talk about all those reasons, and I'll try to explain why I did what I did. No excuses, just explanations. And I'm perfectly aware of the fact you may never forgive me, anyway. It's a chance I'm willing to take."

He's looking at the bed now and I've never been so nervous in my life. "But for now, what I want to say is this. From the moment I left you and Dru, I wished that I hadn't. I came back here tonight because I've always thought of you as my childe, even if you doubted that. I couldn't just let you destroy yourself without trying to stop you.

"I wasn't using you tonight. I wanted you and I don't regret the sex. If you were using me, that's okay. I would've done anything to try to help you through the pain.

"But if ..." I swallow hard and try to continue. "Whether to you this was just a fuck or something else, it doesn't matter. I want you to come back to L.A. with me." He looks up at me in shock and I hold my hand up. "Please let me finish. I don't expect ... this," I wave my hand around us vaguely. "I just want to have you around, and like I said, a chance to talk things out with you.

"And if you can... well, forgive me, I'd like to see where we can go from there. I've missed you. I know you don't think of me as your sire and I won't lie to you; I'll *never* be him. But I'll always think of you as my childe. If there is *any* chance for us though, I want something a little more equal than that.

"I also realize you may never forgive me and I can learn to live with that. I'll never pull rank on you. You've been your own vampire for over a century and I don't want to control you. If you come with me and give it a chance and you hate it there, you can leave any time you want. But like I said, it's your choice.

"You can bring Dawn, too, if that's something you're worried about. I love her and I would like to help you protect her. I've got a huge hotel and you two can pick out rooms of your own and... Even if we're never friends, we can both make sure Dawn is safe."

I trail off again. I don't think I'm saying any of this right. "If you say no now, that's okay. I'll accept that answer and go back to L.A. And you don't need to worry about me coming back or pressuring you about this. I'll leave you alone. My offer stands, though. If you ever decide you want to come to L.A. I'd never turn you away. I..." Shit, shut up, Angel. You're rambling.

I almost can't believe I just heard what I know I heard. Angel wants me to come to L.A.? Angel wants something more than tonight? I always thought he hated me. How can he *want* me?

More important, how can I even be considering this? How do I know I'm not just his pet project? How do I know he won't change his mind again and send me packing? Everyone who's ever wanted me has changed his or her mind... including him.

I don't know what to say. I *am* tired of being alone. I want to believe we can work things out, but what if we can't? There is a part of me that hates him and I don't know if that can ever change. I don't think I can handle one more failure. I'd already decided that I don't want to give someone else the chance to hurt me. Why the hell would I give him a *second* chance to do that? No. It's probably better to just send him on his way back to L.A.

I reach the ground floor of the crypt and Dawn gives me that *look*. The same suspicious one that Buffy has turned on me so many times in the past. Damn, it hurts sometimes to see how alike they are.

"Why?" I see a little hope in her eyes and my heart hurts a little more. Because I realize now what an asshole I've been. I really put her through something awful, making her worry about me, on top of her grieving. Angel was right, I *was* being selfish.

"Oh," she nods but I know she doesn't really understand yet. "Spike, this may sound really ... weird, but have you seen Angel? I, um," she looks down at the ground, "I know you hate him but I called him because I was worried and I didn't know what else to do."

"I'm still here." Dawn and I both jump at the sound of Angel's voice. I look over at him. Good. Fully clothed. No need to freak the chit out. Those aspects of the sire/childe relationship are things I'm sure the Watcher knows, but he hasn't passed on the knowledge to the rest of the Scoobies. And that's good because they wouldn't understand.

I notice the flash of sorrow in his eyes. He doesn't want to go by that house anymore than I do. "No, I need to get back," he says. He looks over at me but I look at the ground. I can't meet his eyes. It's better this way. He knows that. "I should go now." He adds.

"It's not safe," I answer. I can't believe she got out here without any of the Scoobies at least accompanying her. I'll be having a talk with *them* later.

Before Dawn can argue, Angel speaks up. "I agree." He walks over to her. "Stay here where it's safer, Spike will get you home, where you *should* be at this hour, anyway."

"I'll call you when I get home," he offers. That seems to satisfy her, because she nods. "I'll see you," he says, hugging her briefly, before walking out.

I made the wrong decision. I had the chance to have the kind of relationship I've always *wanted* with my sire and I let it slip away. I know it wouldn't have been easy, but he wanted to try! Fuck, I'm such an idiot.

"I'm fine," I shrug. "So, I thought the watcher was watching you tonight. What are you doing wandering around the cemetery alone this late?"

"You could've come along with someone," I reply. "And don't gimme that 'I'm fifteen and I'm not a kid anymore' bollocks, Brat. Don't you know it would have killed me if something had happened to you? It would've been *my* fault."

"Why? Because I don't say it?" I wonder, hopping up to sit on the tomb. She joins me. "Bloody hell, Dawn, I'm a demon. A soul-less one at that. Just because I'm not as vocal about my emotions as my pouf of a sire, doesn't mean I don't have them. I *don't* drop by your house everyday because I like to torture myself with memories of... her." I look down at the floor with a sigh. Maybe some day I'll be able to say her name out loud again. "I do it because I want to make sure you're okay."

"I know that," she says. "I mean, I hoped that. I want us to be friends, Spike. You don't play games, like everyone else does. You say what you think and I feel like I can trust you to be honest with me. I like that."

I smile a little. "You've got the same qualities, Dawn. And bloody hell, if you're gonna make me say it, fine. We're friends." I growl. I'm pathetic.

"Sod off," I mumble. I look up at her and she's happy now. Well, good, I guess. Shit, she's got me wrapped around her little finger. "Okay, let's go. I'll walk you home. I'm sure the watcher's got the cavalry out hunting for you."

"I've got my cell phone with me," she says, putting a hand on my arm. "They'll try that, the moment they notice I'm gone. And it hasn't happened, so we've got time. I want to know happened tonight, Spike. What did Angel say to you?"

"He didn't really say much. He just happened to be there when I finally lost it." I shrug. "I used him as a punching bag and he let me. Then he got me to feed. Not much else to tell." Not even torture will get you the complete details, Dawn.

"I didn't say *that*," I reply, looking down again. "It still hurts like hell. But I know now that what I was doing the past couple weeks was hurting you and also backing out on my promise to your sister. I don't wanna do either of those things."

"That's *not* going to happen," she replies firmly. "And now that we've got that settled, I wish you'd tell me what *really* happened with Angel. I was pretty sure you hated him. But earlier, I didn't sense that. You two were acting... different. Strange."

Oh, if you *only* knew. You'd never look at either of us the same way again. "You're imagining things," I reply, looking up at her. "Or maybe it's just that we're both a little off, 'cuz of..."

She shakes her head. "It wasn't just that. You were acting uncomfortable around each other and that wouldn't just be from grief. I know both of you and this was something else."

"Spike, please, I don't want to go back there yet," she says. I look back at her and see the sadness in her eyes. Shit, of course she doesn't want to be in that house. "Everywhere I turn, I see them," she adds softly.

I sigh. "I know," I say, hopping back up on the tomb. This whole town is full of memories. Maybe it would be easier if we were elsewhere. "Dawn, how attached are you to the idea of staying in Sunnydale?"

"Why?" She asks. "Because you aren't sure you could deal with being that close to him? I mean, with all the hating his guts and everything?"

I chuckle. Yeah. That pretty much sums it up, better than you know, Kid. "Something like that," I agree. "But I'm starting to think that maybe it's worth a shot. Especially if being someplace different will help you. But it's completely up to you, Dawn. I'll go with you, if that's what you want. I'll stay here with you, if you'd rather stay. Or maybe you want to just go and live with Angel... without me?" Please don't take that last option.

"Spike!" She frowns. "I told you, already, I won't ever *not* need you around." I let out an audible sigh of relief and she smiles in response. She looks down at her hands then. She's obviously thinking about the other two options.

After several minutes, she looks up at me again. "I think I want to get off the hellmouth," she says. "But first, I want you to promise me some things," she adds.

"If you really hate it there, Spike, I want you to tell me. Because we're friends and I don't want you to be miserable. So promise you'll tell me."

She studies my face a few seconds, before she nods. "I was going to ask you that, too. Because this is my home and I might want to comeback. So... I guess we're going?"

"After we tell the others," I reply. They're not going to be happy about this, but hopefully we'll get them to agree eventually. Dawn nods and we walk out of the crypt.

I wander the cemetery for a while, doing some vampire slaying for old time's sake. I have about four hours before sunrise anyway, and the fighting helps me to clear my head. I reach my car about two hours later. I feel a little better now. I can accept the reality of the situation, at least. I should have known that Spike wouldn't want to come back to me. Too much water under the bridge. He *does* hate me and that's not very easy to get over.

"You know how it is, you see one vamp and you dust him. Then all his friends try to get revenge. I think they must've been young. Either that, or my reputation isn't what it used to be," I say, with a small smile.

"So... um, what are you two..." I trail off when I see two duffel bags at their feet. I look back up at Spike's face. I can't believe this is happening. "Are you taking me up on my offer?" I ask, trying to keep my voice from revealing too much emotion. I know Dawn has no clue what's really going on and it has to stay that way for a little while.

"We'll both sit in front," he offers. I smile. She's got him wrapped around his little finger. But I know she'll get me that way soon, as well, so I'm not going to gloat too much.

"That goes without saying," Spike replies. I can't help but chuckle at the shocked look he gives her, implying he can't believe she'd think he wanted anything different. I get in the driver's seat as they go around to the other side and get in beside me.

An hour later, Dawn's fallen asleep, leaning against me. I can't believe we're on our way to L.A. Possibly to live there for good. So far, I think having Dawn around will be helpful. She's a good buffer, a reason for us to keep things light and at least civil. She *is* our common ground. We both care about her. So, at the very least, we'll work together to keep her safe and happy. I may never be able to be his friend, or anything more. But if we can get to the point where we don't hate each other, that's a small improvement, at least.

I shrug. *There's a thin line between love and hate,* crosses my mind as I look out the window again. And to think, I never really understood that saying before tonight.