The Adventures of Captain Peroxide and Deadboy
The Angel/Spike Zone of the BtVS Writer's Guild
Nice Dream
Author: Evil Willow
Third story in as yet unnamed series. Thin Line is first:
Both should be read before you read this one.
Category: Story/Angst/Romance
Keywords/Warnings: Smut, slash and much angst.
Rating: Very much NC-17
Summary: hings seem to be going well between Angel and Spike. But can
that happiness last?
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me. Otherwise that whole bizarre
thing between Spike and Buffy would *never* have happened.
Author's Notes: This has basically turned into an alternate season
three of Angel. After Buffy dies, Spike and Dawn come to live with
Angel in L.A. Angel and Spike have decided to resume the relationship
that ended when Angelus was souled.
As with the previous fics, this one is alternating POV, between Angel
and Spike. The asterisks set off the change in POV. This story starts
the night after the end of Lost Time
*********
Damn. I fell asleep. But I tend to do that after really amazing sex.
I roll over and reach for Spike, but he's not lying next to me. I
open my eyes and...he's not here.
WHY isn't he here? Why did he leave? Where the hell is he?
No. I won't panic. It would've been *nice*, if he'd still been here
when I woke up. But just because he isn't, that doesn't mean that
he's avoiding me. Or regretting what we did. It just means he's not
asleep. And decided to go somewhere else.
That shouldn't surprise me, either. He's always been mildly A.D.D. Or
extremely A.D.D., depending on who you ask. So he got bored, or
hungry, or wanted to see how Dawn was, or ...
Instead of brooding about it, I could just get up and go find him.
And then we can get that awkward 'wonder what he thinks about what
heppened last night' moment over sooner, rather than later.
Right. Good idea.
*********
I punch the bag and follow up with a quick kick, before glancing over
at the clock on the wall again. It's only eight o'clock. Five minutes
later than it was when I last looked. Fuck, I'm too much on edge.
I've got *hours* of mind-numbing boredom ahead of me, while Angel and
his humans go out to kill things.
And shit, it's not fair. *I* want to go kill things! I don't give a
damn if they're evil things, either. At least I'll be doing
*something* *close* to what I was made for!
And besides, it's been too bloody long since I've gone hunting with
my sire. Every time I think about it, I get this flutter of
anticipation in my stomach, thinking about how amazing it would be. I
remember how much fun it was, and how much fun we'd have after...
I start in on the punching bag again, but my heart isn't really in
it. I was hoping it would help calm me, but it's not enough. It won't
fight back, like B- like certain people used to. It doesn't try to
anticipate me, or make me anticipate it, or taunt me everytime I make
a mistake, so I'll prove I'm better than that, like Angelus did when
he was first training me how to fight. It just hangs there and lets
me beat it, while he looks at me with those big brown eyes that ask
why I hate him so mu--
"NO!" I scream and kick the bag so hard I break it free from it's
tether and send it flying across the room. Bloody HELL. I will NOT
think about that day, the day I broke every single rule in the
vampire rule-book. All for a stupid ring.
What the fuck was I *thinking*?
I'll tell you what: absolutely nothing. It was yet another impulsive
decision that I regretted after about ten seconds, but was too proud
to put a stop to. I couldn't admit I was wrong, not to myself and
*especially* not to Angelus. Not even when his screams made me feel
his pain as if *I* was the one with the pokers through my body. Not
even when I looked in his eyes and saw the apology he could never
bring himself to actually utter. As much as I wanted to just unchain
him and let him go, I couldn't. That would have been weak, and
weakness is one thing that Angelus hated. I had to prove to him that
I was a better vampire than he thought. So I didn't let go of my
plan, the one thing that would make everything better. I (pretended
that I) enjoyed his suffering, and waited for (dreaded) the moment
when it would all be over and I would no longer have to look at (get
a chance to be close to) him, ever again.
Shit, truth is I was fucking *thrilled* when his pet humans came
crashing into the place to rescue him. Hell, I *let* them save him,
didn't I? Sure, they put up a damn good fight, but back then they
wouldn't have really been a match for me. He wouldn't have been hard
to overpower, either, after all that blood loss. So yeah, I let him
go. I had accepted that there really was *no* *way* to be rid of the
pain his presence brought, because just the thought of his absence
made the pain a thousand times worse.
"STOP FUCKING THINKING ABOUT IT!" I yell.
*****
Okay. My first thought? He looks damn sexy beating the hell out of
that punching bag. He's only wearing skin-tight blue jeans, which
makes for quite a nice view.
But after a few seconds, I can tell there's more to this than just
letting off steam. He's really pissed off about something. My first
clue about that is when he hits the bag so hard it goes flying across
the room. I hope he's not mad at himself for having sex with me.
He walks over to the punching bag, and then screams "STOP FUCKIN'
THINKING ABOUT IT!" He then punches the wall, so hard I hear a few
bones crack.
"Spike!"
********
I whirl around to face Angel. He's standing there, at the foot of the
stairs, in just a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. He looks all
concerned, as he walks over to me. Maybe he's worried about my hand,
probably about something else, too. And as I look into those big
brown eyes, something inside me breaks. I try to rush past him,
intending to put some space between us until I can get a hold on my
emotions again. But he grabs my wrist as I try to get by.
"Let go," I growl, trying to pull free.
"I wasn't planning on making that mistake again," he says softly.
And without even thinking about it (as usual), I use my other fist to
punch him in the jaw. He grunts and steps back, and I yell, "Bloody
hell!" grabbing my hand. I think I broke it on his stupid face. "That
hurt!"
He chuckles and rubs his chin, as he looks at me with an amused
expression. "That's supposed to be *my* line."
Maybe it's the fact that smirk on his face reminds me of other not-so-
happy times he'd turn that look on me. Or maybe it's because I'm so
fucking mad right now. Whatever the reason, I hit him again.
*********
He's mad; that much is clear. But I don't think it's directed at
*me*. He was already upset long before I got down here. He just needs
something, or someone, to lash out at, to vent his anger or
frustration or pain. And I'm more than willing to be that someone, if
that's what he needs right now. If he's not in the mood to talk about
whatever's bothering him, then this is the best alternative to him
walking away.
So when he tries to punch me again, I dodge his fist and step back,
dropping into fighting stance. "That last one was lucky; you caught
me by surprise," I say. "You're gonna have to try harder than that if
you hope to land another punch."
"Hope??" he says with a grin. "You think I can't take you?" He throws
a few more punches which I block easily. I taught him well, but I
*did* still teach him. His technique hasn't changed so much in the
last century that I can't anticipate and prepare for his next moves.
I shrug. "Are you trying yet?" I challenge, and get punched in the
gut for my display of ego. I grab his wrist quickly, though, and yank
him to me, twisting his arm behind his back as I lock my other arm
around his neck. "Now what?" I wonder.
He grunts as he grabs my arm and tries to pull it away. "I didn't
give up yet," he says.
"Fuck!" I yell when he kicks my feet out from under me and then
pushes back, sending me to the floor on my back with him on top of
me. He elbows me in the ribs and then rolls away, quickly jumping to
his feet again. I'm up just a fraction of a second later, just in
time to block his ankle as he tries to kick me.
*********
I know what he's doing, sparring with me, trying to help me find an
outlet for all this pent-up emotion. I hate him (or something) for
knowing me so well, sensing what I need before I even fully figure it
out. But I guess it's better than him trying to get me to talk about
it. Especially when there's nothing *to* talk about.
And 'Liar, liar, pants on fire,' is what Dawn would say to that. When
I woke up this evening, the first thought that popped into my head
was to thank whatever gods are out there for us evil things that I
didn't dream all of this. The second thing that I realized is we have
a *hell* of a lot to talk about. And not just the things he's done to
*me*, but also the things I've done to him.
Even though he deserved all of it, because I was just getting him
back for the shit he did to me, we do still need to deal with it. But
not yet.
I'm not sure if I'll *ever* be ready to. I know I wasn't ready then,
while I lay there curled up against him, after he'd made me feel
things I hadn't felt in over a century. I wasn't ready to hear him
forgive me for things I *shouldn't* be forgiven for. Things I've done
that deserve nothing short of me being dust.
His fist makes contact with my chin, and knocks me back to the
present. That's a good thing, since I came down here to stop
thinking. And I'm still determined to do that.
*********
He glares at me, but that spark in his eyes remains, letting me know
it's not real anger. "Lucky shot," he mutters.
"You were distracted," I reply. "And that's one of the first lessons
I taught you," I remind him. "*Always* keep one hundred percent of
your concentration on your opponent."
"It was," he says, softly, but not soft enough.
I sigh, and drop my fists. "Spike--"
He growls and then lunges at me. He knocks me to the ground, and
straddles my hips. He gets a few punches in before I grab his wrists.
He growls and tries to pull free, but I just hold his wrists
tighter. "Now are you ready to give up?" I ask with a smile up at
him.
*********
Give up? Let's see... I've got my sire underneath me, and very
aroused. Why the hell would I give up, when things are going so well??
Call me love's bitch. Or lust's bitch. Whatever. But I can't *not*
take advantage of the situation. I attack his mouth with my own,
forcing my tongue past his teeth and shit, I can't get close enough
to him. I try to pull my wrists out of his grip, and he lets me,
wrapping his arms around my waist. If he held me any tighter, he'd be
breaking my ribs, but I don't give a shit. What matters is he wants
me, that last night wasn't just a fluke that he's brooded himself out
of repeating. Shit, I should have just stayed in the damn bed,
because *he's* what I needed. The only possible thing that would make
me stop thinking, stop wondering how the fucking hell we're really
going to make it work when there are so many reasons it *can't* work--
"Sire." I blink in surprise, unsure where that came from. He told me
last night he wanted us to be something different than before, not
just sire and childe. And I want that too. I do. But a part of me
also misses what we once had, that bond that made me hate him
sometimes, but not all of the time. A part of me wants to feel it
again, to be reminded that I belong to him.
But I would burn in hell before I told him that. Call it stupid but I
do have my pride. He hurt me when he left, whether he meant to or
not, and I don't want to give him that power again.
*********
"Sire" he moans, and the surprise in his eyes probably mirrors mine.
And then he pulls away. Not physically, but something changes in his
eyes. But I'm not planning on letting that happen. I capture his lips
in another kiss, partly because I could just kiss him forever, and
partly because he gets rather vocal during sex. I don't really want
the others hearing that. Dawn's the only one who even knows we're
together, so if the others heard, they might assume I'd lost my soul
again.
But I can't worry about that right now. I finally understand what he
wants, what he *needs*. Spike needs me, in a way I didn't think he
ever would again.
I break the kiss and smile at his lust-filled expression. "Stay
quiet," I order. "unless you want us to be interrupted before I've
fucked you so hard you'll be sore for a week."
********
Bloody hell. Yes, please! a voice inside me screams inwardly, and I
hate it. It's embarrassing, but I can't deny that it's a part of me:
wanting to belong to someone. To *him*. That first night he turned
me, he called me his. 'You're mine forever now,' he said. And it was
true, even when he --
Not going to think about those things. He's looking down at me, as if
he's waiting for an answer. A hint as to whether I'm going to start
fighting him rather than play willing submissive.
And when have I *ever* played the willing sub?
Rarely.
**********
He gets a mischievious look in his eyes, which gives me a hint of
what's coming, just before he bucks up against me, growling. He tries
to pull his wrists free, but I tighten my grip on them, and hold him
down. I understand him now, and I have no doubt of what he wants and
needs. He needs me to take control again, to remind him that, lovers
or not, I'm also his sire. And that means he's mine. And this time,
I'm not letting him go.
I watch him closely, though, because while I don't mind taking the
dominant role in our relationship, I also don't want to push it too
far. There were times after I lost my soul that I dominated him in a
way he didn't enjoy so much.
Probably shouldn't think about that right now, though. He seems
perfectly happy at the moment. He trusts me. Even after everything--
Stop. Thinking. Now.
Right.
I transfer his wrists to one hand, so I can have the other one free.
All the better to torture him with. I straddle his thighs, so he
won't be able to get out from under me, and then sit up so I can
touch him. I run my fingers down his chest, with a light enough touch
to make him squirm, gasp, whimper and moan. When I get close to his
cock, I change direction, moving back up again.
"Sire," he whimpers, bucking his hips up.
I lean down and kiss him, devouring his mouth again. He groans,
sucking on my tongue eagerly, making me groan and grind my hips
against his. He tries to pull his wrists free again, and I sit
up. "You *will* be quiet and you *will* be still, unless you want me
to leave you to get yourself off," I threaten, shifting into gameface
as I do.
He whimpers again and bites his lower lip, but goes still. I smile at
him, and kiss him again, possessively. And then I release his wrists,
and slip down his body, quickly. I nuzzle his cock, breathing in the
intoxicating scent of his desire. He gasps out something that sounds
suspiciously like a curse, and I chuckle. He has always been so
impatient, my Will.
And I know, this isn't exactly the usual way for me to dominate him,
but he's not complaining. And I can't help myself; it's as enjoyable
for me to give him pleasure as to receive it. And I doubt that will
ever change.
I look up into his eyes, and the need I see there tells me everything
I need to know. He doesn't regret wanting this, at least not right
now. And the present is all that matters.
"Angel... please..." he says, and I decide to stop making him wait.
He's been so good, after all. I slip into gameface and sink my fangs
into his thigh, which is enough to send him over the edge. He bucks
up against me and emits a muffled scream as he comes, grabbing my
head with one hand and pushing me closer, driving my fangs deeper
into the artery there. I drink deeply of his blood, and I look up at
him to see how on earth he didn't bring the entire gang down here
with the sound of his screams. And the answer is that he's jammed his
fist into his mouth to keep from drawing unwanted attention by his
continued screams of pleasure. His eyes are shut tight and his entire
body is shaking with the force of his climax.
Not giving him any time to come down from this orgasm, I gather some
of the semen that's spilled onto his stomach on my fingers and then
push them underneath him, seeking out his entrance. He pulls his legs
up and over my shoulders, and I take that as a yes. Still drinking
from him, I thrust three fingers inside his tight passage and find
his prostate, scratching it hard with a nail. I hear another muffled
scream, as he comes a second time. I manage to hold off my own orgasm
yet again, but only barely this time.
*********
Fuck. That was... Fuck. Really. Fucking. Amazing. I gasp when a
fingertip brushes over my prostrate again. Shit. He's still ...
god... "Angel..." Of course, with my hand still shoved in my mouth,
it sounds more like "Aaaell..."
"Mmm?" he mumbles against my thigh, and at that moment he touches me
just right again, and I ... well, okay, I whimper. But I'd never
admit it. Not even for a hundred mind-blowing orgasms. I glance down
at him, and he's smiling, I can tell by that sparkle in his eyes. And
I glare but that just makes him scratch his fingernail against my
prostrate *again*, making me bloody well whimper again.
Shit, *this* was what I needed: my sire to claim me. What would make
it absolutely perfect is if he'd fuck me already, because even though
his fingers are doing a pretty damn good job of it, it's nothing
compared to how it feels when his cock is inside me, filling me
completely while he stares down at me with that possessive look that
says "MINE" better than any words ever could.
Just as I'm trying to get words of my own to ask (beg, plead, nag)
him to do that, he's suddenly gone. Fangs and fingers, no longer
inside me. Before I can even blink, he's pulled my jeans up and re-
fastened them, and then jumped to his feet.
"Angel, *there* you are."
Fucking Wesley. He doesn't even spare me a glance, as he starts to
babble on and on. And I know he can't smell the sex in the room,
being a human, but talk about bloody *oblivious*. But that's how
Angel likes his humans.
I catch a few words - vision, vampires, save the humans, blah blah
blah - but I don't pay attention. None of it applies to me. I'll stay
home with the brat, we'll play a few card games or somethin' to amuse
ourselves, and the others can go have their fun. Not that I mind
being with Dawn, she's become like a little sister to me, and I'd do
anything for her. But I miss the hunting. I don't even care if I'd be
hunting my own kind; it's better than *nothing.* But of course my
wants don't matter, not in this world or any other, so I'll just go
find--
"W-- Spike, where are you going?"
Huh? I turn back to Angel. "To find Dawn, of course. Got hours of fun
to plan," I add, trying not to sound too bitter.
"You don't want to come with us?"
Again: Huh?
**********
That baffled look tells me I *haven't* treated him right, since he
got here. I've gone too long treating him like a ... like a servant,
or worse a slave, confined to the hotel, expected to babysit night
after night, with nothing to satisfy his need for the hunt. Well,
that changes tonight.
I turn to Wesley. "We'll be up in a minute," I tell him, hoping he'll
just go away and not argue. He gives me a look that's an argument in
and of itself, but nods to my relief and turns, going back upstairs.
I turn back to Spike, who's giving me a pretty suspicious look. "I
want you to join us, Spike."
"Why?" he says, still looking like he's trying to figure out what the
catch is.
"Because you're my childe and there's nobody else I'd rather have
covering my back," I answer.
He almost smiles, it reaches his eyes at least. But then he shakes
his head. "What about Dawn? We can't leave her alone, ya know."
"I wouldn't think of it," I say. "There's Caritas, a few blocks away.
It's a bar, but I know the owner and I'm sure he'd let her hang out
there. And it's a safe haven, there a spell preventing demon violence
inside. So she'd be as safe there as if one of us were watching her."
He thinks about it a second, before nodding. "Only if she's okay with
it," he says.
"That goes without saying," I agree.
"Angel!" Gunn opens the door and yells. "Come *on* man!"
"Right behind you," I say, and follow Spike up the stairs.
*********
An hour later
"Where exactly do ya think this tunnel goes?" Spike wonders.
"I hope it's a dead end," I say.
"I don't, because then that means we'll find that monster. Do we
*always* have to catch them?" Fred replies nervously from behind
me. "Why can't we chase it out of the city, instead? It didn't look
too easy to kill, whatever it was."
"It's a Pokra," Spike replies. "And you kill it like you would most
things, keep hitting it til it stops moving. Just don't let it bite
you. Like a snake, it'll put this stuff into your system that'll
paralyze you, and then it will carry you off to its nest, where all
little Kisroths eat you alive. You'll feel every second of it, too--
HEY!"
That yell was in response to me smacking him upside the head. "Spike,
stop it," I growl. The horrified look on Fred's face would have made
anyone *else* stop talking, but not Spike. Of *course* not.
"She *asked* me--"
"Sometimes - *most* times, they don't need to know all the gruesome
details!" I reply. "Now-"
"Hush," Wesley whispers. "Did you hear that?"
In the silence, we *all* hear the howl. "All right, I think it's
reached the end of the tunnel," I say. "You three," looking at Gunn,
Fred, and Wesley, "stay behind Spike and myself. If it gets past us,
shoot it with the crossbows, but do *not* get close enough for it to
bite you. Understand?" They nod, and I turn to Spike. "Ready?"
"Are you kiddin' me?" he says with a grin. "This is the kinda stuff I
live for."
I can't help smiling in response. It's nice having him by my side
again. "Let's go kill it then."
He nods, and tears off down the tunnel in a run. Fuck. "Spike, stop,
damn it!" I yell as I run after him. I hear the sound of an axe
tearing into soft flesh, and then the shriek of the creature, before
I catch up.
I end up in an opening, a "room" of a sort, and damn it *is* a Pokra.
It looks like a snake, in the head anyway. It walks on two legs
though, and the body looks almost human. The arms end in very sharp
claws, which it lunges at Spike with. He jumps back, and I run
forward, slashing at its neck with my sword.
It shrieks again, and turns on me. It jumps at me, and I dodge to the
side, only to realize I've gotten myself into a corner. Shit.
"Angel!" Spike yells and before I realize what's happening, he's
shoved me out of the way.
"Spike, --"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Spike's scream sends chills down my spine. I leap to my feet, and see
the Pokra on top of him. "NOOOOOOOO!" I yell, running over to
them. "YOU BASTARD! GET OFF HIM!" I start slashing away at it, not
caring where, just wanting it to die. It hurt my boy, and it has to
die. I keep stabbing and slashing until it stops moving. Then I raise
my arms again, and bring the blade down one last time, severing the
head.
*******
This is not fucking happening to me. It's all a bad dream. I'm going
to wake up, any minute now, and I'll still be in Angel's bed. And
then the day will go the way it was *supposed* to. We'll talk a
little, fuck a lot, and eventually get out of bed.
But not this. I am *not* paralyzed. Not again. I couldn't survive
that again. I just have to wake up, that's all.
Fuck Spike WAKE UP!
"Spike," Angel kneels down beside me. Just pinch me, Angel, wake me
up, tell me it was all a bad dream. *Please*.
"Angel, are you--"
"Spike," Angel tells them. "He got bitten."
"Well, now *that's* ironic," Wesley replies.
"Shut the fuck up, Wesley," Angel growls. "He was being a pain in the
ass but he didn't deserve this!"
You tell 'em, Angel. I feel a little better, with him protecting me.
And it won't be *that* bad, this time. He's not Angelus; he won't
treat me like I'm not good for anything but-- He'll help me. He won't
hurt me. Maybe I can survive it, and it can't last *that* long.
"That's... that's not what I meant," Wesley says. Like hell he
didn't. "When we get back to the Hyperion I'll start doing research
into the cure for the Pokra poison."
Angel nods, still looking at me. "Spike, can you move at all, can you
feel anything?" he asks, touching my face with his hand. I can feel
it, but I can't let him know. I can't talk, I try to move my head, my
arms, my legs... nothing. Shit. I can't even move or blink my eyes.
Like I told Fred. You can feel everything, you just can't move. This
is worse than before. Because before, I was completely numb from the
waist down, and couldn't move my legs. Now I'm not numb anywhere, but
I can't move a single muscle in my body. Wake up, Spike. Just wake
up!
"I have to make sure your back or neck isn't broken," he says. He
puts his hand under my head, and checks my spine as best as he
can. "Everything seems to be aligned properly," he says. He turns me
onto my side, and continues pressing his fingers down my spine. I can
feel every touch, thank god. "Okay," he gives a sigh of
relief. "Nothing that getting this poison out of you won't fix," he
says with a smile. Then he lifts me, carefully, adding, "And don't
worry, Spike, we *will* fix this, *soon*." From the look in his eyes
it's clear he knows how much this is killing me. And then he starts
carrying me down the tunnel.
**********
"You drive," I say to Wesley as I toss him the keys. He and Gunn and
Fred get in front, and I put Spike into the back seat before getting
in next to him. I pull him back against my chest, and look into his
eyes.
I swear I can see in them how devastated he is. I hope he's not
thinking about the last time he was paralyzed but how can he *not*
be? I am. I was never as cruel to him as I was during those weeks. I
could have cured him, at any time, if I'd just fed him my blood. But
I didn't. I wanted him to suffer, and I made sure he did.
I'm trying to remember what I've read and heard about the effects of
Pokra bites. I know that the poison paralyzes you, but I don't think
it has a numbing effect. Which isn't good, if he's in pain. Shit, he
better not be in pain.
"As soon as I get you home, and Wesley starts researching, I'll go
get Dawn," I tell him.
Damn it, I hate this. I miss hearing his voice. Even when he's being
a smart ass at least he always lets me know what's on his mind. But
now... the silence is deafening. "We'll fix this," I promise him
again.
We reach the hotel, and I get out of the car, before lifting him
again. I take him inside and up the stairs, ignoring Cordelia's
questions. I don't want to do anything right now except try to make
him feel as comfortable as possible. I take him into my room and lay
him on the bed.
"I wish I knew what you were thinking, Will," I tell him. "Does this
hurt?" I ask, brushing my fingers over the tear in his shirt which
shows the wound from the bite. "It should be me lying here. Why did
you jump in to save me like that? That's not the way it was supposed
to go. I'm supposed to protect *you*..."
I sigh and get to my feet. "I'm sure that if you could talk you'd
tell me to stop talking, and go get Dawn. So I will. I'll tell her
what happened, and try to keep her from worrying about you. But I
won't be able to stop her, you know. She'll hover, and you'll just
have to put up with it because I won't be able to stop her either.
It'll just mean you have to get better fast, Spike, because she needs
you. Hell, I need you. And another reason you *have* to get better
soon is this. I'm making a fool of myself, and I can't help it.
Because when you can't talk, I talk *way* too much," I add. I see
laughter in his eyes, or maybe it's just my imagination. "I will be
*right* back," I say, before I turn to go.
**********
"You're sure he's all right?" Dawn asks for about the millionth time,
as we walk up the stairs to my room.
"I told you, Dawn, he's fine. Or as fine as he can possibly be at the
moment. And he'll be more fine, as soon as we figure out a way to
make him better. Which will happen any minute now, because Wes is a
genius with spells and potions and--" It's only when she turns a
puzzled look on me that I realize I'm babbling in a way usually
reserved for Fred. And I've been doing it ever since he got hurt.
I motion her to go on inside, saying, "Don't let the blood alarm you,
Dawn. He's not... I just didn't get a chance to clean him up."
She nods, and then walks inside. "Spike? Spike, are you all right?"
She goes over to sit next to him, and then looks at me. "I know he
can't talk, but I can't ...can he hear me?"
"From what I've read about the effects of the toxin, he can. He's
just paralyzed."
"*Just*," she says with a frown, "I'm sure that sucks enough."
Right. I open my mouth to say something, but she's not paying any
attention to me. She's started to tell him about *her* night, and
suddenly I feel like I'm intruding. They've gotten so close since
Buffy's death, but I guess they were good friends even before that.
I'm glad, for both of their sakes, that they have each other. I know
for a fact she kept Spike alive, I bet he did the same for her.
I guess I'll run down to see how Wesley's doing with the research.
It's better than standing here feeling helpless.
*****
She's scared, I can tell by her voice and the way she keeps looking
at me. She's trying to pretend otherwise, but she's being *too*
happy. Like she was when she would drop by the crypt after B-
after... She'd always babble on about stuff then, too.
I wish I could tell her I'm all right. It pisses me off to no end not
to be able to. How can I protect her, when I can't move? What if
someone shows up, someone who Angel and his humans can't fight? I
fucking *hate* this helpless feeling!
"I think you'd like it, I mean... you'd make fun of all the awful
singing, but the demon who owns it, he says he can tell stuff about
your future when you sing. I thought about singing, but... I don't
know. I'm not sure I want to know my future. How great can it really
be?"
Damn it. This is when I'm supposed to distract her, take her mind off
her sister. Where the hell is Angel? The plan was that he would
*help* me with this, and now when he's needed he isn't here!
She shakes her head. "You're thinking, 'Snap out of it, Dawn, moping
won't help anything.' And you'd say it if you could, and then we'd
play a game of poker, and you'd make me forget all about how sucky my
life is..." She frowns. "God, Spike, I'm sorry. I'm being such a
whiner, when I meant to cheer *you* up."
Angel appears in the doorway. "Hey, Dawnie, Wesley could use help
going through his books. He said he's got a lot of ground to cover,
and the more eyes, the better."
"I can *definitely* research," Dawn says, looking relieved at the
opportunity to *do* something. She stands and hesitates, looking back
at me, then at him. "But Spike--"
"I'll stay here with him," he says. "I was ... kicked out of the
office," he shrugs. "But I'm sure he'll welcome your help."
"I'll definitely do my best," Dawn says. She frowns. "But why were
you kicked out of the office?"
"Well..." he sighs. "He said my sighing and pacing was getting on his
nerves, and I was too distracted to be any help to him." His
embarrassed expression is just priceless, and I don't mind knowing
he's worried about me.
I notice Dawn roll her eyes. "Don't let him get to you, Angel, he's
just jealous," she says.
"What?" Angel looks totally confused. "What makes you say that?"
Oblivious, thy name is Angel. I can't believe Dawn picked up on it
though. It's *so* not bloody fair that *I* can't have any part of
this conversation. I've sensed that possessiveness about the ex-
watcher since the day Dawn and I got here.
"Angel, it's *so* obvious!" Dawn says. That's my girl. "Look, I'm not
an expert on guys liking guys, but I am an expert on crushes. And
Wesley *definitely* has a crush on you." And he'd have to be an
idiot not to suspect how you feel about Spike. So he's jealous."
"I... Dawn, I don't think...I mean, Wesley... he doesn't..."
"Look, it's not a big deal, Angel. I thought you knew already. I
gotta go." And then she leaves the room.
Angel stares after her for a moment, shaking his head. He turns back
to me and says, "Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm glad you
can't talk. Because you'd just take this theory of Dawn's and run
with it."
It's not just a theory, Angelus. And I don't plan on forgetting it,
either. When I *do* get my voice back, we'll discuss it as much as I
want.
*****
He looks like he's smiling. "I know what you're thinking, Spike," I
say, walking over and sitting down next to him. "You're thinking
you'll be able to talk soon enough. And that's true, but we *aren't*
going to discuss Wesley's supposed feelings for me. A, there *are* no
feelings, and B, it's just... we're not going to talk about it."
At least not right now, and later.... well, I'll just get him to
forget about it, or distract him when that time comes. "So... I guess
I'll get you out of these clothes and find out if you have any
injuries." I should've done that earlier, but I guess I'm not
thinking too clearly.
I pull his t-shirt up, and then pull one arm and then the other out
of the sleeves, before lifting his head and pulling it the rest of
the way off. All I see is the nasty bite on his chest from the Pokra.
I run my hands along his chest, with a slight pressure, checking for
broken ribs. I don't feel any. No breaks in his arms or hands, or
fingers. I move all the joints, to see if I hear anything suspicious.
Luckily I don't. I checked his neck before I moved him earlier.
"Did I thank you?" I ask, as I unbutton his jeans and then pull them
off. I hate this silence. I hate being the one who has to talk. He's
the one who likes to talk; I like to listen to him. "I don't think I
did... but I'm grateful. I *knew* you'd watch my back. I just
wish..."
I check his legs, nothing broken there. And damn it, I am *not*
getting turned on. He can't move, he can't do *anything*, and I will
*not* ... I stand up and walk into the bathroom. Get a grip on
yourself. Spike needs you, but not that way. That would be *so*
completely wrong, and there will not be a repeat of last time. You
can't let him think that.
I start a bath for him, trying to get myself under control. I am
*not* a teenager, and I do have self control. Usually. Except I never
had much, when it came to him. But it's never to late to change that.
*****
Okay... I don't know what's going on. He was babbling, but I didn't
mind. At least with him talking, I'm not left alone to think. I
didn't mind him touching me, either. I guess he can't tell that, when
my cock doesn't respond; but it would, if it could. And *he* didn't
mind touching me either; I could smell his arousal. But then he was
gone.
Oh. *That's* why he looked so upset when he ran off. Damn it,
Angelus, stop beating yourself up for not being perfect. I trust you;
more than you do, I guess.
He walks out of the bathroom, and sits next to me. "I thought maybe a
bath would be a good idea," he says, not looking me in the eye. Then
he lifts me in his arms, carefully, and carries me into the
bathroom. "I hope the water's okay," he says, frowning. "Shit, I
didn't even think of that. Maybe this isn't a good idea, because you
can't tell me if it's too hot or too cold--"
He stops himself, and thank the gods, because he's giving me a
headache with the mother hen act. "I tested the water temperature
five times, it's fine. I'm sure it's fine."
Well, I'm glad we got that settled. He lowers me into the water, and
the temperature is perfect. He leans me back against one end of the
tub and grabs a washcloth. "Wesley hasn't found anything yet," he
says, as he starts to wash me gently. "At least nothing about the
effects of the poison on demons. On humans... " he shrugs and looks
me in the eyes finally. "That's not important, because your - our -
bodies work differently, of course."
Damn it, Angel, just tell me what you know!
He looks away, for a second, before looking back at me. "There was a
man, a human, who was saved from a Pokra. After twenty-four hours, he
died. His heart stopped, I imagine from the toxin. Well, on the
bright side that won't be an issue for you," he adds, with a fake
smile. "And it doesn't matter that we haven't come up with a cure
yet. We *will*, within the next twenty-four hours. I promise you
that."
I believe he means it, but I also think he's probably in denial. If
there weren't any demons before me that survived the Pokra bite, then
how is Wesley going to cure *me*? I wasn't really worried til now,
just highly pissed off. I didn't realize there wouldn't be a cure, or
else I wouldn't have put my ass on the line for -- No. That's not
true. I would jump in front of any fucking danger that threatened
him, because he's my sire.
He slides the washcloth down my stomach, but completely avoids my
cock. Bloody hell, Angel! I haven't *once* minded you touching me,
since we ended up together again, why would I mind now? Just because
I'm paralyzed again, that *doesn't* mean I'm afraid of you!
Why can't he sense that?
He pulls me down so I'm lying in the water, putting one of his hands
under my neck to keep my face above water. "Gotta wash your hair," he
says, as if I need an explanation. Then he uses his free hand to
close my eyes. I have to be able to move soon. He's driving me bloody
insane!
*****
I wash his hair quickly, and then sit him back up. I open his eyes,
because I don't like not seeing them. Not when he's practically de-
No, I will *not* think like that. "So I guess I'll dry you off," I
say and then I sigh. "Am I driving you as crazy as I'm driving
myself?"
I lean him back against the end of the tub. Don't fall. I pull the
stopper out of the drain, and then pick him up. I stand him up, with
an arms around his waist, while I grab a towel off the shelf. Then I
wrap him in it and carry him into the bedroom.
I set him on the bed, pulling him against me, and start to dry him
off. "I'm sorry if I'm annoying you, Spike, but I'm just not sure
what to do here. I'm trying to act normal, but what's normal in this
situation? I figured you'd want me to talk to you, but maybe that's
the problem. I'm just not that good at talking, it ends up
sounding... like this. So I know this won't work, but I don't know
what else to do. I remember how much you hate silence, so... "
I've got it.
I lay him back down, covering him with a sheet before standing. I
thought about dressing him, but decided not to bother. We'll go to
bed soon, and he never sleeps with anything on. "I'll be right back,
Spike."
*****
While Angel's gone, I try to will myself to move. I have to, because
I've decided I can *not* survive being paralyzed. Either the boredom,
or Angel having a nervous breakdown will make me insane as Drusilla.
And I'm not going to end up like that.
Shit, come on. *One* muscle, come the fuck ON!
"Music?" Angel asks as he walks in carrying one of my bags. "What is
this..." I'd roll my eyes if I could, he looks so completely confused
as he sorts through my CD's. It's called good music, Angel, something
you wouldn't know if it bit you in the arse.
"Whatever, I'm just going to assume that you like all of them, since
you brought them with you," he says. "Of course that means *I*
won't," he mutters, not softly enough. He sighs, as if he's being
tortured but I do *not* feel sorry for him. After all the bloody
operas and ballets he made me sit through over the years, this
doesn't even *begin* to make us even.
He puts in a CD. Okay, maybe I will survive, if he'll let me listen
to my music. He makes a face as he turns around and like I said, the
man has no taste. Anyone who doesn't appreciate the genius of the Sex
Pistols is hopeless. But maybe if he *has* to listen, it'll grow on
him?
One can hope it works that way.
He lets out another "life is so unfair" sigh as he sits back down
next to me. Well he isn't getting pity from me, that's for sure. He
picks up a book and leans back against the headboard, with another
pitiful sigh. And I think I prefer the nervous babbling to the
annoying sighing.
I love this CD, though. It reminds me of the concert Dru and I went
to, years ago. It was at an outdoor place, and it was so easy to
seduce away a good meal or two into the shadows during the concert.
And maybe it was the effect of the drugs the humans were on, when we
fed, but Dru was happier then than I remember her being most times. I
don't think it was just the drugs though, at least I hope not. I like
to think we had some good times, for her as well as me.
Damn, I miss her. I know I made a choice when I kept her from hurting
Buffy, and I know I hurt her when I did. But I don't regret it,
either. Dru and I had been over for a long time before Angelus walked
back into our lives, it's just that neither of us wanted to admit it.
I guess it shouldn't surprise me that we didn't last. It's rare, for
a vampire couple to last for more than a century. I just hope she's
okay, and that she's found someone who can make her happy.
I wonder what she'd think if she knew about Angel and me? She
probably wouldn't be surprised. She always thought - no, she *knew*
how I felt about him. And it never bothered her. My being with other
girls bothered her, but not my being with Angelus. I never understood
that. I *hated* it when he'd fuck her; I didn't want to share her
with him.
I guess if I let myself think about it enough, I would figure it out,
but I don't think I want to figure it out. There are some things I
don't want to analyze too closely and my feelings about Angelus are
just one of those things. I have a sense that on that subject
ignorance would be bliss.
*****
Okay, this isn't all *that* bad. Well, the music is. It's horrible.
But I'll make the sacrifice and tolerate it, for Will's sake. He
seems calmer. Probably my imagination, but I don't really have much
else to go on at the moment. What's nice is just being here, with
him,
There were moments like these in the past, usually when Drusilla and
Darla were elsewhere. I'd be in the library sitting on the couch,
reading, and he'd wander in. He'd claim to be bored, rather than
admitting he wanted to be near me. I always knew the truth, however,
but what was the point in irritating him by gloating about it? He
would get a book of his own and curl up next to me, with his head in
my lap.
Of course the times were rare when I felt like ignoring my desires
for him, and vice versa, so within minutes we were usually doing
things *other* than reading. And shit, that was *not* a memory I
needed. Not now. We're just supposed to be sitting here relaxing, and
I am *not* supposed to be getting an erection thinking about how
incredible his mouth feels - fuck.
I have to stop doing this. I can't give him any reason to be afraid
of me. Not when he's just starting to trust me again, and let me into
his life. But shit, how can I make myself stop wanting him? It's just
not possible!
I just have to remove myself from the temptation then. I get up and
go into the bathroom. Maybe a shower. A *cold* shower. I hate myself
for leaving him, but I don't know what else to do. If I stayed, he
would have realized how aroused I was. And that might have made him
remember... and I will do *anything* to keep him from remembering
that.
I turn on the faucet, using only cold water, and step under the
spray. Shit, that's cold. But it's taking care of my problem. I
shampoo my hair quickly as I start to shiver. I won't torture myself
too long, not to mention that I refuse to leave Will alone for longer
than necessary.
I turn off the shower and grab a towel. The "music", and I use that
term very loosely, is still playing. Does he listen to that shit just
because he knows I hate it? That can't be the reason. Maybe it's just
all part of his rebel image. He's been perfecting *that* since day
one. I never would have dreamed that the soft-spoken, shy young man
would turn into the rebellious, arrogant, opinionated vampire lying
out there who has made me angrier than anyone else ever has. Yet he's
lived to tell about it because I also fell for him the night I met
him and nothing he has done over the years has changed that fact one
bit.
No, I am *not* getting turned on again. I just need to think about
something unpleasant. Like the years in hell... oh yeah, that worked
perfectly. Why didn't I think of that sooner?
I go out to the bedroom, and get a pair of boxer shorts from my
dresser, pulling them on. I usually sleep nude, but I don't think
that would be a good idea tonight. The intention is to make him feel
comfortable and safe around me. So this way, if I get hard, there'll
be some clothing between us to make him less worried about it.
*****
Is he planning on running away every time he gets a hard-on? Because
if he is, he's going to spend a fucking lot of time in that damn
bathroom. It has to stop, but I don't know how to make it. I can't
very well reason with him, and he just won't even let himself think
logically about this.
So this is how it's going to be? He won't touch me, unless he has to,
and that is so fucking *not* what I want. I need his touch, and
always have. Maybe it's because he's my sire. Or maybe it's because
he never has talked much, but I know everything's okay by the way he
touches me. When we used to hunt together, sometimes he'd take my
hand in his. When we're alone and I sit next to him, he either puts
an arm around my waist or a hand on my thigh, depending on his mood.
When we go to bed, he pulls me against him and keeps an arm around my
waist. In all our years together it's been when he didn't want to
touch me that I would start to worry. When Angelus made his
appearance in Sunnydale, he reminded me of that. He wasn't
affectionate, couldn't stand being anwhere near me usually. In fact,
he would only touch me as much as necessary to get me underneath him
so he could fuck me.
So no, Angel, I don't want you *not* to touch me. If anything it's
*that* that makes me nervous. Even though I know you would go to hell
again before you hurt me.
He looks at me for another couple of seconds, and then he walks
toward the balcony. Fine, brood somewhere else for a while, it'll
give me a chance to relax for a change.
Or not. He appears next to the bed again. "The sun will be up soon, I
didn't realize it was that late," he says. "You should sleep, the
more rest you get the faster you'll get better," he adds, turning off
the CD player.
He walks over and sits on the bed. "Maybe I should sleep on the
couch," he says. "You might be more comfortable... " Right, that
makes complete sense, when anytime I've ever been hurt in the past, I
wanted to sleep in his bed. Damn it, Angel, will you just think???
He nods to himself, apparently I'm not going to get a say in the
matter. "It'll be better." Better for who? I'm not going to get any
sleep this way, and you KNOW that! Or you should.
Shit. This is isn't just infuriating, it's *wrong*. Angel *isn't*
this oblivious when it comes to me. He's my sire; he *knows* me
better than I know myself. He's never had any problem figuring out
what I wanted, what I needed, without even needing me to tell him.
But now, he's doing practically everything wrong, and I don't get it.
He's so caught up in his own feelings that he's... what? Figuring I'm
feeling the same things? Because he's having to deal with memories of
the last time I was paralyzed, I must having those memories too? But
if I *was*, he would sense my fear. Maybe he's just not bothering to
think about that.
I don't know, I hate thinking this much. I like to be active. Keeps
me from too much brooding. I am getting tired, guess I'll try to
sleep. I hope I can.
*****
I wheel into the living room, hoping to find Dru. She's not in here,
but *he* is. I'll just leave before he--
"Spike."
Fuck. I turn around again. "Sire. I didn't mean to disturb you. I was
looking for Dru." I try to get a hint from his face what kind of mood
he is in, but I can't tell anything. And that's usually not good.
"She went out to dance with the trees or some nonsense like that," he
says and motions me to come closer. I do, reluctantly, knowing that
refusing would only bring immediate punishment. "How's your back?"
"No change," I lie. I started to get feeling back yesterday, so I've
been standing occasionally, trying to get my strength back. I'm not
going to tell him that, however. If he knew, he'd want me to help
with the "open the hellmouth" scheme. And unlike him, I'm *not*
completely psychotic.
"Really," he says as he walks over. And the way he's looking at me
makes me look for the nearest possible exit. "Still no feeling below
the waist?" Fucking hell, I do *not* like that look in his eye. Dru,
where *are* you?
"No," I say. "So what are you doing?" I ask, hoping I can get his
mind on other things.
"I've finished all the preparations for waking Acathla," he says. "So
I wasn't doing much of anything, other than getting bored. Something
you've remedied," he adds with a grin. Bloody fucking hell. "Even
now when you can't move, you're still good for one thing, aren't you,
Spike? Well, *two* things, to be exact."
Shit. Dru, get in here, because this is the worst possible time for
him to be horny again. At least before I got my feeling back, it
didn't hurt when he fucked me, but he wasn't gentle and shit this is
gonna hurt like hell.
He grabs me by one arm and tosses me on the floor, face down. "At
least I don't have to worry about hurting you," he says, as he kneels
behind me and yanks my jeans down. "Do I?" he asks.
Shit, shit, shit, shit! "Course not," I say, and then grit my teeth.
Don't scream. You'll fuck up everything, not to mention he'll just
hurt you worse. Just don't scream.
I feel his cock pressing against my hole and I am going to put a
stake through his heart, before this week is over. Bastard. "What are
you afraid of?" he asks, in that smug voice that tells me he suspects
I've been lying to him. "It won't hurt, because you can't feel
anything yet. Right, *Will*?"
"Right," I say, and damn you, don't use that name, you don't have the
right to use that name! Just get it over with and leave me alone
again!
He does, pushing inside me so fast I bite my tongue to keep from
screaming. Shit, I always forget how fucking big he is. But I won't
let him know he's tearing me apart inside and I feel every second of
it. I'll survive this, like I've survived everything else he's ever
done to me. And then I'll get my revenge.
"Will?"
Stop it! Just finish and leave me alone!
"Will, wake up. Will? Come on. You must have had a dream." He opens
my eyes and looks into them, and he's so worried. Now I remember. I'm
in L.A. with Angel; Angelus has been gone for years. It must be the
fact that I'm paralyzed again that made me think of those horrible
days when he came back.
"Are you all right?" he asks. "I sensed... .I sensed you were upset,"
he says. Gee, thanks Angel for trying not to injure my pride, but I
know you smelled the fear all over me, if you woke up and then felt
the need to wake *me* up. I'm grateful for the dream though, because
at least it got you in this bed and acting like my *sire* again,
trying to comfort me. Now stay right there, and we'll both sleep
better.
*****
He seems to be all right. In fact, his fear is subsiding, now that
I've woken him up. I don't have to wonder what he was dreaming about.
Even if I don't know the specifics, I'm sure it had something to do
with him being paralyzed, back in Sunnydale, and the horrible way I
treated him.
But if he's not afraid anymore, that means he doesn't completely
associate me with those memories. That's a relief. And I should go
now, and let him get back to sleep. But I don't want to. It feels
right to lie here holding him, and it seems to have calmed him. That
shouldn't surprise me; in the past when he was upset he always wanted
me nearby.
Shit, I'm such an idiot. Spike knows the difference between me
without a soul and me with a soul, better than anyone. And if I were
without a soul, he would be terrified of me. But I'm not, and he
knows that, because he's *not* terrified of me. In fact, he probably
wants me to hold him and comfort him. Therefore, I'm such an idiot.
"Spike, I'm so sorry," I say. "I don't think I've been acting very
intelligently. But I've been so worried about how being paralyzed was
making you feel... that I've been ignoring what I know. I promise
I'll try to trust my instincts more. Starting with the fact that I'll
sleep in this bed the rest of the day."
I kiss him gently. I haven't done that since before he got hurt. I
didn't think he'd want me to, but that was another case of me being
an idiot. "Sweet dreams, Will," I say, closing his eyes and pulling
him close.
*****
Bloody hell, it's a miracle. Just in time too, because I was going to
start wishing for a stray bolt of lightning or something to end my
misery before I went crazy. But this is more like it. I would die
before admitting this to anyone, but I sleep better when I'm in his
arms.
And I am absolutely exhausted. I hope I *will* have sweeter dreams,
the rest of the day.
*****
Oh, now *this* is a much better way to wake up. I don't know what
time it is, except that since I'm hungry it must be around sunset.
Angel's still in bed, one arm across my waist and his hard-on pressed
against my hip.
If I could move, I'd take his cock in my hands, or maybe in my mouth,
and wake *him* up. I used to like to do that, wake him up with a good
orgasm. He always enjoyed it too.
"Will..." he says softly. "Are you awake? Because you're either
daydreaming, or just dreaming... and in either case, it's a much
better dream than earlier."
Yeah, and too bad you can't get me to tell you what it was about,
Angel.
He opens my eyes and says, "You haven't gotten any movement back yet,
have you?"
I try. Head, neck, arms, legs... nothing. Fucking hell. And I'm
hungry, but I have to try not to think about that. Can't move a
muscle, can't drink either.
He sighs. "I'll run downstairs and talk to the others. I'm sure
they've found the cure by now." He doesn't sound as optimistic as his
words did, but I'll give him points for trying. He get up and pulls
on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, before leaving.
*****
I walk downstairs to the office. They're all here, researching
intently. All except Dawn, that is. She's curled up on the couch
asleep, an open book by her hand.
"She just fell asleep ten minutes ago," Cordelia whispers, from her
spot on the couch next to her. She stifles a yawn. "I told her to go
to sleep a long time ago, but she is impossible to argue with."
I nod, smiling. I've noticed that too. Just like her sister is-- was.
Maybe I should move her? No, I'll just leave her be. I don't want to
risk waking her up.
"Anything?" I ask softly.
They all shake their heads. "There don't seem to be any recorded
cases of survivors," Wesley replies softly. "And we're down to the
last of the books, Angel."
"Well then we'll just have to get more books," I reply.
"Right, and if those don't provide us an answer either, then what?"
Wesley asks.
"Then we'll keep looking," I say.
"For how long?" he retorts, and he seems angry or irritated.
"For as long as it *takes*, of course." I reply. "Spike is paralyzed
and we *have* to find the cure for the toxin."
"Why?" he asks.
"WHY?!" I yell. "Wesley, what is your problem? Spike got hurt helping
us defeat that demon, why *wouldn't* we cure him?"
"We tried, Angel, using the best assortment of resources possible. I
just think there are more worthwhile things to be doing with our time-
-"
I slam my fist down on the desk, and he falls silent. I take a deep
breath, trying to control my instinct to leap across the desk and do
something I will regret later. "I wasn't aware we were choosing who
we would help, based on how *worthy* they were," I say softly. "Where
was I when this was decided?"
"Angel, I'm sure that's not what he meant," Fred speaks up from
behind me.
"I'm talking to Wesley," I reply, never taking my eyes off him. "and
I'm waiting for his answer to my question."
To his credit, he doesn't look away from my eyes. "My point is that
we have received three calls today from people - humans - who are in
need of our assistance," he says, holding up three notes. "And I
don't think we should ignore them."
"Wes, you know I wouldn't ignore people who need us. And we can do
that *and* help Spike, at the same time. So don't use that as an
excuse. Tell me - tell all of us - what's *really* on your mind. You
don't want to help Spike, because he's a *demon*. That's it, isn't
it?" I ask. "Would you feel the same way if it were me up in that
bed?"
"Of course not," he answers. "That would be a completely different
situation."
"How would it be any different?" I wonder. "Spike is a member of this
team--"
"No he isn't!" He says. "He's a murdering demon, Angel. He is not one
of us and he never will be."
"He is a member of this team, Wesley, because I brought him here. And
you don't get a say in that. But if you can't accept that; if you
can't treat him as you would treat anyone else here, then *you* are
no longer a part of the team."
He's silent for a minute, as is everyone else. I can see surprise in
his eyes, he wasn't expecting that. I can also see anger. He's sure
he's right and I'm wrong, but he won't back down about this. "I can't
accept Spike being a member of this team, Angel. He has done nothing
but murder, torture and destroy for over a hundred years. The only
reason that is no longer the case is because he *has* to, due to the
computer chip in his brain. He would kill us all if he could."
"You're right about *one* thing," I reply. "He didn't ask for the
computer chip that forces him not to hurt people, but *I* didn't ask
to be cursed with a soul either."
"But you wouldn't wish to be *unsouled*," Wesley replies.
"*Now* I don't," I shrug. "But I did for over a hundred years. I
learned to live with it, just as Spike has learned to accept the
chip. Funny thing, it took him much less time to adapt and start
helping people who needed him than it took me."
He frowns and I can tell my words got to him. But knowing him, he's
too proud to admit it. He shakes his head, I hate being right
sometimes. He stands up and goes to the door. Then he stops and looks
back at me. "You're making a mistake trusting him, Angel. It'll lead
to disaster and I refuse to wait around for that. I'll come back for
my things later."
And then he's gone.
"He's wrong." Dawn says. We woke her up arguing. "Spike *has*
changed."
"I know that," I say, walking over and sitting by her. "Well? Anyone
else want to leave?" I ask, looking at the others.
Cordelia shakes her head. "I trust you, Angel. If you say he's not
going to hurt anyone, I believe you."
"Thank you, Cordy," I say with a sigh of relief. "You won't regret
staying, I promise you. How about you, Gunn? Fred?"
"I'm staying," Fred says.
"Me too," Gunn adds.
"Good," I say. "So.... if we're not getting anywhere with the books,
any suggestions?"
"Well, maybe it's too early for this," Fred says, "but we could
just... test some cures?" she says. "Just antibiotics, things that
wouldn't harm him. But it's up to you, of course," she adds.
No, it's up to him, and he can't tell us what he thinks about that
option. I just can't face it yet though. Using him as a guinea pig?
Experimenting on him? No, it's too much like what those soldiers did
to him.
"Let's exhaust the research before we think about anything like
that," I answer. "Not that it isn't an option," I add. "I'm very
grateful to you - all of you - for staying and trying to help Spike.
And I have no intention of ignoring the other calls we get while
we're working on that cure." I walk over to the messages. "Gunn and I
will go take care of these," I add, looking over them before handing
them to him. All minor demon problems, nothing we can't handle. "That
is if you three don't mind hanging out here and continuing the
research?" I ask them.
"I'm enjoying the vision free day so far," Cordelia replies. "I'll
help Dawn read, while Fred does her girl genius thing."
"You should take a nap at some point, Dawn," I tell her.
"I'm *not* tired," she argues.
"You obviously are, because you *were* asleep," I reply. "Please get
at least a couple hours. Spike doesn't want you to risk your health
for him."
She sighs. "Fine. But just two hours, and then I'm coming back down
to help." She gets up and goes upstairs.
"I'll be back in a minute, and we can go," I tell Gunn. I leave the
office and go upstairs to my room. I don't know how I'm going to
break the bad news to Spike, and I'm not looking forward to it. But I
have to, he deserves to know what's going on.
*****
Angel walks in, and the look on his face answers my question. No
cure. "I have to go out for a while," he says as he gets a black
shirt out of his closet and pulls it on. "Dawn's taking a nap. I made
her promise to do that, when I found out she hasn't slept yet."
He sits down next to me. "I guess I should get you dressed, she'll
probably want to check on you later." He's acting distracted, not
really looking at me. He's got something big on his mind. Something
happened. Maybe he argued with one of his humans about something.
Like me? Yeah, *right*, nice dream, Spike. Truth is he would never
risk letting them guess how he feels about me. So it's probably
something else bothering him.
He pulls the sheet down off my body, and I don't miss the way he
looks me over. He then grabs my black jeans and pulls them on me.
Then he goes to the closet, finds my black t-shirt, and red button
down shirt. He sits down again, and puts them on me. "They haven't
found a cure yet, Spike, but they're still looking. And... " another
sigh, bloody hell. He looks away and says, "If I don't tell you, Dawn
will. Wesley's gone. He ... he quit. Or maybe I fired him. I'm not
sure. We got in an argument, and it happened so fast, I'm still
trying to figure it out."
Well. I wonder which it was, did Angel sack the jerk or did he throw
a temper tantrum about something and walk out? Whatever the case, I
say good riddance. Wesley acted like *he* was in charge, and it got
on my last nerve.
"I'm not upset about it, though," Angel says, looking back at me. "If
he won't accept you as part of the team, then he isn't welcome
working with us."
Part of "the team"? When did that happen? And holy shit, that means I
*was* the reason. They argued about me, and Angel defended me. In
front of everyone, probably. I can't believe it. And I can't wait to
hear the *whole* story from Dawn when she wakes up.
"I really need you to get better, Spike," he says. "I will always
need your help fighting, but I need it more now that Wesley is gone.
And I need you to deal with Dawn... I'm not good at that. I think she
prefers it when *you* tell her what to do. She definitely doesn't
listen to me as willingly." He shrugs, "But I don't just want you to
come back so you can cover my back and handle Dawn. I miss you," he
says. Right, enough sappy stuff, go save the world, Angel.
Not quite yet I guess. He leans down and kisses me, and fuck I really
miss being able to kiss him back. And other things... Shit, now I'm
horny. And so is he. Usually this leads to sex, but now isn't a usual
situation. And to be honest, I'm a little pissed off about that. I've
had time to think about it, and I don't think I'd mind if he wanted
to fuck me. I know he wouldn't hurt me. But his stupid soul is
probably making him feel guilty about even thinking about it, so it's
not gonna happen.
"I should go," he says. Just like I thought. "I'll be back as soon as
I can." He walks over to the CD player, putting another of my CD's
in. "I hope you don't get too bored," he adds with a sigh, before
leaving.
I can't get any more bored than I already am, Angel. At least I don't
think I can. I hope I'm not wrong.
******
Three hours later.
I was wrong. But thank god for smart sixteen year old girls. Dawn
came in an hour ago, realized there was a serious lack of things for
me to do, and came back with a telly. I don't know where she got it,
but it was a stroke of genius. There's always *something* on.
Like Dawson's Creek. Another thing Dawn's good for. She gives me an
excuse to watch shows that otherwise I'd be mocked for watching.
Well, *now* anyway. Before the chip, everyone knew they'd be killed
if they dared mock me.
"She's *such* a moron!!" Dawn yells, in response to Joey dumping
Pacey for the hundredth time. Yeah, he can do better than her. But I
understand why he keeps going back for more. He's love's bitch too.
He's home. I hear his footsteps coming up the stairs, and I'm
relieved. I was a little worried about him. But I know I shouldn't
have been; he's been taking care of himself for almost a century
without me.
"Hey Angel, I brought the television in for Spike," Dawn says as he
walks in.
"We have a television in the hotel?" he asks. That's exactly what my
first reaction was.
"I was exploring the basement, when I saw it there," she
replies. "And it works, so I figured it'll keep Spike happy while he
can't move or anything."
"I'm sure he appreciates it, Dawn. I'm glad you thought of it." He
comes over and sits down and I can tell there's something on his mind
again. "Spike, I was talking to Fred. I don't want you to starve
while we're trying to get you well. So she suggested we set up an IV,
to keep blood in your system. And maybe the fresh blood will help you
get better faster. So Gunn's out getting the supplies, and then Fred
will set up the IV."
Well, it's definitely better than starving, but I'm not thrilled
about being hooked up to a blood bag. I guess we don't have any other
options, though.
He gets up and goes into the bathroom. I hear the shower running
after a minute, so I focus my attention on the show. "You'll be
better in no time and complaining about the nasty taste of cow blood
again," Dawn says without looking away from the television. I'd smile
if I could. She always knows the absolute right thing to say.
*****
*****
Three Days Later
I wake with a start when I sense his fear. "Spike, I'm here. It was a
dream," I tell him, pulling him against me and wrapping my arms
around him. "You're safe, I won't let anything happen to you." I hate
this. Every day he has at least one nightmare, the memories of the
last time he was paralyzed seem to be returning with a vengeance. And
then every night, I've had to listen to the silence and look into his
eyes while I try to keep him from thinking too much. I just know this
is killing him, and that knowledge is killing me.
But I can't do anything about it. I'm as helpless as he is, and it
makes me furious. The others have read so many books on demons that
they're experts on everything. Everything except how to cure Spike of
this paralysis. And he hasn't gotten better, at all, in five days.
The IV is giving him blood, so he won't starve. But it didn't seem to
do any good, otherwise, not even with human blood. So a couple nights
ago, I decided it was time to do something I *didn't* do for him last
time. I dumped the blood out of the blood bag before I hung it on the
IV stand, then cut my wrist, filling the bag with my own blood.
Sire's blood would have healed him last time, I just hope it'll do
the same this time.
His fear is lessening, to my relief. "I'm right here, Will," I say
again. "Try to go back to sleep." I rub his back with one hand,
trying to calm him enough so he can sleep again. I hate that I caused
that fear. I wish I hadn't lashed out at him like that. It wasn't his
fault that I fell in love with him. I shouldn't have punished *him*
for it.
Well, I'm wide awake now, but I'll stay here with him if it'll help
him sleep. I ease him onto his back and gasp in surprise. "Why are
your eyes open? It can't be easy to sleep that way," I say. I know I
shut them earlier. I reach up to shut them, and he blinks. Shit. Did
I see that?
"Spike?" I ask. "Did you ... did you do that on purpose?"
Another blink. Oh my god, is this real? No, don't get your hopes up.
It might not be something he can control. Oh shit, *please* let it
mean that he's getting muscle control back. "Spike... " I touch his
cheek. "Do it again."
I wait for what seems like hours. And then I let out the breath I was
holding when he blinks. The little shit, making me wait and worry
that maybe I'd imagined it all. "Again," I request. And he does.
"Oh god Spike, I was starting to think--" No. I won't finish that
sentence. This is incredibly good news, and I'm going to be happy. It
means he'll be better soon."Once for yes twice for no, okay?"
One blink.
"Are you in pain?" I ask.
Two blinks.
"Good," I say, and then I realize have the most absurd smile on my
face; but I can't help it. "I... shit, I don't know what else to ask
you," I say, shaking my head. "I am just so relieved that the
paralysis is starting to go away. I should go tell Dawn," I add,
getting out of bed.
No.
"No?" I reply, sitting back down. "No, you don't want me to get
Dawn?"
No.
"Not yet, you mean?" I ask.
Yes.
"Okay," I say, "I guess there isn't any rush. Do you want to go back
to sleep?"
No.
Twenty questions is going to get old. But no, I will not complain. At
least we're talking, in a sense. It's better than the silence, *that*
was absolutely unbearable. "So... what *do* you want to do?" I ask,
and I know he won't be able to answer... Or maybe he can. He can move
his eyes, I realize, as he shifts his gaze down my body to my groin.
Fuck, I understood that answer perfectly. I'm getting hard in
response, and my boxers won't hide that when he can smell the desire
on me.
He looks back into my eyes and I can see the question in his. "I want
you, Spike. You know I do." God, I want him so much it hurts. "But I
don't... I won't take advantage of you."
No.
Is he agreeing with me? Probably. I turn on my side, pulling him
against me. "But I guess if I kissed you, I wouldn't be taking
advantage of you if you wanted me to," I add.
*****
Bloody hell yes.
He smiles and kisses me, gently, nibbling on my lower lip. He strokes
my cheek with one hand, and this is really more fucking like it. His
tongue slides into my mouth, and damn I hate not being able to kiss
him back. It's not right when I can't. But it's better than nothing.
I want him so much, I have for days. He's been so damn oblivious
though, even though the scent of our desire has been in this room to
the point where it's overwhelming me. I don't know how he can ignore
it so easily.
I would have been hard for days, too, if I weren't paralyzed. He's
hard now, against my hip, and that just makes it worse for me. I
really want to touch him, taste him, but I bet that would never occur
to him.
He pulls away enough to talk. "I want to touch you, Will. I've been
resisting the urge to do that, because I would never do anything
without knowing it was something you wanted. I'm asking you now if it
is something you want."
Fuck yes.
He smiles, and pushes me onto my back, and then slides the hand that
was on my cheek down to my chest. My skin feels like it's on fire
everywhere he touches me. Shit. He rubs one of my nipples until it's
hard, and then he pinches it, roughly. Fuck fuck *fuck.* Then he
moves to the other one, tormenting me even more. It's torture, but
it's such sweet torture I wouldn't even think of stopping him. He
knows just how to touch me to make me scream. Under normal
situations, of course.
He leans in and nuzzles my throat and damn, I have never wanted him
to drink from me more than I do right now. But knowing him, he won't
do that. Not when I'm still so far from being healed completely. But
even a little... SHIT! He bit down, not hard enough to draw blood,
but hard enough to mark me. It's like he read my mind, and that
shouldn't surprise me. He *does* know what I like.
He lifts his head after another minute, and runs his hand down over
my stomach. Yes, I tell him, just in case he's having second
thoughts. Fucking *touch* me, damn it! He nods and then I swear I
should be coming so hard, just from feeling his hand on my cock. He
strokes me, firmly enough to cause the friction that I like, all the
while watching my eyes. Fuck, yes, this is what I wanted. Well, that
and feeling him inside me, but I'll take what I can get.
"I love you, Will," he says. "I need you to get well again, so I can
make love to you like I've been wanting to do for days." Shit, the
arousal in the air, from both of us, is overwhelming. And the tension
keeps building, until, even though I don't want him to stop, I *need*
him to. There's a point when pleasure becomes pain, and that's fine,
but then there's also a point when the pain blocks out the pleasure.
And I'm there. I blink no, and he stills his hand.
"I understand," he says, pulling his hand away. "I hate this, Will,
probably as much, or maybe even more than you do. I want to be able
to make you come, and hear you scream my name. And besides that, I
just miss talking to you. I would give anything to hear your voice
again. Even when you're being a pain in the ass at least you keep
things interesting," he says with a smile. "And this is when you
would probably say stop brooding, right?"
Damn right, and that's what I tell him, with a blink.
*****
I sigh, even though he did say stop brooding. "Sorry," I say, as I
sit up. I know he hates those sighs. "I should go take a shower."
No. He said no. "No? Why not?" He gives me this very exasperated
look, and I say, "Right, I know we can't have in depth conversations
yet. Sorry. I just really suck at guessing games, Spike. But if I
have to guess, I'd say you don't want me to go anywhere?"
Yes. He doesn't want to be left alone, and that's understandable.
He's probably been so lonely, the past several days. Even though I've
been here, it's not the same when he can't communicate with me.
"Okay, I guess I don't really need a shower right this minute," I
reply. I was really just using that as an excuse, anyway, because I
need to come. And if I could get a minute to myself... but that's not
fair to Spike. I won't be that selfish, I'll just ignore it.
I crawl back under the sheet and curl up next to him, sliding an arm
across his waist. "Better?"
Yes. Well, I'm not complaining either, especially when I don't get
this opportunity often. He usually doesn't like cuddling. He used to
need physical affection from me, to the point that it got on my
nerves. But I guess my being absent for so long changed that for him.
He learned not to need me.
"Do you want to watch TV?" I ask.
No.
"Well, I hope you don't want me to *talk*, Spike," I say. "Haven't
you figured out how horrible I am at that?"
Yes. Smart ass. I can't help laughing, though, and I haven't done
that since... I guess it was before he was bitten.
"Well, I'm glad you still have your sense of humor," I say with a
smile. I lean in to kiss him again, and I could definitely do *this*
for hours. Even though it would be better if he could kiss me back.
It would be *perfect* then. And I also can't wait until I can stroke
him to hardness, and hear his moans and whimpers, and heavy
breathing. And being able to make him come repeatedly, until he begs
me to stop.
I break the kiss and try to think about something else. It's making
me even harder, and it's already painful enough. I'm sure it's
difficult for him too, not to be able to come when I can sense his
desire so strongly.
The phone rings, but I'll just let Cordelia get it. As far as they
know, I'm still sound asleep and I plan to let them think that for
several more hours. "I *could* tell you about what we've been working
on the last couple of days, I guess," I tell Spike. "If you're
interested."
Yes.
"It's funny, you know, you can go centuries without ever running into
vampires you used to know, but I guess when you live as long as me
it's bound to happen eventually. Did I ever mention Elizabeth and
James?"
No.
"They were ... friends, I suppose you'd say, of myself and Darla.
Long before Drusilla or you. The vision Cordy had last night were
vampires crashing a party at a college dorm. We got there, and chased
down the vampires. One of them was Elizabeth. James wasn't anywhere
around, but I'm sure he was in L.A. with her. They were pretty
inseparable. He'll be coming for me if he finds out that I was the
one who staked his lover. Gunn and Wes are doing what they can to
find out where he is, so we can take care of him before he comes
looking for me here. I don't want to put Dawn - and you - in that
kind of danger."
"ANGEL!"
That's Cordelia, and she's afraid. I get out of bed, running
downstairs. Shit, that just figures, he did track me here. "James. I
didn't think you'd be smart enough to find me," I say, looking
around. Cordelia's nowhere in sight; she must have hidden. Smart
girl.
"WHY'D YOU DO IT?!" he yells as he charges me. I duck the first
punch, but then he gets me in the jaw, knocking me off balance. He
tackles me to the floor and I elbow him in the ribs, making him let
go. I jump to my feet and grab him by the shoulders, tossing him
across the lobby.
Stake, I need a -- "ANGEL!" Cordelia throws me a crossbow. That'll
work, too.
"CORDELIA RUN AND HIDE!" I order her, before I turn back to James.
FUCK where is he?! I can't let him get upstairs, to Dawn, Fred, or
Spike. SHIT!
"BEHIND YOU!" Cordelia screams. I turn, but a second too late. He
knocks the crossbow out of my hand, and tackles me again. This is
getting old. Something flies at him, a fire extinguisher. It hits him
on the head, dazing him enough so I can kick him off me.
"Cordelia, I *told* you--"
"Shut up and stake him already!" she yells, throwing me a stake.
SHIT. James caught it. "Oops!" she adds. Right, oops. He lunges at
me, with the stake, and I grab it too, trying to wrestle it out of
his hands.
"You never loved anyone, or anything!" he yells. "Go to hell!"
"I've... been there," I reply. "Not planning on going back anytime...
soon." I look around, for something, anything I can use as a weapon,
but most of my attention is focused on the pointy, wooden object
aimed at my heart.
Cordelia grabs him around the neck, and I yell. "NO, Cordy!" He
flings her off of him like a rag doll and I grab the stake, burying
it in his chest.
I run over to Cordelia, who went flying into the glass doors of the
weapon case, shattering them as she fell. "Are you all right?" I ask.
She's got a few cuts, but she gets to her feet all right.
"Ouch, but yeah, I'll live," she nods, brushing the glass off.
"Shit, Cordelia, I appreciate the help, but he could've killed you,"
I say. "Next time listen to me when I tell you to do something! But
thank god *he's* gone, so no real harm done this time."
"Angel, your aim must've been off," she says, pointing behind me.
I turn to look, and James gets to his feet and pulls the stake out of
his heart. "It wasn't," I say. Shit, this is bad. What does he have
that's keeping him alive? A spell? He's not wearing anything that
looks like it might be a mystical power source. I run at him, and
throw him out toward the garden. The glass shatters, as he falls into
the sunlight, but he doesn't burst into flames.
"Basement, now!" I yell, turning back to Cordelia. My only hope now
is that he'll follow us, not knowing about Fred, Dawn, and Spike
upstairs.
*****
FUCK. This isn't right. Angel's down there, maybe in trouble, and I
can't help him! Damn it, why can't I MOVE?!
"Spike?" Dawn asks quietly as she comes inside. "Angel, and some
vampire, and Cordelia..." She winces at the loud crashing noise. "I
know, you can't do anything, but I wanted to be in here with you. I'm
sure it'll be fine," she adds, but she's not fooling anyone; she's
worried. "Angel won't let him get anywhere near us--"
Another crash, glass breaking, and then everything's silent.
Dawn looks to the doorway. "What happened? Do you think I should go
check?"
NO! I blink twice. Do NOT go downstairs, it's not safe until we *see*
Angel and he tells us it's okay.
"Oh my god, you blinked!" she says. Right, I forgot she didn't know
about it. "That's great! You can communicate now, right? And you
blinked twice; I bet that's a no. You want me to stay here."
Yes.
"Oh, this is so great!" she says with a smile as she sits down next
to me. "You're getting better, I just *knew* you'd recover completely
when Angel told me he'd decided to start giving you his--" She gasps,
and shuts her mouth. "So... I should probably lock that door, and put
a chair or two in front of it."
She gets up and goes back to the door, shoving a chair in front of
it, and another chair in front of that. "There, that should...
totally help, right? Evil vampires hate blocked doors," she says. She
shrugs as she walks back into the bedroom. "It's the best that I can
do, though."
He's giving me his *what*, Dawn? Shit, if only I could TALK! How is
she so sure I'm going to recover completely? What would Angel have
that could heal me... Fuck me, it's the blood. Here I thought it was
just normal human blood, and it's *his*. That's *got* to be it. It's
what I knew would've healed me back in Sunnyhell. He knew it too. And
now he's trying to make up for it? Is that it? Shit, Angel, you'd
*better* be feeding enough to make up for that blood loss. I don't
want to be the reason *you* get hurt, anymore than you wanted to be
the reason *I* was hurt.
"So... oh god, Fred. Shouldn't I go make sure she's okay?" Dawn asks.
Shit, no, but... I won't be *that* selfish. Yes, I tell her. Be
careful though, Dawn.
"I'll be careful," she says, reading my mind. "I... hm, wonder if
Angel keeps any weapons hidden around here, or ..." She wanders
around, checking drawers and boxes, before she gets to the closet.
She kneels down, and gasps. Oh wow. I don't want to know what all
this stuff is for," she says, as she rummages through something. A
box? "This bottle ... has to be holy water though. No reason for it
to be anything else." She gets to her feet and shows it to me. Shit,
I recognize that bottle. He kept it in that bloody "toy chest" of
his... Shit, Angelus, we're gonna have a talk about that, when I
*can* talk. "Mr. I'm perfectly normal now that I have a soul" has a
few kinky secrets.
"I'll be back, with Fred," she tells me. She walks back to the door,
pulling the chairs away from it, before leaving.
I listen carefully for any signs of trouble, but there's nothing. No
Angel either, so I hope that means he lured James out of the hotel. I
try to sense his presence, but I don't feel it. He just left, then.
He's *not* dust on the lobby floor, I would have felt *that*, if it
happened. I felt his pain when he got sucked into hell, at first,
because I was focused on sensing him. I needed to know that he was
really gone. And then I blocked it out by refusing to think about
him. He was gone, and I told myself I was glad. I hated him.
I wonder sometimes if all childer can sense when their sires are in
pain. I could never ask Dru, because she was never all there enough
to have a deep conversation like that. I could ask Angel if he ever
felt that with Darla, but I won't. That would mean he'd know *I* can
feel it, and he'd probably take it to mean something important. And
I'm not ready for any more important discussions with him. We've been
doing good, taking things one day at a time, not over-analyzing what
we're doing. I don't want to risk fucking it all up by changing that.
Dawn and Fred walk in. "Fred called Gunn. He and Lorne are on their
way. They were trying to find out about this vampire they were
looking for," Dawn tells me. "You're never going to believe this,
Spike, but the guy got a *heart* transplant. It'll make him
invincible, but luckily for us only for six hours. It would have
taken him at least two hours to recover from the operation enough to
be able to walk around. So ... as long as Angel can just keep him
busy, he'll die on his own."
"Dawn! Fred!" That's Gunn.
"I'll be right back," Dawn says to me before they run out of the
room.
Great. So this psycho vampire who's after Angel is invincible for six
hours. Six hours from when? And what if-- No. I won't think about
that. Angel has survived *all* kinds of horrible things, hell even,
and he'll survive this. I just have to ... what. Wait? Yeah, cuz I'm
*so* good at *that.*
*****
He's on top of the train. "Ssh," I tell Cordelia.
"No way, he *isn't*--"
I shove her behind me as he crashes through a window in the back of
the train. "Get back, Cordy!" I yell. PLEASE listen to me this time!
"Well, *this* is a new twist in an old snake," James says as he walks
up to me. "Is it possible you care about someone who isn't you?"
"Don't worry about her," I tell James, hoping he believes me as I try
to pretend I don't care about Cordelia.
"But if you've changed," James says. "If you aren't the same man who
screwed Darla and couldn't care less what happened to her..."
"Where did you hear... Oh. You mean back in the day. Right," I shrug.
"He has changed," Cordelia says from right behind me. DAMN it,
woman! "A lot. He has a soul now and he cares about people."
"So you might feel something when I snap her neck," James says with a
grin.
"Well, it's not like he's losing sleep with the caring," Cordelia
replies nervously.
"Lucky me," James says with a laugh. "Now *I* can kill the woman
*you* love."
"No, you can't," I tell him.
"Are you forgetting who's the invincible one here?" he asks.
"The woman I love - loved - is dead," I explain.
"Who are you talking about?" he asks, clearly puzzled as he looks
behind me to Cordelia, and then back to me.
"It happened about three months ago," Cordelia answers. "We try not
to say her name too much."
"*You* loved someone - with all your heart," James says, still
obviously not believing this at all.
"Yeah," I answer, nodding. In fact I have loved *two* someones that
way. One died saving the world, and the other one is lying paralyzed
in my bed because he saved *me.*
"No you didn't," James replies. "Because if you had, you wouldn't be
standing here playing games with me. You wouldn't be able to -
because once she died or some bastard killed her, it would have
killed everything in you!"
And he's right. If Buffy had been the only one, if I hadn't also felt
that way - and even stronger about Spike, then "I wouldn't be able to
go on living."
"Don't worry, you won't," he says with a smile. "And she won't
either," he adds, nodding at Cordelia. He grabs a seat, and hits me
with it, catching me by surprise.
"ANGEL!" Cordelia yells.
"Damn it, Cordy, get AWAY from this!" I yell, turning to her. He hits
me again, knocking me back toward her.
"Catch him!" I holler at her, ignoring her question of who to catch,
as I grab the crutches of a man standing there. She'll figure it out,
she always does. I jump to my feet, and walk toward James.
"You think you can take me?" I ask him. "Come on, then!" I slam one
of the crutches into him, and he goes flying into the wall of the
train.
"How's that, invincible boy?" I say as I break one of the crutches
over his head, knocking him to the floor. "Is that your idea of love,
James, hmm? It's not real unless it kills, you?" God, he reminds me
of how *I* used to be, with Buffy. I used to think my love for her
was everything that mattered. And I *did* love her, because she was
everything good in the world, everything *I* wanted to be. I ignored
my feelings for Spike, because he wasn't "good." Just like Wesley, I
believed Spike wasn't worthy, when the truth is *I* was the one who
wasn't worthy of *him.*
I watch him roll over, panting, and get to his feet, slowly. He's
fading. Any minute now, this will be over. "Yeah," he nods. "What's
yours? It's fun as long as it doesn't cost me anything? - You don't
know what love is!" He falls back to the floor on his knees and
adds. "You think you won - just because you're still alive? I lived.
You just existed."
"You don't know me, James," I tell him as I throw the other crutch to
the ground. "Not who I am now. I *was* that selfish vampire who
didn't care about anything but himself, but I've changed. I've known
love, and not just with one person. I have friends who I love, and
who love me. And I found someone else, after the woman I loved died.
Someone else I love, someone who gave me a reason to keep living.
"So yeah, I *have* won," I add, looking into his miserable
face. "I've known more love than you ever did."
He crumbles to dust, and I fall into the nearest seat. "So, that was
fun, huh?" I say looking up at Cordelia. I put my hand to my left
side, wincing. He broke a few ribs, but I'll survive.
She's staring at me, surprise on her face.
"What?" I ask. The train comes to a stop and I motion her to the
door.
"I'm just trying to figure out who this mysterious someone is, who
you've fallen for," she replies, turning to study my face.
Oh. Yeah. I totally forgot Cordy was there when I said all that about
Spike. I didn't mention his name, at least. That's a relief. It's not
the right time for us to tell the others about our relationship.
"Angel?" she says. "Come on, you can't *not* tell me!" she insists.
You wanna bet? "Later," I tell her. Much later.
"That's not fair!" she yells. "I'd tell you, if I was involved with
someone, why are you keeping your new girl a secret?"
I sigh as I point her down the tunnel that will take us back to the
basement. "It's complicated."
"Since when have you had a relationship that *wasn't*?" she asks.
Good point. "And why would telling us about it, make it *more*
complicated?"
"Cordelia, please," I say, following her up the ladder to the
basement. "I promise you, when *I* feel it's time, I'll tell you
everything. You're just going to have to accept that."
She frowns, but nods. "You're just no fun, you know that?"
"So I've been told," I reply. "Thank you, by the way."
"For what?" she asks.
"You probably saved my ass at least once today. Even though you
*should* have run and hid, when I *told* you to," I add.
"Yeah, right. When do I *ever* listen to what *you* say?" she teases
me as she heads up the stairs. I follow her, up to the lobby.
"Oh thank god you're okay!" Fred says as she sees us. "That was so
scary, hearing all the noise down here."
"I'm glad you stayed out of the way," I tell her. "James was out for
blood, and I just had to hold him off until he died on his own."
Gunn and Lorne walk out of the office. "I like the redecorating job,
Angelcakes," Lorne says. I look around, and for the first time
realize what a great job we did of breaking things. The back window
to the garden is shattered, glass everywhere. The weapons chest doors
are broken, from where James threw Cordelia into them. And just about
every chair is broken. In other words, it's been pretty much a
typical day in the life of the Angel Investigations team.
"How's Dawn?" I ask Fred.
"She's okay," she replies. "She went upstairs with Spike, she said
she felt safer there."
"I'll go tell her it's all over," I say, running upstairs. I open the
door and smile when I see them on the bed, watching television.
"Angel!" she yells when she sees me, running up and giving me a
hug. "Spike can blink, did you know that?"
I chuckle at her enthusiasm; it's nice to know I'm not the only one
so happy about it. "I know. It's wonderful."
"So is everything okay?" she asks.
I nod, walking over to sit next to Spike. His IV bag is empty, I'll
have to get another one ready for him. "Hey, Dawn, could you do me a
huge favor? I got kind of banged up, and I could use some blood. And
grab another bag for Spike."
"No problem," she says, running out of the room.
I look back at Spike. "I'm okay," I answer the question I know he'd
would ask first if he could. "A few broken ribs, but they'll mend in
a day or so." I lean down and kiss him quickly. "I missed you, I
really could've used your help. Next time, right?"
Yes.
"Were you worried?" I ask, as I get a pair of his jeans. I turn back
to him, waiting for an answer. Nothing. "Fine, don't answer," I
shrug. "It doesn't matter, I *know* you were," I say with a smile. I
pull the sheet down, and damn he's just perfect.
Later. Much later. I get the jeans on him, fastening them, not
thinking about touching him. Not thinking *too* much, anyway.
I look back into his eyes. "I am really hoping we can have a quiet
evening now for once," I tell him. "I just want to spend time with
you."
Yes. He wants that too. It's so nice to know.
"ANGEL!"
Shit, I guess we won't get that. "I'll be back as soon as I can," I
tell him as I head for the door again. I hate the disappointment in
his eyes; I feel the same way. But I can't deny my duty, and I know
he doesn't want that. He just wishes he could come with me.
Next time. Hopefully.
*****
Chapter Five
Two days later
I'm hooking another blood bag to the IV when I realize he's
awake. "Hey."
"An..."
He tried to talk. Holy shit. "Spike, can you talk?"
"Water," he whispers.
"Water?" I ask. Of course, his throat has to be dry... SHIT. "You
just nodded!" I say. Water, Angel. Get him water first. Then we'll
talk... oh god, we'll talk, and how long have I waited to hear his
voice?
I bring him a glass of water and he reaches out-- Okay, time for me
to sit down, before I drop it. "SPIKE!" I yell, "You're moving your
arm!"
He rolls his eyes as he sits up-- "Stop doing that!" I yell as I put
my hand on his back to steady him. "I mean, shit, don't stop, but
what the hell..." Okay, this is a dream, right? Don't wake me up if
it is, I don't want to wake up.
He drinks some of the water, before handing it back to me. "You gonna
faint on me?" he asks. And his voice is weak, but STILL he's talking!
"No, I just... I can't believe it. You can... you're..." I grab him
by the hips, pulling him onto my lap as I kiss him. Shit, I've been
dying to feel... oh fuck, he's kissing me back, and moaning. His
hands slide up my arms to my shoulders, and god, I can't believe it.
He's better. I was starting to worry, he hasn't been moving anything
but his eyes, and I am *so* damn relieved.
I pull away from the kiss reluctantly, and smile when I feel his cock
stirring to life against my stomach. "Well, if I had any doubts you
were recovering, I don't now," I say, smiling.
He chuckles. "Well, I think your blood did the trick."
What? How-- "How did you know?" I ask.
"Dawn... she let it slip a few days ago," he shrugs, looking
away. "And... thank you."
"You don't have to thank me," I say, stroking his cheek with one
hand. "I'm just so glad it helped you heal, Spike. God, I've missed
you."
He nods. "No kidding, you said it every bloody hour just about," he
grins. "But I wanna try to stand," he says, moving off me and
swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.
"Yeah, of course," I say. "You want help?"
*****
"NO," I say, but maybe a little too harshly. "I just... I need to try
to do this myself," I explain as I sit up. I pull the IV needle out
of my arm and pull myself up, but my legs give out and I sit back on
the bed. "Fucking hell."
"Spike, you're still weak," Angel says, sliding closer to me. "Don't
push yourself all at once."
"Angel, when have I ever been patient about anything?" I ask him.
He laughs. "Right, I forgot who I was talking to," he shrugs. He gets
up, returning with a mug. He fills it with the rest of the blood from
the IV bag. "Drink," he says. "Shouldn't let it go to waste."
I would never pass up the opportunity to drink his blood, so I take
the mug willingly. And yeah, that's the *good* stuff. I can feel the
power in it, not to mention it also *always* has the effect of
turning me on. Damn, I hate being predictable. But it's been almost a
week since I've been with him.
So what I should say is: 'So, can't walk, let's fuck instead'? Sure,
that's not needy at all.
"You sure you don't want me to help you stand up and walk around?" he
asks.
"No, I'll just give it time, I guess," I reply. That's as close as
he'll get to hearing me tell him he was right about taking it easy.
"What do you want to do then?" he asks. "Because, you know, we do
have several hours before the sun sets."
He says it so casually, but I know what he's getting at. I can't help
smiling as I look over at him. He wants me; I can sense it. Of course
I can't blame him, I'm pretty damn irresistable, or so I've been
told. "That's true."
He leans in to kiss me again. "And have I mentioned I've missed you?"
he adds.
"Hm.... think you might've mentioned it once or twice," I reply,
moving to straddle him. I kiss him, thrusting my tongue into his
mouth, smiling when he whimpers. "So what d'you wanna do about it?" I
ask.
*****
I lie back on the bed, pulling him with me, and wrap my arms around
his waist. "I can think of a few things we can do," I say. I roll us
over, and then nuzzle his throat. I bite down, not hard enough to
draw blood, and he whimpers, arching up toward me. "But the top one
on my list consists of me making you come so many times it'll make up
for all those days you couldn't."
I look up in time to see him raise an eyebrow. "What, I'm gonna say
no to that?" he asks.
I smile and then lick my way down his body to his chest, as I slide
my hand down to grasp his cock. "SHIT!" he yells, thrusting up into
my hand. "Angel..."
"Just relax, Will," I say, looking up at him. "Let me take care of
you." I lean down again to bite his nipple, and he groans, grabbing
my head. I start to stroke his cock firmly, as I lick my way back up
to his mouth, kissing him, possessively.
And the noises he makes, the groaning, the whimpering, they drive me
crazy. Shit, I really missed him. It's scary, but I can't remember
what my life was like without him in it, and I don't want to ever
*be* reminded of that.
He sucks on my tongue as I thrust it into his mouth. He's moving
again, thrusting into my hand, but I don't stop him. Hell, I haven't
felt his hands or heard his voice, in so long that he could do
anything now and I wouldn't mind.
"ANGEL!" he yells, tearing his mouth away. He needs release so
desperately, and I won't deny it to him. I slide my way down his body
and take his cock into my mouth. I suck him down my throat and work
my throat around him. "OHGOD!" he moans, grabbing my hair and bucking
up.
I hold his hips down as I start to purr and he screams my name again,
as he comes. I hope nobody heard that, but if they did, oh well. I
keep working my throat around him, drawing his orgasm out as long as
possible. And if I weren't holding him down he would have bucked me
off him from the intensity of his orgasm. As it is, he's breathing
heavily, trembling, and whimpering, and god, he's so sexy when he
comes. Well, okay, he's sexy *all* the damn time, but still. When he
comes, the intensity in his eyes is overwhelming. That's when I know
without a doubt that he cares about me, because I can see *that* in
his eyes.
He's never told me how he feels about me, other than when he wants
me. But I know he cares, he's just not as eager to say it. And I
can't blame him, I never did encourage public displays of affection,
or talk about love. Love wasn't for demons. Or so I insisted.
I'm so glad I realized how wrong I was about that.
I release his spent cock gently. He's still panting as he looks down
at me. "Holy shit," he gasps.
"I'll take that as a compliment," I chuckle as I crawl up his body
and kiss him. Fuck, I love kissing him. Hell, I love everything about
being with him, to be honest.
He pulls away from my lips and says, "Your turn," sliding a hand down
to my erection.
"God... " I moan.
******
"No, *Will*," I say with a grin before I scoot down the bed. And the
look on his face as he looks down at me is just fuckin' priceless.
Takes a while for him to realize what I have in mind. And I lick his
cock, from root to tip, just to give him a hint.
He whimpers. "Will, you don't--"
I take him down my throat, because I swear he can stop telling me
what I *don't* have to do anyday now.
"FUUUUUUCK!" he yells and I'm impressed that he doesn't just thrust
down my throat. Not that I'd mind... but I think I'll just keep that
to myself. "Shit..." he moans. He's just too damn fun when he can't
form a coherent sentence, and it's nice revenge for how incoherent he
makes *me*.
I grab his hips, guiding him down my throat, and then back again. He
whimpers, dropping his head onto one arm. Yeah, I know he wasn't
expecting this at all. Nice that I can still shock him every once in
a while.
"Shit, Will..." he says. "So good..."
"Mmm," I reply, making him whimper again. I guide him faster, and he
groans, the groan that tells me he's almost there. I shift, and just
barely prick him with my fangs, and --
"SHITWIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILL!" he screams, shooting his seed down my
throat. And he still manages to hold still. That's gotta be taking
every bit of self control he has. "Love you," he gasps, and I'll
never get tired of hearing that. It took him too fucking long to
decide to say it, but at least he finally *did*.
He rolls onto his back when I've finished licking him clean. And that
sigh. Aren't we done with sighing, Angelus? "Hey, no brooding in
this bed," I tell him, draping myself over his body. I kiss him
quickly, and add, "New rule," resting my chin on his chest and
looking at him.
He wraps his arms around my waist, sighing again. But that sigh was a
happy sigh, so I'll let it go. "Good rule," he says. "So... what
now?"
"Now we sleep," I tell him. "Need to regain my strength for round
two."
"Round two?" he squeaks. I made Angelus squeak. I feel him getting
hard against my hip, and that's okay, because I'm getting hard
myself. But it'll wait.
"Yeah," I nod. "Oh, did I forget to mention that? I'm not planning on
letting you out of this bed unless or until a vision *makes* me let
you out."
"Oh." The surprised/turned on look makes me smile. I rest my cheek on
his chest and close my eyes, actually welcoming sleep for once.
******
I wake up, smiling when I realize Spike is still lying on top of me.
I roll onto my side, easing him off gently, and then sit up. I have a
plan, and I'm going to start preparing for "round two" as he called
it while he's still asleep. I just hope The Powers take some pity on
us and give us *at least* a couple more hours to be together.
I walk into the bathroom, and I'm hoping he'll agree to my plans. A
long, hot bath together, and this time I won't have to keep myself
from touching him. I start running the water, getting it as hot as he
likes it, before walking back into the bedroom.
He's still asleep. Good. I open the closet door and pull the chest
out of the corner. I'm surprised he hasn't noticed it yet, but it's
just as well. I'm not sure how he'd react to knowing I've kept all
this stuff. Some things are more harmless, of course, like the
candles, and even I suppose the shackles. But other things I should
probably get rid of.
I haven't used the candles since... a while ago. And he'll roll his
eyes when he sees them, but he's as much a romantic as I am. I mean,
*he's* the poet.
I take them into the bathroom, and put a few on the floor by the
wall, a few on the sink. I light them, and then turn off the faucets.
I walk back into the bedroom, sitting down next to him. "Will," I
lean down to kiss him. "Wake up."
"Bloody hell, go away," he mumbles, turning away.
I can't help laughing. He's not a morning - or day - or an evening
person either, for that matter. "You sure about that?" I ask, lying
down next to him and wrapping an arm around his waist. "Because I
thought for sure you'd want me to do something about this," I add,
sliding a hand down to his still hard cock.
"Fuck," he groans.
"Something like that," I grin, kissing the back of his neck. I stroke
him until he's fully erect, and won't want to go back to sleep. "But
you have to wake up to find out." I pull my hand away, and sit up.
"HEY!" he yells, rolling over to glare at me.
I laugh and lean down to kiss him quickly, pulling away when he tries
to grab me. "No, Will. Get up."
"And go where?" he asks.
"Not far," I reply. "Think you can stand?"
"Yeah," he nods. He gets to his feet, slowly, and manages to stay
standing this time. "So, where to?"
"I thought we'd take a bath," I reply.
He walks into the bathroom, and I don't need to see his eyes to know
he's rolling them. "You're a sap," he says.
"Well if you don't *want*--"
"Shut the fuck up and get in the tub," he growls, turning to look at
me.
"If you insist," I reply, stepping into the tub, and sitting down. He
follows me, straddling my hips as he sits by. I can't hold back a
groan as our erections press together. I grab his head and pull him
to me for a kiss.
*****
He *is* a sap. Candles and a hot bath... but I could get used to this
kinda shit. I prefer to be independent, but every once in a while I
don't mind being taken care of. And it's nice to be able to touch him
and kiss him again. I've gotten used to having him around *to* touch
and kiss and talk to. I missed him the past few days... more than I'd
ever admit.
I thrust my cock against his, and he groans again,"Will..." leaning
his head back and gripping my hips as I keep thrusting against him. I
lean in to nip at his throat, as I run a hand down to his chest,
pinching and tugging at a nipple.
He slides a hand around to my ass, and it's my turn to groan against
his throat. Fuck, it hasn't been a week since I've felt him inside
me, but it sure as hell feels like longer. I *need* to feel that, in
a way that I hope he'll never understand. It would give him too much
power in this relationship if he *did* know it.
His finger teases around my hole, not pushing inside, and I whimper.
Shit, I hate when I do that. I grip his shoulders and push back, but
he doesn't enter me yet. He leans his head down to nip my earlobe,
before saying, "Look at me, Will. I love seeing those eyes when I'm
inside you."
Shit. I look up at him, and when he looks at me I almost believe I'm
the only one he's ever loved. Of course I know that's not... "Oh...
god..." I moan as I feel his finger push inside me slowly. I can't
keep eye contact, I feel like I'm losing myself--
He kisses me quickly. "Open your eyes," he whispers as he scratches a
nail over my prostate.
I shudder, and open my eyes, looking at him. "Angel..." I gasp, when
he does it again. "Yes..." I'm still thrusting against him, and the
friction combined with the way he's touching me so expertly is
pushing me closer and closer.
He's close too, I can see it in the way his eyes flicker to gold and
back again, repeatedly. "God I love you," he says, as he presses
another finger inside me. He scissors them, stretching me wider for
him. "I need--"
"Yes, fuck, yes," I nod. But bloody hell, those eyes are too much for
me. I lean in to kiss him, pushing my tongue into his mouth. I
shudder as a feel a third finger enter me, and he's so damn careful.
Not that I don't appreciate that. But it's like he thinks he has to
prove to me that he won't hurt me, when I already *know* that his
soul wouldn't let him hurt me.
And there was a time I believed that about the demon part of him
but ... okay, enough thinking.
I start rocking back on those fingers, and then thrusting forward
against him. Fuck, if he keeps this up, I'm gonna come before he's
*really* inside me. And we can't have *that*. "Angel... please--"
"ANGEL!" *BANG BANG BANG*
No. No. NO. Not right NOW!
He gives me a guilty look as he withdraws his fingers, and pushes me
back so he can stand. "I have to..." he trails off as he wraps a
towel around his waist and goes out to the bedroom. "I'll be down in
five minutes," I hear him say to whoever decided to interrupt us. And
then he's back at the door to the bathroom. "I'm sorry--"
"Don't," I tell him, standing up and stepping out of the tub. I grab
a towel off the rack for myself. "Just go."
He walks over and wraps his arms around me from behind. "Will, please
don't--"
I push him away, with a growl. "Don't tell me not to be angry!" I
yell. "We haven't had--"
"ANGEL!" Fucking GUNN! I could strangle him!
"COMING!" He yells back, and he looks back at me, with such a
pathetic apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Will. We'll ... I'm sorry," he
shrugs, turning away. He dresses quickly without saying anything
else, and then leaves, grabbing his coat on his way out.
And I almost feel bad for being a jerk about this. Almost, but not
quite. Bloody hell, I *am* a selfish soul-less demon! I throw temper
tantrums when something doesn't go right; I *hate* not getting my
way. And I won't change and pretend that I'm okay when I'm NOT. It's
really pissing me off that every time things seem to be getting
*perfect* between us, something happens to spoil it. Why can't we
have *one* fucking *good* moment, and not have it RUINED?
And I'm fucking horny, and now I have to get off on my *own.*
*****
Two hours later
If I'd had a choice in the matter, I would've chosen making love to
Spike over battling a nest of slime demons. But I don't get to make
those choices, unfortunately. Well, I suppose I *could*, but I
*won't.*
And I hate that he was mad at me when I left, but I can't blame him.
I suppose it *does* hurt when I go off to save complete strangers
rather than spend time with him. But it's not that I *enjoy* leaving
him, and I wish he knew that.
I walk into the hotel, finding Dawn in the office reading. "Hey,
Dawn. Seen Spike?"
The grin answers my question. "Yeah, I'm so glad he's better." She
frowns though. "But... he seemed upset about something. Did you
two... "
"We didn't fight," I answer, sitting down next to her. "But we
were..." How to put this, without giving unnecessary details. "Let's
just say Cordelia's vision interrupted us in a ... moment."
"Ohh," she says, nodding. "Okay, that explains it. I asked him what
you did to piss him off and he said he wasn't mad at *you*, just the
timing of you having to go." She looks at me. "I think it'll be
better when he can go out with you guys again."
"You're probably right," I answer, and I am *so* relieved he's not
angry with me. "Is he upstairs?" I ask.
"Yeah, I could tell he wasn't in a company kind of mood, but I'm sure
that doesn't include *you*," she smiles.
"I hope not," I say. "Um, Dawn, I was wondering..."
"Yeah?" she asks.
"I was just... wondering..." I said that already. Right. Me and
conversations don't always get along well. "...if... well... me and
Spike... you're still... okay with it? I mean, us?" There, I said it.
"Oh," she smiles. "Well, at first it was weird, I'll admit that," she
replies. "I got used to it, though, especially when I've seen him so
much happier than he's been in a long time. And I know you care
about him, anyone who sees you look at him would know that. So it's
fine, really. I just ..." She shakes her head. "I'm happy for you."
"You just...." I repeat. "Something's bothering you? Please tell me,"
I request.
"Not really bothering me," she replies, sighing. "Worrying, maybe.
But it's not my business. You two are happy; that's all that
matters."
"Spill, Dawn," I tell her. "I want to know your opinions and anything
that worries you about this."
"Okay..." she says. "Well, it's just that Spike really saved my life,
after Buffy died, Angel. If he hadn't been around, I think I would've
run away or ... or something. But he always seemed to know when he
needed to cheer me up, or when he just needed to let me be sad, or
when I needed to get away, and... he's like family to me," she
says. "And I've gotten to the point where I understand him pretty
well, so I know he's happy being with you. It's just that...he would
be mad if he heard me say this, so I didn't, okay?"
I'm not sure where she's going with this ramble, but I am sure I want
to hear what she knows about his feelings. And maybe it's wrong of me
to want to know from someone other than him, but he's not very vocal.
And besides she's volunteering her opinion, nothing more. "It's
between you and me, Dawn," I assure her.
"Thanks," she nods. "And he *hasn't* come out and said it, Angel, so
it's me talking here. But I'm sure about it...He really cares about
you. It's in his voice when he talks about you or to you. It's also
in the way he looks at you, and it's just... *obvious* to anyone who
knows him. And I'm telling you this because that's why I'm worried."
"Why would knowing how Spike feels about me worry you?" I wonder.
"Because he looks at you the way he used to look at Buffy," she
answers. "And when she left us, it almost killed him."
Oh. Now I get it. And I thought *he* was protective of *her.* "Look,
Dawn," I say, "I think I understand what you're getting at, but you
don't need to worry. I love him." She doesn't seem bothered by
hearing the words; I guess she is okay with us. "And I swear to you,
there are two things I would *never* do, where he is concerned. One
is hurt him, the other is leave him."
She searches my eyes for a minute, and finally nods. "I believe you.
And I'm sorry for butting in, I just..."
"I'm not," I tell her. "I'm *very* glad that Spike has such a
wonderful friend in you. And I'm also glad you butted in, because it
isn't always easy between the two of us. There are a lot of things we
have to get past before he can trust me completely, and he hasn't
been that comfortable letting me know how he feels. So, in a selfish
way, I'm glad that you told me that you think he does care about me,"
I admit. "I thought I knew it, but it puts my mind at ease a little."
"Yeah, well you helped me not worry so much," she replies,
smiling. "And I know he isn't vocal about his feelings, but it's just
not his way. He's more about actions than words," she shrugs. "Like I
know he'd die for me, so I don't need him to tell me he cares."
"I know," I nod. "So... if you don't mind, I need to de-slime," I
add, sitting up. "I'm sure I smell wonderful."
She shrugs. "It's not as bad as if you'd run into a Marchok."
"Oh god, no kidding," I reply. "You've never been sprayed by one have
you?" I ask. Stupid things think they're skunks but smell even fouler.
"No, luckily," she giggles. "But Spike has. Buffy wouldn't let him
anywhere near the house for a week..." She smiles, looking away. And
I know it hurts to remember at first, but I'm glad she's not blocking
out those memories. In time, it will get easier.
"Do you want to come up and watch some TV?" I ask. I don't feel right
just leaving her down here alone. Especially if she needs company.
"Hey, no, I'm fine," she says, looking up at me. "It just still hits
me, sometimes, that we won't make anymore funny memories," she
shrugs.
"Yeah," I nod. "I know, Dawn. But we have made *some*, and we just
have to focus on that," I reply. "Now, let's go," I point her toward
the stairs. "We'll watch a movie after I shower off this slime."
"I don't want to intrude," she says, shaking her head.
"It's never an intrusion when it's you, and I *know* I speak for
Spike as well when I say that," I tell her. "So come on, Young Lady.
It's not a request, it's an order."
"Well, if I *have* to..." she sighs, dramatically as she stands up
and precedes me out of the office. But I notice the gratefulness in
her eyes as she walks past me. We go up to my room, and find Spike
sitting on the bed watching TV.
"Hey, Bit, where'd you run off to?" he asks. He glances over at me,
and I can see now it wasn't anger he felt so much as disappointment
that I left. "You're a mess," he declares.
"No kidding," I answer. "Slime demons tend to have that effect on me
when I kill them at close range." I head to the bathroom, adding, "I
told Dawn she was welcome to hang out and watch a movie with us."
He nods. "Of course she is. We'll just find something while you're
cleaning up."
*****
"So?" I ask her.
"So... what?" she replies, sitting down next to me and grabbing the
remote.
"So where'd you go?" I ask. "You said you were gonna call Willow, and
then you never came back."
"Oh." She keeps flipping through the channels, and shrugs. "I did
call Willow, but then I stayed downstairs. I just... got the
impression you wanted to be alone."
"No, I ..." I trail off when she looks at me. "Right, well maybe a
little. But I was just feelin' sorry for myself. I've hated being
cooped up in this room all week, and that vision was just... bad
timing. We were talking," I add, because that's better than letting
her think we were doing what we *were* doing. I don't want her
thinking I do those things. It would be too weird.
"Right, *talking*," Dawn says rolling her eyes. "That's what Buffy
used to call it when I'd barge into her room when she was with
Riley. 'Do you mind, Dawn? We were talking.'" She giggles. "Like
Riley was *ever* good at conversation."
"No, that wasn't his strong characteristic," I agree, smiling a
little. And I'm glad that she's finally starting to talk about her
sister. It's good for her.
"But hey, are you comparing my love life to hers?" I ask. "Because
that's just not a bloody fair comparison, I'll have you know. "
She's grinning, and I have no idea why she's grinning. "WHAT?" I ask.
"Your *love* life," she replies, still grinning. "Are you saying that
you--"
"Oh shut the hell up," I growl, grabbing the remote back and staring
at the TV as I switch the channels.
She giggles again. "Spike, don't be embarrassed. I think it's great.
And you two really are cute together--"
"Dawn, I'm warning you, let it go," I threaten. It's a completely
empty threat, though, and unfortunately I'm not the only one who
knows it.
"Okay, okay," she says. "I'm sorry for teasing you. But you don't
have to pretend like you two aren't together. I know you are and it's
cool. I really do think it's great."
"Whatever," I shrug, even though it is a relief to hear her say that.
I don't want a reason to have to leave him anymore, if I'm being a
hundred percent honest with myself. And it's nice that she won't give
me that reason.
"Hey, find anything?" Angel asks, walking over. He smells *much*
better, and doesn't look half bad now either. He put on a pair of
black slacks and a dark blue button down shirt.
Dawn moves to the other side of me and then lays on her stomach
facing the television. "Not yet," she replies, turning back to the
television.
Angel sits down next to me in the spot she vacated. I look over at
him and he must've read my mind because he leans in for a kiss just
then. "I'm sorry about earlier," he says, when he pulls away.
I glance over at Dawn, but she's pretending not to listen as she
watches some show. Oh, Friends. Whatever, I've seen this one. "Yeah,"
I reply, looking back at him.
He smiles and nods, "Okay then." Good, he got that that was my
forgiving him *and* apologizing back. He leans back against the
headboard, and puts an arm around me, pulling me close.
"Hey, Meet the Parents," Dawn says, turning back to look at us. She
grins, but she must see that warning look in my eyes because she
turns away again.
"That's fine," I shrug, relaxing against him. And today wasn't a
perfect day, but it's ending that way, in my opinion. My girl, m-...
*Angel*, and me, relaxing in front of the telly. I can't think of
anything better. Well, not *many* things better, anyway.
*******
*****
"NOOOOOOO!"
"Dawn!"
I jerk awake in time to see Spike run out of the room. That was Dawn
who-- "FUCK!"
And that was Spike. I run out of the room, and he's sitting on the
floor in the hall. "Spi--"
"Go to Dawn!!" he growls, pushing me away.
I nod, and run to her room, opening the door. "Dawn?" She's sitting
up in bed, and... everything *seems* all right. I walk over to
her. "You okay?"
"Yeah, it was just... a dream," she says. "I'm sorry, God I thought I
was done having those..."
"No need to apologize, Dawn," I tell her, sitting down next to
her. "You can't help bad dreams. I'm just glad it wasn't anything
worse," I tell her. I can tell the dream really upset her by how fast
her heart's beating. I'm guessing it was about Buffy. "Do you want to
talk about it?"
She shrugs. "Same thing as always. She... she says she loves me, and
then she takes a step and I *know* what she's doing, but I can't stop
her, and I feel like I'm moving in slow motion..." She trails off and
takes a deep breath. "I couldn't stop her, Angel, and she jumped, and
now she's dead, and it was all my fault--"
"It bloody well wasn't your fault, Dawn, and don't you ever say that
again," Spike says.
******
I walk over to the bed, willing my legs not to give out on me again.
Angel's worried, I can see it in his eyes. He must've figured out how
weak I still am. But that'll wait. Dawn's the priority now. I sit
down, and say, "If you'd *pushed* her, then yeah it'd be your fault,
but you didn't so it *wasn't."
She shakes her head, brushing the tears from her cheeks. "But if I
had never existed--"
"Damn it, if you wanna play the 'what if' game then *fine*, let's
*play* that game," I reply. "What if *I* had done things right, and
*not* gotten thrown off the tower? I could've gotten you away, Dawn,"
he says. "Then *you* wouldn't have bled, the portal wouldn't have
opened, Buffy wouldn't have had to jump. So then it's my fault, ain't
it?"
"No," she says. "You *know* I never blamed you, Spike--"
"*I* did, damn it!" I yell, and she jumps. Get a grip, Spike. "I
did," I repeat, softer. "And it ate me up inside Pet, and I wanted to
die. But you know what stopped me? Other than you, you little brat,
it was *her.* My promise to her that I would take care of you. And
after a while, I realized somethin'. She didn't *want* me to blame
myself, and she sure as *hell* doesn't want that for *you*. She
didn't for one *second* blame you, or me, or anyone else, other than
the damn bitch who caused the whole mess. She loved you Dawn. Still
does. She took that jump for you, and for all of her friends, and she
wouldn't want any of you blaming yourselves for it when it was *her*
choice."
"I ...I just wish--"
"I know, Pet. I do too, sometimes," I admit. "But it won't change
anything, and all it does is leave you stuck in the past. And that's
*not* what she would want. She would want you to live, Dawn, and not
feel guilty about it."
She sighs. "I know that, Spike. But I can't help missing her."
"I don't think she would want you *not* to miss her, Dawn," I tell
her. "I'm sure she misses *you*. I'm just saying that you shouldn't
feel bad about living your life. The reason she fought, Pet, was so
you *could* live."
She nods.
I think she's okay now, so I stand up. She probably needs some time
to just be by herself, usually does after one of our talks. But I
have to be sure, "So you gonna be all right now?"
"I'm fine, now, Spike, thanks," she says, looking up at me with a
little smile that melts my heart. Damn it, I'm not supposed to care
about humans, but I can't deny that I do. About her, anyway. It's all
her fault, for caring about *me* first. Love's bitch, that's me.
"Right then," I nod. "I'll be around if you need me." I glance over
at Angel, nodding him to the door, and he follows me out.
God, it hurts, to think about all that shit. I lean against the wall
in the hallway, trying to find that 'I'm fine' place again.
"Do you--"
"I just ...need a minute," I tell him, not looking at him when I do.
If I did look in those eyes, I'd just dissolve into a pathetic crying
mess.
*****
I see the pain, *feel* the pain, and I'd love nothing more than to be
able to comfort him. But I won't push that, if he doesn't want it. I
know it's my connection to Buffy that makes it so hard for him to
talk to me about her death. But I still wish he *could* talk to me
about it. I'm *not* jealous of their friendship, not anymore. And now
that we're together, I hate that there are things he feels like he
can't talk to me about. But I understand. And maybe someday...
"Take as much time as you need, Will," I say, turning away. I go back
to our room and heat up a couple of mugs of blood. And I'm trying not
to listen when I hear him enter his room next door. But I can't help
it. And when I hear him crying, so quietly only I could hear it, it
stuns me. I forget, sometimes, that he's still grieving. We all are.
But he's so strong and I tend to lose sight of the fact that it's
just an act. He acts strong for Dawn, because *she* needs it. He acts
strong around *me* because it's what I taught him.
Shit, I can't just sit here, listening to him. I'll break my promise
to myself and go in there and just make him mad at me. And that's the
last thing I want right now when everything is going so *well* with
us.
So I finish my blood and then head downstairs to the office. Cordy
and Gunn are there. "Hey!" she says, "you're up early."
"I couldn't sleep," I shrug, taking a seat on the couch. "So what's
up?"
"Nothing yet, and let me tell you I'm *so* fine with that," Cordelia
replies. "Two visions in one night? Really not a whole lot of fun. So
with the lack of head-splitting migraines today, I had time to send
out some bills. Not that anyone *pays* us. Ever. But we can keep
hoping, right?"
"*Two* visions?" I ask.
"Oh, right," she shrugs. "Well, you and Gunn were busy with the slime
demons. So ..fredandihandledthevampirestalker."
"WHAT?!" I yell, jumping to my feet.
"It was just some jerk vampire, stalking his ex-girlfriend," she
shrugs. "Not a huge deal, but it was one of those things that
couldn't wait, Angel."
"I... I don't ... You two shouldn't go out without myself or Gunn!" I
reply. "What if it *hadn't* been just one vampire, Cordy?!"
"Look, in a perfect world, I agree we should wait for the manly men
when going out to save someone," she says. "But you know, we're kind
of hurting for numbers of manly men lately, since you--" She shakes
her head. "I don't want to argue with you. It's done, it was just a
random thing, I'm *not* sorry because I *am* capable of slaying a
vampire occasionally, and I'll do it again if I have to."
"It's not that I don't think you're capable, but you haven't had any
real training in fighting, and I just don't like the thought of you
in danger," I tell her.
"Angel, as for your not wanting me in danger, that's very...
eighteenth century of you."
"I'm not just being old-fashioned, Cordy--"
"Sure you are," she smiles. "And it's really sweet. But you know what
would make you feel better?"
"What?" I ask, wondering whether I'm really *smart* to ask.
"You said I haven't had any real training fighting, well you could
teach me!" she says.
Oh, no. "Cordy, that's not a..."
"Good idea? Why not? If you had more confidence in my skills, you
wouldn't worry as much."
"Not true. I worry about all of you, every night, because you're
mortal and you could die. It has nothing to do with confidence," I
say.
"Tell me it wouldn't help if you knew how well I could handle
myself," she says, standing and putting her hands on her hips. Shit,
she's not going to let me say no. And I guess maybe--
"No. Maybe you should get fighting lessons, Cordy, but not from me.
I ... you're only human and I don't even want to *think* about what
would happen if I forgot my strength and... NO," I say. "We'll find
you a good martial arts class or something."
"Right, like anyone else could teach me how to defend myself against
demons," she says. "Angel, you have what, two hundred years give or
take experience with the *real* bad bad guys, and I wouldn't want to
bother learning from anyone else. Besides, I have a lot more
confidence in you than you do. You won't forget your strength, and
you won't hurt me."
"I don't want to risk--"
"You'd rather risk putting me in the hands of some *human* who
doesn't know the first thing about protecting myself from demons?"
she asks. "And you *know*, not to state a not-so-happy possibility,
but what if you went evil again? Wouldn't you want me to know how to
defend myself from evil-you?"
Damn it, I *hate* when she makes sense. And now she's pouting. Shit,
I'm done for.
*****
Right, enough moping. And shit, I don't usually lose it like that
anymore, but I hate those talks. I'm of the forget and move on way of
thinkin' but I guess humans aren't like that. To be fair, she's just
a kid, and she's trying her best, so I should cut her some slack.
I better go see how Angel's doing. I saw how hurt he was when I
brushed him off, but I couldn't help it. I'm just not comfortable
letting him see me weak. He used to... Not going to think about what
he used to do when I dared to show my emotions.
I walk into our room. "Angel?" He's not here, guess he went
downstairs to his humans. *All* the way down the bloody stairs.
Right. Well, I can do it too, I just have to take it slow. One step
at a time, not getting dizzy. Okay, maybe a little dizzy. I'll just
sit down on this step then.
I hate this. I'm just glad Angel isn't hovering. I hate being weak
even *more* when he's trying to 'help'. I don't need his pity. I'll
be fine.
Okay. Try again. I pull myself up to stand, and start walking again.
Halfway there...
"Hey, Spike!" It's Fred. One of his humans that I actually like. And
she looks happy enough to see me. "You're up! And moving! Wow, that's
great!" she says, walking over.
"Glad you think so," I reply. "Still a little slow, but I guess it'll
take time," I shrug.
"Right. Um, are you hungry? I could warm you up some blood?" she
offers.
Well, I *haven't* fed yet. And hell, I love it when a pretty girl
wants to take care of me. "I would appreciate that, Pet," I nod,
walking over to one of the chairs and sitting down. And oh, she
blushed when I called her Pet. She's damn adorable, she is. So
innocent, if I were still biting I'd just eat--
"Spike," Gunn walks out of the office, and there's a not-so-happy
look in his eyes. But when he looks at Fred, it all makes sense.
Young love. Ah, I remember those days. "It's good you're better," he
says. "We're hurting for strong fighters, with you *and* Wesley--"
"Charles!" Fred yells, giving him a warning look. "Ixnay on that ame-
nay," she says. "You know Angel said--"
"Yeah, well he's not within hearing range--"
"He isn't?" I ask. I *was* wonderin' where he ran off to.
"He's downstairs with Cordelia," Fred replies.
Downstairs. With Cordelia. And the logical question to that is "Why?"
And I hope that sounds as indifferent as I meant it.
"Oh, they're just sparring," she answers.
Sparring. Cordelia and Angel? *That* I have to see.
And there's the phone, so now I don't have to come up with an excuse
to run down to the basement. Well, walk slowly is more like it. I
open the door and the first thing I sense is his arousal. Not
thrilled about that, but okay, it's understandable. We demons get
turned on by fighting. Even just play-fighting. But even less
thrilled when I sense *her* arousal.
I move down one step quietly and crouch down to watch them.
"So remember what I told you," he says, as they get into position
with swords. "If you get disarmed, scratch, kick, bite, do anything
you can think of to keep him from getting a hold of you. Elbow the
ribs, punch the stomach, scratch the eyes. Kick for the groin, or the
knees could give out if hit with enough force. It's always good if
you have more than one weapon with you. Holy water will hurt any
demon, stakes, you name it- the point is to *hurt* it and run. And if
you *do* get grabbed, and can't get free, go limp. In the split
second that catches him off guard, fight with everything you can
think of, and then run for your life."
"I *got* it, Angel," she says, rolling her eyes. "I didn't survive
Sunnydale only because of Buffy you know, and you're not even making
this difficult for me."
"Oh no?"
Uh-oh. Never give him a challenge, Git.
He spin kicks, knocking the sword out of her hand, and before she can
yell in protest, he's grabbed her, pulling her back against him, one
arm pinning hers to her sides. "Lesson number one: *never*, *ever*
taunt a demon, Cordelia," he growls.
Damn, her arousal just increased, and so did his. I bet he's hard
against her, and that pisses me off. She struggles, and I see his
eyes flash gold, then back to brown. "Ready to give up?" he asks.
"Hell no," she says, and kicks back, making contact with his shin.
He grunts, but doesn't lose his hold on her. "That wasn't the knee."
He licks his lips as he glances down at her throat. Well, can't blame
him on that. I'll admit I've thought about how good she would
taste. "And you hesitated so long, you'd be dead now." He lowers his
head, brushing his lips against her throat, and she gasps.
Shit, she's practically panting for him to fuck her. The scent of her
is even turning *me* on a little, or maybe that's the scent of *him.*
And I should say something to stop this right fucking now, cuz damn
it he's *mine* and game or not, I'm *not* amused.
"Hey," I say, walking down into their view.
Angel pulls away from her quickly, and I catch her disappointed
expression. And the glare she turns on me. Oh, did I interrupt
something?
"Spike, hey, you're well!" she says, recovering quickly and putting
fake smile in place. "Wow, that's great!"
"Yeah," I nod, looking at him. "So what's up?" I ask, glancing down
quickly to see what really *is* up. And when I look back at his face,
he's guilty. Well, you better be, Angelus. I smelled all that
arousal; and even though she is a pretty girl, it better *only* be
lust.
"Angel's giving me some demon fighting tips," Cordelia replies. "But
I'm tired, so why don't we stop for today?" she asks.
He nods. "That's fine, Cordy. You did great. You need to work on your
reaction time, though."
"Right," she shrugs. "I guess I got... distracted."
Oh bloody hell is she *flirting* with him? She *IS*, the bitch!
Giggling, and that smile...
*****
Spike just growled. Cordelia gives him a puzzled look, and I decide
to intervene. "Right, well, next time you'll do better." I ignore the
angry look he turns on me, and add, "Now, if you'll give me a minute,
I need to talk to Spike. About Dawn."
"No problem," she says, turning and running upstairs.
"Spike, what--"
"What the hell was all that?!" he demands.
"All what?" And he really *is* pissed. Is he...he *is*. "Spike,
there's no reason to be
jeal--"
"Fuck you, I'm NOT jealous!" He shoves me backward, and I step back a
few steps. "This basement stinks of arousal, from *both* of you, and
I'm just wonderin' WHY."
"I did get turned on, but it was the fighting," I tell him. He knows
that, it's a part of being a demon. "As for her... I don't know. The
excitement, the adrenaline rush?" I guess. I really *don't* know. She
doesn't think of me as anything more than family, I know *that* much.
He's still glaring, and he shakes his head. "Gimme a break. She got
turned on, because it was you holding her like that, you pretending
you were gonna bite her. Shit, I don't know *why* I didn't see it
before, but she has the hots for ya."
"No she doesn't," I reply. "That's just... it's not the case. She...
we're like family, and we don't think of each other sexually."
"Riiiiiiight," he says. "You're tellin' me you've *never* thought
about shaggin' *that*?" He snorts with laughter. "I know better."
"Fine, in the past maybe," I concede, "but not anymore. And I guess
I can't convince you, so you're just gonna have to believe me. The
only person I've thought about shagging the last couple months has
been you." I smile and grab his arm, pulling him toward me.
"Oh no ya don't," he growls, pulling away.
"Wiiiilll," I ... well, okay, I whined. But I'm not used to being
refused, especially by *him.*
"No bloody way," he says. "You don't fuck me with the hard-on that
*she* gave you." He crosses his arms in front of him, and it's clear
he's not going to change his mind.
"Fine," I say with a sigh. "And look, Will, I am sorry I didn't have
enough self-control, but I'm not used to being in a situation where I
*need* that kind of control."
"I'm not mad at you for being turned on by a pretty girl," he
shrugs. "You're just not gonna come to me afterward wanting to get
off. That's too much like--"
"Enough said," I interrupt him. Now I really *do* understand. I don't
ever want to use him like that again.
He nods. "But I won't stop you from takin' care of it," he adds. He
sits down on the bottom step and looks at me with a little smile.
Oh. Shit. "Um... okay," I say. I glance up the stairs, hoping that
someone doesn't decide to open the door and see me do this. That
would be unbelievably embarrassing not to mention it would take away
the question of *when* I'm going to tell them about Spike and me.
"Sometime today, Angelus," he adds.
Right. I unbutton and unzip my slacks, pushing them doown. They fall
around my feet, and I push my boxers down too. Spike licks his lips
when he sees my hard cock, and I moan.
*****
Bloody hell, he used to be a lot more of an exhibitionist. "Touch
yourself, damn it," I growl.
He nods, and takes his cock in his hand, stroking it
slowly. "Will..." he groans.
God that's a fuckin' turn-on, when he says my name that way. I can't
*just* watch... I don't take my eyes off him, though, as I undo my
own jeans, sliding my hand inside. Damn I love it when I have good
ideas.
"So..." I say, smiling when I notice he's matching the movements of
my hand. "I'm curious, Angel. Where'd Wesley go?"
"Wha..." he stops his hand for a moment and then he sees my
frown. "I..." He starts stroking his cock again, shakes his head. "I
told you, we argued... about you... he left."
"Did ya fire him?" I ask. "Shit..." I stand up, kick my jeans off,
and sit back down, spreading my legs so I can get a better angle.
"Ohgod," he moans, and I'm not sure what's worse for him: touching
himself or watching me touch *myself.* I know that in my case, it's
all him: watching him jerking off, hearing the way he's moaning
watching *me* jerk off.
"Angel," I say, getting him to look at my eyes. "Did you fire him?" I
repeat.
"I..." He shrugs. "I told him ...to accept you as part ...fuck....of
the team or he was no longer part ....ah...of ...theteam."
I smile. "So.... you gave him an ultimatum about me?" I move my other
hand to my balls, squeezing them gently... Shit. I'm so close.
"Yeah," he nods. "Will... I'm..."
"One more question," I say. "Why?"
"Why?" he asks... "God, Will, I... I... don't want anyone... around
who can't ... accept you. Nobody....ohfuck...nobody... is more...
important than you... I... love youooohhhfuck..."
He comes then, falling to his knees as he does, and shit, watchin' it
is enough to push *me* over the edge too. "Angel..." I moan, throwing
my head back as I climax.
*****
"Shit, Will," I say, when I come back to my senses. I walk over and
drop to my knees in front of him, kissing him. "I do, you know."
"Do what?" he asks.
"Love you," I answer.
"Pouf," he rolls his eyes.
"Call me names if you want," he shrugs, "it won't make it *not*
true." I sigh and move to sit on the step right above him. "So,
aren't you glad the basement's soundproof?" I ask.
He chuckles. "Wouldn't matter to *me* if they heard us, *you're* the
one who doesn't want them to know."
That hurts him. And I knew this was going to be a necessary
discussion eventually. I just didn't know he thought, what, that I'm
too embarrassed of him to tell them? Fuck, I shouldn't have put it
off *this* long. "Will--"
"You don't have'ta explain, I know why you haven't told them," he
says.
"Do you?" I ask.
"Sure," he nods. "They wouldn't understand, and who needs the hassle--
"
"No," I reply. I put one of my hands on his thigh, squeezing it,
making him moan. "It's not about the hassle, Will."
He gives me a look, and I sigh. "Okay, look, maybe it was about that
a little. I was worried at first about how they might react. But not
for me, Will, for you. I wanted to let you get comfortable around all
of them, without having to deal with how they might treat you if they
knew we were lovers. It was hard enough getting them used to you
being part of Angel Investigations, without tossing them the added
curve ball of my being in love with you. They were suspicious enough,
at first."
"You don't have to protect me, Angel," he frowns.
"I don't have to, but I can't help wanting to," I answer. "Anymore
than you could have kept from jumping in front of that Pokra. I love
you, Will. You are more important to me than *any*one else right now.
And I *do* plan on telling them soon about us. I was just waiting for
the right time."
He almost looks convinced. "Hey, this hasn't been easy for me, hiding
how I feel about you from them. I *want* them to know, I don't want
to have to keep from touching you and kissing you around them. I
don't think I'll be *able* to hide it much longer, Will."
*****
I want to believe him. It's just really fucking hard when I've
*always* been his secret. He's spent all my existence being ashamed
of his feelings for me. I knew they were there, especially before
Sunnydale. Back then, he was so different in private, so affectionate
when it was just the two of us. Kind of like now.
No, no it's *not* the same. If I believed that, why the fuck am I
*here*? I'm here because it's different now. It's different, and...
And I can't remember how, but it just bloody well *is.*
"Penny for your thoughts," he says.
I look over him and smile. "I would think they're worth more than a
penny," I tease.
"Most definitely," he agrees, taking my face in his hands and kissing
me, gently, but passionately at the same time. He thrusts his tongue
in my mouth, and I suck on it with a whimper. And oh, yeah, *this* is
how it's different now. He never, *ever* kissed me or touched me like
this before now.
He pulls away. "So?" he asks.
What... oh. No fucking way you're hearing *those* thoughts. "I...
forget?" I pull my cum-stained t-shirt off, and say, "But I'm
thinking now that a shower might be nice. Care to join me?"
"I can't think of anything I'd rather do," he replies. He stands, and
helps me to my feet. "I should check whether we've gotten any phone
calls. I'll meet you upstairs?"
Sure," I nod. "You might wanna take off that tee, unless you want
them to think we just did what we did."
"Oh. Right," he nods, pulling his shirt off. Damn, I'm hard now. He
notices, and smiles, reaching for me.
"No," I say, stepping away. "Go talk to your humans. I'll be in the
shower, waiting." I pull on my jeans quickly and run upstairs.
And maybe running wasn't so smart. So I'll just lean against the wall
and catch my breath. That damn Pokra really took a lot of my
strength, along with my ability to move. I can't wait until I'm
completely well again.
Damn it, Angel don't *look* at me like that! "I'm fine," I growl,
before he can ask.
"Okay," he says softly, but he doesn't look convinced. He goes into
the office, and I am so grateful for that. I can't stand the fuckin'
brooding. It's time we had some un-broody *fun* for once damn it!
*****
"Hi. So... calls?" I ask as I walk into the office.
"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" Cordelia screams and starts to fall. Okay, no
calls, but a vision. I grab her and lower her to the couch. "Damn
it... ow... Caritas. Oh. That's really not good. We gotta get over
there now. Massacre. Major massacre."
"Gunn, grab some wea-- No. Shit. No demon violence."
"Not demons," Cordelia gasps. "Human. They just want to kill demons,
Angel. But those demons. Most aren't bad--"
"I know," I say nodding. "Cordy, go to this address..." I write it
down and hand it to her. "These sisters, they're the ones who put up
the spell protecting the place from demon violence. Tell them Lorne -
and mention *my* name, they know me - tell them we need that spell
lifted immediately, and why." She nods, and I turn to Gunn. "We need
to go over there. Knowing Lorne, he won't want to close the club, so
we just have to stop these people outside Caritas if we can."
I go over to the weapons cabinet, grabbing a crossbow, a sword, a few
knives, anything I can carry easily. Gunn also grabs some weapons.
And I should go tell Spike--
"Angel! Come *on*, we don't have much time!" Gunn yells.
Right. I'm sorry, Spike. I'll make it up to you later.
*****
Well, Angel isn't coming. Big surprise. Probably had to go save the
world again. And are The fuckin' Powers trying to tell us somethin'
here? "You think you're gonna stop us from bein' together?" I ask,
staring up at the ceiling. "Fuck you, it's not gonna work. I may not
like all this time apart, but it won't last long. Soon enough, I'll
be fighting by his side again. It's just a matter of time."
I walk into the bathroom and turn on the shower. I'm not waiting, it
could be *hours* before he's done with whatever his current mission
is. And I'm not ticked at him, I'm ticked at the lack of time we get
lately. Quick fucks are great, but I miss... damn it he's turning
*me* into a sap.
Cold water. I don't wanna get off without him yet again. Not planning
on making cold showers a habit, either. I get out of the shower after
my erection goes away, and grab a pair of black jeans and black t-
shirt. You know what else? I'm sick of sitting around in this hotel.
Fuck that.
I walk over to Dawn's room, knocking. "Yeah," she calls. "Hey,
Spike," she says when I enter. "What's up?"
"I'm bored, Pet," I tell her. "And I'm pretty sure the others have
gone off demon slayin' or somethin'. Wanna go out to a movie, or the
mall or...hell I don't care. You pick."
"Are you serious? You're feeling up to it?" she wonders.
"Course I am, Dawn. Have you forgotten how much I *hate* sitting
around doing nothing?"
"Well, sure. I'd love to... I hate to ask you this, but there *is* a
sale at the mall and Cordy and I haven't been able to go, things have
been so crazy with Angel Investigations the past few days. So... but
if you don't want to, that's cool. Really, don't let me drag you
somewhere you don't--"
"Dawn, breathe," I tell her and chuckle. "We'll go to the mall. I
don't mind."
"Oh, thank you, Spike!" she yells, running over and hugging me.
"Hey, Brat, what have I *told* you about this mushy shit," I growl. I
mean, I'm the Big Bad. I do *not* hug!
"Right, right, big bad vampires don't go around hugging people," she
says, with a smile. "Sorry. I promise I will *never* forget that in
public." She's laughing at me, I know it. And am I mad?
Hell no. Summers women, I'm tellin' ya. They turn me into a pansy.
"You'd *better* not," I tell her. "Get ready then, I'll call a cab
and wait downstairs for ya," I say.
I stop in our room for a minute to grab my dockers and duster. Angel
got it cleaned, after the Pokra battle. I'm glad. It's my lucky coat;
I stole it from a slayer years and years ago. One I didn't get to
kill unfortunately, another vamp got to her first. But we did have
some good fights, she was a hell of a lot of fun.
Ah the bad ol' days.
I walk downstairs, and just as I thought nobody's here. Wait just a
mo'.... "Hey, Fred."
"Spike, hey," she gives me this shy smile. Bloody hell, I'd have fun
seducing her if Angel wasn't in the picture. And Gunn. I have no
doubt he'd rip my heart out, if I touched his woman. Wonder if *she*
knows she's his woman yet.
"Listen, Luv, Dawn and I are going out. Wanna join us? Get out of
this dusty ol' hotel?" I ask.
Blushing even *more*. "I...I'd love to. The others, they went off on
a job and ... totally forgot to ask me to come. But maybe they didn't
forget, so much as just not ask me. I guess I'm not as strong as the
rest of them."
"Fred, from what Angel tells me you're plenty strong enough," I tell
her. "You survived all those years in that demon dimension didn't
ya?" I point out.
"I guess..." she shrugs, looking down at her feet. "I just... it
would've been nice if they'd *said* something. They just all took off
and left me sitting here like a total dork."
"You are anything *but* that, Pet," I say. Hell, she just has so many
shades of red to her. This is fun. "Okay, I gotta call up a cab."
"I wi-Oops, sorry!" she giggles when we both reach for the phone and
our hands touch. Oh bloody hell, I think someone's got a crush.
Sorry, Gunn.
"Go ahead then," I shrug, and turn to see Dawn giving me The Look.
The 'you're a naughty vampire' look. "What?" I ask, walking over to
her.
"Spike, you shouldn't flirt with her," she says quietly so Fred can't
hear. "You're just going to break her heart when she finds out you're
not interested. You're not, are you?" She frowns.
"I'm not wanting to f- I think she's a sweet girl, Dawn, and I'm just
havin' fun. Angel flirts with girls, why can't I?" I ask.
"Angel flirts?" she asks. "With who?"
"Not until you answer *my* question," I say.
She sighs. "Just don't flirt with *her*," she says. "She's been out
of this world for so long, and she's really lonely and innocent. And
she *isn't* a flirt, so she might not understand. That's all I'm
saying."
"Fine," I shrug. I know she's right. "I'll lay off, but elbow me or
something if I forget. Okay?" I really don't want to hurt Fred, she's
the only friend of Angel who's treated me just like another guy,
rather than an evil vampire.
And there's the taxi. "Hey, Fred, the car's here," I call. And shit,
I can't let Angel worry. I write him a quick note, leaving it on the
counter. And then we head out to the car.
*****
Two hours later
Cordy, Gunn, Lorne and I walk into the hotel, and I'm struck by the
emptiness. No television, no voices. "Hello?" I call. "Fred? Spike?"
"They went shopping," Cordelia says with a frown as she holds up a
piece of paper that was on the counter. "How unfair is that? They go
out and have fun while *we* have to fight ignorant ... sorry, Gunn,"
she says.
"No, you were right," he shrugs. "If I've learned anything working
with you guys it's that some demons choose not to be evil, and some
humans choose *to* be."
"You guys still haven't told me what exactly happened," she says.
Gunn and I look at each other. Guess neither of us wants to answer
that question.
/////
He's going to do it. And honestly, I always wondered how long he'd be
able to handle working *for* a vampire. A vampire murdered his
sister, turned her... I don't blame him.
"Gunn, Angel has a soul," Lorne says, stepping in front of me.
"Lorne, get out of the way," I tell him.
"But--"
"Do it!" I yell.
He moves away with a sigh. "This is wrong, Gunn. You know that. He's
not like the vampire who killed your sister--"
"For how long?" Gunn asks.
And that's the issue, is it? Well, fine. "Gunn, I'll make it simple
for you," I say, shifting into game face. "Take a look. This is what
I am. The demon will always be here, and no, I can't promise you I'll
never lose this soul. It could happen. It's something I don't deny.
And if that happens, I am capable of doing terrible things, worse
than you can imagine. You have to decide to deal that, or don't.
Either way, make a choice."
Cordelia's obviously not having any luck with the sisters. It
wouldn't have taken this long to lift the spell. And Gunn looks like
he *has* made his decision. So then this really *is* it. And ...
shit, I'm sorry, Will. I never got a chance to say goodbye. But then
again, I never do.
I just hope someone tells him this time that it *wasn't* my choice to
leave him.
Gunn drops the stake, and I can't fucking believe it. "There's my
choice," he says.
/////
"You got the spell lifted, and Angel and I kicked some human ass for
once," Gunn shrugs. Well put. To the point, no re-hashing of the
moment when he nearly staked me. No need for Cordy to know that. It
wasn't all bad. We understand each other better now, I think. We may
not be friends; but we respect each other, and we can work together.
And that's enough. Besides, I don't need another friend. I need
someone who'll take me out without thinking twice about it, if I *do*
ever lose my soul. And Gunn's that person.
"Something else happened," Cordelia says, looking from him to me,
then back again. "But fine, be all mysterious about it. I'm too tired
to care. And Angel, those Furies really had a lot to say about you."
She smiles.
Oh no. "Really. I don't think I want to know." I was evil then,
and ... god, what did they tell her?
"Good, because I'm never gonna tell," she laughs. "Gunn, would you
give me a ride home?" she asks.
"Sure thing," he nods. She goes into the office to get her purse and
he says, "So, Angel. Are we... cool?"
"Yeah," I reply. "Look, you don't have to like me. We both want to
protect people, and as long as I feel like you've got my back when
we're fighting, and more importantly you protect Cordelia, and
Fred... we're more than cool."
"Good," he says. "And I'll always have your back as long as you're
not evil," he shrugs.
Cordelia walks out then. "Night, Angel."
"Goodnight, Cordelia. Gunn."
It's nine o'clock. The mall is open til ten. I guess I'll go to the
room and wait for Spike to get back.
*****
*****
Chapter Seven
One hour later.
Okay, I thought *Dru* was a manic shopper. I hadn't had the pleasure
of escorting Dawn to the mall when I made that assessment. But she
definitely wins the shopaholic prize for maxing out three of my
credit cards, all in one night. Of course, I don't really care. It's
only money, easily stolen, and she had a blast spending it all.
We even got Fred to join in the fun. And I did some damage on the
fourth credit card myself. While the women were in a book store, I
ducked into a more... let's say more *adult-oriented* store. Bought a
few toys. Can't wait to show Angel.
Home. Finally. I grab my bag of things that would only make Fred
blush and corrupt Dawn, and then start getting bags out of the trunk
of the taxi. Between the three of us, it only takes a whole five
minutes, and then I pay the driver and help the girls lug everything
inside.
And then... at last, the ladies have their bags in their rooms.
That's the part of shopping I hate. I go to our room, and open the
door.
And end up slammed *against* the door, as Angel attacks me. In a good
way. He grabs my head, devours my mouth and fuck yeah, he's already
naked. And horny. Two good things.
"Hey!" I yell when he rips my t-shirt open, but what the hell. He'll
just buy me a new one. And "FUCK!" when he pinches and twists my
nipples like that, bloody hell, I'm not even the slightest bit upset
about the shirt.
"Damn it, Spike, I missed you," he says when he finally pulls his
lips away from mine for a moment. "And do you realize I haven't been
inside you since before you were attacked?"
"I'm aware of that fact," I reply, sliding my hands around his waist
and down to squeeze his ass. "And I seem to remember it's because of
the fuckin' Powers."
"I know," he says, "but I'm hoping that'll change soon. I swear,
we've been run all over the city by visions and calls, the last week,
we need a break. You and *I* need a break."
He unfastens my jeans, but I push him away. He starts to pout and I
grab his face, kissing him. "You haven't even asked what I bought," I
say, holding up the bag.
*****
I know that shop. There's one of those in the mall??? "Um... I'm
afraid to ask what you might have bought in that place," I admit.
"Oh please, the Scourge of Europe afraid of a few toys?" he
grins. "You used to be a *lot* more adventurous."
True. But... Okay, fine. Who am I kidding. If he's feeling playful,
I'm up for it. I'm always *up* for *him*. Bad pun, glad I didn't say
it out loud. "Fine, Will. I'll bite."
"I certainly hope so," he interrupts, dragging a finger up my
erection slowly.
"I...uh..." What was I going to say? Shit, only he can turn me into a
quivering idiot unable to form coherent sentences. Oh, right. The
bag. The *toys*. "What did you buy?"
"Go lie down and I'll show ya," he says.
I do, hopefully not moving *too* quickly. I'm not... oh fuck, who am
I kidding. I *am* eager. It's Will, and I want to be inside him, and--
"No brooding," he growls, as he comes to stand next to the bed
looking down at me.
"Wasn't," I reply. "Only thinking."
"Well, don't think, either. Just concentrate on the moment, on us,"
he says. He kicks off his boots and then crawls up onto the bed,
straddling my hips.
I groan when he thrusts against me, the denim of his jeans rubbing on
my already sensitive cock. "Do it again," I request. He smiles as he
does, and shit, the friction feels *so* fucking *good.* "Ohgod..." I
moan.
"So... what did I buy..." he says, leaning over the edge of the bed
and grabbing the bag. "For you," he says, showing me the first "toy".
It's a bottle of massage oil.
I smile. "And you said *I* was the sa--"
"Angel," he says, a warning tone in his voice. "Do you *want* me to
use this on you in a minute or not?"
"Never mind," I reply. "Go on."
"'S'what I thought," he says with a 'I won' expression. Like I care,
when he's in a romantic mood? "Another, for me but I think you'll
approve," he adds, pulling it out of the bag. Oh my god. It's a cock
strap.
"Uuh... Will, you don't--"
He leans down to kiss me. "Angel. I bought it because *I* wanted it,"
he says. "Okay?"
"More than okay," I reply. "I just didn't want you to think--"
"What, that you get turned on seeing me in a cock strap?" he asks
with a grin. "Because I *do* think that. Am I wrong?"
"You know you're not," I reply, sliding my hands up his thighs to his
waist. "So what else did you buy?"
"Well, this is for both of us, but I figure we'll use it some other
time. We'll be busy enough tonight, without needing it." He pulls out
a video and holy SHIT.
"Will, that's..."
*****
Oh, bloody perfect. He's stunned. *Him.* *Stunned.* "Porn?" I ask
with a grin. "Why, yes, Angel, it is," I nod. "Not just that, it's
gay porn, and oh it's got a dom/sub theme, which I figured you'd
enjoy."
He just stares at me, but I can feel his cock twitch underneath me. I
chuckle and put it on the bedside table. "Later. Tomorrow, maybe," I
shrug. "So then this next one, well, I'll admit this one's all for
me," I say. "You don't get *all* the fun. Or ... well, you'll
probably get some enjoyment out of tormenting me with it."
"What..." He can hardly speak, he wants me so badly. And I knew that,
the scent of desire is just pouring off him. "What is it?"
I pull the dildo out of the bag. It's large, almost as large as him,
and I can't wait to get some use out of it.
He blinks at me, licks his lips, and whimpers. "Will, if there's
anything else in that bag, I'm just going to come, I'm so damn close.
And I don't want to until I'm inside you, so maybe any more toys
should wait til later."
"Fine," I say. "The rest later; let's play now." I move off him, and
stand, removing my jeans. I grab the cock strap and put it on,
groaning as I tighten it. Shit, that hurts but it feels so good too.
And it'll keep me from losing control too quickly.
Angel whimpers. "Fuck... "
"Soon enough," I grin, crawling back over to straddle his hips. "And
hell, if you come, it's not a big deal, because you're not only going
to have *one* orgasm tonight, Angel." I slide back onto his thighs
and take his cock into my hands.
"SHIT!" he screams, arching up into my touch. Damn, he *is* close to
the edge. I start to stroke him, lightly, knowing he's so keyed up
any more pressure would be too painful. "Ohgod... Will," he gasps,
fisting the sheets. "You are... incredible. Still... manage to
surprise me, after all these years," he smiles. "Shit, I love you."
And then he climaxes, silently, but from the look in his eyes it's
still pretty intense. He shoots his seed onto my hand and his
stomach, and I keep stroking him, working him down from his orgasm.
When he can focus on me again, I lean down and kiss him, smiling into
the kiss when his arms wrap around my waist. He slides his hands down
to my ass, squeezing it and I groan. I'm so hard, so ready for him.
But not yet.
I pull away and say, "Turn over." I show him the bottle of massage
oil. "Time to get you nice and relaxed, and turned on, all at the
same time."
"I can't think of a reason to argue with that plan," he replies, and
rolls over onto his stomach. "But you know, if you put me to sleep--"
"Not gonna happen," I say. "but if I do, I'm perfectly capable of
waking you."
*****
Good point. One he's proven many many times. "Okay. Do your worst," I
tell him.
"Oh, I'll have you whimpering like a baby in *no* time," he replies,
and I have no doubt of that.
I feel his hands on my shoulders then, massaging the oil into the
muscles there. Shit, I didn't know I was that tense, and I forgot how
strong he is. "God... Will... feels so good," I sigh, as he starts to
work the knots right out of me.
He moves downward slowly, making sure to massage every inch of my
back, and then back up again. And I'm not whimpering (yet) but I *am*
moaning. He works his hands down my arms to my hands, and --
"FUCK!" I yell, when he presses into a spot on my palm. "What
the...oooohgod."
"I had some fun studyin' accupressure once upon a time," he replies,
pressing down on that spot again. It sends a jolt of pleasure down my
spine, and straight down my cock. "There's another spot in your wrist
that'd give you a numb feeling all over, but that's a lesson for
another day."
Shit, I'm *so* hard. "God, what *else* don't I know about you yet?" I
ask.
"A lot, I'm sure. But you'll learn it all, in time," he says.
Oh my god. That's the first time he's ever given me any indication
that he sees this as a long-term-- "WILL!" I scream, when he bites my
shoulder, hard. He didn't draw blood, but I'm sure there are tooth
marks now.
"Did I *tell* you not to brood?" he growls, grazing his lips against
my ear.
"Sorry," I reply, rather than arguing. To him, any extended silence
must be brooding, and whatever. I'll just humor him. I'd rather save
deep thoughts for later, anyway.
"Okay then," he says. He slides his hands down my back to my ass,
kneading it and making me even *harder*. I'm going to lose it again.
Maybe *I* needed the cock strap--
ohhhhhhshiiiiiiit! "WILLLLLLLLLLLL!" I yell as I come, so
unexpectedly I can't get a hand to my cock to stop it.
When I regain my senses, he's still massaging me, now working on my
legs. "Geez, Angelus, you'd think you haven't been having sex
regularly, as worked up as you are tonight," he replies, and I hear
the smile in his voice.
"It's what you do to me," I tell him.
"Yeah, but usually you're more in control," he says. "So I'd love to
know what caused that last orgasm," he says finally. "What'd I do
right this time?"
"Everything," I reply.
It's *his* turn to be quiet for once.
*****
Bloody hell, that romantic shit gets me every fuckin' time. I can't
think of any witty comeback, so I decide to just focus on making him
moan some more. I massage his feet for a minute and there's a
moan. "Turn over," he says, smacking his ass.
He rolls over, and damn, he really has it bad. His eyes roam my body,
he licks his lips, and he's getting hard already. "Will, I need to
touch you," he says, reaching for me.
"Not yet," I smile, beginning to massage my way up my legs slowly. He
bites his lower lip and I know what he's thinkin'. But I'm not gonna
touch his cock. Yet. "Soon though," I tell him. "I need to feel you
inside me," I admit, kneading his thighs.
"Fuck... Will..." he whimpers. "Did you take lessons... in massage,
too?" he wonders.
I shake my head. "Hell, no. I just know you, what you like. I know
how to touch you to make you melt under these fingers," I wink.
"No argument....there," he sighs.
I laugh, "I like when you're so agreeable. Gotta remember to buy a
bunch o' this massage oil so I can keep you that way." I slide my
hands up to his stomach, avoiding his cock for now. He whimpers and I
grin. I watch him though, and he gets that far away look in his eyes.
"Stop fucking brooding," I demand
His hands are on my cock suddenly fisting it, and I gasp, throwing my
head back as I take in the painful pleasure. Shit, I need to come.
He's grinning at me, when I look back down at him. "I wasn't
brooding, Will," he says. "I was trying to remember how amazing it
feels when I'm inside you. And how you moan--" I do, and he laughs. "-
-like that. And --fuck!"
I had to regain control of this situation. So I pinched his nipples,
hard. "Ya know, I remember when you were more talkative like this,
during sex," I tell him. I pour more massage oil into my hands, and
tease his nipples, pinching and twisting. "I liked that."
"I'll ...work on it," he gasps. "But-ohgod" He bucks up into my hands
when they slide along his cock. He grabs the base of his erection,
holding back his orgasm. "Will....you're killing me..." he whimpers.
"You feel all relaxed?" I wonder, pouring more oil on my hands and
working them up and down his cock some more, getting him all slicked
up. Damn he's gonna feel good inside me.
"Yessssss," he hisses, arching up when I squeeze his balls
gently, "FuckWill, please..."
"Okay, your turn," I say, sliding off of his thighs and onto my
stomach.
*****
Shit, I really am relaxed, it's not easy to make myself move but I've
got a good incentive. I take a few deep breaths though, getting
myself under control enough to release my cock.
I straddle his thighs and grab the bottle of massage oil. "No, Will,
*your* turn." I pour the oil onto my hands, coating my fingers. "And
you're right, I guess I haven't been that talkative in bed," I say as
I slide a finger inside him, slowly.
"Ohhhhhhh, bloody... hell," he moans, pushing back, taking me deeper.
"It's just hard for me to think very clearly when I'm touching you,"
I say, massaging his inner walls with my finger. I smile when his
passage convulses around me. "Or when you're touching me," I
continue. I can't think of anything other than how much I love you,"
I admit.
He bucks back against me, and I lay a hand on his back. "Stay still,"
I tell him. "I know you want release, and you'll get it." I bend my
finger, finding his prostate and rubbing it, with small circles.
"GODANGEL!" he screams. He tries to push back into my touch but I
press down on his back, holding him down. "Ohfuck..." He gasps,
breathing heavily.
I bite my lip, trying to maintain control. "Shit, Will, you could
make me come just from hearing you yell my name like that," I say. I
breathe in the scent of his arousal. "But I won't. Not until I'm
inside you." I press another finger inside his hole.
"Shit," he moans.
"Talk to me," I whisper. "You wanted me to talk, I want you to talk
to *me*."
He takes a shaky breath. "Don't know.... what..."
I scissor my fingers inside him, making him gasp. "You don't have to
be eloquent," I say. "I know *I'm* not that eloquent when you're
touching me. I just... tell me what's on your mind."
"Angel...." He whimpers and thrusts his cock against the sheets when
I slide a fingertip over his prostate. "Shit... it's ...amazing..."
he says. "You always know make me want it, and you know how to touch
me to make me scream..."
"I just have a good memory," I reply. I withdraw my fingers, and he
moans. "And I had a lot of practice learning what you liked," I add.
I coat my fingers with more oil, and then press three inside him. I
slide them in slowly, letting him adjust to the invasion.
"Bloody hell yesssssss," he hisses when my fingers are completely
inside him. "Sire please--"
"Fuck," I growl, grabbing the base of my cock. He said two magic
words, as far as I'm concerned. *Sire* and *please*. I twist my
fingers inside him, scratching his prostate with all three.
"ANGEL!" he wails, bucking back, making my nails dig
deeper. "Ohfuck," he gasps. "Please, Sire," he begs.
"Please what?" I ask, pressing down on his back again, holding him
still. "Tell me what you want, Will."
*****
Yeah, I'm *really* able to form sentences, at the moment. "Need
you...inside," he moans. "Need you, filling me..."
"Okay," he whispers.
Fuck, finally! I could cry, I'm so desperate for him. I try to move
back on my knees, but he pushes me back down. "Angeelll."
"Just lie still, Lover," he says. "Let me take care of everything."
He withdraws his fingers and I can't hold back a moan. And then I
feel his cock pressing against my entrance. He grabs my hips, holding
me down as he pushes inside me, slowly. "Shit. Willllll..." he
groans. "You are so damn tight. It feels so incredible, being inside
you."
I dig my nails into the mattress, gasping for breath at the feel of
him. I force my muscles to relax, trying to let him deeper, but shit,
it's never easy. He turned me after the first time he fucked me, and
I was a virgin until that night. So I will always feel like it's our
first time, every time we're together.
Not that I'm complaining. He's gentle when I need that, so careful
not to hurt me. And, over the years he also taught the demon inside
me to welcome pain as part of our pleasure. So when he's not that
gentle, that's okay too. And he always knows how I need him, without
needing to hear me say it.
He pauses, about half-way inside me. "Talk to me, Lover," he says. "I
don't like not being able to see your eyes."
"Please," I moan. I know, that's not exactly what he wants to hear.
Well, maybe that but more. "Need... deeper," I tell him. All this
waiting is driving me insane!
"I want nothing more than to be as deep inside you as possible," he
says. "But you're too tense."
"Just fuck me, damn it," I growl. I *am* tense, and I can't bloody
help it. It's his fault; I am so turned on and I need to come.
"Not this time," he replies. "We do too much fucking, and not enough
lovemaking."
Fuckin' hell. "Angel, *pleeeease*," I whimper. I thrust my cock
against the sheets and gasp at the friction.
"I'm right here," he says, "and I'm dying to be all the way inside
you." He swivels his hips, and the tip of his cock brushes my
prostate. I bite the pillow to muffle my scream. "You just have to
let me in, Will," he says. "Relax your muscles, take me in; you know
how. I've taught you how to control yourself."
I *do* know how, but fuck *me*, I haven't been this desperate for him
in a long time. But he's right, he taught me so damn well. I take a
deep breath, willing myself to loosen up.
"That's it," he whispers, pushing deeper. He groans. "God... you feel
too damn good surrounding me, Will. Nobody feels this good."
Nobody??? I seriously doubt that, but it's nice to hear anyway. I'm
just a good pupil. I know what he likes, I give him what he wants.
And finally. "Ohmygod," I moan. He's completely inside me, and
*damn*. I tighten my walls around him, gasping at the feeling.
"Fuck," he growls, leaning over me and nipping at my
shoulder. "Squeeze me harder," he groans.
I do, and he cries out, bucking his hips against me. I groan as the
movement jolts my prostate. "Move, damn it. Pleeeeeease, you're
torturin' me."
*****
"Turnabout is fair play," I tease, kissing the back of his neck. "But
I'm about to lose it completely, so you're probably right."
I roll us onto our sides, and slide a hand around his waist, brushing
my fingers over his cock. "ANGEL!" he ... it's almost a sob, and he
bucks forward. He's hurting, I can tell.
I move my hand down to his cock strap, and he grabs my hand. "Not
yet," he says. "Not until you come inside me."
Shit, he always knows what to say to get his way. I move my hand back
to his hip, and then roll my hips, moving just a little inside him.
He gasps, reaching for me. I take his hand in mine, and wrap my arm
around his stomach. "Just tell me when it gets to be too much for
you," I say.
He nods, "Fine... just move, please *move*."
I do, moving my hips just a little, sliding my cock just barely out
and then back in. The angle is perfect, I can feel my cock moving
against his prostate. He whimpers, threading his fingers through mine
and holding on tight. "William," I whisper, grazing my teeth along
his earlobe. "Tell me what you're feeling."
He moans. "Can't..." he gasps. "I..." He shakes his head.
Damn it, I can feel how close I am to breaking down that wall between
us. He's protected himself so fiercely from me, and I've tried so
fucking hard to show him he doesn't *have* to. I pull my hips back a
little more, and then thrust in quickly, making him whimper. "I think
you can," I say. "I just need to know, Will. I need to know if you
feel even *half* of what I feel when we're together like this."
He's silent for a minute, and I keep moving. I need this, Will.
Please don't shut me out. "At least tell me if I'm half as good as
other lovers," I say, nibbling on his shoulder.
"No...comparison," he moans.
"Yeah?" I can't help smiling, it's nice to know that. "So I know how
to fuck you better--"
"The only," he gasps.
"What...?" I stop moving, because I can't believe--
"Ohfuck, don't stop," he begs, thrusting back against me.
"Sorry," I say, and start thrusting my hips again. He whimpers and I
say. "What do you mean, Will? The only?"
"I've never wanted ..." he trails off and mutters, "shit."
He's still protecting himself. "Go on," I try to encourage him. I
kiss his throat and say, "You never wanted...?"
He sighs. "I ...ohfuuuuck," he arches his back when I hit his
prostate just right again. "I never wanted... never let... anyone
else inside me," he says, quietly.
OH my god. "Why?" I ask. I groan when he clamps the walls of his
passage down around my cock, sending me right to the edge. I manage
to maintain control, though; I was taught that by *my* sire too.
"Because of how fucking unbelievably perfect it feels with you," he
says softly. "It wouldn't... feel that right with someone else."
Fuck me. "God, Will..." I don't know what to say; I'm just shocked.
And happy. And shit, I'm the *only* one? Well, besides The Mas--NOT
thinking about that. Just this moment. Just being with my William,
and he's being so fucking vulnerable tonight, and I love him so damn
much.
"You are incredible," I whisper. I withdraw my cock just slightly,
and he continues to squeeze me. I moan, moving, back inside him, and
the friction is so fucking ... Perfect. He was right, it's just
*perfect*. "And god, I agree. I don't think I can put into words how
amazing, how perfect you feel when I'm inside you. You know *me* so
well too, how to make me scream, moan, and whimper. I love you,
William, *so* much."
I move my hips in a circular motion, trying to make contact with his
prostate. "OHGODSIRE!" he screams when I do, and he clamps down
around my cock even *harder.* "Please, oh please, I need to come," he
whimpers.
I try to pull my hand away from his, but he's got a death grip on
it. "Let go of my hand Will, just for a second," I whisper. He shakes
his head and I nip at his earlobe. "Come on. You want to come; let go
of my hand."
*****
Oh god, I'm losing it. He keeps pressing his cock against my
prostate, and I am *so* hard, and I want him so much. But I can't,
it'll be too intense, and I've never... well there was once, but that
was when-- "No," I moan. "Not yet. You come, inside me. I want to
feel that."
He nuzzles my throat, grazing his teeth on the skin. "I know you want
release, Will. Let me give it to you." He shifts his hips slightly
and I gasp as he presses into my prostate again.
I let go of his hand and he suckles my earlobe. "Thank you," he
whispers. He slides his hand down to my cock and I buck against his
touch, with a whimper. I grab his arm, just because I need to fucking
hold on to *something.*
He starts to move again, sliding his cock back and forth along my
bloody prostate, and I can't take the fucking pressure building up
inside me. "Annnngellll," I moan.
"I know," he says, lips brushing my ear. "I'm going to release your
cock now. Just hold on, a little bit...ohfuck..." Damn right, I still
have *some* power. Like the ability to squeeze him like nobody else!
"Don't come yet," he says. He seems to be waiting for something, so I
nod. Then he unbuckles the strap, and removes it from my erection.
"Shiiiiiiiit!" I'm bloody well close to tears it hurts so fucking
*good*. I bite my lip and it takes every ounce of will power not to
come. That and I don't want to. I just know this is gonna *hurt*.
He slides his fingers over my cock, and "FUCK!" he slicked them up
with the oil when I wasn't paying attention. "Angel, I can't--"
"I know it hurts, Will," he says. "Let go, I promise it'll be the
most amazing feeling. Just give in; stop fighting it." He kisses my
shoulder.
"Noooo," I moan. I bloody well *can't* it's too fucking *much!*
*****
He's trembling, from the intensity of what he's feeling. "Do you
trust me, Will?" I ask.
Silence. "Yes," he whispers, finally.
I breathe a sigh of relief. Part of that wall just crumbled. "Then
let go," I urge him. "Let your release come, Will, and trust me. I
will not let go of you; I promise."
He takes in a shaky breath and nods. I start moving inside him again,
and he sobs. I tighten my fist around him, and start to stroke him in
time with my thrusts. "Angel....I..."
I stroke him even harder, and he gasps. He clamps his muscles around
me and I hold on. Not yet. I continue to work his prostate and his
cock, and he thrashes his head back and forth... "Shit..." he moans.
So close, but he's still afraid to let go. I pull back even farther,
and thrust back inside at the same moment I rake my fingernails up
his oversensitized cock.
"OOOOHHHGOOOOOOOOODANGELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!" He screams. "Shit,
Angel..." He whimpers, thrashing around as he comes, and he's shaking
uncontrollably. I hold onto him like I promised as I keep touching
him and thrusting in and out, prolonging his orgasm. He whimpers and
moans and--"OHgodIloveyoooooooouuuuuuu!"
Ohshit. I'm done for. I moan his name as I climax, shooting my seed
inside him.
When I come to my senses, he's still trembling and whimpering from
the aftershocks of the intense orgasm he just
experienced. "Holy...fuck," he says.
"I can second that sentiment," I reply with a smile. And I wonder if
he remembers what he said. Or which one of us will mention it first?
Not me. I'm too much of a coward. What if he didn't really mean it.
What if it was just something that popped out of his mouth, in the
moment, and it's not how he--
"No fucking BROODING!" he yells.
I laugh. How the hell would he know that, when he can't see my eyes?
Eyes. That's what... "Ohgod..." I groan.
He's squeezing my cock, repeatedly, bringing me back to full
erection. But I want... I pull out of him and he
whimpers. "Patience," I say, pulling him onto his back and then
pushing his legs up so I can slide back into him. That's better.
"Hell..." he moans.
"Ready for more?" I ask, with a thrust.
"Godyes," he groans, arching up against me. He grips my shoulders,
wrapping his legs around my waist, and sighs. "I love demon stamina,"
he smiles.
I laugh, leaning down to kiss him, as I start to move. I start to
thrust my tongue into his mouth, in time with the thrusts of my cock,
and for some reason I just know we're not going to last long this
time.
He groans, digging his fingernails into my shoulders, and I growl at
the scent of blood. I shift and then I realize he has too. I scrape
my tongue along one of his fangs and he screams into my mouth as he
comes.
*****
BLOODY HELL he's gonna be the death o' me! And he didn't come too;
well that's not allowed. I'm still coming hard, but I have the
presence of mind left to rake my nails down his back, drawing blood.
"WILLLLLLLLLLL!" He roars, tearing his mouth away as he comes. And I
whimper at the feeling of his cool seed filling me again. Why the
fuck would I ever have even wanted to *try* to find this with another
lover? I knew it wouldn't ever happen *twice*. This kind of
perfection you only find with one person. If you're *lucky.*
He collapses on top of me, mumbling, "I love you."
Yeah. I love you too, ya big Pouf. Maybe someday... No. I can't ever
tell you. If I let you know, and *then* you left me?
I just--
"I thought I was the brooder around here," he whispers in my ear.
I open my eyes and look at him. "Wasn't brooding. Just thinkin'."
"About?" he wonders.
"About ... " My stomach growls then. Saved, because he's such a
bloody worrier--
"Will, have you fed tonight?" he asks.
I smile. "No, guess I haven't," I shrug.
He gives me *that* look, and pulls away, letting his cock slip out of
my hole. We *both* whimper, and that makes me chuckle. He shakes his
head as he gets up, walking into the kitchen area. "You shouldn't go
without--"
"Oh bloody hell, Angelus, not like I purposely *didn't* feed. I just
forgot," I say, getting to my feet and following him. And fuck, I'm a
little sore. I like that.
*****
"Fuck you are so--" I break off before saying 'beautiful.' He always
hated when I refered to him that way.
He grins, leaning back against the counter. "Sooo...."
Okay, he asked. "Beautiful." He rolls his eyes, and I walk over,
pressing against him. "Sexy." I kiss him. "Perfect." I slide my hands
through his hair and add, "Mine?" I make it a question, because I
very much wouldn't presume something like that anymore.
He just grins. And I know that look. That's the 'wouldn't *you* like
to know?' look. Fine. I can deal with that. For now.
He reaches over to open the microwave and pull out two mugs. "Shall
we go back to the bed?" he suggests.
"Yeah," I agree. I follow him, admiring his ass as we walk.
He sits down and grins. I wonder sometimes if he reads my mind, or
maybe that was just the scent of my desire. "Damn, Angel, when are
you gonna be satisfied?" he asks.
I take the mug out of his hand, and put both of them on the bedside
table. I sit back against the headboard, pulling him over between my
legs. "Never," I tell him, wrapping my arms around his waist. "Not
tonight, not in a year, not ever. I could never get enough of you."
He chuckles. "You're gonna give me a big head, you keep that up."
"I'm sure I'm not the only one who finds you irresistable," I say. I
reach over for the mugs and instead grab one of the toys. The dildo.
I grin and put it behind me under the pillow. Later.
I grab the mugs and hand him one. "Thanks," he says, taking it. "So,
now what?"
I shrug, taking a swallow of the blood. "I don't know, Will. Shower?"
*****
"I suppose that'd be a good idea, if we don't want to end up getting
stuck together," I agree. "Hey, you don't think Dawn heard,
earlier... do ya?" I ask. I was kinda... loud.
"Well, she has to know we're sexually active, Will," he says. "We
share a bed, and she's not stupid. I don't know if she heard; it's
too late to worry about it now."
I wish he wouldn't be so logical. "I just don't want her thinking
about that shit," I say.
"Why?" he asks. "She knows we... she knows I love you. She told me
she's happy we're together, making each other happy."
"She's just a kid, I don't--"
"She's not as innocent as either of us would like," he says. "The
hellmouth isn't a good place to preserve innocence. But she's happy,
and she's healthy, and we're giving her a good life. So you don't
need to worry."
I hate it when he reads between the lines, reads my mind. "Whatever,"
I shrug, finishing off the blood. "Let's get that shower, I'm almost
too tired to move." I get up and walk into the bathroom. At least it
won't be a cold shower this time. That's a good..."OH!" I yell,
running past him back into the bedroom. Bag. Where's the fucking bag.
"Will?"
"Got one more toy I didn't show ya," I tell him. "There it is." I
pull out the tube and walk back over to him, putting it in his hand.
"Waterproof..." He grins. "Thought you were too tired to move?" he
asks.
"Said *almost* too tired," I tell him, walking into the bathroom and
turning on the faucets. "There's a difference."
*****
I chuckle as I walk over and press up against him from behind. "Lucky
for me," I say, sliding my arms around him.
He sighs, and steps into the tub. I don't let go, following him. I
push us both under the warm spray, and turn him around so I can kiss
him. I groan into his mouth when he takes my cock in his hands,
stroking me back to full erection. He takes advantage of the moment
to push his tongue into my mouth, and I suck on it greedily, savoring
the remnants of the blood there.
I slide my hands down his back to his ass, squeezing it as I thrust
my cock into his hands. He whimpers as I work a finger back inside
him, finding and rubbing his prostate. I leave his mouth reluctantly,
licking my way to his shoulder. I bite down hard enough to draw just
a little blood, and suck at the wound eagerly.
"ANGEL!" he yells, arching against me. He's hard already, I feel his
erection pressing into my hip. "Shit," he moans.
"Turn around, Will," I say, biting his earlobe playfully.
He does, facing the wall, and I take the lube, pressing it up to his
hole. I push it inside a little, and then squeeze. "SHITANGEL!" I
squeeze some onto my cock, covering it fully, before tossing the tube
away.
"I hope you're ready," I whisper in his ear as I start to push inside
him.
"Yes, god YES!" he yells.
"OhfuuuuuuuuuckWiiiiiiiilll," I moan as I slide into his passage. I
pull out completely, before thrusting back in again. He whimpers and
I grin, sliding a hand around to his cock.
"Yeeeeeessssss," he hisses, thrusting into my grasp. "Angelfuckme!"
"Whatever you want, Will," I say. "I told you... you're
irresistable."
*****
And then he starts thrusting, hard, and fast, and I let out a very
unmanly shriek. I bloody well hope Dawn sleeps soundly. If she
doesn't, we'll have to move her up to a higher floor, like the fifth,
where Fred is.
"OHGODFUCK!" I yell as he shifts a little, hitting my prostate. I
thrust into his hand as he thrusts into my ass and I can't stay
standing much longer.
"Will...I'm...so...close," he groans. He pulls completely out of my
passage.
"HEY!" I yell and "BLOOOOOOODYHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLL!" I scream
when he slams back into me, sending me over the edge into orgasm. My
legs give out and he slides an arm around my waist, holding me up. I
vaguely hear him shout my name, and I feel him soothing my insides
with his seed yet again.
"Will?" he asks.
"Did I *mention* bloody hell?" I wonder. I still can't fucking stand,
my legs are shaking.
He chuckles and kisses my throat. "I think I did hear that," he
says. "Other than that, are you all right?" he asks as his cock slips
out of my body.
"I could sleep a week," I tell him. "But that's what three orgasms
in ...what, an hour? That's what that'll do to me."
"Understandable," he says. He moves us back under the spray and
sighs. "I think I'm sated enough for sleep, as well."
"It's about fuckin' *time*," I growl. But I'm not angry. Shit, I
absolutely love the way he makes me feel.
"Oh, you loved those three orgasms and we *both* know that," he says.
Busted.
*****
He's exhausted, but I can't blame him. And shit, I don't mind any
opportunity to hold him close. "Bed, Angelus," he says.
"Right," I nod. I turn off the faucets and then help him out of the
shower. I grab a towel, handing it to him. "Can you stand?"
"No but I can sit," he says, hopping up on the sink and grinning at
me.
"Whatever works," I chuckle, leaning in for a quick kiss. I grab
another towel and then walk into the bedroom. I strip the sheets off
the bed, quickly, and toss them in a hamper. Then I get new ones out
of my closet, making the bed again.
"Angel. There's neat, and then there's neat freak. I'll give you two
guesses which category you fall into."
I look over to see him standing in the doorway grinning at me. "If I
wasn't neat, we'd both be living like slobs," I say. I stand, drying
myself quickly. "I just thought you might like a bed in which you
didn't have to avoid wet spots," I shrug.
"I *like* a bed that smells like us," he says, walking over and lying
down.
I wonder if he's too tired to know what he's saying? Probably. But
I'm going to enjoy it while I can. "We can work on that after we
sleep," I say, crawling over to him and kissing him. I lie on my
side, and pull him back against me.
"You gonna let me sleep now?" he asks.
"In a minute," I tell him. I reach under the pillow for the dildo,
and then to the table for the massage oil. "Have I mentioned how much
I love you?" I asked.
"Think... you might've," he sighs.
*****
"Will?"
Bloody hell! "What," I say. "I'm fucking *tired.*"
"I know you are. But just stay with me, I'm not quite done with you
yet," he says.
"Annnnnngeeeeeeelllll," I ...whine.
"Shh," he whispers into my ear. "Open your eyes."
I sigh, and ...*fuck* me. The dildo. Forgot about that. "You want me
to sleep with that thing inside me?" And as I say it, I *know* it's a
dumb question.
"I do," he replies. "But it's your choice, I won't make--"
"Fucking don't start brooding or the answer's no," I tell him.
"Oka--hey. That implies the answer otherwise is..."
I sigh. Shit, he's making me sigh a lot lately. "Yes, Pouf, the
answer's yes."
He turns me around to face him, and then kisses me, possessively.
Fuck...And SHIT...He pushes that thing against my hole and I groan as
he slides it IN.... I wrap a leg around his waist, making it
easier....Fuck it's almost as thick as his cock. Feels so damn good.
Almost as good as him.
"Angel," I moan, tearing my mouth away when he works it even deeper.
And finally, it's all the way inside me.
"Look at me," he says.
I didn't realize I shut them. I meet his gaze and he smiles. "Is
it..."
"Fucking amazing," I tell him. "Now can I get some shut-eye?"
"You'll be able to sleep?" he asks.
"Angel, I am fucking exhausted, I won't have any trouble sleeping," I
tell him.
"Okay then." He rolls onto his back and I curl up against his
side. "Sweet dreams, Will."
That will definitely *not* be a problem.
*****
I wake up and turn over, but Spike's already up. I'm disappointed,
but at the same time it's better that way. If he were here, I'd just
be tempted to stay in bed. Especially after the amazing hours we
spent together last night.
I get up and pull on a t-shirt and khakis, and I really hope The
Powers were listening when I made those reservations last night,
before Spike got home.
He *isn't* going to be happy when he finds out I made reservations
for the ballet. But I'll just have to make it up to him, over and
over and over again, later.
"Hey Angel," Fred says when I reach the lobby. "Good news! We haven't
gotten any calls, and Cordy hasn't had a vision. So does that mean we
can go tonight?"
"Go where?" Spike asks from his spot on top of the counter.
"The ballet, didn't he tell you?" she asks.
"Nooooo," he says, glaring at me. "He neglected to mention that, last
night. And since you're this excited about the ballet," he says to
her, "I'm guessing you've never been before." He scowls at me
again. "Just wait til you've been there an hour, you'll be wanting to
stake Angel for putting you through that torture." That glare doesn't
reach his eyes, so I'm not concerned that he's *that* angry with me.
"Oh come on, Spike, it'll be fun," Cordelia says, walking out of the
office and joining me on the couch.
"Fun?!" he replies. "Cordelia, *fun* is--"
"Think before you finish that sentence," I warn him. With the mood
he's in, he was probably going to say something perverted.
"*You're* the one with the dirty mind, Angelus," he smiles. "I was
*goin'* to say, fun is a poker game, *not* the ballet."
Right, I'm sure *that's* what he was going to say.
*****
Bloody hell, I cannot believe of all the things all of us could do
together, he chose the ballet. But that's Angel for ya. No taste in
social activities. Oh well; on the bright side, he does look
delicious in a tuxedo.
"I never thought I'd say this, but I agree with Spike," Gunn says as
he walks in. "And that's really scary, but *shit* Man, the *ballet*??"
"No more whining," Queen Cordelia demands. "All of us have *never*
done anything social together outside of the job, and I think this is
a great idea. So we *will* go to the ballet, and every single one of
you will have fun." She stands. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going
to change, and help Dawn do her hair." She runs upstairs.
"I should change too," Fred says, following Cordelia.
"Yeah," Gunn says, heading to the nearest restroom downstairs, with
his tux.
Now it's just me and my sire. I like these moments. "I guess we
should get changed, too," he says, walking up to me. "How sore are
you, by the way?"
I shrug. "A little, but in a good way. But don't change the bloody
subject, ya Pouf. The *ballet*????" he asks. "Okay, you're *really*
not daft enough to think I'm going with you, are ya?" I ask.
"Oh, you're going, Will," he smiles. He grabs my waist and pulls me
off the counter. Once I'm on my feet, the floor decides to tilt, and
*shit.* He pulls me against him until I regain my balance. I fucking
hate being this weak, but I guess I've been overdoing it a little.
After a week without being able to move, I can't expect to recover
and instantly be as strong as I was before. Not after only a couple
days, especially.
The room stops spinning and I push him away. And I wish he'd stop
looking at me like that every time I get a little dizzy. "Angel, stop
worrying about me, I'm not a fucking invalid!"
"I know that," he says, stepping back and raising his hands
apologetically. "And I'm trying not to hover, Spike, but I can't help
worrying. I came *so* close to losing—"
"Angel!" I yell. "Bloody hell, I made a choice to save yer stupid
arse and I got hurt. Oh well, shit happens, but I'm okay now, so get
over it!!!" And there's the damn puppy dog eyes, but I will *not*
feel bad for yelling at him. I won't. He has to start treating me
like the hundred thirty year old demon I *am*. Just because I got
hurt, doesn't mean I'm gonna fucking break any second!
"Right, fine, I'm sorry," he says. And those fucking *eyes*...
Fucking HELL!
I sigh, "I didn't mean to snap at you." I hate him for turning me
into such a pansy. "And what makes you so sure I'm going to the
bloody ballet?" I ask.
"I'm sure because once you think about how much I will *owe* you for
your sacrifice, I can't imagine you would refuse," he replies with a
grin.
"Just how much-- no, let's finish this discussion upstairs where we
won't be interrupted," I say, and walk past him up the stairs. Of
course I can think of hundreds of ways he can make it up to me, but I
can't wait to hear more about what his idea of owing me is.
Once we're in our room, and the door is closed, I turn back to
him. "So just how much will you owe me, Angel?" I wonder.
"Well..." He walks up and tips my chin up so he can kiss me. He
slides his tongue into my mouth and [I] suck on it with a groan. He
always tastes so damn good, I can't ever get enough. He breaks away
after a minute, and says, "I know you despise the ballet, the opera,
and everything of that nature, Will. But I would be *very* grateful
if you'd come; I wouldn't want to spend five minutes away from you,
let alone two or three hours."
"How grateful?" I ask.
"So grateful," he says, sliding his arms around my waist, "that if
you come to the ballet with us now, when we get home, I will be all
yours for the rest of the night."
I like the sound of that, but still, he's being pretty vague. Wasn't
he all mine *last* night? As fun as it was, I want clear promises of
something very different if I'm going to consent to this torture
by "music." "Define 'all yours'" I say.
"It means whatever you want it to mean," he answers with a
shrug. "You can do anything you want to or with me, from the time we
come back here until the sun comes up."
"*Any*thing," I say.
He nods.
"Does anything include me fucking you?" I ask, and shit, what am I,
brain damaged now??? "I didn't ask that," I say as I pull away. "I
didn't *mean* that, Sire, I'm sorry, please--"
*****
He pulls out of my arms, tries to apologize, and shit, he's
afraid. "WILLIAM--" I cut him off, and that doesn't help. Damn it!
He's even more afraid, and now he's gone full submissive, gaze
lowered to the floor, and FUCK he's trembling.
This is the *last* thing I ever wanted again: his fear. And I thought
we fucking made *progress* last night, damn it!
"Will it's--" I reach for him, and even though he flinches away, I
take his arm. "Will, look at me," I request. He won't, maybe he
can't, and god, *I* did this. I ingrained this fear in him so deeply
that it resurfaces if he even just *thinks* about something
that's "forbidden."
And I know when I turned him into someone who feared me so much. It
was when I first lost my soul again, when I was so full of hate and
anger that I didn't care *what* I did. When I finally decided to take
my bitch of a sire's advice and convince Spike that I hated him, that
there was nothing I *wouldn't* do to him... *that's* when I broke
him. And now instead of being proud of myself, I *hate* myself. I
want nothing more than to fix him, change him back to the stubborn
brat who wasn't afraid of anything, not even *me*.
"Will, look at me, *please*," I say again, hoping the 'please' will
get him.
It does, and he looks up, warily. And I know now, when I see all that
repressed pain in those eyes, that someday we *will* have to talk
about those days. If we have *any* hope of a future, we have no
choice but to face our past. Even the parts of it he wants to, but
can't, forget.
"Do I look angry with you?" I ask him.
He studies my face for a moment. "No," he says, but his eyes are
still suspicious.
"That's because I'm not," I reply. "I was surprised, but not
unpleasantly so," I admit. In fact, since I'm painfully hard, I'm
very much *interested* in letting him fuck me. I think. I just
haven't really thought about--okay, I take that back. I *have*
thought about it. But only occasionally. It's against all our lore,
contrary to the most basic rule of the sire/childe relationship: the
childe *never* dominates the sire.
"Are you saying you'd actually *consider*..." He looks like he's
waiting for the catch, the moment I start beating him or--
STOP. Concentrate.
"Why not?" I ask as I sit down on the bed, pulling him to sit next to
me. "Will, you can talk to me, about *anything*, without being afraid-
-"
"I'm NOT--"
I put a hand over his mouth to stifle the angry response. "Stop. It's
me you're talking to. You can't deny what you feel around me," I
say. "But I'll let it go, because it's not even the point. My point
is that I want to give you everything you want, Will, no matter what
it is. So you can tell me what that is, and I won't be angry. Even if
it *is* something I wouldn't have considered in the past, so what?
I'm not the same anymore, and neither are you. We've both changed,
and I want *us* to be different too. Better."
He doesn't say anything, but he still looks wary. "And I would be
lying to you if I said I've *never* thought about what it would feel
like to have you inside me." He looks shocked. Doesn't he know how
incredibly desirable he is? How can anyone look at him and not want
him? "And in the past there were reasons I would never have
contemplated allowing something like that. But those reasons don't
exist anymore, because you are *not* just my childe. You never really
were, but now I'm willing to admit that to myself as well as you. I
love you, Will, more than anyone else on this earth. And I *trust*
you more than anyone else on this earth," I say. "So yes, I would let
you fuck me tonight, if that's what you want."
He just stares at me in disbelief. And after a minute, I start to
worry, but then he grabs the back of my head and pulls me to him for
a kiss. I let him pull me back onto the bed. He groans and tears his
mouth away, gasping, "Fuck me right now, Angel." I must not move fast
enough because he adds, "I *need* you inside me again, and NOW. We
have at least thirty minutes before Cordelia will be ready, so put
those minutes to good use!"
I can't argue, and I can't deny him something he clearly wants. And
maybe this is just him testing me, to make sure I'm really *not* mad
at him, but it's not the first time we've had sex just for the simple
reason that he needs reassurance about us. So I raise myself up on
one hand, while I reach down to unfasten his jeans with the other.
He's already undone my button and zipper, and is stroking my cock. I
groan and thrust into his grip. I'm so painfully hard, and he is so
fucking good at that.
"Fuck me," he demands, turning over onto his stomach. I move back so
he can get on his hands and knees and oh FUCK. "Will... you've
been... the dildo's been inside you all this time?" That's what's
called a rhetorical question.
"Angel, I think I'll use a popular Sunnydale response," he
chuckles. "Duh."
Right. I pull it out, slowly, and then grab the massage oil. "Don't
need it," he says. "Fuck me!"
"But you're not ready--"
"Fucking *hell*," he growls. "I'm telling you I'm ready, I've been
telling you that for five fucking minutes, so FUCK ME!"
I clamp a hand over his mouth, and dig my fingernail against his
prostate. He gasps and shudders. "Fine," I say, withdrawing my finger
from his hole. "Just try not to scream too loudly. I prefer not to
explain that to Cordelia, Fred, and Gunn later." Then I thrust inside
him, and he *does* scream.
And I smell blood. Shit, I knew--
"Don't you *dare* fucking stop!" he growls when I start to pull out.
"But I hurt you," I whisper. Shit, what is *wrong* with me?! How
could I--
"Shit, Angel!" he yells. He grabs one of my hands and presses it
against his erect cock. "Sometimes a little pain makes the pleasure
more intense," he says. "You taught me that, remember?"
Oh god, do I. And those were fun lessons. "But--"
"No buts," he replies. "I'm fine, you would *know* if I wasn't!" He
pushes back against me, taking me even deeper, making us both groan.
Good point. I remember how he makes it known when he's *not* okay--
Bad thoughts, not good if I want to stay hard. He wants me. That's
all that matters. "I love you," I whisper and nuzzle his neck as I
start to move, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back
in quickly.
He tightens his muscles around me each time I enter him, and if he
keeps that up, I won't last long. But I guess we don't have time to
make it last. I speed up my thrusts and he whimpers, "Faster. Yes...
Angel..."
"Will," I groan. "You feel so good."
"Drink me," he gasps.
Shit. I shift into game face and slide my fangs into his neck. The
moment that his blood hits my throat, I climax, spilling my seed
inside him.
"Angel please," he whimpers, and I raise my arm to his mouth. He
sinks his fangs into my wrist and screams as his orgasm hits. He
collapses and I roll us onto our sides, remaining inside him, as we
continue to drink from each other.
"Angel!"
Shit, it's Cordy. "Yeah, five minutes!" I call, trying to remember if
I locked the door. I sure as hell hope I did. I pull out of Spike,
making him groan. I grab the sheet and wipe myself and him clean with
it. "Are you ... okay?" I ask when I see the blood.
"Bloody hell, you know how to ruin a moment," he says, rolling over
to look at me. "Pain isn't always a bad thing; you used to know that.
I enjoyed myself, so stop brooding. We gotta get dressed now." He
gets up and to his feet, but sways again.
Fuck. I jump up and grab him, holding him against me. And I am such
an ass sometimes. He doesn't need me drinking from him when he's
still weak. "Drink, Childe," I tell him. "You need it."
He sighs and nods, before he shifts and bites into my throat again. I
groan, and sit on the bed, pulling him with me. He straddles me and
continues to drink, deeply. I smile when I hear him start to purr. He
doesn't do that often, only when he's absolutely content. He pulls
away finally, and gets to his feet. "You stay there; I'm going to
bring *you* some blood," he says. "I took more than I should have."
"You can take as much as you need, in order to get well again," I
tell him. "It's the least I can do."
He shakes his head as he comes back to me after putting a mug of
blood in the microwave. "If you're trying to make up for last time,
stop," he says. "You *can't*, first of all, and second of all..." he
shrugs, "It's over and forgotten."
He starts to get dressed, and damn, I forgot how sexy he looks in a
tux. I wish we didn't have to leave right *now*, because I'm hard
again. "Is it really?" I ask him.
He looks back at me, and is silent for a moment. "As *good* as
forgotten," he shrugs. "If it weren't, I wouldn't be here." He turns
and goes to the microwave, bringing me back the cup.
"Thanks," I say. "And... I understand that you don't want to dredge
up those old memories; I don't either. But if you ever did... if you
needed to, I'd do my best to explain things, or just listen to you if
you needed to talk... rant... scream."
He looks away and nods. "Well, I don't. Okay?"
"Whatever *you* want, Will," I tell him.
He looks down at my erection, and smiles. "Get dressed. What I'll
want later is you *owing* me for this so-called cultural
experience."
"Oh, I'm not going to forget what we agreed on, Will," I say, walking
over to him. I kiss him, quickly. "I'll be thinking about it all
night, I'm sure," I add. I get my tux out of the closet and get
dressed.
"ANGEL!"
"Come on in, Cordelia," I call, working on my bowtie.
"I was wondering where Spike--" she falls silent when she sees
him. "Okay, question answered. Are you two ready?"
"Yeah, let's go," I reply, following her out of the room.
*****
Ten minutes later
"Good evening-"
"Sod off," I growl at the usher as I walk by, grabbing a program.
"Spike."
I sigh and turn back to Angel. "What? I don't like people, Angel.
Especially people that are being fake-happy. And bloody hell, you
didn't tell me it was *Giselle*!" I add, shoving the program in his
face. "I hated it the last time I saw it, why would you insist on
torturing me with it again?!"
"God, you are such a whiner!" Cordelia interjects and I have never
wished that I could tear her head off more than I do right now.
"Time out!" Dawn yells, shoving her way in between us, and grabbing
me by the arm, pulling me away from the rest of them. "Spike, please
stop. You're going to ruin this for all of us."
Shit. "I'm sorry, Pet," I say, and I am. "I know I've been an asshole
since we got in the car. No more, I promise. I want *you* at least to
have fun."
She smiles. "Thanks, and I will if *you'll* try to have fun. What's
wrong, anyway?"
"Nothing." And nothing is currently hanging on Angel's arm, flirting
and acting like they're a fucking *couple*. *She* sat up front with
him, she has been talking non-stop since we left the hotel, making
him forget I even exist.
"Right, nothing… so why do you look like you want to bite Cordelia?"
Dawn asks.
I look back at her. "You have to stop that," I tell her.
"Stop what?"
"Reading me so easily. It's a little frightening," I reply. I look
back over at Angel, but that just makes me want to kill someone. No,
make that several hundred someones. So I turn back to Dawn.
"Hey, I know you, Spike, and I know how you feel about Angel," she
says. "And I also know how he feels about you. You don't have
anything to worry about Cordy. So what if she has feelings for Angel—"
"WHAT?!" All right, that was a little too loud. "She does?" I ask
more quietly.
She nods and then says, "Hey guys. So where are the seats?" And so
much for our conversation, because now we're walking up stairs all
together, like the happy family we are NOT. But maybe Dawn's right
and I don't have to worry. Angel does care about me, he's made that
clear. And he's not interested in Cordelia. Is he?
"I couldn't get six seats together," he says with a shrug. "Two here,
four in the row right in front."
"You and I can sit in these two," Cordelia says to Angel.
Bloody. Fucking. Hell.
*****
Spike's seriously pissed about something. I can tell because he only
sits that still when he's controlling his temper. If he were in an
okay mood, and we were at the ballet, he'd normally be fidgeting, and
looking around, and sighing incessantly. But he hasn't moved since he
sat down, and he hasn't uttered a single sigh. So what the hell did I
do???
There's nothing I can do about it now; I might as well enjoy the
ballet. Hey, she looks like the girl they had back in 1890. But
that's ridiculous, of course. It's got to be someone new… And he
looks the same. And so does she…
Either this company casts a definite type of people, or there's
something not so normal about this ballet company. I don't *sense*
any demons though, other than Spike. And he is really mad. Ten
minutes of this and no sign that he's bored by it all? I have to
catch him at –
Okay, this is getting seriously weird. I grab Cordelia's binoculars
to see the stage better. It's the same girl. They're all the same.
How is that possible? If they're not demons, then they're human. But
if they're human, they all would have died long ago.
I'll have to tell the others at intermission. After I talk to Spike.
No. Before I talk to Spike. Personal problems come after saving the
world; I have to remember that.
*****
Stupid fucking ex-cheerleader bitch. Just the kind of girl Angelus
goes for, too. Well she's not getting her claws on him if *I* have
any say about it. I'll kill her first. And oh the fun I could have.
It's been *so* long since I've had that kind of fun. I could feed
*her* to a Pokra. Or, I could skin her alive, then toss her in a vat
of acid. Or, I could drain her, but no, that's too damn boring. I
know! I could turn her and then stake her. Technically, I'd just be
killing an evil demon, so that's the best plan yet. The one least
likely to get Angel mad at me, as long as he doesn't figure out I
turned her in the first place. Of course, first the chip has to come
out. But that *doesn't* have to deter me. I could pay a vampire to
turn her and then I'd be able to stake her.
I miss the good old days when I had minions and I didn't have to
*pay* vampires to do things for me.
Bloody hell, she sings like she's being tortured. Hey. She looks
familiar. I know the character's supposed to look a certain way, but
this is definite déjà vu. And her lover-boy, hell I remember that
nancy boy. Yeah, he pranced around *just* *like* that.
No way they're demons, my nose isn't getting any scent other than
human from them. Wonder what it is, then? Wonder if Angel has
realized it? No, I will *not* look back at him, I'm mad at him. And
I'm not going to help him with whatever the hell this is. If these
people found a way to live forever and do their stupid ballet, I
don't see any harm in it. Other than the harm caused to those of us
who have good taste.
Intermission. Good. I turn to Dawn. "I need a smoke. Comin' with, or
stayin' with the others?" Fucking bitch is sleeping on Angel's
shoulder. Right, like that just happened by accident.
"I need to talk to all of you, in the lobby," Angel says.
"It's over?" Cordelia asks.
"No, just intermission," Gunn says as we make our way down to the
lobby. "You know what, this isn't as bad as I thought it would be,"
he adds. And I was starting to think he was pretty cool, boy was *I*
wrong on that. "Were they this good when you last saw them?"
"It was exactly the same," Angel says.
"Well that's good that they're able to keep to the way it's always
been done," Fred says. "I think it's a beautiful—"
"No. I mean, nothings changed," Angel says. "These are the same
dancers I saw before."
"That's impossible," Cordelia says. "You saw them in 1890!"
"I know but…" he looks at me. Don't look at me, I'm fucking *mad* at
you right now! "Spike, you remember, don't you?"
Loaded question, Angel, but I won't embarrass you in front of your
friends. "He's right," I say. "They're the same people, but they're
not vampires, and I don't sense that they're *any* kind of demons."
"But it's weird enough that we should check it out, don't you think?"
Cordelia suggests. Like I wasn't going to say the same damn thing. I
guess I'm not going for that smoke, after all.
"I'll go," Angel says. "The rest of you should stay here—"
"I'm going with you," I say. I may be mad at him, but I'm not going
to let him wander off unprotected.
"No, Spike, you stay here," Angel says. "Help Gunn protect the girls
if things get out of hand."
"I'll go with you," Cordelia says to Angel. "You know, in case I get
a vision—"
"Like hell you will!" I growl.
"Spike—"
"Angel, *I* can cover your back, she'll just complicate things!" I
tell him.
"I will not waste time arguing with you!" Angel yells. "You will stay
with Gunn, Fred, and Dawn. That is an *order*."
*****
He turns on his heel and walks away; Dawn runs after him. Shit, what
did I do? I just don't have time now for his ego, or whatever it is
that's making him act like this. "Let's go," I tell Cordelia as I
head out the front door. I'll have to fix whatever damage I've caused
to my relationship with Spike later, when this situation has been
dealt with.
"So what's up with blondie?" Cordelia asks as we circle around the
theater to the back.
"He hates the ballet," I say. I know that's a poor excuse for the way
he's been acting, but the truth is I *don't* know what's wrong.
"I gathered that much," she replies. "But I guess what I'm really
wondering is what's up with you two?"
"What do you mean?" I ask. I am *so* glad it's dark and we're not
having this conversation face to face. But even so, I have no plans
to reveal the extent of my relationship with Spike to her now. It's
just not the right time yet.
"I mean… you two seem… close now. And that's a little weird,
considering how he tortured you last time he was in L.A." She trips,
and I grab her arm before she can fall. "Thanks."
"I know it probably does seem weird that I can trust him, Cordelia,"
I tell her. "But he has changed a lot, since that chip was put in his
head. He's done absolutely everything he could to help Buffy, and she
trusted him Spike and I buried the hatchet, because we both have a
mutual interest in taking care of Dawn," I tell her. "And he really
has changed a lot, Cordelia, from the vampire who has more than once
tried to destroy me. He truly cares about Dawn, and that's brought
out a better side of him."
"Well, so far he's proven you right and Wesley wrong," she says. "I
just hope… are all ballets guarded so fiercely?" I look to the door,
and she's right, that's more the type of guy you'd see at the door of
a dance club rather than a ballet.
"It isn't typical," I agree.
"So I'll distract him and you can slip past?" she suggests.
"How about you distract and I'll knock him out?" I counter. She
insisted on coming with me, I'm not letting her out of my sight to
get raped or worse.
"Whatever," she says, heading toward the door. "Hi… I was hoping I
could get in backstage…"
*****
I can't believe he did that. He pulled rank on me. I can't remember
the last time he did that. He *told* me he wouldn't! But that was
obviously a lie. It's convenient to be the Sire when it makes life
easier for you, I guess. But he *humiliated* me in front of everyone.
He didn't even have the decency…
"It's been too long," Dawn whispers. And she's right. As much as I
hate him right now, I'm not about to let him get dusted. Orders or no
orders.
I lean over her to Gunn. "Hey. I don't care what Angel said,
something's wrong. You with me?"
He nods, and we head down to the lobby. I look at Dawn. "You should—"
"…stay with you where I'll be absolutely one hundred percent safe,"
she says.
I hate it when she's right. "Yeah, fine but—"
"…stay behind you and if anything happens to you, run for my life to
the nearest group of humans," she says. "I *know* the drill, Spike.
It hasn't been that long since I've been out on a patrol."
"Okay then," I shrug. I look at Gunn and Fred. "Let's find a way
backstage."
*****
I open the door of the dressing room. Again. This is a terrible idea.
But Cordy's right, there's no other way to find out why this place is
stuck in a specific time period. The ghosts will answer that for us,
and then we'll get out again. Nothing else will happen. I can keep
things from getting... out of control. I have to. I won't cheat on
Spike, not even if it's *not* really me doing it.
"You're acting like I'm forcing you to do something terrible,"
Cordelia says from behind me. "Was it? Terrible?" she asks.
I sigh, and turn to face her. "No, of course not, but you're… you're
one of my best friends and I don't think of you that way."
"Right," she says, nodding, and she almost seems…hurt? That's crazy,
she doesn't think of *me* that way, either. "I know, you told me
there was someone else. And we just... it wouldn't work," she
says. "Maybe in a different world, right?" Something in her eyes
changes and I feel it happening too, shit.
"In a different world, we could be together without having to hide,
Stephan," she says.
"We can create that world, my love," I say, pulling her to me and
kissing her desperately. "You and me together for the rest of our
lives, far away from here. You just have to say yes."
"No more words," she says, unbuttoning my shirt and pulling my head
down for another kiss. "Just make love to me now, make me forget him
for a little while."
I pick her up and carry her to the couch, laying her down on it. I
join her, kissing her passionately, my hands sliding around to unzip
her dress. "I love you," I whisper as she unfastens my pants, sliding
them down. I kick them off my legs and then pull the dress off her
body. She is beautiful; I do not deserve someone like her.
"Please, I need you," she says, reaching for me.
"I'm here, my love," I reply, lying back down and entering her
completely. She gasps and trembles as she pulls me closer. I smile
and kiss her deeply as I begin to move inside her. She's mine, in at
least this way. She may not ever leave him, but at least we'll always
have this love.
*****
"Do you hear that?" Fred asks.
I hear it. It's Angel. And… no. God, no.
"Someone sounds like they're in pain," Gunn says.
Moaning. Coming from down the hall. This is not happening. I fell
asleep during the bloody ballet, and I'm having a dream. A nightmare.
We walk toward it, and the sounds become more distinct.
"Not pain," Fred says, and blushes. "Um… look out!" She yells,
pointing behind Gunn. He turns just in time to get stabbed.
I grab Dawn and shove her behind me as I run to help him. I grab the
guy in the theater mask, and snap its neck. No pain. I lucked out
then. "You okay?" I ask Gunn.
He's holding his side where he got stabbed, and looks kinda pale, but
he looks up and nods. "I'll live."
"Good," I say. "We need to get the hell out of here. Whatever he was,
I bet more are coming, and they won't like us being here either."
"But we need to find Cordy and Angel," Fred says.
"OH YEEEEEEEEEESSSS!"
"*That* was Cordelia," I say.
"No way," Dawn replies. "That's just not—"
"DUCK!" I yell. She does and I punch the guy that tried to sneak up
behind her. Another one in a mask. This one is sad, the other's
happy. Oh. Cute.
"Thanks," Dawn says, getting up again. "So how do we get out of
here?"
*****
"That's what we were trying to figure out," I say. Cordelia and I
were released by the spirits… after we let them have sex again. We
weren't expecting to see the others in the hall. Spike won't look at
me. He knows. Somehow—of course. He can smell me on her, and vice
versa.
"We know what's going on, at least," I add. "The prima ballerina is
definitely the same one from 1890. The owner of the ballet company
was obsessed with her, wanted to keep her here forever. He obviously
has some very strong magic spell going. If we can find the power
source, the spell will be broken and we can get out of here."
"Sounds easy, except he has these weird dudes that keep trying to
kill us," Gunn says, indicating a wound to his side.
"We can hold them off while Angel finds the one in control," Spike
says. He's still determined not to even glance in my direction, and I
wish I could—No. We have to end this situation first.
"All right," I say. "If you guys see any indication the magic is
weakening, get out. I'll meet you all at the Hyperion. Okay?" They
all nod. "Right. Good luck, be careful." I turn and head down the
hallway toward what I *think* is the stage.
*****
Thirty minutes later
He fucked her. Son of a bitch, he claims to love me, and then he
fucks *her.* Cordelia. Fucking. Chase.
"SPIKE!"
I grab the minion that dared to touch Dawn, and pull his head off. A
bloody end, I know, but I'm in a rather violent mood right now. "Stay
back, I told you!" I growl at Dawn.
"I was," she mutters, as she moves behind me again. "It's just that
there are so many of them!"
"I know, Dawn," I say. "Just try to keep clear, okay?" I snap another
minion's neck, as he chases Fred past me.
"THE DOOR!" Cordelia yells. And she's right, it is there, but it's
shimmering a little. It won't last long.
"All right, everyone out," I say, already pushing Dawn toward it.
"But Angel—"
"Look," I turn on Cordelia. "Stay and die if you want, but the rest
of us are leaving. I don't give a fuck, either way."
She looks shocked and I don't give a fuck about *that*,
either. "Fine. Asshole," she says as she walks past me, out the door.
Then Fred, Gunn, and I follow him.
"Go to the car," I say, backing away from the door, expecting those
things to follow. They don't, and I turn and run after the others to
the car. I get in the driver's seat and start the engine with my
spare key.
"We're not leaving him!" Cordelia yells.
"Bloody hell, stop second-guessing me!" I yell. "In fact, shut the
fuck up, because you don't get a vote! We are going *back* to the
hotel and no amount of whining on your part will change that. All it
will do is make me punch you in that pretty little mouth of yours,
chip or NO CHIP!"
She opens her mouth and please do it, Bitch, I'm just waiting for the
chance. "Cordy!" Dawn yells, grabbing her shoulder. "Spike's right,
leaving is the right thing to do. Besides, It's what Angel *told* us
to do."
Silence. Blessed silence. I pull out of the parking spot and start
toward the hotel.
*****
Home sweet home. I just hope he's still here. And I hope he'll give
me a chance to explain. It wasn't me, Spike. I would *never* betray
you like that, not again. Please don't hate me.
"Bad guy killed?" Dawn asks as I walk in. She's on the couch; I don't
see anyone else around.
"No, but his power source is destroyed, and the ballerina is now
resting in peace," I shrug.
She nods. "Fred and Cordy went home, Cordy wants you to call her so
she knows you're okay. Gunn's in the kitchen making something to eat.
Spike asked him to stay because he..."
"He left, didn't he?" I ask.
She looks up at me, and she's clearly got something on her mind. She
shrugs. "I'm not sure." She's lying. Buffy was terrible at it, too.
"Dawn, please," I say, sitting down next to her. "I *need* to talk to
him. He thinks..."
"He thinks you had sex with Cordelia," she says. "We heard ...
noises, in the hallway backstage. I know what you're gonna say; it's
none of my business, and in a way, you're right. But he... he's like
a big brother to me, Angel. And you are too, now, but he was there
for me first. So I'm not going to break my promise not to tell you
where he went. I'm sorry; he doesn't want to see you right now and I
really can't blame him."
"Dawn, I'm begging you," I plead. "I know he's hurting, but he
doesn't know the whole story. I don't deserve the chance to explain,
believe me I understand that. But *he* deserves the explanation."
She studies my face for a moment. "Tell me, Angel. Convince me he
needs to hear your reasons after *you* hurt him more tonight than
Buffy did when she died," she says.
God I hate myself. "Cordelia and I went into the prima ballerina's
room. Her spirit, and the spirit of her lover, were in there, and
took over our bodies. What happened... it wasn't real, it wasn't what
either of us wanted, we weren't in control.
"I need to explain that to him, Dawn. I love him, and I don't want to
lose him. I never, *ever* intended to hurt him again, and it kills me
that I did. So please, *please* tell me where he is."
She sighs. "I don't know *exactly* where he is. He told me he'd stay
here until he saw you entering the hotel. And then he said he was
going for a walk, and he's going to use the sewers because you would
never think he would travel by the sewers after sundown."
I can track him in the sewers though. "Thank you, Dawn. And I promise
he'll never know you told me. I'll tell him I tracked his scent down
to the sewers."
She shrugs. "He wouldn't be mad at me, anyway. I was just hoping
you'd give me a good reason to tell you where he went, because I'm
more worried about him than I've *ever* been."
"I'll find him, Dawn, I promise," I say, standing up and going to the
basement. I open the trap door and go down the ladder to the sewers.
He definitely went this way. I catch his scent easily and jog down
the tunnel following it. He can't have gotten too far. I just hope
he'll listen to what I have to say.
I slow down when I see him. "Spike."
He stiffens but doesn't turn around. In fact, he walks a little
faster. "Go away, Angelus," he says.
"Spike, please," I say as I try to catch up with him.
"I said stay the fuck *away*!" he yells, finally turning to look at
me. And when I look in his eyes, the hurt, the betrayal, the anger,
the sadness hit me harder than if he'd punched me. "I can't hear your
voice right now, I'm too fucking angry," he says. "Later. Maybe. I
just need some time right now," he says.
"Fine," I say, nodding. "I just hope you can give me a chance, later,
before you decide what you're going to do. Just one minute, Spike.
That's all I ask. I just want to explain what happened--"
"You fucked Cordelia!" he yells. " WHY would I give a SHIT why you
did it, when it doesn't change the fact that it happened!"
"Just... just think about it," I say with a sigh. "I can't make you
listen, I don't even deserve that opportunity. But I'm asking anyway,
because... well because I'm selfish," I shrug. I turn away, walking
back to the hotel. I have to respect his wishes. If he wants to be
left alone, then I'll go. It's the least I can do for him right now.
*****
Twenty four hours later
I've been walking these sewers nonstop, trying to figure out what
went wrong. Why would he go for Cordelia, when I've been *right*
*there*, ready to give him anything he asked for. WHY would he fuck
her? Did he fall for her, like he did for Buffy? Is that it?
I can't blame him, I guess, if he did. She *is* better for him than I
am. She's his seer, for fuck's sake. Dru all over again, minus the
insanity. Maybe that kind of thing creates a bond. I don't know. I
just don't fucking know. I hoped I could figure it out, but I haven't
had any big revelations.
What I keep thinking is maybe there is a really good reason for why
he fucked her. Maybe it was something mystical, something that he
couldn't control. God, I would give *anything* if it was something
like that. Something that I would know would *never* happen again.
Then *maybe*, just maybe it wouldn't be over. Maybe.
And if there isn't one of those reasons, then it's over. I just can't
do it anymore. I can't go back to him. He's proven that all he can do
is break my fucking heart. And I don't know how many more times I can
let him *do* that.
Please let there be a good reason. I know I don't deserve him, but I
need him. He ... he's *everything*. Shit, I don't even know who I'm
talking to. The Powers? Why would they care about me? I'm nothing to
them. There are only two people in this world who care about me. No,
just one now. Dawn. Other than her, there's nobody who gives a shit.
I'm at the ladder back to the basement of the Hyperion. Didn't even
mean to walk here. But I guess it's time to face the music. I'll hear
what he has to say and I'll make my decision.
*****
I hear someone down in the basement, and jump up. "I'm going
downstairs to work out for a while," I say, as I head out of the
office. I open the door, and see him standing there at the foot of
the stairs. He won't look me in the eyes.
He turns away and I shut the door behind me as I go down the
stairs. "I'm... I'm glad you came back," I tell him. "Dawn will be
too."
He turns back to look at me. Devastated basically sums up how he
looks. "I'll hear what you have to say," he says.
"Thank you," I say. "I don't deserve that, but you deserve to hear
what happened. God, Will, I'm so sorry, please don't think I meant
for that to--" Stop. Start from the beginning, don't babble. "And
don't forget, the basement's soundproof. So if you want to yell, go
ahead" I say.
No reaction. He just stares at me, like he's too tired to bother with
anything else.
"Okay... first of all, Will, I do *not* love Cordelia, and I do *not*
want her," I say. "She's a friend and nothing else. What happened in
that room... it wasn't me. It wasn't her, either. There were spirits
in that room, and they took over our bodies. Neither of us could
control what happened."
Still no reaction. Maybe he doesn't believe me, maybe he does, but it
doesn't matter. Maybe the fact of my betrayal was enough, no matter
what the reasons for it were. "So it was *all* out of your control,"
he says. "There wasn't *one* moment you could've stopped it from
happening?" he asks.
I could lie. He wants to forgive me, I can see that in his eyes, and
if I lied, he would forgive me. And I *want* to, and maybe *he* even
wants me to. But I can't. I won't. I spent so much of my life lying,
especially to him. Even if it would make everything easier, but I
wouldn't deserve him then. "I did stop it," I admit.
I didn't think he could look more devastated, but I was wrong. "And?"
he asks, his voice nearly a whisper from the emotions he's holding
in.
"I... Cordelia convinced me--"
"Fuck, I knew it," he says, shaking his head. "I knew that if you
*really* didn't want to fuck her, you wouldn't have. But what, she
seduced you into it? Hey, Angel, you know this would be a great
excuse for us to have a quick shag. The ghosts want to, and we're
here, so let's go for it! And hell, we'll have a built in excuse for
later! It wasn't me, it was the ghosts!"
"That's not how it happened," I say. "We didn't know what was going
on, we wanted to get back to you and the others, and we thought that
it was the only way to get an answer."
"It wasn't the only way," he says, shaking his head. "There are
*always* other ways to get an answer, you *know* that! You just
couldn't resist the opportunity to fuck her, and I can't really blame
you," he shrugs.
"Why not?!" I reply. "*I* blame myself, Will. God, I *hate* myself
for what I've done. But I swear to you, it was just a stupid spur of
the moment decision, and there weren't any hidden motives! Neither of
us believed it would go as far as it did, but it did, and now we're
left with the consequences. And I realize you hate me, and you're
angry and hurt but please *please*, look past your anger and realize
that I'm not lying to you about this," I beg him. "You *know* I love
you, and you know I wouldn't cheat on you so casually. You know *me*,
Will."
"I *do* know you," he agrees. "And I know that this is the same damn
thing you've done all our lives, Angelus. Whether it was Darla or
Buffy, Cordelia or Drusilla, there have *always* been others. I've
never been the only one in your bed. You just can't resist a girl
who's in love with you."
"No," I say, shaking my head, and I feel so helpless. There's nothing
I can say or do... NO. It's not hopeleses, I can make him understand
and believe me. "This isn't... Cordelia isn't like the others," I
say. "I don't love her the way I love you."
"You didn't love Dru either," he replies. "Didn't keep you from
fucking her," he adds bitterly.
"What, do you want me to admit that I've been an asshole to you?" I
ask. "I admit it, readily. But I spent so much time after I turned
you trying to deny my feelings for you, Will. I turned to Darla and
Drusilla, and yes, I did it to hurt you. I'm not proud of that, but
it's the truth. But I never loved either of them like I loved you.
"And as for Buffy," I add... Shit, how to deal with all *this* in one
conversation. "I loved her. And I still loved you, but I was still
denying it, for different reasons. But I left Buffy, because I
realized that she and I were *not* right for each other.
"But Cordelia, and what happened tonight, was not about love, it was
not about my running away from you, it was *only* about a stupid
decision that I would take back in a heartbeat if I could. Please
don't let that stupidity have ruined us. Can't you just *try* to
forgive me?"
*****
"Why should I?" I ask. "Bloody hell, I have already forgiven you so
many times that I'm not even sure what the damn word *means*
anymore!" I yell. "So tell me, *why* should I do it again?!"
He looks so sad, and damn it I will not feel *sorry* for him! He
fucking ripped my heart out and stomped on it. "Since I brought you
here, until tonight have I *ever* intentionally hurt you?" he asks.
"No, but--"
"Tonight wasn't intentional either," he replies. "And if you could
find it in yourself to just *try* to forgive me, give me another
chance, I could prove it to you. Next time I come in contact with
something that might cause something terrible to happen, I will
listen to my instincts and *not* tempt ghosts, spells, or mystical
forces. Because those are the *only* things that would ever make me
cheat on you.
"Shit, Will, we were - are - so close, to having something wonderful.
Something perfect. I just know it *can* be. I have *no* doubt in my
mind about that."
I wish I believed you, Angel. Fuck, I want to. But... "I *do* have
doubts," I tell him. "Because if you're wrong about us--"
*****
"I'm not wrong," I tell him. "I've never been more sure of anything
before in my life. What you make me feel... it's just beyond words,
Will. And I'm begging you not to give up on us. If you can just give
me one last chance, I can prove to you how much we *do* belong
together while I spend eternity making up for all the unforgivable
things I've ever done to you."
No response, it's like he's given up. Fuck. I've lost him. I can feel
that and it's tearing me apart.
"Everything you're saying, it all sounds so wonderful, like the best
possible dream," he says. "I had that dream once, too," he says. "But
that's all it was, I'm afraid," he adds. "It's just *too* fucking
hard because it's not *supposed* to work. The good things are worth
fighting for, Angel, but it shouldn't take *this* much of a fight. If
we were really meant to be together, there should have been a turning
point by now, a point when things would start getting better."
"Maybe this is that point," I say. "And I know it feels like a dream
sometimes, but it's also real.. It's so real, more real than
everything I've ever felt. Please don't walk away from it. From us.
I'm not asking you to just forgive me and pretend like I never had
sex with Cordelia. Move back into your room, we'll take it slow, as
slow as you need to be able to trust me again. And I'll do everything
necessary to make you believe in us again. All I need is--"
"*Another* chance," he says. "Right, why not? All the others worked
out so fucking WELL!"
"I... I know I don't deserve it," I shrug.
"It's more than that, damn it!" he replies. "Don't you get it? It
*never* works! I have tried, and I have forgiven you, and given you
*so* many chances, but it *always* goes to hell in the end! And you
say one *last* chance, but you don't really mean it! When that one
doesn't work it'll be, what about another, and another and another,
and I just *can't* fucking *do* it!"
No, no, please, no. Don't do this! This isn't happening, shit, why
can't I fix this??
"I do *not* have it in me to give you another chance right now," he
says.
I open my mouth to say... something. There has to be *something*--
"There's nothing more to say," he interrupts me. "You can't change my
mind. I'm leaving."
He turns, walking away and up the stairs. And I can't think of a
single thing to say or do to fix this. I'm losing him again, and yet
again it's all my fucking fault.
*****
I somehow manage to get to my room without falling apart. My room;
that's a joke. Everything important is in his room. I could just buy
new stuff... but shit, no. If I leave anything, he'll think it means
I'm coming back. And I'm not.
I'm not.
I can't.
Fuck, I have to get outta here before I talk myself out of it. I walk
over to our - ANGEL'S - room, and I'm hit by the scent of us. It was
just last night, we were in that bed... NO. Concentrate on getting
your shit together and leaving. I get my clothes out of the dresser
and closet, throw them in the bag that I brought them in. It was only
a month ago; it feels like a lifetime.
Right, well that's everything. I gotta talk to Dawn. Bloody hell, I
hate doing this to her, making her choose. She'd be better off here;
Angel and the others can do more for her than I can. But I promised
her that I wouldn't leave her, so I gotta tell her I'm leaving.
I find her in her room, writing in her diary. "SPIKE!" she yells,
running over to hug me. And then I realize I scared her, not comin'
home til now.
"Sorry if I worried ya, Dawn," I tell her. "I just... had a lot on my
mind."
"Hey, it's cool," she says. "I'm just glad you're okay. You're ..."
She notices my bag and says, "Not really okay, are you?"
"I'm leaving, Dawn," I say, not sure how to answer her question
without blubbering like a baby. "You can come with me if you want."
"Um..." She's surprised, and I hate to just spring it on her like
that, but the longer I stay here, the harder it gets to leave. That
stupid fucking voice in my head, whispering that I'm wrong. I'm
making the wrong choice, I'm walking away when I shouldn't. I'm
giving up when I should fight. But I can't listen. I have to do this.
If I stay and he hurts me again... I'll have to kill or destroy
myself to stop the pain. And since I don't want to break my promise
to Dawn and leave her alone, that's not an option.
"I'm going with you, Spike," she says. "But I have to pack, and it
won't be as fast as it was when I packed to leave L.A." Yeah, I
remember. Cordelia' s enjoyed having Dawn around. A great excuse to
go shopping with Angel's credit card.
"That's fine, take as much time as you need," I tell her. "I'll wait.
I think I'll go up to the roof, though. I need some fresh air." She
nods and I leave my bag at the door, and head up the stairs to the
roof.
Much better. Hopefully he won't find me up here. There's nothing else
to say.
Of course I never get what I hope for.
*****
There he is. He's standing looking out at the city, his back to
me. "I was thinking about everything you said," I tell him. "And I
just keep thinking, Will, about last night. We were so close, I know
you felt that too--"
"Just part of the dream," he says. "We can create perfect moments,
Angel, but I don't think we can manage in the real world."
"You don't think," I say. "You aren't *sure*, though. Are you?"
No answer.
"You also said you couldn't give me another chance 'right now'," I
add. Does that mean...
He shrugs. "I don't *know*, damn it! I don't know if I'll ever change
my mind, or want you back, I just don't KNOW!"
"Okay," I say. "Okay, I'm sorry. I don't mean to pressure you. I
just... are you sure you can't stay here? You can move into your old
room, I swear I'll give you as much time as you need. I won't expect
anything," I say. "Shit, I'm sorry I'm asking you this. I'm so
fucking selfish... I just can't imagine my life without you in it."
"I can't," he says, shaking his head. "If I stayed, I would just give
in to you eventually, Angel, and I can't let that happen. Because I
can't keep from thinking that you'll just betray me again, and at
this point if that happened, the only way I'd be able to stop the
pain would be to destroy myself. So I have to leave."
"Spike--oh sorry!" Dawn says from behind me.
"No, Dawn. It's fine," he says. "We're done. Packed?" He turns to
look at her, not looking at me. He looks relieved that she
interrupted.
"Yeah," she nods. She glances at me, and I can see she's sorry about
this, but she won't leave him to go off alone. I'm actually glad
about that. He needs her in his life.
"'Kay then, let's go," he says, walking past me and down the stairs.
She stays for a minute. "Angel, I'm sorry. I wish you'd been able to
work things out."
"I am too, Dawn," I nod. "But who knows? Maybe..." I shrug.
"Right," she says, and the smile she gives me is fake. She doesn't
believe that either. She hugs me. "I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too, but you can call me, Dawn. Any time," I tell
her. "I hope you *will.*"
"I promise," she says, pulling away.
"BIT!" he yells from downstairs.
"Right. Well. He wants to get out of here," she says as we walk down
to the lobby. "I'll call you when we get settled. Wherever."
We get to the lobby and I see him outside, waiting by a taxi. "Tell
Cordelia I said thank you for all the shopping trips, and ... and
tell Fred I'll miss her," Dawn says.
"You tell them," I say. "They're your friends, Dawn, they'll want to
hear from you."
"Right." She sighs. "He loves you Angel. I have no doubt about that."
"I screwed up, Dawn," I say. "Quite literally. Just... just take care
of him, okay?"
"Don't worry about that," she smiles. "We'll take care of each other,
like we always have." And then she turns and goes outside.
I watch as they finish loading the bags in the taxi, and wave at Dawn
before she gets inside. He doesn't even glance at me. And then
they're gone.
Oh god, what have I done?
*****
The End (For now)