Angel glanced suspiciously at the sign, suspended from a length of rope in front of him. Looking around, the apartment was deserted. No signs of life anywhere, including himself.

He pulled.

Immediately, the rope broke free of its tie and Angel looked up in time to see what had to be at least two garbage bags full of confetti and balloons suspended in the rafters. The bags tipped on their side, sending the contents showering down on him, and he merely stood in disbelief as his world was transformed into millions of tiny, fluttering papers. Occasionally, a balloon would drift past his nose, to land with a soft bounce at his feet.

When the last tiny piece of paper had landed unceremoniously in his hair, he was startled by the sharp blast of a party horn. Angel whirled around to see Buffy, giggling like mad, waving a colorful horn at him.

She looked delicious, and he wanted to eat her up.

"Happy Birthday!" she crowed, throwing her arms about his neck.

"My birthday...you remembered," he said quietly, overwhelmed with her nearness. "And you came."

"I would never forget that," she whispered back. "And of course I would come. I brought you a present."

"A present?" He grinned, happy in spite of himself.

"She brought me," a smooth, accented voice spoke from the darkness of the shadows.

Angel's eyes glinted. "Will."

Spike stepped forward into the circle of light that was cast by the single lamp on the end table. "Angelus. Happy Birthday."

Angel caught Buffy's eye. She was beaming at him, and his heart swelled. He could not have asked for anything else on his birthday, other than to be with the two people he adored most in the world. And Buffy had done it for him.

He pulled her into a fierce hug while watching Spike over her shoulder. Spike shrugged nonchalantly at him. "She made me come."

Buffy squeaked, and turned. "I did not, liar. I told you I was coming and you asked me if you could tag along!" She turned back to Angel in protest. "He asked me!"

Angel smiled down at her. "I believe you." He looked up and winked at Spike, who shrugged again and turned away to wander into the bedroom.

"Believe what you want," they heard him mumble to himself.

Buffy ignored him. "Come in here," she coaxed, pulling him by the hand. "We have wine...oh, damn it, Spike!"

Angel began to chuckle as he stopped in the doorway of the bedroom. Spike had already poured himself a glass of the said wine, and was now lounging comfortably on Angel's large bed. His booted feet were wrinkling the silk coverlet, and there seemed to be a profusion of flowers beneath him, their delicate petals crushed. Angel stepped closer to the bed, and saw that the flowers were wild orchids, their soft pink insides clashing beautifully with the rich red of the bed linens. "You did this for me?" he marveled, picking up a flower.

Buffy glared at Spike. "*We* did it for you," she said. "And now he's messing it all up."

"Shut up, Slayer," Spike yawned, lifting the glass to his lips and taking a deep swallow.

"No," Angel protested. "Not at all. It's not ruined at all." He turned, noting how carefully they had decorated his bedroom for him. More orchids lay scattered atop his dresser, where a small candle was glowing. Still more flowers were spread carefully about the floor, giving Angel the impression that he was in secluded greenhouse. On the nightstand by the bed sat a basket of strawberries, and chilling in an ice bucket was a can of...whipped cream?

Angel's eyes lit up when he saw it, and he looked at Spike. Spike glanced at the nightstand and remained silent, but Angel caught the answering glimmer in his blue eyes. "Strawberries?" Angel said to Buffy, who blushed.

"Spike said you used to love them. I didn't know that." She poured a glass of wine for him and dropped in a plump berry. "Here. Sit down. Drink this."

Angel obediently took the wine and sat down on the edge of the bed, careful not to crush any flowers. He took a small sip, and then licked his lips appreciatively. "I know what that is," he said, his eyes lighting on the bottle. "That's Opus One. It's so expensive, Buffy, you shouldn't have --"

"Hey!" Spike spoke up. "The Slayer doesn't know Opus from Manischevitz. I picked that out."

"So what," Buffy said grumpily, plopping down on the bed with her own glass. "It was my idea to get wine in the first place."

"Stop," Angel said gently, to both of them. "It's all perfect. I love it. I love...it," he said again lamely, wanting to really tell them he loved *them*, instead.

"We love it too," Buffy said softly. "Right, Spike?"

Spike grunted unintelligibly.

"Have a strawberry," Buffy said, offering Angel the basket.

He took one and bit down, savoring the sweet juice that ran into his mouth. Just because he could only survive on blood didn't mean he didn't appreciate good food. And good wine. And good sex...

Huh?

Angel shook his head. They weren't here for that, he chided. Even though it *was* his birthday. Even though that damned curse had been lifted by the Oracles last year, after Angel had saved his hundredth life in Los Angeles. Even though Buffy was staring, mesmerized, at his lips, and Spike was slowly rolling wine around on his tongue and doing the most erotic things with his mouth while Angel watched him. Even though --

Even though Buffy was kissing him suddenly, twining her slim fingers in his hair, taking his glass from him and handing it behind her, and Spike was obeying her command and taking it from her to set on the table.

Angel had to kiss her back, *needed* to kiss her back, because the smell of strawberries and wine and flowers were too potent to ignore. She was fresh and youthful in his arms, tasting of fruit and wine together, and as he lay back on the bed with her, her hair spilled like silken sunshine over them both.

He wanted to kiss her forever. He was so in love with her he thought he would break from it, and her warm body was pressing seductively into his with enough pressure to bring him to full erection almost instantly. Angel growled his pleasure against her mouth, and she murmured in return, sliding her legs down to straddle him.

Angel felt her nibble a slow path over his cheek, down his jawline and nuzzle into the cool hollow behind his ear, and he felt goosebumps rise on his arms in response. He turned his head to give her better access, and his gaze locked with Spike's, who was watching both of them intently.

Though Spike had his legs still casually crossed at the ankle, Angel did not miss the prominent bulge at the fly of Spike's jeans. While Buffy continued to torture him with tiny bites at his jugular, Angel reached out a hand to his favorite childe. He crooked his finger, and Spike smiled roguishly.

Spike gestured toward Buffy with his head, and Angel understood. He beckoned Spike again, nodding, and this time Spike pushed off from the headboard and crawled toward the two of them. Buffy lifted her head slightly to peer over her shoulder when she felt strong hands encircle her waist from behind, and her clear hazel eyes met Spike's stormy blue.

There was an understanding that passed between them. It was for Angel, and their differences would be put aside in place of the love that they both shared for him. Buffy reached behind her for one of Spike's hands and pulled him forward, pushing him down onto the bed next to Angel. She lay atop both men, one dark and one blond, and shared her warmth with the two of them.

The two vampires lay side by side, the entire length of their bodies touching, and Buffy felt both of their hard shafts against each of her legs. She shifted downward slightly, her thighs pressing into each man's crotch, and felt primitive satisfaction when both of them growled in response. As she watched, both pairs of eyes that looked up at her began to glow yellow, and ridges formed on their foreheads.

It was, quite possibly, the most erotic thing she'd ever seen.

She closed her eyes and pushed against them again, reveling in the feel of each solid leg against her cleft, and when she opened her eyes again, Angel had taken Spike's head in his hands and was kissing him. Buffy watched as they kissed, as each of them snarled low in their throats, and she felt one of Spike's hands creep up to grip her own buttocks firmly.

Buffy was mildly surprised at how strong his grip was, yet gentle too, and she felt Spike knead her skin with his fingers as Angel nipped at his mouth. A drop of blood appeared at the corner of Spike's lip and Angel licked it away, his fangs sharp and glistening in the candlelight.

Boldly, Buffy lowered her head to their mouths, wanting to share and be shared, and both men turned to kiss her at the same time. Three tongues bathed and lapped at each other, and more blood was spilled and then quickly licked clean.

"Clothes," Spike finally rasped, through his fangs. "Too many clothes."

"You always were impatient, William," Angel sighed, but sat up obediently and divested himself of his shirt. Buffy and Angel watched as Spike lifted his own t-shirt over his head, and then Buffy found two pairs of yellow eyes upon her.

She was suddenly shy, and looked down at a broken flower on the blanket. She began to draw designs on the comforter with her finger, but was interrupted by two very hard male bodies pushing her back down onto the bed. Spike went immediately to the fastening of her pants, while Angel smiled encouragingly at her and swiftly undid the small buttons on her shirt. "Are you embarrassed?" he asked, and she was touched by his thoughtfulness.

"No," she said truthfully, though she cast a doubtful glance Spike's way. "Just...shy, I guess."

Spike snorted, and Buffy began to take umbrage to his tone, but all too swiftly he had taken off her pants and her underwear with them and had buried his nose in her sex before either Buffy or Angel had time to react.

"Spike," Buffy started to say, "You're such a bast----oooooohhh, that's niiiiice..."

"Like I said," Angel whispered in her ear, "he always was impatient."

Buffy could only gasp in response as Spike's talented tongue began to bathe her. Using long, laving strokes, he brought his tongue to her inner lips, going up to the apex of her curls and then down again, using enough pressure to tease but not enough to bring Buffy where she wanted to go. Vaguely she felt Angel slip off his jeans next to her, and then felt the strange paradox of the warmth his coolness brought. He was laying next to her as Spike loved her with his mouth, content to let his childe work his magic on her, and bent a dark head to suckle lazily at one pert breast.

The different sensations, from different directions, began to build in Buffy. She wished Spike would press harder right....*there*! But then he went away again, sliding his cool tongue into her wetness, and it was good but not just right, and then Angel was switching tactics and using his tongue to lick both breasts instead of bite them, and she couldn't keep her hips still on the bed as both vampires began to go to work on her. She wanted to hold Spike's head still, in fact she reached for him, but he twisted away easily with a chuckle and continued his maddening teasing of her.

"Angel," she whimpered, "make him stop, make him stop doing that..."

"Stop doing that, William," Angel murmured, with no intention of stopping himself, and Buffy felt Spike nod.

"Right-o," he laughed against her sex, "I'll stop."

And of course he didn't, neither of them did, and they kept on with their tortuous teasing until Buffy felt tears rise in her throat and let out a strangled sob.

Immediately both vampires lifted their heads to her and saw her torment, and with a nod from Angel, Spike began to suck Buffy in earnest. Concentrating on the slick little bud that barely protruded from her soft lips, Spike slid his hands under her buttocks and lifted Buffy into his mouth, putting as much pressure on her apex as he could. Ignoring the sore hardness of his cock, he sucked at her, all the while keeping his eyes locked with Angel's.

Angel felt his nostrils flare with his own desire, and glanced down at Buffy. Her eyes were tightly shut, her tongue bathing her bottom lip repeatedly. The light from the lone candle flickered across the three of them, sending dancing shadows over the bed, and Buffy's hands opened and closed against the silk sheets as Spike pleasured her. Angel's cock throbbed with almost-pain as he watched the picture the two of them made, and he caught Spike's eye one more time.

Spike nodded at him, smelling her approaching orgasm, and Angel leaned down and very gently pricked her neck with his fangs. Immediately, Buffy let out a sob of relief as she shuddered uncontrollably beneath Spike's mouth, the tiny twin drops of blood making a trail down the side of her neck. Spike held on to her as she came into his mouth, swallowing her juices greedily, and not letting her go until she twisted away from him in protest.

She was weak, for a time, and lay on her back, content to watch Angel and Spike as they found each other's mouths again.

Angel could smell and taste Buffy on Spike, and it spurred him on. The smell of sex rose heady and hot in the room, mingling with the hothouse scent of the orchids, which were being crushed beneath the three of them as they rolled on the bed.

Spike used force to tug Angel to his knees and then lay willingly under him, reaching for a ripe strawberry as Angel watched curiously. Buffy, too, rolled to her side and propped her cheek on her hand, wondering what Spike was going to do with the fruit, and then understanding dawned in both Buffy and Angel as Spike used the whipped cream to thoroughly coat the strawberry. The blond put the entire concoction in his mouth and chewed briefly, then swallowed, and opened his mouth again.

Angel did not hesitate but instead gripped Spike's head with his hands and plunged his aching cock into his mouth. The added coolness from the chilled whipped cream made Angel shudder and roll his eyes back in his head. Spike opened his throat easily, taking all of Angel's thick length for three strokes, before pushing him away.

"Let the git have a taste," he grinned, motioning to Buffy who lay watching.

"Yum," Buffy agreed eagerly, sitting up. Angel smiled at her and obediently slid his cock into her warm mouth, his stomach clenching at the feel of it.

Buffy thought he tasted delicious. Angel tasted of the fruit and cream that had been in Spike's mouth, and Buffy wanted to lick him forever. She sucked at him, putting her hands on his bottom, gripping him with her nails while he plunged into her, and soon she knew he wasn't conscious of anything but what he was feeling.

She loved him when he did that.

Buffy was so intent on watching him, ignoring the warmth that was gathering again in her own belly, that she gave a squeak of surprise to feel Spike nestle himself behind her and reach a finger around to delve into her wetness. Buffy arched back against him, feeling his cock press against her bottom, and when she saw Angel squeeze his eyes closed she knew he was close to coming.

Spike must have known it too, because he immediately lifted Buffy under her arms and deposited her on her back on the bed. Angel's eyes flew open in protest, but Spike pushed him down on top of her, and Angel immediately groaned as his hardness found her dripping opening. He slid inside like a hot knife through butter, the tightness of her overwhelming him.

Vaguely, Angel was aware of Spike covering him, so that Angel felt rather like a reverse Oreo cookie between the two blonds. He felt Spike place his cock in between the crack of Angel's buttocks, choosing to use that for friction rather than slide inside Angel, and then he realized that this way, Spike could feel Buffy as well.

And then Angel couldn't think about it anymore, couldn't think about anything but how marvelous it felt to be inside Buffy, and how she was clenching him with her inner muscles and whimpering in his ear. He could hear Spike growling on top of him, could feel his weight increase as Spike began to pant and snarl, and then as soon as Spike's teeth descended into Angel's shoulder, Angel cried out and spilled cool, lifeless seed into Buffy.

Almost immediately following Angel's climax, he felt a wetness in between his body and Buffy's, and realized Spike had come as well. Using the lubrication, Angel put a hand into the tight space between himself and Buffy, and began to rub her with the liquidy semen. Angel felt the muscles in her legs tighten as she stiffened, arching up against his hand, and then she was coming, sobbing his name while she did.

They lay in a sated pile for long minutes.

Finally Spike moved off the top, collapsing near Angel, who rolled slightly to the side of Buffy.

Buffy slept, and the vampires purred to the light of the flickering candle.

"This stuff stinks."

"No, it doesn't," Buffy said. "It smells good. Fruity."

"Like you," Spike retorted, sinking into the hot bathwater. "Cripes, that feels good."

Angel examined the bottle. "It's mango," he confirmed.

"What the fuck are you doing with it, is the question," Spike sighed, closing his eyes.

Angel looked sheepish. "It's Cordelia's. I thought it smelled nice."

"Quiet," Buffy ordered both of them, leaning her head back against the cool tile of the enormous tub.

They were, for a time. Then Spike opened his eyes and flicked some bubbles at Angel. "Happy Birthday," he said seriously.

Buffy found Angel's hand underwater and squeezed it. "Did you like your present?"

Angel looked at both of them, the two pieces that made his heart whole, and nodded. "Just what I always wanted."

The End

*Tam...I couldn't fit the cat in. I tried. I'm sorry, baby.

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