Ronin: Within You Part 20

                  It was hours later, and the bleary eyed group had dragged themselves to Cordys
                  apartment. The interior of Angel Investigations, along with the owners living
                  quarters,
                  was essentially destroyed. As for the exterior, the partial lack of walls
                  would present a bit of a problem come sunrise for the resident vampires.

                  The negotiations for sleeping arrangements seemed to take precedence over any
                  sorting through of the past days events. It was not without difficulty that
                  Spike and Angel were convinced to take the Master bedroom. If Angel had to
                  think about it, it was likely Cordelias assertion that ::noone really wants
                  to watch you two do the whacky:: that was most convincing.

                  So now the two male vampires were surrounded by lace and finery, and Angel
                  was trying to figure out exactly how amusing Spike was going to look tucked
                  under a sheet laden with posies.

                  The blond vampire did not appear to notice the decidedly feminine tilt to the
                  room.
                  Instead, he began to strip, tearing off his jacket and tossing it where he
                  stood, needing nothing more at this moment than a warm bed and a pillow.

                  Angel was staring at him, and the smaller man recognized the look.

                  He groaned. ::Oh gods, you wanna talk, dont you?::

                  Angel grimaced. ::Is there a problem with that? Its been quite a day...or
                  two...or...a
                  hundred...::

                  ::Yea, Peaches, and we aint gonna get it all sorted out right now. So just
                  shuddup and come to bed, will ya?::

                  Angel didnt move. Spike sighed and stopped disrobing, walking closer to the
                  taller man. ::You wont let me get any sleep until we do this, will you?::

                  Angel just raised a brow.

                  ::Fine, lets get it over with. What do you want to yammer about?::

                  The dark vampire prayed for patience. And fluency. ::I- I just- I mean, Spike
                  will you
                  stand still for two seconds!?:: Apparantly, he had achieved neither.

                  ::Look, I said Id listen to ya, I didnt say Id enjoy it., :: the peroxide
                  blond retorted,
                  continuing to pick up and study various objets de beauty from Cordelias
                  dresser.
                  Amazing shit, really. The eyelash curler would make a helluva torutre device
                  if properly utilized....

                  ::Then LISTEN! Youre not even listening!::

                  Spike turned to face his obviously annoyed Sire, and matched the older mans
                  pose, arms folded across broad chest, eyebrows shot up to the hairline. Any
                  minute now, ridges were going to appear there.....

                  **((Christ he is so exasperating!))**

                  Mutual laughter.

                  ::What is it pet, eh?:: Spike took a few steps to where Angel stood. The mans
                  posture was stiff, but his look was softening a bit as Spike crossed the
                  remaining distance between them, a small smile playing on his thin lips.

                  ::Are you staying?:: Angel asked, the words tumbling from his mouth before he
                  could
                  hold them.

                  ::What? Where?:: the younger man appeared genuinely confused.

                  ::I mean....after all thats happened...I ...I dont want you to stay out of
                  some sense of duty or... obligation. I dont want you to be here just
                  because....Im your Sire.::

                  ::Where exactly did this come? I missed something, yea? Your neuroses are on
                  total overdrive, here, Angel.::

                  They were standing almost nose to nose at the point, but Angel couldnt lift
                  his eyes to meet the others. Spike was amazed, and more than a bit puzzled.
                  The man was genuinely tweaked here, and damned if he could figure out why...

                  Well, there was the whole losing conciousness and bleeding like a stuck pig
                  thing. And the remembering Hell thing. And the nearly dying. And his
                  apartment exploding. Oh, and the Watcher being in his *head*. ((Shudder)).

                  And Buffy. There was still Buffy.

                  There would always be Buffy.

                  ::She still loved you, you know.::: Spike said quietly.

                  Angel twitched slightly, but made no reply.

                  ::I never told you this. I didnt think youd wanna hear it. But...the
                  Initiative didnt kill that thing. The thing that killed her, I mean. They
                  didnt take it out. I did.::

                  Angel lifted startled eyes to meet the faraway gaze of his Childe. There was
                  no chance for him to formulate a response, as Spike was continuing. He rocked
                  back and forth on his heels as he spoke, and Angel recognized the familiar
                  sign that the younger man was nervous. He laid a hand on a black clad
                  shoulder to still the motion, and whispered. ::Tell me...Please::

                  ::She was happy with soldier-boy. She was..content. They woulda made it all
                  right.::
                  Spike caught the tiny twitch on the well defined cheek, but pressed on. ::But
                  she never got over you. When I attacked the demon...he asked me...he asked me
                  if I knew how she died. We were fighting ya know, and I wasnt paying much
                  attention to what all he said. I was too busy tryin to kill him. And, not to
                  get killed. But then he said......that she died calling for me.::

                  Angels eyes were shining, and he was battling hard to keep human countenance.
                  ::Buffy - she died asking for you?::

                  Spike grunted. ::No, ya poof.:: His voice softened. :: No. All he knew was
                  that I was a vamp. He thought I was you. It was you, Angel. She died...crying
                  for you. ::

                  It broke then, the fragile hold Angel had on his control, it shattered into
                  thousands of tiny pieces, and he could feel it happening, could feel it all
                  welling up inside him, and he couldnt stop it, he didnt want to stop it, he
                  wanted to scream, wanted to rage, wanted to...

                  He picked up the first thing his hands claimed, a small music box. The
                  ballerina inside twirled madly about as he grabbed it, and slung it into the
                  far wall. It exploded in a shower of twisted wood and resin and metal, the
                  music shrieking and fading into the loud *bang* as it collided with the
                  cement.

                  Then Angel sunk to his knees, and let his face shift to true form. Fangs
                  bared, yellow
                  eyes blazed. In full demonic countenance, he wept.

                  He wept because he remembered Hell, he wept because he had lost Buffy, and
                  Doyle, and himself, he wept because he had nearly lost Will. He wept because
                  despite all this, no, *because* of all this, he had come to believe something
                  new and wholly different.

                  He suddenly thought that maybe, just maybe, he deserved some small measure of
                  happiness. And it scared the hell out of him.

                  Spike hunkered down in front of him, his hand hanging impotently above the
                  crouched shoulders for a moment. He watched unmoving as Angel hid his face in
                  his folded arms. Then, he let his fingers drop, to brush along the thick
                  silky strands of hair along Angels neckline, and he caressed gently. He
                  rubbed the muscled shoulders as they shook, and he could feel the soft,
                  rumbling purr beginning in his own chest.

                  The large vampire grabbed him, held him close, and felt the comforting sound
                  ripple
                  through him. Under the heavy sobs was a low answering purr of his own.

                  Long minutes later, Angel looked up. His face had slid back into its handsome
                  human mask. Spike released his firm grip on his Sires neck, and met the wet
                  gaze.

                  ::Sorry.:: Angel mumbled.

                  Spike just grinned. ::S'ok mate. The whole weepy thing dont bug me near as
                  much as the lets-analyze-our-lives-now thing.::

                  Angel rose to his feet, and managed a grin. ::I still have no idea what the
                  hell you expect from me.::

                  ::Im a simple fellow, Angel. I got simple tastes. A nice spot of violence, a
                  bit o warm
                  blood, ya know, a mind boggling climax or three. A bottle of Jack when its
                  done. I dont do this whole *why am I here and where is this relationship
                  going* swill. Thats your gig. Ya can keep it.::

                  ::Youre really a pain in my ass.:: the taller vampire retorted, the spunk
                  returning more quickly than usual. He figured all this time with Spike would
                  rub off eventually....

                  Incorrigable grin coupled with a wink. ::Sorry, must not be doin it right
                  then. Out of
                  practice n all.:: Spike walked to the opposite wall, and began unbuttoning
                  his shirt.

                  :: You cant stay serious for even two seconds, can you?::

                  ::Why?! Were demons, pet. Weve four hundred some years among us. Youre still
                  in love with a Slayer and Im still in love with a lunatic. Both of whom
                  happen to be oh, *dead*. Much as youd like to believe otherwise, Peaches, it
                  aint never gonna be hearts, flowers n poetry between us. Difference is you
                  wanna do a dance about it every coupla days.:: Pause, then, :: And, I hate
                  poetry.::

                  Angel smiled, an odd unreadable little smirk. He leaned in toward Spike, and
                  placed a hand on the wall on either side of the mans shoulders, effectively
                  trapping him between them. Spike quirked a brow at him.

                  ::Is that so?:: the dark vampire whispered.

                  The blond was non-plussed, ::Yea. To whichever you was referring.::

                  Angel was still grinning. ::About the poetry.::

                  ::Most definately about the poetry. Romantic rot, that.::

                  The taller man bent closer. His breath was sweetened by the recent feed, and
                  not inches from Spikes ear, the small rush of air causing bumps to rise
                  unbidden along the flaxen hairline. Angels voice was hushed, low pitched, the
                  mere suggestion of speech. There was a subtle rythym to the words...

                  ::Under the harvest moon
                  When soft silver
                  Drips shimmering
                  Over garden nights::

                  He began, running the tip of his nose over the ridges of the ear he whispered
                  softly into. The smaller man shifted his weight onto one foot.

                  ::Now youre gonna recite me poetry? What do I look like, a --::

                  Silenced by the continuing hypnotic voice ...

                  ::Death, the gray mocker,
                  Comes and whispers to you
                  As a beautiful friend
                  Who remembers::

                  Light flick of the tongue over the pulseless vein in the neck. Soft puffs of
                  air over the wet skin, raising more flesh.

                  ::Not gonna work, Angelus.:: Slight quiver in the voice. Blue eyes falling
                  closed.

                  ::Under the summer roses
                  When the flagrant crimson
                  Lurks in the dusk
                  Of the wild red leaves::

                  Hands feathering over the lean flank, lazily brushing aside cotton and denim
                  to caress smooth, faultless skin. Fingertips teasing over slim hips. Then
                  gripping both sides, pressing the smaller man back, into the hard wall.

                  ::Youre a right prick, you know that?:: Shudder barely suppressed. Hands dug
                  stubbornly into pockets.

                  ::Love, with little hands,
                  Comes and touches you
                  With a thousand memories,
                  And asks you
                  Beautiful, unanswerable questions.::

                  Each of the last punctuated with a gentle kiss on the mouth, tongue-tip
                  barely stroking over the others parted lips.

                  ::I bloody well hate you:: sighed against the mouth, opening to an eager duel.

                  ::Its Ok, Spike. You dont have to like me,:: the last coherent uttereance
                  before the hungry kiss steals away all breath necessary for speech...

                  Fangs in the softest part of the dark mans neck. :*Can you love me though?:*
                  Shimmer of a question, asked only through the feast.

                  A low moan against the skin, then the blond head tilted back to offer the
                  same. Sharp teeth piercing the layers of flesh, and the answer there, clear
                  and pure. In the blood. ((I do. I always do.))

                  Angel removed his fangs from the exposed neck long enough to stare down into
                  gold-blue eyes. ::So...you wanna practice?:: he quipped, the half grin
                  tugging the corner of his lip upward.

                  It took Spike a moment to get the reference. By then he had tossed the amused
                  Angel onto the large four poster bed, and neither of them gave a damn about
                  the posies.
                  *************************************************************************
                  ::Personally, I found this entire experience quite anti-climactic.::, Anya
                  was saying. She was curled around Xander on Cordelias couch. Willow lay at
                  the foot of the large sofa, Cordelia was covered up in a cozy chair, and
                  Wesley and Giles were reclined on the floor.

                  All had wisely chosen to ignore the loud crash earlier.

                  Giles shook his head. ::It was more than climactic enough for me, thank you.::

                  Xander shot him a worried glance, just as another strange noise resounded
                  from behind the door of the bedroom. It sounded suspiciously like a howl.
                  Muffled somehow. A gagged howl.

                  Xander shivered. ::K, lets not use the climax word anymore this evening.::

                  ************************************************************************
                  ::Youre doing that just to make em wonder....:: Angel was gasping as Spikes
                  open mouth worked its way down along his chest. He had barely gotten the
                  blonds pants off before hed started that odd little yowling sound. Angel had
                  heard just about every noise the vampire made during sex. That wasnt one of
                  em.

                  Spike just grinned. ::Who...me!?::

                  ::Grr...Ahh..:: was torn from Angels throat as the blonds mouth at last
                  closed around his aching shaft.

                  ::Well now, *that* was lyrical.:: he taunted, swirling an expert tongue
                  around the head.

                  ::At least i-i-t was *quiet*...:: Angel panted, digging his fingernails into
                  the floral sheets as that luscious mouth engulfed him tip to root once more.

                  ::Mmmmmm..::, reverberated along the rapidly heating skin, then Spike
                  released the
                  delicacy with another dirty smirk. ::Well. That wont last long. Youre a noisy
                  fuck,
                  Peaches.::

                  ::Who? Me!?:: Angel tossed back, then fell into breathy moans again, as the
                  lips and
                  tongue once more claimed him.

                  :::Mmmmm..:: again, and the dark vampire had to gnaw on the back of his hand
                  to keep from calling out.

                  Laughter around his thickly engorged cock. ::Hmm..wonder if the Prom Queen
                  has any lube in her bedtable....::

                  Angel sat up. ::What?!::

                  Spikes grin easily covered two states. ::Unless you wanna get blood on her
                  pretty pink sheets?::

                  Angel appeared to contemplate the options.

                  ::I could ask her, pet.......:: another feral grin.

                  ::No!! Well just go on the floor.:: Angel replied quickly.

                  ::Fine. Youre bottom anyhow, :: Spike winked, and Angel was going to growl at
                  him,
                  except he was tumbling off the edge of the bed with a loud thump.

                  ::Careful now, youll break the floor, luv.:: the blond quipped again, smart
                  enough to
                  then cover Angels lips with his own.

                  The kiss became urgent and demanding within seconds, elegant faces shifted to
                  their demonic counterparts. Each eagerly swallowed the blood flowing from cut
                  lips,
                  moistening the kiss with its salty, hot flavor.

                  Spike held Angels head in his hands as he pressed him down onto the wood
                  floor, and stretched out atop him, rubbing against him sinuously. Angel felt
                  the cool, hard flesh of his lovers erection against his belly, and he groaned
                  into the deep kiss.

                  Spike was working his way down his body again, biting now instead of kissing,
                  opening tiny puncture wounds and feeding on the drips of blood which gathered
                  and healed almost instantly. Angel shook under the fierce attentions,
                  recognizing and instinctively responding to the almost desperate need.

                  They had survived again, despite everything. They were here. They were safe.
                  They were together. And if it wasnt perfect, wasnt poetry, well, as Spike
                  would say, so fucking what.

                  It sure as hell felt like it from where Angel was laying.

                  Spikes tongue was working along the sensitive skin between his thighs,
                  covering him
                  with kisses and blood. Angel moaned, softly, and tried to shift, to reach
                  his lover and repay some of the caresses in kind.

                  Spike pushed his hands away, and sat back on his haunches, between Angels
                  knees. His gaze was steady. The question unspoken.

                  Angel just nodded silently, and watched as the smile crept across the high
                  cheekbones, and lit the gold eyes.

                  After all they had been through together, it was the last and best gift he
                  could give to his Childe. He gave it readily.

                  Surrender.

                  The surreal coupling inside the world of the Essence demon did nothing to
                  prepare either of them for the intensity of the moment. When Spike laid a
                  hand on either of the dark vampires hips, and tugged him gently forward,
                  Angel swore his heart had lept into his throat. The blue-gold gaze swallowed
                  him, and he tumbled inside of it willingly.

                  Spike gasped as he fully sheathed his length inside the velvet heat of his
                  Sire. He watched as the muscled chest beneath him rose and fell with
                  pleasured whimpers, and soft, husky moans.

                  The stillness could not last. There was too much heat, too much passion
                  flowing between the two to allow for more intoxicating prelude.

                  Spike pulled back mere inches, and Angel arched up. The blond never released
                  his hold on the larger pair of hips beneath him as they thrust against one
                  another in effortless rythym.

                  After many long moments, their joined cry had the other occupants of the small
                  apartment wishing for the returned keening of the Essence demon.

                  By then, even Angel couldnt bring himself to worry about it.
                  ******************************************************************************
                  **********

                  End Part 20

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