"Spike… are you paying attention?"

"Yes."

"Then tell me what I just said." Angel put the down the case file he had
been reading from and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Some twat has gotten it into her head that her boyfriend’s possessed or
joined a cult or something because he’s been ‘acting very odd’ and has
suddenly become fond of candles." Spike continued to tap the pencil he’d
been playing with against his boot in a rhythm only he could understand. He
knew it was getting on Angel’s nerves, but that was all the more reason to
do it.

Angel uncrossed his arms and nodded his head, satisfied that Spike had been
paying attention. "Well, that’s the gist of it- I suppose. And don’t call
Ms. Patton names when we talk to her, okay? And STOP that tapping."

"Yeah, whatever. Can we go out now?" Spike threw the pencil onto Angel’s
desk and shifted in his chair. He’d been here a week. A long, long, long
week of arguments, truces, more arguments, accusations, explanations and
maybe even some forgiveness and understanding. He and Angel had come to a
tentative agreement not to talk about certain things, which was fine, but
that meant they had to find new things to talk about. Which was not fine.
Spike didn’t want to like Angel- he wanted to continue hating him- that’s
how it should be, after all. But sometimes it was hard to keep the anger
and hate on the surface. The fact was, he and Angel had more in common now
than they ever had in those first years together and it was damn annoying.

"Out? Out where?" Angel could see that Spike had drifted off somewhere in
his mind and spoke loudly to get his attention back. Spike had been
restless all day, pacing the apartment griping about missing ‘Passions’,
whatever that was, and acting more like his usual obnoxious self than he
had all week. But then again, Angel had been feeling restless as well. They
hadn’t had a case all week; the case he had been reading to Spike had come
in only that morning and it wasn’t exactly an emergency or even very
interesting. Angel had shown Spike the demon and vamp hangouts the last
couple of nights, but everything had been quiet.

"Aren’t we going to go talk to-" he waved his hand at the case file on the
desk, "whoever that woman is, about her ‘odd’ boyfriend?"

"No, not tonight. Ms. Patton told Cordelia for me to come by tomorrow when
he goes to his bowling league."

"Bowling? Yeah, right, he’s an evil, possessed, cult member all right. So
we’re staying in?"

"Yes, unless you can think of something better to do. I’m not much for
clubs and such, though, so that’s out."

"Why am I not surprised? So what do you do for fun at night when you’re not
working? I mean besides jerking off in the shower and then settling down
with a nice book?"

Before Angel could decide whether it would be worth it to do bodily injury
or ignore Spike’s comment, Cordelia opened the door and strolled in. "I’m
going now, Angel. I know it’s still early but it’s been really slow. Hey! I
know, why don’t you and blonde boy wonder here go skulk in some alley and
rustle up some business? It’s almost payday and I need some new shoes."

"Um.. okay, Cordelia.. and I don’t ‘skulk’. Good night."

"You do skulk, I’ve seen it. Don’t let toothless talk you into anything too
stupid."

"Never." Cordelia had already closed the door to his office and they heard
the front office door slam moments later. Spike, to his credit, had not
said a word, and just sat there grinding his teeth. Cordelia had adjusted
to having Spike around surprisingly well, trading insults with him and
taking great pleasure in teasing him about his clothes, hair and especially
his current ‘grrr-less’ state.

Wesley, on the other hand, avoided Spike whenever possible. He’d stop
outside the front door and look through the window before coming inside.
And if Spike were there, he’d stay only as long as necessary before finding
some reason he had to leave right away. Wesley would no longer come
downstairs to have dinner or chat. And if he needed a book, he’d ask
Cordelia to go down and get it if Spike was there. Angel didn’t know if he
was truly afraid of Spike or he just couldn’t stand him. Spike was
something of a bully, after all, and Wesley was an easy target for his pent
up aggression. Again, to Spike’s credit, he’d pretty much stopped
tormenting Wesley after the first few days. Angel hadn’t even told him to
stop, but Angel supposed it wasn’t any fun to pick on Wesley since he
wouldn’t fight back. Angel didn’t fool himself by thinking that Spike
stopped simply because he knew it was the right thing to do.

He’d tried to talk to Wesley about the whole situation, but Wesley had done
that ‘stiff upper lip’ thing and told Angel that Angel could ‘associate
with whomever he chose’, turned and walked away. There was work to be done
there, Angel knew, but it would have to wait until Wesley would agree to
talk.

"Hello? You still in there, Angel?"

Spike’s voice brought him out of his near brood. "Yes."

"So, what are we going to do tonight?"

"I guess we can do as Cordelia suggested- without the skulking, of course."

"Of course. So where are we going? Some place fun?"

"I don’t know, we’ll see what we can find. Come downstairs while I change
and we’ll talk about the possibilities."

"Right behind you, mate."

The two vampires rode the elevator downstairs in silence, Spike tapping his
foot impatiently. After a few seconds, they reached the apartment and Angel
opened the door of the elevator. Spike didn’t wait for it to fully open
before he was out and headed towards Angel’s bedroom, anxious to get the
ritual clothing selection out of the way and get going.

part 1B

Some of Spike’s excitement seemed to transfer itself to Angel and he
hurried into his room. He opened the old armoire and started sorting
through the shirts and pants hanging there. "You could change, too, if you
wanted."

"What’s wrong with what I’ve got on? I like it."

"It’s obvious you like it; you’ve been wearing the same thing for years.
Don’t you ever get tired of the same thing everyday?" Angel pulled out one
of his many black pullovers but then replaced it and moved on.

"Don’t you ever get tired of wearing black? It’s the same thing."

"But at least the styles are different. And I do have things other than
black, I just don’t wear them much."

"Yeah, yeah- you know you look good in black, so why change.. heard it
before."

"Whatever. Just thought I’d offer in case you were tired of wearing the
same thing all the time." Angel fell silent and continued sorting through
his clothes.

After a few minutes of this, Spike began making annoyed noises behind his
back "What? Can’t you sit still for a few minutes?"

"I’ve been sitting still all day! How do you stand it?"

"How do I stand what?"

"The boredom! You never have any fun, you never go anywhere that isn’t
related to a case, you barely talk to anyone unless you have to, even me!
It’s almost as bad as Sunnyhell! Now choose something black and change, I’m
about to loose my mind in all this quiet."

"All right, all right. Keep your pants on." Angel turned around and held up
a dark blue silk shirt and a pair of dark blue pants. "See, I told you I
have something other than black."

Spike snorted and rolled his eyes. "Whatever, just hurry up."

"We still haven’t decided where we’re going. But you’re right, I never go
out just for fun, so that’s what we’re going to do tonight."

"Hunting?" The longing was clear in Spike’s voice.

"No." Angel turned away and started to unbutton his shirt. "I’m going to
change now."

"Okay."

"Well- leave."

"It’s not like it’s anything I haven’t seen before. Why can’t we go hunt? I
know we can’t kill anything, but we can still chase, can’t we?"

"No."

"Why not? Don’t you miss it?"

"No."

"Liar."

Angel didn’t bother denying it again. He slipped off his shirt and turned
to put it on the bed. "What?" Spike was looking at him in a way that really
worried him. Spike only got that look when he was up to something.

"Oh, nothing. Just- thinking."

"Dare I ask about what?"

"You really don’t miss it?" Angel shook his head but Spike continued as if
he hadn’t noticed. "You don’t miss choosing the perfect prey? Sorting
through all the wonderful possibilities? Will it be a young, just budding
girl? Fresh and sweet and so naïve it’s almost painful to watch. A young
woman, looking for just a little attention, a kind word, an acknowledgment
that she’s important to someone? Or maybe you’re in the mood to taste evil
tonight, so you look for the scum that roam the streets after dark, looking
for their own prey? Promise of some good violence there, musses the
clothes, though. Or just maybe, an angry young man, still cocky enough to
think he’s seen everything the world has to offer, sure that he knows what
terrors the night holds better than you do. And he’s not even afraid when
you lead him to that dark corner or darker alley-.. Whatever the choice,
they are all perfect in their own way."

Angel tried to shut out the memories of that night and all the nights
afterwards as they hunted together-.the cruel games they would play in
pursuit of a few moments pleasure. "I don’t think about it." But the
protest was weak at best.

Spike slowly slid closer to the end of the bed where Angel stood frozen.
His voice took on a soft, seductive tone, just above a whisper. "Oh, sure
you do. The chase comes next. Long, short, challenging or easy, doesn’t
matter, the chase is the chase. Senses alert for the slightest weakening of
their will, the first moment of their surrender to you. They are never
really hard to seduce, which is almost disappointing sometimes. A cheeky
grin, a few appropriate words, maybe a few caresses and they fall into your
arms, practically begging to be taken. Even those angry young men surrender
themselves to you with barely any resistance."

"No- I don’t miss-I don’t remember- don’t think about-" Angel hadn’t moved
from his spot at the end of the bed, bare-chested and holding his discarded
shirt. And even though he didn’t need to breath, he was gulping in great
draughts of air as he fought to control his reaction to Spike’s whispered
words. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the other man as he slid
further down the bed, caressing the bed as if it were flesh he was feeling
instead of the cool satin sheets.

"And then the kill- oh, the kill- so delicious, so sweet. You try to draw
it out, make it last forever- but it never does, does it? The slight
resistance of flesh as you slide your teeth in -- they always stiffen a
little when they feel that -- but as soon as the blood starts to fill your
mouth you don’t even notice anymore, just the pleasure. The warm skin
against your lips, under your hands-. Then that rich, thick liquid is
bursting into your mouth and down your throat.. you gulp at first, trying
to keep up with that pounding heart. That’s the best part, at the
beginning, especially if they were frightened or aroused and their hearts
are pounding, pounding, pounding.. so loud it sounds like a drum in your
ears, through your whole body- calling you- wanting you- you, only you-."

Angel licked his lips, but still didn’t move-couldn’t move-as Spike
continued to creep closer, eyes shining with lust and his own memories.

"Now that great pounding heart is slowing ever so slightly and you have to
put more effort into getting at what you really want- so you start
sucking.. just a little- it still comes easily enough-.but then it slows
again, more this time. Now you really have to work at it, draw it out of
them a mouthful at a time, just one more and then one more and one more
and, please, one more- until you’ve taken it all. All they are, all they
ever were, is now in you-. moving through your body, feeding you for
another night, fueling you for the next hunt, the next chase, the next
delicious kill-.."

Spike was now sitting at the end of the bed, Angel standing between his
legs, eyes still locked with his Sire’s. Slowly, Spike ran his hands up the
outside of Angel’s thighs, scarred eyebrow rising in an unvoiced question.
When Angel didn’t pull away, Spike’s hands continued their journey inward
to the extremely noticeable bulge in the front of Angel’s pants. "So you
don’t miss it at all? None of it? Not even this?" He squeezed lightly,
causing Angel to jump and take a step back.

"No, I don’t." But the growl in his voice betrayed him. Not stopping to
think, Angel swooped down and crushed Spike’s lips to his in a hungry,
quick kiss, then stood and moved away, taking his clothes with him.

"Liar!" Spike licked his lips and grinned.

Angel stopped just outside the bathroom door and kept his back to Spike.
"Maybe-. But just remember, Spike," he turned, a sly smile on his lips, and
ran his hand down his chest seductively, stopping when he reached the top
of his pants, "I’m better at this than you are." He then turned and
continued into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

"Bloody Hell!" Spike threw himself down on the bed and stared at the
ceiling, dreading and anticipating Angel’s return to the room. "Well,
Spikey-boy, you are either incredibly clever or incredibly stupid. And I’m
voting for ‘stupid’ right now. As soon as he realizes what he just did,
he’s going to stake me for sure." ((Oh, well, at least I’m not bored.))
 

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