The Fight Club's for Wimps

The Clockwork Vampire Series X

Author:Spirit

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'I'm not playing.'

They looked at him then, differing versions of the same expressions covering each face. You're being a stuffy old vampire. You won't have any fun.

True.

And then he risked a look at his lover and lost the fight in one view of those cold blue eyes. There were some things that passed between Spike and Angel that passed over the heads of even their closest companions. Spike was very vocal about what he'd like to do to Angel at any given moment, and in the aftermath of Drusilla's demise, had been more passionate than normal, quenching his desire for Angel's firm body any time he could. They'd barely got outside the hospital when Spike had dragged him away from Cordelia and Doyle and driven the dark vampire wild with desire as he trailed every finger over each and every inch of flesh that Angel owned.

Back home, Spike had been even less restrained, demanding and giving with a lust that Angel struggled to equal. He understood that humans tended to reaffirm their vitality through sex after a bereavement. He could understand that. In the face of death they panicked, feeling the pressure of their own mortality. The number of babies conceived within moments of a loved one dying was something he could only guess at, but Angel believed it would be enough to convince a small jury. Procreation and sex were the strongest methods of defying the reaper...even if the reaper had already visited.

For the past week, he hadn't so much as taken a shower alone. Spike had come with him on the few pieces of work he'd had, even when it had involved nothing more than asking questions off a willing client. He wouldn't say that Spike had helped as such - looking as menacing as possible was something the English vampire could have turned into a league sport, but he had been there, passed a couple of witty and biting comments before accompanying Angel wherever the Hell he wanted to go.

Angel had said nothing, not knowing quite what to say if he had spoke anyway. How do you commiserate with the man you love that he was forced to kill the women he had devoted most of his existence to? Now there was a hallmark moment waiting to be made. Spike hadn't said a single word about her, or how she had finally left the world. For now, Angel was going along with it, but he knew that it might be a long time before the Englishman would let him out of his sight. Spike protected what was his, and having failed with Drusilla, he wouldn't even contemplate a similar mistake with Angel.

So when Megan had been released from hospital under Wesley's watchful and considerably amorous eye, Angel had suggested they join them for an evening. It had been met with both surprise and watchful enthusiasm. Whilst Spike was known for his party-loving tendencies, Angel was happier at home, alone with his lover and a good book. The good book this week was an advanced form of Tantric sex, but still, the point was the same. Spike liked to be with people, Angel liked to be alone.

And so a compromise had been formed.

Wesley, Megan, Cordelia and Doyle had arrived at Angel's apartment a little after seven, bringing wine, whiskey, two family pizzas and some board games. The board games had come courtesy of Wesley, unsurprisingly, but they'd been accompanied by a few new editions that Miss McGill had insisted on buying earlier in the day. Cordelia had balked at sexual charades, already envisaging Spike's gestures and her own misinterpreted impressions. Trivial Pursuits had been rejected after Angel and Wesley had argued about the exact date of the Irish potato famine. After five minutes of such riveting discussion, that one had gone the way of the pizza boxes, neither the vampire nor the demon hunter prepared to give on the details.

Which had left them with this, a battered old English version of the game, which Wesley had kept neatly for most his life and replaced the little notepapers when they'd become worn out.

Angel sighed.

'Okay, but I'm not being Mrs White.'

Spike grinned at him fiercely and tossed him the blue counter.

'It's all right, Pet, you can be the Peacock bird then.'

Angel picked up the counter and placed it on his starting square.

'Why am I the only man here playing a woman?'

He looked at them, daring them to make comment and Spike grinned wildly against his hand. Megan picked up Mrs White and gestured with it to Angel.

'Cause there's only two women here tonight and the game's geared up for an even split. It's not like anyone's suggesting you're a transvestite, you know?'

Angel shrugged.

'I didn't say anything like that.'

'Cause most of them are straight, anyway,' concluded Cordelia.

They looked at her and she put Miss Scarlett on the grid.

'I saw it on Jerry, okay?'

Doyle patted her arm and put Colonel Mustard in the near space.

'It's okay sweetheart, I know what you meant.'

Cordelia snorted.

'Oh, they knew, they just don't like admitting they watch the same crap as I do.'

'That's not true, Pet. I admit to Jerry every time. Just wish that bastard Steve would let them tear each other's hair out every now and again.'

Angel looked at him.

'When do you watch TV?'

Spike grinned.

'When you're trying to recover from sex, Pet.'

Cordelia stuck a glass of the good wine she'd brought into Spike's hands as Angel felt himself coming close to blushing.

'Here, try this and pretend it's someone's blood.'

Spike winked at her.

'Sure, Love. Okay if I think of you?'

She scowled at him and he knocked it back, licking his lips.

'So come on then, explain to me how this game works then?'

Wesley placed Professor Plum on the board and left Doyle dealing out the cards.

'We have to deduce, through careful questioning, who killed Dr Black, where they killed him and what with.'

Angel stared at him.

'This is supposed to be a non-work thing.'

Wesley shook his head and pointed to the notepapers.

'You may only accuse someone when your counter is in a room, and if that person has one of the cards, they have to show you.'

Spike grinned and ran his fingers over Angel's hand.

'You can show me anything you like, Pet.'

Wesley ignored him and explained about the secret passages. Cordelia looked up at Angel.

'You'd know all about them, what with you being old and everything.'

'About what?'

'Secret passages. Didn't you have them in your house when you were actually, you know, young?'

Angel laughed and Spike rolled his eyes.

'You think everyone in Britain lives in a bloody castle, don't you, Ducks?'

She shrugged.

'Well not now, obviously.'

Spike looked at her and she sagged.

'So they don't then?'

He shook his head.

'And back in the potato people, they lived in fancy schmanzy cottages. Very rural.'

'Hey,' said Angel. 'We weren't that behind the times.'

'No? Well if you can rack your brains a minute, Pet and think about where I lived, your place looks like a fucking palace.'

Angel cast his mind back to the tiny terraced houses that occupied London and shivered. Galway had been so much more simple and pleasant than the fuggy streets Spike had grown up on. He conceded the point and rubbed his leg against Spike's under the table.

It had more of an effect than he was expecting. Spike, picking up his glass once more, showed nothing on his face, but his other hand slipped beneath the surface and started gently stroking a slow path from Angel's hip to his knee and back again. The pressure felt strange beneath his jeans and Angel looked quickly at his lover, wondering what kind of game this was. But Spike was wearing his usual amused expression, giving no indication that he was busy making Angel's cock stand stiff enough to prop up the table.

'Angel?'

Angel blinked and looked at Wesley.'

'I'm sorry, what?'

'Your shake,' said the ex-watcher, proffering the dice.

'Oh.'

They took turns moving around the board, but Angel couldn't concentrate. Spike had gradually increased the pressure, moving the tips of his fingers toward Angel's inner thigh and it was all the older vampire could do to maintain any kind of control. He was aware he was beginning to pant and concentrated hard to keep his breathing as silent as possible. It was hard...oh God was it hard, and as Spike's fingers brushed against his balls, he let out an uncontrolled squeak.

They all looked at him.

'Sorry,' he breathed, 'Thought I had who the murderer was.'

'It'll be me, Pet,' said Spike, without a trace of the desire he felt in his voice. 'The vicar's always the bloody killer.'

'Spike,' said Doyle, 'It doesn't quite work that way.'

'What do you mean?'

'Well,' said Doyle, gesturing to the enclosed packet. 'It's random, that's why you can play it again.'

Spike looked puzzled and Angel bit his lip as the friction of fingers on his testicles increased.

'You mean anyone can do it?'

'Yep.'

'Even squeaky clean boy?' said Spike, gesturing to Wesley.

Megan winked.

'He's not that clean.'

Wesley blushed and hurriedly shook the dice.

'Shall we get on?'

Spike grinned.

'Sounds like you're doing fine on your own, Pet.'

They carried on and all the while, Spike started gently squeezing and caressing Angel's balls with one hand. Angel was vaguely aware that he'd started to sweat and wanted to tell Spike to stop. Wanted to tell him to continue.

Wanted, quite frankly, to push Spike up against the basin and sink his throbbing cock inside his oh so biteable ass.

But he took his turn with the dice and although he had to be prompted to ask questions, was able to pay enough attention to the game so that no one noticed. Wesley was making neat little marks on his paper and Megan was doodling what looked like an elephant on the back of hers. Cordelia had decided that she wanted a skirt in the exact shade of Doyle's counter and insisted that she borrow it afterwards to compare in the shop.

Aside from his teasing fingers under the table, Spike was riling Wesley at every turn by refusing to play properly. Angel dragged his mind away from the vision of Spike's naked body and listened to the argument.

'Because,' Wesley was saying, 'There isn't a sledgehammer in the game.'

'There should be,' grinned Spike, 'Bloody effective weapon that is.'

Wesley shrugged.

'I'm sure it is. But it's not one of the clues, so you can't use it.'

'Well I haven't got any sodding weapon cards,' said Spike with a trace of sulkiness. 'You lot did that on purpose.'

'Yeah, Spike,' said Megan with a grin. 'We're all terrified that you're going to use a piece of cardboard against us.'

Angel laughed at that and Spike took his fingers quite off his leg. Before he could even think about what he was doing, the dark vampire grabbed Spike's fingers and slid them over the hard length of his cock. Spike instinctively curled his hand round the throbbing mass beneath Angel's jeans and stroked him decisively, feeling his lover pushing his hips up and try and get more friction. If only he could get that sensitive flesh into the open, he could give his foreskin the attention it deserved.

What he needed, Spike thought as he shook the dice in one hand and took Angel in the other, was a distraction. A noise, something that would cover the sound as he unzipped Angel's pants. What he needed, he thought with a grin, was Wesley. He waited until the demon hunter took a drink.

'So Wes, you found the family birthmark yet?'

Wesley choked as his drink went down the wrong way and Megan patted him hard on the back, stifling the giggles. Doyle laughed and tried not to, and Cordelia huffed and wiped up the mess on the board.

And Angel's fly went steadily down, freeing the stiffened length into Spike's hand with a sigh from its owner. As soon as he was able, Spike wrapped his fingers round the shaft, teasing the flesh up and down with a steady intoxicating rhythm.

'So which birthmark's this then?' asked Doyle. 'Can we see?'

Cordelia prodded him in the ribs and he held his hands up in defeat.

'Just out of interest, Princess,' he apologised.

She wasn't placated.

'Yeah, right. Cause you had no desire to see Megan's naked flesh.'

'Who wanted to see my naked flesh?'

'Anyway,' said Wesley decisively, 'Shall we press on.'

'Keeping her all to yourself, eh Pet.'

Wesley looked at Spike with what he hoped was a children-will-play expression.

'Shall we stop with the silly comments and continue with the game?'

Spike shook his head and felt Angel buck his hips against his hand.

'He hasn't got past first base.'

'Hey,' said Megan amiably, 'No discussing my sex life at the table.'

'It's a sex life,' said Spike with a grin. 'I'm impressed Wesley.'

'Leave him alone, Spike,' said Cordelia, 'I don't want to spend the next hour listening to him deny it when we all know he's boffing her.'

Doyle spluttered into his drink and they missed Angel groaning.

Wesley cast his scornful gaze on Cordelia but it wasn't working.

'Are we going to finish this tonight or are we going to discuss my sex life all night?'

'Sounds fine to me, Pet.'

'Granddad,' said Megan with a smile, 'If you're that interested, I'll give you a detailed account...later.'

Wesley blushed and shook the dice.

'Angel, are you okay?' asked Cordelia. 'You look a little...'

'Dead,' said Doyle Spike dryly.

'Flushed,' said Cordelia pointedly. 'Is everything okay?'

'I'm fine,' said Angel quietly, struggling to not sound like a man who had his cock in the educated hands of an English vampire. 'It's just a bit...'

'Hot,' finished off Spike.

'You're too hot?' asked Cordelia incredulously. 'You're a vampire, how can you have hot flashes?'

'Flushes,' corrected Wesley.

'Yeah, whatever. How can you get over heated?'

Spike grinned and she shook her head.

'Okay, now there's a place I didn't want to go.'

She gestured to Doyle.

'Come on, let's go get some fresh air. I'm suddenly hot.'

Megan laughed and covered under her hand as Cordelia shot her a look.

'I can hear you two in the front room, you know.'

'What?' gagged Wesley.

Cordelia picked up her purse as Doyle opened the door.

'And Wesley, I really didn't want to know that you yell 'Ride em Cowboy' when you...'

Doyle ushered her out of the door.

'Be back in ten,' he said apologetically. 'Just gonna get some fresh air.'

Which left two vampires, a descendant and a demon hunter.

Spike rolled the tip of Angel's cock between his fingers and drew a finger along the slit, feeling Angel tense and almost hearing the grating of his teeth.

'Ride em cowboy?'

Wesley stared at his hands.

'I didn't know the walls were so thin,' he murmured.

Megan patted his hand.

'Never mind, at least they didn't see what you were wearing at the time.'

Wesley looked up into Spike's grinning face and then back to Megan's equally wicked one.

'I should never have got involved with this family,' he breathed.

Megan kissed him and got to her feet.

'You're not involved. You're just distracted in a really interesting way.'

Wesley huffed, but Spike guessed he was more invested in Miss McGill than his casual appearance would suggest. The English vampire didn't think Wesley actually did casual, in any shape or form. But especially not in matters of the heart. He goes on like this, thought Spike to himself with a grin, I may just end up related to the daft bugger!

'I'm gonna go order pizza,' said Megan.

''How can you still be hungry?' asked Wesley. 'You ate most of mine.'

Megan shrugged.

'I got a healthy appetite. And I'm starving after those hospital portions.'

'They seemed quite ample to me,' said Wesley, getting up to follow her.

Megan turned back and grinned at him.

'Someday I'll teach you how to ask for more.'

She trotted off upstairs, a stunned Wesley following two steps behind.

'They all gone now?' asked Angel finally.

Spike listened carefully.

'Yeah, it's just...'

Before he could complete the sentence, Angel was out of his seat and had Spike pinned on top of the table, his mouth repeatedly plundered by the vampire's searching tongue. Spike strained under Angel's long frame, feeling the freed cock pressing into his belly, wanting more, but unable and unwilling to move from this precarious position.

Angel pressed down with his hips, desperate to fuck Spike into the table, wanting to make love to the man who'd brought him to a state of near orgasm and carried on a normal conversation with their colleagues. His hands slid up and down Spike's sensitive sides, searching, needing to find a way under the clothes, needing to feel that luscious flesh against his own. He broke away briefly from the kiss and ripped his shirt off, tearing buttons and seams in his effort to get naked with his lover.

Spike looked up at him and grinned between panting, loving how animalistic his sire became under the heat of desire. Angel was reaching to pull off his T-shirt and Spike complied quite happily, his own thighs now tingling with anticipation.

'You know they could be back at any moment.'

'Ten minutes. Doyle said ten minutes.'

'Doesn't actually mean they'll be exactly that long.'

Angel pulled the shirt free of Spike body and pinned him once more.

'Fuck it,' he said happily and kissed him.

Spike trailed his fingers up Angel's bumpy spine, feeling the vampire's reflex as he thrust his unfettered cock against him. He slid his hands round to the button and unfastened it, listening with pleasure as Angel grunted and pulsed under his hand. He pushed the stiff material down and ran his hands over the soft flesh of the vampire's ass, teasing his fingertips against the dimples that formed in both cheeks. I'll never leave you, Spike thought as he felt Angel's fingers searching out his fly. I'll never let you go.

I promise.

Angel started licking his way down from the succulent mouth, down past the long neck, past his collar bone to a stiffening nipple, catching it between his lips and rolling it until Spike moaned.

'We don't have time for this, Pet,' Spike hissed, not really wanting Angel to stop. 'Not if you want the main event.'

'You are the main event, you bloody Englishman,' grinned Angel and caught the nub in his teeth, teasing it to a hardened lump, tangible beneath his fingers.

Spike moaned and knocked his head back, banging it against the table, heedless of the pain. Angel's fingers seemed to be everywhere and he felt as though his body was on fire. Flushes, flashes, whatever the Hell they were called, he was having them and if he didn't get his cock...

...Angel sprang the button fly...

...Oh God that felt good.

He could feel the Irish vampire's fingers straying down, pulling at the denim and teasing the jeans off. He hadn't worn shoes, seeing as they were at home, but he was unprepared when Angel stripped him completely naked and sat up, almost giggling as Angel regarded him hungrily.

'I've still got my bloody socks on!'

Angel raised an eyebrow and pulled both items off.

'Your point being?'

Spike grinned and reached up to caress Angel's neck.

'They're going to get a Hell of a shock if they come back early, pet!'

'Better make the most of it then,' kissed Angel, teasing the fleshy inside of Spike's mouth with his tongue.

He pushed against his lover, feeling his cock rub against Spike's. As the younger vampire thrust up, Angel pressed down and he knew he wouldn't last much longer. Not after the teasing Spike had delivered under the table. But he wanted to lose himself in that creamy flesh, wanted to feel a part of his lover, wanted to make love to him.

But he wanted something different.

With one movement, Angel rolled over, squashing a hard counter and pushing it aside as he pulled Spike on top of him. The blond's legs slid automatically apart and astride his own and Angel grinned against the tempting lips. He pushed upwards, feeling the tip of his cock brush against Spike's ass and the younger vampire twitched, realising what Angel had in mind.

'You dirty bugger, Angel,' Spike whispered, sounding much more like his native cockney background in this heat they generated.

'That's pretty much the idea,' said Angel, pushing upwards. 'Now if we only had something slippery...'

Spike picked up the wine they'd been drinking - a New Zealand white with a yeasty bouquet.

'A very good year,' murmured Angel. 'Nice nose.'

'Nose my arse,' said Spike, 'As long as it's slippery.'

'Nose your arse? Asked Angel, watching as Spike poured a good quantity into his hand. 'That's something I might do later...'

And then he couldn't say anymore because Spike was kissing him again, lathering his cock with the slightly stinging liquid. It felt so hot, making him throb and buck upwards. Spike anticipated his thrust and sat up, raising himself slightly onto his knees.

'If they come in, I'm not bloody stopping now.'

'Wouldn't expect you to,' said Angel, biting his lip as his cock teased open Spike's ass.

'As long as...you know...Pet,' breathed Spike and sank down, his hips pressed against Angel, his sire's cock buried inside him, his own stroked by Angel's diligent fingers.

For a moment, neither moved, too caught up in the moment, trying to hold off from coming before they'd had the pleasure of making love. Slowly, Spike shifted and Angel groaned, squeezing the cock in his fingers, feeling the heat surrounding his own. He started to move up and down, groaning as Angel matched him move for move, teasing his sensitive glans with every shift of his fingers.

They found a rhythm, thrusting and pulling at one another, flat out on the table with nothing on their minds except pleasure. Spike tilted his hips and found Angel's cock pressing up against the tingling gland in his ass, rolling the head one way and then the other as he felt his balls tighten in confident expectation. He could feel Angel's left hand on his hip, pulling against him as he fucked himself on his sire's cock.

He picked up the pace, seeing the closed eyes and tense expression. Angel moaned deeply and bucked his hips hard, thrusting and panting as he closed in on the climax he could feel coming. Spike pushed harder, the pressure inside his ass pulsating through his hips, his cock tingling and spasming under Angel's hand. He could feel the first of the sticky fluid leak onto his sire's fingers and concentrated, wanting to come with Angel. But it was hard, so fucking hard and he bit through his lip with the effort.

As soon as the smell of blood hit both vampires they shifted to game face and Angel sat up, his fingers working so quickly on Spike's cock that it was almost cramping his arm. He could feel himself begin to cum and sank his mouth on top of Spike's drinking his blood as Spike's fluids spattered against their bellies. He filled the blond vampire's ass with his own spend and groaned as every thrust seemed to pour more of the same into his lover.

They leaned against one another, panting and sneaking blood kisses as the moment passed, locked in an intimate embrace, unaware, for the moment, that they had been seen. As they smiled at one another, the affection and closeness they shared was apparent and the audience closed the door and walked back upstairs.

'Okay, now that was something I never wanted to see,' said Cordelia with a flinch. 'I've heard them doing it before, but it's going to take me months before I get over seeing it.'

Doyle shrugged and poured out coffee for the four of them.

'I don't know, at least they're in love...or something.'

'Something,' agreed Cordelia, 'It's definitely something.'

'I think they're in love,' said Megan, a dreamy expression on her face, 'Which is kind of nice, seeing as they're almost family and all. No nasty divorce there.'

'Amen to that,' said Cordelia, clinking mugs with the English woman.

Wesley sighed and sipped at his coffee, wondering why Doyle could manage to produce decent tasting coffee when Cordelia murdered the beans every time.

'We didn't even get to finish the game.'

'Yeah, we did,' said Cordelia. 'I'm not playing with a board they've had sex on.'

'Ewww, gross, never thought of that,' added Megan with a shudder.

'Still,' said Doyle cheerfully, 'at least...no, it's too cheesy.'

'What?' asked Cordelia, with just a hint of impatience.

Doyle grinned and looked at them all.

'I was just going to say we knew who did it.'

They stared at him.

'And just how is that sentence going to pan out?' asked Cordelia.

Doyle winked at her.

'Angel, with the Spike in the kitchen.'

They groaned.
 

*
 

'Stop moping.'

Wesley stared at the screen, oblivious to anything going on above his head.

'Wesley?'

No reaction.

Cordelia shrugged and walked into Angel's office.

'Can't you do something about him?'

Angel and Doyle were looking over the details of the latest case, completely oblivious to what was going on in the outer office. Angel looked up to the girl, confused.

'Do something about who?'

She sat down on the desk, utching Doyle over, but he didn't mind, she was wearing that skirt, and Doyle's mind went elsewhere when she was wearing that skirt. Everything he'd just heard Angel say went out the window and all he could think of was how good it would feel with her pressed up against his sofa when she was wearing that skirt.

'Doyle?'

She threw her hands up.

'What is it with the men around here? No one pays attention!'

'What was that Princess?'

She glared at him.

'I was just asking you two if you could do something about Mr vampire wannabe in there.'

Angel looked past her to where Wesley was tapping absently through demons, demons, demons. He turned back to her.

'He looks fine to me. A bit distracted, maybe.'

'Yes, exactly,' pounced Cordelia. 'He's distracted.'

'I know how he feels,' murmured Doyle, looking at Cordelia's legs.

'You do? Well can you jolly him out of it?'

Angel shook his head.

'I'm lost here. Wesley's upset?'

She looked at him as though he was the last idiot in the class.

'Well yeah, cause his girlfriend's leaving for England in a couple of days.'

'And then he'll be even more down,' concluded Doyle. 'Yeah, I get why he's upset.'

'She's going?' asked Angel. 'Spike didn't say anything.'

They both looked at him and he let out an 'ah' of understanding.

'Yeah, he's not very...involved with the whole family thing.'

'He said he didn't care if she dropped dead tomorrow as long as he didn't have to clear up the body.'

'Well actually Princess, he said that he'd drink her dry if she died on his property.'

'Spike doesn't have any property,' said Cordelia frowning.

Angel shook his head.

'So how come she's leaving?'

Cordelia assumed that school marm look again.

'Well Angel, I realise that vampires don't have to worry about immigration laws but there's this thing called a Green card that the living need to stay in this country.'

'I know what a green card is,' said Angel.

'Yeah? Well he's got one...she hasn't.'

'Oh,' said Angel. 'Can't she get one?'

They both looked at him, then.

'It's not that easy,' said Doyle. Loads of bureaucracy.'

'Is there no way around it?'

Cordelia looked at him.

'Well she could become a vampire. I don't know what the protocol is on the dead walking in LA.'

He raised an eyebrow at her.

'That was a little uncalled for.'

'Yeah? Well all this is pointless anyway. You know about impossible love, can't you say something to him?'

Angel blinked, the memory coming to him was not what Cordelia might have expected. He knew they avoided talking about Buffy, possibly because of Spike, maybe because of Angel's love for the girl. He had loved Buffy, he wasn't denying it, but what sprung to mind when she spoke of impossible love was how he had felt without his soul, being in love with his childe.

Vampire lore was very clear on how a sire was supposed to feel towards his or her childe. There was an allowable bond between two vampires, expressed in passion and in the kill. That much was understood and commended. It was even heard of to love one's offspring, perhaps not with the paternal concern a human might bestow, but with an incestuous pleasure. But to admit fallibility, that you could place the desires of another above your own was admitting a loss of power. And vampires liked power.

When he had realised that, in spite of his own callous nature, he was in love with Will, he had taken a frightened pleasure in tormenting the passionate vampire. We don't love, he'd told him, but what he should have said was that love was too human a quality to admit to. They were demons, evil by definition, and love was an emotion driven by the heart, by the good within a person. It was something expected to die along with their souls. For the few vampires who retained that ability, it was a torture, loving and never being able to admit it.

Hell had never designed more pure torment than this.

'Angel?'

The vampire shook his head and paid attention to Cordelia.

'Maybe we can work something out.'

'Got a problem, Pet?'

Spike leaned against the door of the office and lit up a cigarette, aware that they were all looking at him and appreciating the audience. He winked at Angel and gestured to Wesley.

'Let me guess, Weasly's all upset cause his tart's leaving the country.'

Angel stared at him.

'Why didn't you tell me?'

'Wasn't important,' sniffed Spike. 'She's buggering off. End of story.'

'It really doesn't bother you?'

'Should it?' asked Spike. 'I only met the silly cow a few weeks ago. It's not like it's going to be a tearful farewell.'

'Well it's good to know you're all heart,' said Cordelia.

Spike grinned.

'I'm a vampire, Pet. We're not known for our compassion for the pathetic.'

'Give him a break,' said Doyle to Spike. 'The man needs someone in his life.'

'He's got Rosie Palm,' said Spike with relish, 'What more does he need.'

Angel looked through the window as Wesley sighed and tapped onto the next web page.

'Someone to love,' he said quietly.

Spike snorted.

'He just wants to get his leg over, Pet. I don't think who it is matters all that much.'

Angel looked at him.

'You don't believe that.'

Spike inhaled deeply and regarded his lover.

'What I believe doesn't make any difference. You're all sitting in here talking about it whilst he's in their brooding. Nothing gets done!'

'Well why don't you go cheer him up then,' said Doyle. 'I'm sure a "don't worry man, you can still have a wank" speech will go down perfect!'

They looked at the half demon, surprised by his outburst and Spike wondered if he was still harbouring feelings about the Englishman. He didn't think they'd ever resolved anything from that kiss, and if this was any indication, Doyle at least had some work to do on the matter.

'Right then,' said Spike. 'I bloody will.'

He walked over to the door, passing Cordelia his coat and grinning as she let out a 'psht' in annoyance.

Wesley was still sitting in front of the screen, seeing and yet not seeing the information before him. He didn't notice Spike, even when the vampire sat down next to him and started puffing smoke in his direction. Oh shit, thought Spike, it's more bloody involved than I thought. Silly bastard's hooked.

He prodded him.

'Huh. What? I'm on it,' said Wesley, startled.

Spike grinned at him.

'That's more like it.'

Wesley adjusted his glasses and sat up.

'What was that? More like what?'

'More like the wanker I've got used to.'

Wesley raised an eyebrow.

'I'm not in the mood to listen to you bitch and complain today, Spike. So if you could just leave me alone to get on with this...?'

Spike hit the switch on the monitor and turned it off.

'Oh, very mature, Spike. Anything else you wish to destroy?'

'It's not destroyed, it's just off whilst you and me have a little chat.'

Wesley looked at him suspiciously.

'This isn't another one of those conversations where you try and convince me that letting you bite me is good for the soul?'

'Not this time, Pet. Although, if you've changed your mind...'

'No.'

'Thought not.'

Spike got out a small bottle of whisky and passed it to Wesley, who looked at it.

'It's not poison. Drink it, Ducks!'

'Why do I want to?'

Spike gestured to Angel's office where the three of them hurriedly looked away and pretended not to be listening in. The vampire got up and pointedly closed the door, much to Cordelia's dismay. He settled back into the seat and continued talking to Wesley.

'Them lot think that you're pissed off cause your bird's going home.'

'She hasn't got a home,' said Wesley morbidly. 'She's leaving because she has to.'

Spike was surprised.

'Thought she was the sole heir or something.'

Wesley snorted.

'To what? She spent all the money she had left after funeral expenses to escape from...' he looked at Spike and read the expression. It clearly said, don't go there. 'To escape. I don't think there's anything left.'

Spike took the whisky back off him and slugged a shot or two back.

'So why's she leaving?'

Wesley grabbed the bottle and drank from it.

'No money, no legal way of staying, no home. Pretty much covers it.'

'So marry her,' said Spike whilst Wesley choked. He thumped him on the back as much to get rid of the choking as because it was as close as he could get to hurting humans without the pain kicking in.

'It's not as simple as that Spike. One doesn't propose marriage just like that. Especially not so soon.'

'What, cause you've only known her a few weeks?'

'Exactly,' said Wesley, feeling a little more assured. 'These things take time.'

'Says who,' asked Spike. 'Where?'

Wesley took another slug and regarded Spike again.

'Everything's simple to you isn't it?'

'Most of it. The stuff that should be simple - yeah.'

'And romance should be simple?'

Spike leaned back in his chair.

'It can be as bloody complex as you'd like. But the basic crap is always the same. You love them, they love you. Everything after that's just wallpaper.'

'Wallpaper,' said Wesley considering, 'Everything you do with Angel is wallpaper?'

Spike grinned.

'Didn't say it was boring wallpaper, did I, Ducks?'

'I suppose not. More of a Mary Quant affair?'

'Well I was thinking black paint with lots of posters, but the style's optional.'

Wesley took another drink, then he sighed.

'Marriage...I always thought it would be more poetic somehow.'

'So buy her flowers and posies.'

Wesley shook his head.

''No, I mean, however you put it, you're talking about committing your life to someone. I'm not sure if I'm ready to say I want to do that with anyone, yet.'

Spike shrugged.

'You either know or you don't.'

'You did with...Him?'

The blond vampire flashed Wesley his dirtiest grin.

'Look, Pet. I'm dead. Marriage isn't exactly an option.'

'And with both of you being men,' put in Wesley, 'Is there an undead Gay organisation?'

Spike shot him a look and snatched the bottle back.

'Vampires don't do the whole I do thing. What're we gonna say? Till death us do part? That part's already over, Pet.'

'Till dust we do become,' mused Wesley. 'I suppose for you, that's a long time, theoretically.'

'Bloody hope so,' said Spike. 'Don't fancy being road dirt just yet.'

'See, that's what I mean,' said Wesley slightly unsteadily, 'It's simple for you. You don't have to think of things like marriage and commitment.'

Spike raised an eyebrow.

'Just because Angel's not itching to wear a big white dress, doesn't mean that I haven't thought about the whole forever thing, Ducks.'

'Oh?'

'Yeah,' said Spike and Wesley waited a minute before realising that the sharing session was over.

'Well, I suppose I'd better get used to her going,' he concluded. 'Try and make the most of what time we have left.'

Spike snorted and got up.

'You're giving up too quick, Pet. If you love the woman, marry her. If you don't, say ta ta and move on.'

Wesley looked at him for a moment before shaking his head.

'I wish it was that easy,' he said.

Spike winked and looked up at Angel's office, meeting the other vampire's eyes.

'It is.'
 

*
 

The door slammed shut on the microwave and Angel wondered if vampiric strength was sometimes as much a curse as a blessing. He misjudged things sometimes, literally forgetting how strong he was. After two and a half centuries, he had expected to be a better judge of his own might, but he was forever crushing things when he didn't concentrate.

Spike wandered down into the kitchen, saw lunch was on and sat down with the paper at the table. He flicked through the first few pages, seeing that they never interested him. He really wasn't bothered which film star had lost which partner to whichever rock star. He'd read Penny Dreadfuls and they'd been a lot more truthful. Spike liked all the lifestyle pages, all the ones that showed you how to become a better person, better lover and better interior decorator. Sitting there, reading such guff with clinically asexual terms gave him the giggles for hours. They may as well have typed insert tab A into slot B and have done with it.

'You reading that crap again?'

'Yeah, Pet. We're learning how to "treat your partner with respect".'

Angel huffed and waited for the ping of the microwave.

'You should write a column. Tell them how to annoy for your country.'

Spike smiled seductively.

'You were listening.'

'Might have been.'

The microwave pinged and Angel withdrew both mugs.

'It's not like I look good in white anyway.'

Spike slowly looked the vampire up and down.

'I think,' he said with a come fuck me grin, 'That you'd look good in anything.'

Angel laughed and handed the mug to his lover.

'Oh yeah?'

'Yeah,' agreed Spike, 'But if I had my way, you'd never wear a stitch again.'

'What, nothing?'

'Not a sausage,' chuckled Spike.

They drank, their faces shifting as blood slipped down their throats.

'I think he's in love with her,' said Angel slowly.

Spike shrugged.

'If he is, he's going to muff it.'

'Muffet?'

'Muff it. Screw it up.'

'Oh,' said Angel and sipped again. 'Why?'

'Because, Peaches, he's not going to tell her how he feels, let her step on the plane and then be your stand in brooding boy for the next year or so.'

Angel swirled the sticky substance round in his mouth and considered.

'Did you ever ask anyone to marry you?'

'Back in the day? Nah. Didn't want a woman hanging around the whole time. Got in the way of business.'

Angel laughed.

'You old romantic, you.'

Spike grinned.

'That's me, Love, practical.'

Angel shook his head and finished up his blood. When Spike spoke again, it was as though his voice came from far away and the dark vampire strained to listen.

'Dru heard about something once. A bonding ceremony between sires and their children. She quite fancied it at the time.'

He looked up at Angel and smiled easily.

'Course the following week she wanted to go join the Mormons. She got caught up in stuff, did Dru.'

'I'm sorry I couldn't do it for you,' murmured Angel.

Spike shook his head.

'Couldn't be helped, Pet. Nothing lasts forever, does it?'

'Except us,' said Angel.

'Yeah, Pet, except us.'

He looked up at Angel.

'And now I'm done moping for the next fifty years, how about you come prove to me how sorry you are?'

Angel laughed and put both mugs in the basin, washing them out.

'You've got a dirty mind, Spike.'

'You love it.'

'Yeah, doesn't change the fact though, does it, Spike?'

There was no answer.

'Spike?'

Angel walked, confused around the apartment, taking in the smell of his lover, unable to pinpoint where he was. He moved, lithe across the floor, suspecting this was a game, but worried nevertheless. He realised he liked knowing where Spike was at all times, had grown used to feeling his closeness, being able to reach out and hug the man. Still, there was something about this that aroused more than just his curiosity.

He moved into the bedroom.

'Spike?'

Immediately, something lassoed round his neck and Angel's fingers flew to his throat. He could smell his lover behind him and felt the strength in the noose, but something was off about it. He didn't feel scared, he felt aroused and he could smell something he hadn't expected.

'Strawberry?'

'Be quiet and do what you're told, mate,' came Spike's guttural tones. 'Be a good boy and you'll get the top prize.'

'Top prize?'

There was a slap on his ass and Angel flinched, the noose tightening uncomfortably.

'Next time, I'm not going to be so nice, Pet.'

Angel bit his lip and kept quiet. He didn't like playing bondage games, they got too violent and he tried to make a visible division between things he did with and without a soul. But he couldn't deny that it excited him and when Spike started steering him towards the bed, he went passively, hoping that his lover wouldn't take this anywhere that would shame him. Angel thought Spike understood, he knew that gentleness, at least in the manner of consent was all-important to the besouled vampire. Pushing those barriers could only end in Angel's disgrace, and that was somewhere he had no desire to go.

He needn't have worried.

Spike forced his lover to lie spread-eagled on the bed and started to tie his hands and feet to the four corners. He was grinning like mad, and seemed to have managed to shed most of his clothes silently and in his usual split second timing. And he was fastening each appendage with...

'Shoelaces? Strawberry shoelaces?'

Spike finished fastening his ankle up and flicked out a blade.

'Which is fine,' Angel went on, 'But it isn't exactly very...'

'Strong, Pet?' asked Spike, trailing the knife slowly up Angel's leg.

'Exactly,' said Angel. 'It's easy to snap.'

'That's the point, Love,' said Spike as he began to slide the blade through the material of Angel's shirt. 'If you don't break the bonds, then you and I will have a bit of fun, and I'll make you cum so hard your eyes'll pop out.'

Angel laughed at the image and then felt his cock throb as the very tip of steel touched his skin.

'And if I do?'

Spike grinned and cut the shirt free, exposing Angel's creamy chest and belly to his gaze.

'Then you're a bad lad and I'll have to punish you.'

'Punish me?'

Spike winked and pointed to the bottles on the sideboard.

'I've got Baileys there, Pet. Ever had oral sex with Baileys?'

Angel shook his head, barely moving as his excitement grew. Spike leaned in close, shredding his sleeves and removing every scrap of fabric from his upper body.

'It's great, Love. Feels all creamy round your cock, coating it in cool slippery foam. But that's not the best bit. Caused the alcohol kicks in after a few seconds and it's hot creamy foam around your cock.'

He sat up and dumped the last of Angel's shirt on the floor.

'And if you're a bad boy, that'll be the first thing I won't do to you.'

Angel shivered and looked up into the coolly perceptive blue eyes.

'Can I talk?'

Spike nodded.

'Prefer it if you moaned, Pet.'

Angel giggled and felt Spike's fingers brush over his belly.

'Don't think there's going to be a problem there,' he managed.

'Good,' said Spike and bent forward to kiss him. 'You can do anything you want, as long as you don't break those bonds. Do that and the game's over.'

Angel grinned at him.

'Where do you come up with these ideas?'

Spike grinned and moved the knife over Angel's jeans.

'Lifestyle section.'

'Really? I'm going to have to read that one of these days.'

'Not,' said Spike as he sliced through the denim, 'Today.'

Angel pushed his hips up and felt the tightly bound laces stretch and threaten to break as he strained. He relaxed almost immediately and realised this was going to be a trickier game than he'd expected.

'Having trouble, Pet?'

'You tied me tight.'

'Yeah,' grinned Spike, 'I did.'

'Not easy,' admitted Angel as the vampire cut away his jeans.

Spike sliced down Angel's left leg, pleased to see his sire's erection throbbing away happily.

'Love, if it was easy, everyone would be doing it.'

He stripped the remainder of Angel's clothes off and sat between the outstretched thighs to admire his handiwork.

'See,' he said, 'Much better without anything on at all.'

Angel laughed.

'Good job it wasn't anything I liked much,' murmured Angel.

'See how you like this,' said Spike and picked up a wet artist's paintbrush.

He started daubing a pattern across Angel's chest, twirling the soft hairs across his nipples, grinning every time that the vampire jumped and twitched. He looked at the shoelaces, but they appeared to be holding and he could feel the tension in his lover building as he realised how little he could move.

'Like that do you?' asked Spike as Angel gave out a hefty moan.

'Mmm,' answered Angel and closed his eyes.

He heard Spike unwrapping something and looked up, seeing the vampire holding a thin straw full of what seemed to be lemon sherbet.

'You been raiding the candy store?'

Spike grinned and started to sprinkle the sugary dust over the wet patches. It stuck instantly and Angel tried to see what Spike had been painting.

'You've drawn a smiley face.'

'Yep.'

'With fangs.'

'Yep.'

Angel bit down the giggles and looked up at his lover.

'You're very strange.'

'Oh really,' said Spike with relish. 'Then you wouldn't want me to do this?'

He bent down and traced every inch of sherbet with his tongue, sucking up a goodly quantity into his mouth as Angel squirmed and moaned beneath him. He looked at the shoelace on his right wrist and grinned. It was holding, just.

'Almost breaking that one, Peaches. You want to calm down.'

Angel groaned and fought to get himself back under control.

'That's better, Love. Now as a reward, how d'you feel about this?'

He lowered his sherbet filled mouth round the end of Angel's cock and blew slightly, letting the crackling substance settle on the sensitive flesh.

'Oh...my...God.'

'I'll settle for Lord and Master, Pet. I think Gods have to behave better,' said Spike, taking his mouth away.

'Don't stop,' hissed Angel and the other vampire reached back down to the throbbing cock, enclosing it in his mouth again.

Fighting against thrusting his hips up was torture, but as Spike swirled his tongue around, the sherbet spilling and frothing around the tip, Angel bit down hard on his lip and forced his ass to stay against the mattress. Slowly, so slowly, Spike slid his mouth down the shaft and up again, making an agonising rhythm that Angel struggled not to join in. Just as he was certain he couldn't take any more, Spike took his mouth away and sat up.

'I'm not sure if you're into this, Pet. I'd expected at least one of those strands to have gone by now.

Angel panted hard and looked up at his lover, his eyes clouding over with lust.

'You bastard,' he managed.

Spike grinned.

'Close were you?'

'You know I was.'

Spike sat back, making sure that Angel could see him and started to stroke the hard length of his cock, making long languid movements, and enjoying the Hell out of it. He used both his hands, to keep up a steady beat, feeling his cock pulse under his hand, knowing that the vampire in front of him was breathing faster, a sure sign with Angel that he wanted to fuck. Spike used the tips of his fingers to trace patterns over the head, well aware that he couldn't do this for too long. He could cum anytime, but he didn't want to.

He wanted Angel to do something first.

The dark vampire watched as his lover closed his eyes, apparently lost in deep pleasure as he stroked his cock. He wanted, God he wanted to touch him, but that wasn't in the bloody rules. He could hear himself panting, knowing that Spike could hear it too, knew how much he wanted to fuck. What he wanted right now was to have Spike fuck him hard, feeling that luscious cock between his ass, knowing that he could bring him to breaking point.

Loving him.

'Will,' he hissed through clenched teeth.

Spike didn't react, just continued to pump away at his pulsating cock.

'Will!' He demanded and Spike looked up at him, his face one mass of lust and need.

'What?'

'Let me touch you,' panted Angel.

Spike chuckled.

'Nah, I like you tied up.'

'Let. Me. Touch. You.'

Spike shook his head, and started squeezing more firmly around the head, dragging his foreskin up and groaning as the first lick of pre-cum slipped over his fingers.

'Will! Let me touch you!'

Spike looked at him,

'Beg,' he demanded.

Angel breathed out heavily and clenched his fists.

'I don't beg.'

Spike groaned and picked up the pace.

'Beg, or I'll finish it now.'

Angel growled, feeling more feral than he'd done in a long time.

'Will, let me touch you now.'

'That's not begging.'

Angel threw back his head, almost insane with lust.

'Please?'

Spike laughed and leaned back against the foot of the bed, releasing his reddened penis.

'okay,' he said lightly.

Angel growled and sprang forward, snapping each lace in one movement. His mouth sunk around Spike's cock and he drew as much as he could into his mouth, eager to take more of the English vampire, wanting, needing to bring this to a much-needed climax.

Almost immediately Spike pushed him off and grabbed hold of Angel's mouth, sloshing the Bailey's into his mouth. Angel spluttered, but met his lover's gaze as he sunk his mouth back round Spike's cock. The younger vampire howled in pleasure, before twisting under Angel's educated tongue.

'Get on your knees,' he growled.

Angel forced himself to move, unwilling to relinquish Spike's body, but aware that what came next was going to be even more rewarding. As he felt the probing cock, lathed in liquor, against his as, he pushed back, needing to feel Spike inside him, wanting more, needing more from this beautiful vampire who held his heart.

'Fuck me,' roared Angel and Spike sunk forwards, burying himself to the hilt in one push.

Angel screamed in delight and Spike pounded away harshly at his lover, his fingers gripping the firm hips so hard they were bruising as he looked. Not that he could focus well. His balls were throbbing and he was being massaged so tightly by his sire's ass. It was almost unbearable but each time he pushed forward, Angel thrust back and he panted hard, his breathing matching the vampire beneath him.

'Oh fuck!' screamed Spike and spilled inside his lover.

With each consecutive thrust, Spike felt Angel tense and then gave out a husky scream as the bed below them was drenched. Both vampires shuddered hard and as Angel gave way, Spike collapsed and rolled off him. Before he could lie flat, Angel's arms were round him, drawing him into his body. His very sticky body. Spike chuckled and met his sire's warm gaze.

'You were very bad there, Love.'

Angel smiled sleepily.

'I snapped the shoelaces.'

'Yeah,' grinned Spike, 'No trips to the candy store you, you bad lad.'

Angel chuckled.

'I think, I need a bath. And the blanket needs changing.'

'Again.'

'Yeah, again.'

'I'll go do it now,' said Angel and didn't move.

'Yeah, watching you go,' said Spike as his eyes closed. 'Make it a deep one, would you, Love. I could use a wash.'

'Sure,' said Angel as he drifted to sleep.

'Good,' murmured Spike, 'See that you do.'

And they slept on the sugarcoated mattress.
 

*
 

'I don't believe this!'

Spike growled and picked up the file from Cordelia's desk.

'Believe what, Pet? That they went out and didn't tell us about it?'

Wesley sat on the edge of the desk and flicked through the remaining magazines that Cordelia had left. Their reluctant receptionist was missing, but, since it was in the four hour span that Cordelia used as her lunch break, that wasn't entirely out of the ordinary. There was no sign of Doyle or of Angel and that was unusual.

Angel rarely left on a case without Spike, but on the few occasions he did, he left a detailed note, usually with a promise to make it up to him in oblique terms. And if it was a case where major demon ass kicking was involved, a very graphic account of what would happen later. But there was nothing here today, and Spike wasn't going to admit to Wesley that he was worried. Or annoyed. That could all come later, when he'd found him.

'Hmmm,' said Wesley, 'I could use a good cup of coffee.'

'Screw the coffee, Pet, I need a drink.'

'Good job I brought vodka, then.'

They looked up to see Megan at the door, huge duffel bag at her feet, bottle in hand.

Spike grinned.

'Cheers, Pet. That all for me?'

She raised an eyebrow.

'You bloody wish.'

She stepped inside and slid into Wesley's arms briefly for a kiss before sensing the atmosphere.

'What's the matter boys? Someone taken away the Scalextric?'

'It's Angel and Doyle,' said Wesley. 'They're not here and haven't left a message.'

'Oh,' said Megan, then grinned. 'You think they've been kidnapped and forced to have sex with big bad demons!'

They stared at her and she looked surprised.

'Whoah, so it is something like that. Are we going to go rescue them, cause I brought my camera?'

'You brought everything,' said Wesley looking at her bag, 'Run out of time at the hotel?'

She nodded.

'Thought I could bunk with one of you guys until I leave.'

'You can stay with me,' said Wesley, trying to keep the enthusiasm to a minimum.

Megan grinned.

'Thanks, I'll make it worth your while.'

Spike groaned and they stared at him.

'What?' asked Wesley.

'Will you just get on and shag him already?'

Megan grinned as Wesley blushed.

'And who says that I haven't done that?'

Spike ran his tongue over his teeth and grinned wolfishly.

'You haven't.'

'Oh?'

'Nope,' said Spike, picking up Cordelia's disorganised out tray.

'And how would you know?'

Spike stepped toward her, meeting her gaze easily. She didn't flinch, even when he vamped out and leaned in toward her neck. As his nose grazed her throat, he could hear her pulse beating a little faster, sensed her emotions. He wouldn't bite her, he couldn't bite her, but Oh God, what if he did?

He pulled backwards and turned human again.

'If you and Weasly had been doing the wild thing, I'd be able to smell it.'

He grinned at her, feeling her pulse slow a little.

'And the only thing that's touched your skin lately is raspberry soap.'

She breathed out slowly and turned away.

'So do we go looking for the others or what?'

Wesley shrugged his shoulders.

'Until Cordelia gets back, we haven't a clue where they went.'

Spike passed Wesley a sheet of paper with a name across the top.

'You know who this is?'

Wesley thought for a moment, pressing his tongue into his cheek.

'I think I've heard of him. Ernie Nellins. He works at a Sports Bar in Silverlake called Shots. Got a reputation for taking his cut anyway he can.'

Spike got up and headed to the stairs.

'Where are you going?' asked Megan.

'It's got Angel's scent all over it,' said Spike without looking back. 'This is where they went.'

'I'll come with you,' said Wesley, as Megan slung her bag under Cordelia's desk and followed her ancestor. 'Megan, you don't have to get involved.'

She looked back at him and smiled gently.

'You guys risked your lives for me, Wes. Least I can do is come make sure your friends are okay.'

Spike rolled his eyes as he picked up the axe from the wall. He couldn't remember ever being so sentimental.

'Plus,' said Megan with a grin, 'If I stay here I have to listen to Cordelia talk about shoes. I'd rather get my head kicked in than do that again.'

Spike heard Wesley gasp and grinned. Having a descendant was a lot more interesting than he'd imagined.
 

*
 

Doyle looked at the bracelet on his wrist. It really wasn't his colour, or style - a touch too girly for him, but unfortunately it was his size and he couldn't get the damned thing off. As he looked around and saw the other cages, he wondered just how this game was going to pan out. It didn't look as though they'd been brought here for a surprise party, and after that lovely welcome they'd been given, he wasn't looking forward to the main event.

When the Howler demons had attacked, he'd shifted to his Brachen face, being stronger and less vulnerable in that form. He was still uncomfortable about being seen like that, especially by Cordelia, knowing that it wasn't a face that would win any beauty pageants. But it gave him extra strength and against the creatures they sometimes faced, it was definite advantage.

Didn't do so well against Tazars though.

Angel groaned from the other side of the cage and Doyle bent down to help him upright. They'd seriously zapped the vampire, knocking him out when he'd tried to protect Doyle. The half demon had followed them into the cell as they dragged Angel in, aware that he was toast if he tried to get away. He'd been sitting in their new home for over half an hour now, listening to the grumblings of the other occupants.

'Where are we?' asked the dazed vampire.

'Them bastards' version of a holiday camp.'

Angel looked around quickly and saw their neighbours.

'Looks like everyone got season tickets.'

'Yeah, and we got the room with a view.'

Angel felt the band round his wrist.

'I know this,' he murmured.

Doyle nodded.

'I heard the rumours. It's not looking good for that dinner I promised Cordelia.'

'No,' admitted Angel. 'Spike's gonna kill me...If someone else doesn't first.'

Jack, the bait that had drawn them here walked down into the room, standing behind the red line and grinning like Spike after a particularly brutal kill. He hit a switch and began to speak, pleased with his captive, ha ha, audience. They exited the cages as the door slid open, and Doyle shivered at the hatred in the room. Something told him that this wasn't where Jack let them all out.

'Listen up, slaves. There is only one rule here,' he paused to make sure they were paying attention. They were, with barely disguised loathing. 'And it's real simple, so you demons can remember it. '

Angel walked purposefully towards him and Jack tsked and grinned wider.

'Stay inside the red. That wristband will make sure you do. I know what you're thinking. You want to tear my throat out... But you won't. Because there is only one way out of here - When that band comes off. And the only way that band comes off, is after your 21st kill.'

Angel stared at him.

'I'm not killing anybody.'

'Then you'll be killed. Either way, fans will get their money's worth.'

He grinned cheerfully at them all, taking in their hatred and feeding on it.

'So why don't you slaves go eat your food and get ready to kill each other.'

He left the room with a flamboyant little spin.

Doyle stepped in closer to Angel.

'We're going to beat the crap out of him, right?'

Angel nodded.

'You can have first shot, I'll make sure of it.'

'Good, cause I was worrying about that.'
 

*
 

Ice is one method of keeping the swelling down in swollen fingers, cold water is more effective, but it warms up too quickly and has to be replaced. Ernie was making do with the ice as he repeatedly, methodically, broke the face of someone who didn't pay his owesies. What was more terrifying than being beaten up was that Ernie seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, as if the actual paying of the debt would be a disappointment to him.

Spike took a moment to appreciate his cold brutality and Wesley walked past him.

'Stop that.'

Ernie turned with a laugh.

'Who's this?'

Wesley didn't flinch.

'I'm Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. And I'm looking for my employer. He came here to question you about Jack Macnamara.'

Megan looked at Spike.

'He's of the double-barrelled?'

Spike nodded.

'Silver spoon variety I'd say, Pet.'

Ernie heard the voices and attempted to look past Wesley, discounting him as suit. When Wesley's expression didn't change, Ernie smiled and gestured to his victim.

'Maybe you didn't notice, I'm kind of busy here.'

'Where is he?' asked Wesley in the same tone.

Ernie laughed.

'Your boss...gave me two hundred dollars to answer his questions.'

He sat down in a chair on the far side of the room.

'I'm a businessman, make me an offer.'

Spike gestured to Megan that the guy was a wanker and she grinned.

'Should we go help him?' she asked.

Spike lit a cig and shook his head.

'Nah, sounds like he's having fun in there.'

They heard Wesley's clear tones again.

'You should understand, the man I work for means a great deal to me. And I will not give you a single red cent. What I will do, Sir, is beat it out of you if I have to.'

Spike puffed hard on the cig, sending billows of smoke at Megan. Wesley playing the hard man? He had to see this?

Everyone on the room laughed, with the exception of Mr Punching bag.

Ernie grinned at Wesley.

'You're from another country, right?'

Spike watched as Wesley withdrew a crossbow. When had he picked that up?

'Who are you? Robin Hood?'

And then the unbelievable happened.

Ernie pulled out a gun, but before he could aim, a dart from the crossbow had pinned his hand to the wall. The gun clattered to the floor and Wesley snatched it up and aimed it at the cronies as Ernie struggled against the wall.

'Please drop those,' said Wesley as they reached for their guns.

The dropped them.

'You can go now,' he said to the victim and the bruised guy hurried past Spike.

Wesley put the crossbow down carefully on the floor and aimed the gun carefully at Ernie's head. He walked over and started to twiddle the dart. His eyes were cold and as the bookie moaned in pain, he shut down all his normal compassion.

'Now, where is my employer?'

Ernie groaned, but didn't say anything.

Wesley flicked it again and although the bookie wailed, he couldn't get anything coherent out of him. The demon hunter looked up and saw Spike watching him admiringly.

'Never would have guessed you had a talent for torture, Ducks.'

The other men moved to walk past him, but Spike vamped out and growled at them, causing all three to stand back against the wall. The vampire grinned - it felt good to be feared.

Megan stepped forward and picked up the crossbow, aiming it at the floor. Spike shook his head.

'No good like that, Pet.'

She looked at him.

'I don't know how to use it.'

The henchmen moved to leave again and Spike grinned.

'Here you go then, Love. Target practise.'

He stood behind her and lifted the barrel into her hands, lowering his head until he could see three frightened faces in the sight.

'Now look down the barrel, Pet.'

She did.

Spike moved the crossbow slightly.

'Got it?'

'Yeah,' she breathed excitedly. 'What do I do now?'

Spike chuckled.

'Eenie,' he said, pointing the dart at the first one, 'Meenie, miney...' they turned to face Ernie. 'Mo.'

Wesley watched them and then looked back at Ernie.

'Do you really want him to pull that trigger?'

Ernie moaned but managed to shake his head.

'Then I'll ask one more time. Where,' he asked, bending the dart deep to one side, 'Is my employer?'
 

*
 

Doyle plopped his spoon in the middle of the gruel.

'Well it's hardly haute cuisine, but it's better than anything my mother used to make.'

Angel sat down next to him.

'At least you get something to eat,' he said.

Doyle looked at him.

'You mean they didn't bring you a little something to tide you over?'

Angel looked away.

They said if I win tonight, they'll order in. One of the local kids.'

Doyle scrunched his face up in disgust.

'That's bad, man.'

'I know,' said Angel. 'We just have to get out of here before that.'

The reptilian-featured demon laughed at them both.

'Didn't either of you two idiots listen? No one gets out of here until your twenty first kill.'

Angel looked down at his empty hands.

'I'm not killing anyone.'

The demon laughed.

'Then I hope I get you, vampire. I could use an easy kill.'

Doyle held his hands up.

'Look, no one's killing anyone.'

There was a puny creature sitting next to him, shaking his head.

'It's not like you have a choice. You kill them, or they kill you. It's as easy as that.'

Angel heard Spike's speech echoed, wondering what would happen if it had been his lover trapped down here instead. Spike wouldn't have any problem offing any one of these demons. He'd probably enjoy the chance for violence in that capacity alone. None of these would matter at all to the vampire. He'd just kick ass, until he found the one who could kill him.

Would they even guess where he and Doyle were?

He'd been in such a hurry when they'd left that he hadn't penned a note to explain where he'd gone and Cordelia had scoped out a shopping trip when she knew they'd be away for the afternoon. There was that one scrap of paper with the bookie's name on it, but with Cordelia's filing system, he doubted they'd be able to find that.

God, he was hungry. He should have grabbed something to eat before they'd left earlier, but he'd been rushing to get all the legwork finished on the case. He'd planned to surprise Spike with oils he'd picked up in a quaint little shop by new Butchers. He'd picked up lemon grass and this really musky wild herbs concoction that he was planning to smother the other vampire in....and then smother himself in the other vampire, all of which had distracted him and made him forget to leave a note.

And now he and Doyle were trapped in this place, barely anything to eat, waiting it out until they had to fight one of these demons and someone got killed. I fucked up, thought Angel, I fucked up in a big way. This could get us both killed and I have no idea how to get these bracelets off...or how to hold off someone else getting dead by my hands.

If I kill them, it's another death to grieve over. Someone else to feel guilty about.

If they kill me, Doyle's on his own and...I promised.

I promised I wouldn't leave him.

Spike

I wish I was with you now.

Angel growled softly and Doyle looked at him.

'You okay, man?'

Angel nodded.

'We're gonna get out of here.'

Doyle looked about them at the competition.

'I like your optimism.'

'Good.'

'Cause I was going for out and out panicking, myself.'

Angel grimaced at the demon.

'Pretty close to that too.'
 

*
 

Spike wasn't panicking.

He had Angel's wardrobes open and was searching for clothes that would pass muster at this fancy gig they were going to tonight. Ones that stood any chance of fitting him. Trouble was, he was struggling to concentrate for long enough to pick out anything because he was not panicking.

'Fuck,' he murmured.

Since his reappearance several months ago, the vampires hadn't spent a night apart. It wasn't something they'd spoken about, exactly, but it was a silent agreement between them that they slept in the same bed. Or once the sofa. And there was that time in the bath...okay, not always the bed, but they stayed together, sharing the night and the solitude of day.

It didn't feel right, being apart from him and Spike was refusing to panic.

They'd go to this bloody fight club, take back the boys, smash some heads and come home.

And maybe they'd fuck.

Spike sighed.

For once, the prospect of his lover's body wasn't driving him wild with desire.

He just needed to know that said body was still alive, so to speak.

'Can't find anything?' asked Cordelia, dressed to kill in a fake fur coat.

Spike huffed and shook his head.

'Bloody vampire's too tall. Hasn't got a pair of pants that don't drag on the floor.'

She looked at him and appraised his physique briefly.

'What happened to those clothes you wore to the exorcism?'

Spike shrugged.

'They got...messed up.'

'Messed up?'

Spike grinned.

'Yeah. See, Angel had this tub of double cream...'

'Not wanting to know,' said Cordelia, holding her arms up.

She walked over to the wardrobe.

'I don't know, what do you wear to watch your lover get killed?'

Spike growled and grabbed at her coat.

'You should know, Princess.'

She paused, about to utter some new sarcasm and then slumped, turning slowly to him.

'I know, Spike. I miss Doyle too.'

Spike laughed, glad someone else had bigger problems.

'Thought he wasn't your type, being that he's not loaded and all?'

She shrugged.

'And don't forget the demon thing.'

'It's his best feature,' smirked Spike.

She shot him a look.

'Better than being the sole member of the defanged vampire support group.'

Spike snorted and picked up a pair of pants that looked shorter.

'These'll have to do,' he said.

'Not bad,' admitted Cordelia. 'At least he won't be alive to see you wear those ugly clothes.'

Spike growled again and looked at her. But she was distracted, not even meaning the insult. Cordelia was worried about Doyle and with that, he could identify.

He wanted Angel back and he didn't care who he had to kill to get him.

Even if it did trigger the pain in his head.

Still, she was looking so bloody pathetic.

He rolled his eyes and tried the comfort thing.

'Don't worry Love,' he said flatly, without emotion, 'We'll get them back.'

She looked at him.

'Are you trying to hug me here?'

Spike removed his hand from her shoulder.

'No...'

He reached in the wardrobe for a shirt.

'Just couldn't stand your broody face. Get enough of that from the Poof.'

He pulled the clothes on and looked at her.

'Well?'

'Well what?'

He gritted his teeth.

'Will this get me past the door at that bloody club?'

She looked him up and down carefully.

'I suppose we can always pretend you're the help.'

He raised an eyebrow at her.

'Wow, Spike, you brush up pretty well.'

They looked to the staircase and saw Wesley and Megan descending it. Cordelia preened as she realised she was not only wearing the better dress, coat and shoes, but that even though she'd done her hair under pressure, it looked better than the messy updo Megan was wearing.

'Well I see I'm the only one who took dressed up to mean actually "dressing up".'

Megan shrugged and walked past her to Spike.

She smiled at him.

'We'll get them back.'

Spike nodded.

'I know, Pet. I'm not leaving without him.'

'Them,' corrected Cordelia.

'Whatever,' shrugged Spike. 'Demon asses are gonna be kicked.'

Wesley revealed the short axe under his jacket.

'And hacked in two if need be,' he added.

Spike grinned.

'Beginning to like this side of you, Pet. Should get you hyped up more often.'

Wesley rolled his eyes and walked past them to the door.

Spike stopped him and sniffed.

'What is it, Spike?' said Wesley impatiently.

'Nothing, Ducks,' said Spike.

Then he grinned.

'Just wondered when you started wearing raspberry soap.'
 

*
 

Spike hated the rich.

There hadn't been a time in his life when their opulent lifestyle failed to disgust him. And this lot....LA's finest turned out to watch demons knock seven kinds of crap out of each other.

Oh yeah, the rich definitely were different.

They were all ass holes.

'This stinks,' he growled.

Megan took his arm and moved towards the far door.

'If it makes you feel any better, imagine them all dead.'

Spike glared at a skinny woman with rubies that looked too heavy for her neck.

'Way ahead of you there, Pet.'

'It doesn't feel right, does it?' asked Wesley. 'I haven't felt so out of place since the last gentleman's excuse me at Uni.'

They turned to look at him and, finding no explanation, to Spike.

He shrugged.

'Load of wankers pretend to have style for a night.'

'Huh?' said Cordelia.

'I think it's a dance,' said Megan. 'I don't really want to think what else he might mean.'

'We're not out of place,' said Cordelia, stretching her neck out and preening. 'We were born to be here.'

'What? In a basement watching demons get their asses handed to them?'

'With the cream of society,' sniffed Cordelia.

'They're the fucking cheese,' snorted Spike. 'Wankers, the lot of them.

A couple standing next to them turned at Spike's words and Wesley ushered them all away.

'We're supposed to be covert here, Spike. Not announcing our presence to everyone.'

'Fuck it,' muttered Spike grimly. 'We find Angel and the half-breed and get out. No pissing about with this lot.'

Cordelia rolled her eyes at him and moved toward the room at the back.

'I'm going to go find out what's going on, you coming?'

Spike shook his head, seeing the other, less obvious door near the kitchens.

'I'm gonna go find them,' he said simply.

'I'll come with you,' said Megan.

Wesley caught her arm.

'I'd rather you stayed here with me.'

'Why?'

Spike ignored the pair of them and headed towards the door.

'Because,' said Wesley simply, 'going with Spike could be dangerous.'

'I'll be fine, don't worry about me.'

'But you might get hur...'

She grinned at him briefly and kissed the tip of his nose.

'Don't even think it.'

She rushed off then, unkempt and slightly dishevelled, looking completely out of place amongst all this glamour. Wesley watched until she was completely out of sight and even then waited a moment. Don't worry, she'd said, don't think about me.

I don't think about anything else.

He walked to where Cordelia stood and followed her gaze into the pit.

'Oh,' he said flatly.

The victor snapped the neck of the other demon without relish or passion. It was simply a means to an end, a barbarous path towards its own freedom. As the crowd cheered, Trepkos didn't even look up. This wasn't a moment to celebrate, just one more death amongst a thousand.

The doors opened and he slunk back in, knowing that soon he'd return and either he would walk out of the ring a free demon, or someone else would hear the crowd's roar. This was liberty paid in blood and the only thing he could do to make it better was to finish it quickly.

It wasn't enough.
 

*

Spike walked quickly down the concrete stairs, hearing the clatter of Megan's heels behind him.

'Take them bloody things off.'

She looked at him, confused.

'What?'

He pushed her and she sat down hard on the step.

'Ow!'

Spike wrenched the shoes from her feet and dropped the tattered remains on the floor.

'Can't be stealthy in heels, Pet.'

She got to her feet angrily and glared at him.

'You could have just told me.'

Spike shrugged.

'And you could have just stayed with lover boy.'

'I wanted to help.'

He started moving further down the stairs.

'I've got a use for you,' he smirked.

'Yeah?'

'Yeah, bait.'
 

*
 

Angel watched as Trepkos walked back inside, Malish defeated, his body probably flung into a pit, or the furnace on the far side of this level. Of all the creatures held here, he was the least aggressive outside the ring. The vampire had watched him kill the little demon quickly and guessed that he had been trying to extend the only courtesy he could down here.

As he walked back up to their paltry space, Angel caught his arm.

'We don't fight each other, no one dies.'

Doyle looked at him.

'Well that wasn't a bit obvious, was it?'

'Doesn't make any difference,' said Angel. 'They've got nothing without us.'

Cribb, the reptilian demon laughed.

'Quit moping. You win, you stay alive.'

Angel didn't look at him, willing Trepkos to listen.

'We can fight them, but only if we stop fighting each other.'

Trepkos looked at the intense vampire for a moment, then moved away, walking into his own personal darkness. Doyle patted Angel on the shoulder.

'I don't think they're gonna listen, Man.'

Angel shook his head.

'Maybe I'm just not saying it right.'

Cribb laughed at Angel again and gestured to the doors.

'You really have a death wish, vampire. No one here cares. We just want twenty one kills and we're out of here.'

Angel stared at him.

'That's how you want to pay for your freedom? With twenty one bodies?'

Cribb shrugged.

'I'll take it any way I can get it.'

Doyle sighed.

'You can't save everyone, Angel.'

'No,' said Angel, 'But that doesn't mean I shouldn't try.'

'If you say so, Man,' said Doyle, 'But I'm just worried about coming out of there Brachen kebab.'

'I won't let that happen,' said Angel.

Doyle laughed, but there was no humour in his voice.

'I don't think you can do much to stop it. They don't exactly work this as a tag team event.'

'I won't let that happen,' repeated Angel.

'You're bloody stubborn, you know that, Pet?'

They turned towards the door, which had been previously guarded by the now unconscious guard. Megan stood behind Spike, sucking her fingers and wondering why punching someone had to hurt so much. The blond vampire lifted the door off its hinges and swaggered over to the red line.

He grinned at Angel.

'See what happens when you go out without me?'

Angel half-smiled, worried what would happen when they found his lover down here.

'Spike, you have to get away. If they find you here...'

Spike laughed and gestured to Megan.

'Don't think they'll be too much of a problem. Seems a handy left hook runs in the family.'

Megan stopped sucking her rapidly bruising fist for a moment to nod in acknowledgement to Angel and Doyle before trying to nurse some life back into her fingers.

'So how do we get you out of here then, Pet?'

Angel showed him the bracelet.

'I don't know how they work, but we can't cross the red line.'

'What happens then?' asked Megan.

'We disintegrate,' said Doyle sombrely. 'And I wasn't looking to leave this mortal coil just yet.'

'Eww, no,' agreed the girl. 'Is there a key anywhere?'

Angel nodded.

'One of the Macnamara's must have it. You get to see it after your twenty first kill.'

'I don't see you staying here that long, Love,' said Spike.

He looked at Angel tenderly, resisting the temptation to stroke his face. In this place of death and slavery, the last thing the vampire needed was to be seen as soft. But Angel looked so haunted and Spike desperately wanted to offer him some comfort. Why couldn't it have been him brought down here? He would have enjoyed the chance to let go, to feel some freedom and kick the shit of someone just for kicks.

He'd not been down the tunnels since Dru...it brought back too many bad memories. So the only fighting he'd done was at Angel's side and he'd actually started to enjoy it. Not the good fight. He was stuffed if he cared about that. But he protected what was his and finding Angel trapped here, and Doyle, for that matter, frustrated the Hell out of him. He'd find this Macnamara bloke and...shit, he couldn't even hit him...but then, that was what he'd brought her for. Arm her with that guard's tazar and see what other instruments of torture he could use. See if the gift for torment had passed unharmed through the generations.

He nodded to Angel, hoping that the vampire could sense how much he wanted to comfort him. Hoping that he knew why he wasn't.

'We'll get you out of here in a bit, Pet.'

'They're well guarded, Spike.'

'I know, Love. We'll sort it, don't you worry.'

And then, the compulsion overtaking him, he stroked his hand over Angel's own.

'I won't leave you here.'

Angel caught Spike's fingers and squeezed them softly.

'Just be careful.'

Spike snorted and Angel smiled.

'I don't want to have to come back here to free you, do I?'

The English vampire laughed briefly and moved backwards.

'We'll be quick.'

Megan picked up the tazar and headed back toward the door.

'We'll kick some bloody ass!'

The pair walked out of the room, Spike sharing a last lingering look with Angel.

Doyle nudged the dark vampire.

'Is it me, or could she double for him at a pinch?'

Angel smiled, thinking of Spike's lean body arching under his own, erection pressing against his belly and strong arms wrapped round his chest.

'Not at everything, no.'

Doyle raised an eyebrow.

'That's a place I don't want to go, isn't it?'

Angel smiled.

'It's somewhere I never want to leave.'
 

*
 

Cribb watched the vampire walk back into his cell and waited until his exhausted companion had fallen asleep.

He had recognised the blond piece when he'd walked in their prison, swanking about like he knew what was what and had the biggest wrinklies in the joint. Yeah, he knew that vampire. Knew him in a way that was all too familiar and took scars to explain. Oh yeah, he'd known the arrogant little fucker, had been on the wrong end of an ambush from him. It was his damned fault Cribb was in here in the first place.

After the stupid little vampire had beaten the crap out of him, Cribb had stalked the tunnels, looking for the bastard, waiting to deliver a bit of well-timed payback. Instead, he'd run into the Macnamara brothers and wound up tethered down here, twenty other demons waiting to take a piece out of him to earn their freedom. He'd wondered what bothered him more, the fact that he was down here, forced to fight for the entertainment of others, or that the vampire he'd been after was walking around free.

Was still walking around free.

Cribb didn't like that at all. But whilst he was enjoying his liberty, people he was bothered about were within Cribb's reach, playing martyr and refusing to fight. When I get that little one in the ring, I'll tear his head from his shoulders and laugh as Spike watches me take away one of his companions. Let him see what revenge I can make when there won't be anything he can do about it.

But the piece de resistance, the ultimate revenge had just occurred to him.

And he'd enjoy the Hell out of it.

He'd heard all the myths about vampires - what they were allergic to, what could kill them...how they interacted. He knew vampires used each other, being dominant and powerful, that they obeyed a lore and that the bond between sire and child was more than just sharing a meal. But what he'd just seen confirmed the rumour he'd heard earlier.

The vampire they'd trapped was supposed to have a soul, something to war against the darkness. He'd be capable of human emotions, their arrogance, their anger...their passion. If this one could feel anger that people were being killed, he wasn't like anything Cribb had met before. He had a conscience, an ability to care and consequently, to love. And from the look on Spike's face, it wasn't unrequited.

Somehow, William the Bloody had dumped that insane vampiress he'd protected for years and moved on to the vampire with a soul. There was a passion between them that was all too human. Cribb could smell the heat in the air, taste the change in hormones as the one came in contact with the other. This wasn't just something Spike owned, this was his lover, his beloved.

And Cribb had found the perfect way to make him suffer.

He slipped the belt from his pants and moved to the edge of his cage, the one backing onto Angel's own. As the half-demon slept, the vampire watched over him. Protecting him, Cribb guessed, but didn't care.

He's going to need protection of his own before I'm through, he grinned.

Angel stirred slightly and rested one hand on the floor.

It was all the invitation Cribb needed.

He slipped the belt through the mesh and fastened it painfully round Angel's hand. As the vampire turned in surprise and tried to free it, Cribb secured the other wrist too, fastening the belt and ensuring that Angel couldn't move away from the side of the cage.

'What the fu...?'

Cribb grinned and moved out of his cage and into the vampire's.

'Let's just say you're gonna do me a little favour, vampire.'

Angel looked at him, still confused as to what was wanted. As Cribb started to unbuckle his pants, the vampire gaped and strained at the makeshift bonds. He was strong enough to break it, he knew that, but it would take him a while and Cribb didn't look as though he was in the mood for bargaining. He wet his lips and started trying to talk.

'Cribb, you can't do this.'

The demon's only answer was to backhand his face, Angel rocking backwards under the blow. Bastard was strong, Angel thought as he reeled. Bastard was too fucking strong.

Cribb laughed, the sound tinny and painful in the darkness of their cell.

'I can do whatever I want, vampire.'

'No.'

Cribb gestured to Doyle.

'Oh? You want me to do your little mutt instead?'

Angel looked over at the sleeping Doyle, knowing he'd have no chance against Cribb's brutality. He pulled again at the bonds, but it was so tight and the awkwardness of the angle didn't give him much to pull against.

'Leave Doyle alone. He's not yours.'

Cribb grinned and moved in close.

'You are though, Angel,' he hissed.

The vampire felt Cribb's clammy fingers against his waistband. He huffed and automatically tried to kick out, get away, but the demon was sure, measured and had control of himself. Every outward kick from the vampire was answered with a crushing blow to the ribs. He stopped struggling, determined to save his strength and work out how to stop this.

But Cribb's fingers forced the zipper on his jeans and yanked his pants unceremoniously down to his knees. Cold, unwelcome fingers probed at his ass and Angel flinched, pulling away and into another kick. As they slid uncomfortably inside him, the vampire moaned, not so much at the pain as the humiliation. He heard Cribb's hushed laughter and shuddered.

'A little loose, vampire. Spike been slipping you it a lot, huh?'

Angel closed his eyes. So that was it. One of the demons Spike had crossed in the past was in the position for some payback. And Angel was the message.

He had to try and stop this.

'He's just someone I know.'

Cribb's tongue flicked out and slapped brutally against his ear.

'Don't even try it, Soul Boy. I saw the way you two looked at one another. He cares about you.'

A third finger pushed against him and Angel winced.

'He just wants me out of here cause I owe him money.'

Cribb laughed.

'Then why are you wearing his name on your ass?'

Angel squeezed his eyes closed and pulled on the bonds. The fingers withdrew and Cribb pulled him round roughly, sinking his mouth over the vampire's own. The tongue he'd seen working flicked out and Angel gagged as it shot down his throat, its barbed edge cutting against his soft flesh. He choked as Cribb pulled it out again and coughed hard, blood lining his mouth. As he spat the taste of the demon onto the floor, Cribb thrust forward without warning, clasping his hand over Angel's screaming mouth.

Each time he pushed forward, Angel could feel something tearing in his ass. He pressed his head against the mesh and tried to take his mind away, knowing that if his screaming woke Doyle, the Irishman would likely suffer the same fate.

He'd been in this position before, but then, it had always been his own fault that he was punished, his own actions that had brought him to this kind of brutalising touch. Hell was somewhere he didn't want to think about, but Cribb was bringing back memories of that bestial place with a vengeance. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to be savaged, even Spike's most violent touches had been born out of arousal and they'd never forced one another. It hadn't been necessary. Both vampires were hungry for one another the whole time, everything had been a game, a loving affirmation of something Spike couldn't say.

This wasn't Hell, but it was damned close.

Cribb was thrusting harder now, he hadn't hit Angel in over a minute and the vampire was thankful for small mercies. He healed fast, but the injuries Cribb had inflicted were harsh, the demon's strength being what it was. He could feel the mesh imprint against his face and prayed, to whatever Gods listen to vampires that it would be over soon, and that he could forget this had ever happened.

'Hmmm...Angel?'

The vampire heard Doyle's voice, soft from sleep and a tear slipped from his eye. He couldn't let Cribb do anything to him. He wouldn't allow it.

Cribb grunted hard and pulled quickly out of Angel's bleeding ass.

'So the mutt's awake. I was just going to kill you in the ring, but since you're awake...'

He moved forward, ready to pounce on the tired half-demon when Angel kicked out and knocked the legs from under him. The vampire wrenched at the bonds and as the leather started to tear, bent his fangs to the material and shredded it. Cribb struggled back to his feet, huge erection slathered in the vampire's blood, a careless grin on his face.

'Everytime your little vampire fucks you, you'll remember that I've been there, and just see if your cock'll stay hard then.'

Angel got to his feet and pulled his jeans up, ignoring the searing pain in his ass and faced down the demon.

'Everyone lives but you.'

Cribb chuckled.

'You couldn't take me on your best day. How you gonna do it when you can't walk?'

Angel ignored him and pushed the demon slowly out of the cage.

'Everyone lives, except you.'

Cribb just laughed and returned to his own prison, leaning against the wall and humming a happy tune. Angel pulled his pants up, closed the door and moved to the other side of the cell, sitting down and ignoring every pain, concentrating on revenge. Doyle breathed hard, unable to accept what he'd just seen, and not wanting to know what he'd missed.

'Angel, I...I'm sorry, Man.'

Angel looked at him and for the first time, Doyle knew what it was to be afraid of the vampire.

'You never mention this again.'

'But...Spike...'

Angel grabbed the Irishman's collar and pulled him to eye level, his demon face evident and angry.

'He doesn't find out. No one finds out. Got it?'

Doyle nodded quickly, aware for the first time in Angel's presence of the beat of his own pulse. I never want to know what Angelus was like, he thought. I don't want to know anything capable of that brutality.

'You got it, Angel. I'll never tell anyone.'

Angel looked at him for a moment, debating whether the half-demon understood.

He sat back, his face slowly returning to its human guise.

'We're getting out of here. And Cribb dies when we do. This all dies with him.'

Doyle nodded slowly.

'If that's what you want.'

Angel stared at the grinning demon in the opposite cell.

'It isn't even half of what I want.'
 

*
 

The Macnamara's were sitting in their office, congratulating each other on a good evening's entertainment. Each demon had fought brutally, killing each other with ruthless efficiency and some crowd impressing moves. The rumours they'd started about the besouled vampire and the half demon in the basement had caused even more interest, the odds depending on how the soul affected the bloodsucker's performance.

'Well, Jack, that was a fine performance from me, if I do say so,' grinned Darin. 'Suckered them in with that, "poor innocent me and my misguided brother" act.'

'Yeah,' grinned Jack, 'I like the touch about how you'd leave me to get Ernie's "special treatment".'

'Mmm, I was going to add how he sometimes takes things too far, but I didn't want to provide your corpse.'

Jack laughed, pulling up a glass of champagne and sipping it.

'You know, sometimes you seem as if you might actually off me.'

Darin ran the glass under his lips.

'Maybe someday. When you get too annoying.'

Jack laughed, missing the serious tone and knocked back the rest of the glass. He missed Darin's intense gaze, not realising that his life was just five heartbeats into his brother's hands.

'Well now, isn't this a fab do.'

The brothers turned to the door, seeing a blond vampire and a girl with what looked like incredibly bruised fingers. The vampire was grinning and smoking casually, as if he found this whole thing very amusing and the pair of them his night's entertainment.

'Very nice,' said Spike moving forward. 'Very relaxing.'

'Who is this?' asked Jack.

'Doesn't matter,' said Darin, 'I'm calling security.'

'Oh yeah, security,' grinned Spike, 'Got hard heads, them blokes.'

'Tell me about it,' muttered Megan.

'He's lying,' said Darin and moved to pick up the phone.

Spike threw back his head and laughed.

'Nah, I don't think so, pet. See, me and my...'

'Companions,' said Megan helpfully.

'Minions,' said Spike. 'I've always liked minions better. Don't you, mate?' he asked of the fat man.

'People don't threaten me, I threaten them and then I deal out the punishment.'

Spike nodded as if he understood and blew a mouthful of smoke in Darin's face. As the fat man coughed, Cordelia and Wesley hurried into the room.

'There's only the cells downstairs left,' said Wesley. 'All we need are the keys.'

Spike nodded and tossed the crossbow he'd hidden under his coat to the Englishman.

'That torture thing you were doing earlier. Care to show these wankers what it was?'

Wesley snatched the crossbow into his arms and aimed carefully at Jack's head.

'With pleasure,' he said coldly.

'Gentlemen, gentlemen,' said Darin, realising that he wasn't going to get out of here that easily. 'I'm sure we can come to some arrangement.'

Spike nodded and Cordelia stepped forward, picking up the champagne they'd been drinking.

'You're drinking Dom? My boyfriend is in your basement and you're drinking Dom?'

'Er, Cordelia,' began Wesley, but she wasn't to be stopped.

'God, I spent years watching my parents drink themselves into a stupor at parties drinking this stuff. It's the one thing I could be assured of was of the good and you lowlifes are drinking it when I can't afford any.'

She shook her head.

'Shoot them Wesley. They're bad.'

Spike grinned and puffed hard on his cigarette.

'Now now, Pet. We need the key off them first.'

She huffed.

'So get the key and then shoot them.'

'Cordelia,' said Wesley warily, 'You really haven't got the concept of threats yet, have you?'

'Sure I have,' said the ex-cheerleader confidently, 'Give me the keys or I'll make sure Spike gets his drinkies for the next week feeding off your fat corpse.'

They looked at her a moment and Wesley shrugged and re-aimed.

'I take it back.'

Spike chuckled and stubbed out his smoke on Darin's coat.

'She gets a little PMTish when anyone nicks her bloke.'

Jack looked at Megan's bruised fingers and sneered.

'You want to get some ice on that.'

She glared at him for a moment, before turning to Spike.

'Do we need this one conscious?'

Spike looked at the younger brother and pretended to consider.

'Shouldn't think so for a second, Pet.'

She grinned.

'Good.'

Jack looked a little confused until the English girl threw her full weight behind a hefty punch to his jaw. He rocked back and hit his head against the wall, effectively knocking him out.

Spike nodded.

'Nice right, too.'

Megan grinned and Wesley leaned over.

'Where did you learn to hit like that?'

She took the bottle out of the champagne cooler and plumped both her hands in.

'You grow up with three brothers, you learn to hit hard and fast.'

'Ah.'

Spike leaned over Darin, who was sweating profusely.

'I wouldn't bother getting the gun out, Pet. I'd have your guts for garters before you got anywhere near pulling the trigger.'

He sat down on the desk and lit a second cigarette, twirling it in his fingers and nearing Macnamara's sweaty hand. So he couldn't bite the fat man, which was a total waste. He didn't know that, did he? And whilst he was sweating it out, Spike could get some fun. He'd tell Angel how well they'd all worked as a team. That should put a smile on his mopey face.

Bloody humans keeping demons as slaves. It sucked big time and Spike wasn't having that. They'd get the key, set the demons loose, otherwise Angel'd only panic that they hadn't done the right thing and then go home and drink the night away. And then they'd go to bed and Spike would remind Angel just how much more fun they could have together. See if he didn't take him on every bloody case from then on.

God, now that they were close to getting them back, Spike was feeling horny again. The evening's unsurety having faded away as the four of them had worked through the Macnamaras' limited security. They'd been so concerned about the demons getting out, that they hadn't even considered anyone coming in. Stupid assholes, Spike thought, didn't think about all the options.

He grinned.

Didn't count on us either.

He concentrated on Macnamara again and moved the lit end closer to his hand.

'You're not being very vocal, Pet. Do I have to persuade you?'

Darin looked at the four of them and grunted in defeat. Best thing he could do was to let this lot go, let them free this lot of demons and move somewhere else...start again. And leave his stupid brother for a start.

'Okay,' he said carefully, 'Have the key. Just leave quickly and don't hurt me.'

Spike rolled his eyes as though hurting the fat man would just be boring and snatched the device off him.

'Thanks, Pet. Knew you could do it if you tried.'

'It won't help you though,' Darin panted out as Spike walked away, 'Your friend's in the Ring now, and I'm laying odds against him getting out.'

Spike just waved.

They started to leave the room and Darin's hand strayed to the phone. Spike turned back and looked at Megan, her hands still bathed in the ice.

'Think he's going to tattle on us, Love. Could you...?'

Wesley looked at her and saw the faint pain lines etched across her face. He had heard a crack in that last punch and hoped he was wrong about a broken finger. Dream on Spike, he thought. She can't hit anything with those bruises.

Megan looked at Spike and shrugged.

Then she swung round, her fists still in the ice bucket and slammed the lot into the fat man's face. His chair went out from under him and he collapsed on the floor with a satisfying grunt.

'Okay,' she said walking to the door, 'Done.'

Wesley watched as she left the room, his mouth agape.

Spike patted him on the back.

'Wonderful thing, family.'
 

*

Doyle breathed hard against the slats.

He'd watched the odd fist fight in his time, even bet on the outcome of a few, but at least all of the combatants were willing contestants. This is brutal, man, he wanted to say to someone, but in the presence of these demons, he didn't know who was your friend and who was just looking for an excuse to rip your head off. And after what he'd seen earlier...

He'd come to Angel originally because of the Powers that Be, but he'd stayed for two reasons. The first was that Cordelia was as hot a piece of flesh as he was ever likely to see, and now that she'd condescended, (her words, he chuckled) to let him touch her, Doyle wasn't going anywhere. But the second reason he'd stayed had been Angel himself.

The vampire was colder than Doyle could ever imagine, his willingness to prevent people from succumbing to the darkness was as frightening in its intensity. When Doyle had pointed out that the temptation to drink human blood would grow all consuming, the vampire had stopped and thought. And that in itself was amazing - a vampire who would listen and maybe make changes because of that advice. As a result, Angel had welcomed both Doyle and Cordelia into his life, making an effort to reintegrate into human lives. Okay so he didn't manage it all that well, but he'd lived on the Earth for two hundred years plus, and in Hell for an unknown amount of time, which had to count for his lack of people skills. They'd managed, the three of them for a while, slowly becoming friends and defending against the darkness, but Angel still hid, staying away from the people he saved.

And then Spike had come along.

Doyle was aware of the vampire and had some idea of the relationships vampires forged. He didn't think that there had been another one like this in all of history. After he'd come to terms with the idea that Angel was gay, he'd had to deal with the fact that his lover was a muzzled homicidal maniac. He'd said as such to Angel once and been overheard by Spike. The younger vampire hadn't minded in the least, grinning to know he still inspired such fear. But despite its unlikeness, Spike had achieved something that neither he nor Cordelia were able to do.

The blond had admitted that Spike the vampire wasn't much different than Spike the man, which was kind of disturbing. But the Englishman had retained much of his human qualities. He was as au fait with the world as Doyle was, relishing its little touches, albeit from a highly deadly point of view. Defanged as he was, Spike's natural wit had kept its bite, and Angel, accepting his childe as his lover and companion, had started to understand what made someone human. He had begun to take an interest in people, not just in how they could be saved. His friendships had developed, making decisions that didn't just depend on a do or die situation.

Along with Wesley and Cordelia, they'd grown used to the vampires, enjoying seeing a lighter side of their employer. Spike was as annoying as Hell, but even he'd changed his attitude in some small way. Doyle had always trusted Angel when his back was against the wall, knowing that the vampire would come through for him, but now, he'd trust Spike too. Whether it was because Spike knew that Angel would be angry and possibly not want to do the wild thing, or because Spike himself actually cared what happened to them, the vampire had put himself between the humans and danger more times than any of them could discount as a fluke.

Doyle shuddered as he realised that everything might change as a consequence of today. The shame evident on Angel's face was something that quite literally struck at his heart. All the anger and threats that had come after it seemed to pale to Doyle, the knowledge that Cribb had done this because of Spike shadowing everything else. Angel had been so forceful about keeping this quiet. He'd been adamant that Spike was not to know.

Is that the definition of love, wondered Doyle, hiding the pain from the one you cared about? He wasn't sure, but he owed it to Angel to keep his mouth shut. He was going to do everything he could to help the vampire leave this alone, if that's what he wanted. Once they got out of here, he'd make sure no one heard about it from him.

If they got out of here.

If Angel survived this fight.

In the centre of the Ring, Cribb circled the vampire with a hungry grin across his face. He could see the bloodstains dribbled down Angel's vest and was aware of the bruises and cuts beneath it. He wasn't sure if the vampire could've taken him in top condition, but he was pretty certain that in his dishevelled state there was no way Angel was walking out this Ring.

'Might as well lie down now, Angel,' sneered Cribb.

Angel didn't answer, simply edged around him, waiting for the perfect blow. Cribb grinned as he saw the vampire limp slightly, aware that the ruptures in his ass had caused it.

'I thought screwing your lax ass would be pleasant enough,' smirked Cribb, 'but your friend can tell him that after he finds your ashes.'

Angel drew back his fist and slammed it into Cribb's face, drawing blood and sending the demon back against the wall. He shifted to his vampire face and felt the demon within him start to howl. He suppressed the urge so long, felt the need to keep his humanity was so important that he hadn't risked letting go in a long while. Perhaps he'd been wrong about that. Perhaps Angel couldn't deal with this creature.

But he knew a demon who could.

Throwing his head back and growling, Angel gave in to the demon who owned his body. He sighed hard as his morality was suppressed, his vow to protect sliding away as his more brutal side rose to fill the core. It both scared and thrilled him to give way, feeling the pleasure from his demon as it realised the violence at hand.

Cribb rocked back on his feet and grinned.

'So you do have a set after all.'

The vampire stared at him and moment and then kicked out at Cribb's shin, smashing the cartilage that protruded. He ran his tongue over his fangs and gave a lazy grin.

'Yeah I got a pair.'

He kicked again, this time knocking Cribb off his feet.

'Yours.'

Cribb growled and rolled as the vampire came after him.

'This isn't that brotherly love spiel you were giving out earlier.'

Angelus walked toward the wall, casually kicking at Cribb with every step.

'What can I say,' Angel slammed his heel against Cribb's spine. 'You showed me the light.'

The demon howled in pain and struggled to get away from the vampire's relentless hammering.

'You're dead, vampire.'

Angelus laughed and reached for both staffs that had just clattered down.

'Yeah? How about you come join the club?'

The crowd roared.
 

*
 

Spike pushed open the doors and looked about the room. All the demons were pressed up against one wall, presumably watching the fight. He caught sight of Doyle and walked over to him, barging the other demons out of the way, ignoring their indignant complaints.

'Here you go, first prize ticket out of here, courtesy of your Uncle Spike.'

Doyle spun on his heel and watched incredulously as the bracelet fell off under Spike's gadget. The vampire tossed the object to Wesley and the demon hunter set about freeing the other demons. He looked back at Doyle, expecting some kind of quippy gratitude, but the Irishman offered none. He looked haunted and Spike looked around, expecting to see a little pile of ash on the floor. When he'd grasped that there was none, he turned back to the half-demon and grabbed him.

'Where's Angel?' he snarled.

Doyle seemed to shake himself out of his reverie and gestured through the window.

'In there.'

Spike dropped him and walked to the opening. There were no guards in there making them fight. There was no manager taking bets upstairs, he'd seen to that, but the crowd had returned and were cheering on the mayhem as a demon who looked vaguely familiar was taking the pounding of his life from the vampire.

'What happened,' growled Spike.

Doyle thought hard on his promise.

'Angel and Cribb had a falling out. When they called out for a fight, they went in willingly.'

Spike watched the melee carefully.

'Cribb...I know this demon. Kicked seven kinds of shit out of him a few months ago.'

'Yeah,' managed Doyle, 'I think that's what this is about.'

Oh good call, Doyle, the half-demon thought to himself, that's close enough without telling everything, isn't it?

Spike closed his eyes a minute, wondering just what had happened between his lover and that demon.

'More than just a few bad words, Pet.'

'They didn't like each other,' offered Doyle.

Spike spun to look at him, vampire eyes blazing.

'It's more than that.'

'What makes you say that?' asked Wesley, coming up to them.

Spike gestured to the ring.

'Because that's not Angel fighting.'

They looked at him, incredulous.

'It's Angelus,' he replied simply.
 

*
 

Angelus got as close to Cribb's foul breath as he could stomach and rammed the broken staff through his left shoulder.

'You know,' he began as Cribb tried to bend over in pain, 'I was always good at this.'

He pulled the demon back upright and rammed the other shaft through.

'I think the longest I managed to keep anyone alive was six days, and he was human.'

As Cribb moaned in pain, Angelus grabbed both sides and started pulling at them, tearing through the muscle of the demon's arms.

'I wonder how long I could do it with a demon.'

He laughed and let go of Cribb briefly, snapping the staff across his knee.

'Of course, you'd know all about that,' he smirked.

He leant in to where Cribb was panting hard, trying to right himself.

'Bit of a mistake, raping a vampire.'

He rammed the broken wood through the demon's thigh, eliciting a howl that was lost in the cries of the human above them.

'Course, I don't think it's one you're going to make again.'

Cribb mumbled something and Angelus bent down to listen.

'What was that?'

'Just kill me,' panted Cribb. 'If you've got the balls to kill me, that is.'

Angelus laughed.

'I don't think you get off that easily.'

He shoved the remaining section of staff through Cribb's belly and stood up.

'Oops, all out of weapons. What else we can use?'

He ripped at some of the bone on the demon's shoulder. As Cribb howled, he grinned and looked at his bleeding prize.

'Now that, is handy,' he smirked. 'Got your own set of weapons attached. I like your style.'

'Hello Angelus.'

The vampire turned to the open doors.

Spike walked in lighting his cigarette. He looked up to his sire.

'And what brings you here, Pet?'

The vampire smiled, but there was none of Angel's loving regard in his expression.

'Clearing up business,' he said, kicking the wood in Cribb's belly.

Spike nodded and breathed out the smoke.

'Care to share on that, Love?'

Angelus shook his head.

'I don't share with the neutered.'

Spike sniffed and walked closer.

'Yeah, I forgot how charming you could be, Angelus.'

The vampire visibly preened and stepped backwards, his feet resting on Cribb's prone form.

'Well you should know, lover boy. See you fell into the old role again. How does it feel to be a Slayer substitute?'

Spike puffed on the cigarette, repeating to himself that Angelus was just reaching, that he was just trying to get a rise out of him.

'Yeah, you're the king of wit, Pet. Don't know how we struggled by without you.'

Angelus grinned and moved towards his childe.

'So why don't we deal with that "you betrayed" me issue?'

Spike shrugged.

'Because I know something you've forgotten.'

Angelus was scant inches away.

'And what's that?'

Spike grinned.

'The curse still stands.'

He roared and smacked his sire with his left hand. Angelus fell backward and hit the floor. In that moment when he was disorientated, Angel resumed control, fighting the demon back down before he could harm his lover. When he looked up, Spike was there, concern in his cool blue eyes, hand outstretched to pull him to his feet.

'All right, Pet?'

Angel nodded and grasped Spike's fingers.

'Thanks for that. I wasn't sure how to come back.'

'Well that's what happens when you let him out to play.'

'Yeah, I guess.'

Spike grinned and looked up to where the crowd were booing, wondering what would happen next.

'So what are we going to do about him?'

Angel looked to the crippled demon. Cribb was barely moving, but Angel couldn't find any semblance of pity that he'd suffered at Angelus' hands. He turned to Spike, praying the perceptive vampire wouldn't figure it out.

'He doesn't matter, let's just leave him.'

Spike stared at Angel. Something wasn't right here - Angel wouldn't let Angelus out for anybody. Whatever had happened before was darker than anything they'd faced before and his lover wasn't telling him. He stunk of the demon and Spike couldn't work out if there was an extra tinge there, something more sinister than sweat and blood.

And Angel wasn't telling.

'You want to give him the key?'

Angel shook his head slowly.

'Leave him.'

Spike heard the coldness in Angel's voice and knew when to leave it. He nodded slowly and wrapped his arms round the battered vampire. The crowd cried out and jeered at this abandoned fight, but both vampires ignored them, heading towards the door and their companions.

'So you're not going to leave me again, are you?' asked Spike.

Angel leant his weight on the vampire, wanting nothing more than to get home and sleep in their bed, Spike's body pressed against him, driving away his recent memories.

'Never again,' he whispered.

They went home.
 

*
 

Megan and Wesley stood at the door, waiting for the car.

'I'll miss you,' he said tenderly.

'I know,' she grinned. 'But I'll come back, and there's this thing called a plane. You can come see me, you know?'

He nodded.

'I know.'

She sighed and pulled him into her arms, nuzzling into his neck.

'Megan, I...' he stopped, 'No, I'm sorry, you were saying.'

She shook her head.

'No I wasn't.'

She leant up and kissed him passionately on the lips, teasing him, making the Englishman want to throw caution to the wind and have everything in a moment.

'I love you,' he murmured against her ear.

She snorted and Wesley looked at her.

'Was that funny?'

Megan nodded.

'Oh yeah, cause I knew that.'

'Oh,' said Wesley confused, 'Oh.'

She grinned.

'Very eloquent.'

He paused a minute and then snagged.

'That wasn't what you wanted to hear, was it?'

She kissed him again.

'Well I was kind of hoping you'd say you'd come over and see me and we can try out that whip cream thing Spike was talking about, but it'll do.'

Wesley smiled softly and lifted her bruised fingers to his lips, kissing them gently.

'Well as long as it hasn't put you off.'

She shook her head.

'Can't think of anything that would do that.'

The car horn beeped and she picked up her bag.

'I have to...go.'

'Oh, right,' said Wesley, looking out. 'So, I'll see you?'

'Yup.'

Spike walked up to the doorway and stood next to Wesley.

'She off then?'

Wesley nodded, watching as Megan approached the car.

'Yes.'

Spike looked at him a moment and read the stress in his face.

'Oh for Gods sake, just go with her!'

'Hmm?'

Spike gestured to the car.

'Go to England. Go have a fortnight's shagging or something.'

Wesley turned, ready to tell him that it wasn't practical, that he hadn't got the money, that it wasn't that simple. But then he thought about Angel and whatever it had cost him to release Angelus in the Ring.

Nothing was that simple, except when it was.

'Right,' he said. 'Tell Angel I'll be back in a couple of weeks.'

He grinned in the dark and ran out after his girlfriend.

Spike watched them leave and headed back inside, to where his lover was sleeping fitfully on the sofa. They'd only been back a couple of hours, but Angel had lain down, Spike pressed against his chest and slept, worn out from the events of the previous day. Spike had smelt Cribb all over him and from the way he flinched, he could only guess what else had gone on. Bullshit. He could tell what had happened and when he'd made sure Angel was well again, he'd find Cribb and kill the pointless little fucker.

And Angel wasn't talking about it, which disturbed him more than anything.

It was his fault, he guessed. His fault that Cribb had gone after Angel in the first place and nothing Spike could do would apologise for that. If he'd actually finished him off in the tunnels, none of this would be happening. Angel wouldn't be lying here, stinking of sweat and cum, too worn out to even shower off the smell of the demon who'd raped him. Spike closed his eyes against that. He couldn't change the past, he wouldn't even know how to start. He could only do what he could in the present, try to make it easier on his lover.

Angel shifted uncomfortably on the sofa and Spike moved next to him, hearing the vampire whimper in his sleep. He picked him up and carried him to the bed, covering him with the blanket and shrugging off his own clothes. He left Angel dressed, unwilling to see the damage Cribb had wrought, smelling it all the same. As his arms moved round Angel's shoulders, the vampire pressed back against him, finding the comfort in sleep he didn't seek whilst he was awake. Spike held him tight, a single tear creasing his cheek, grateful for this small mercy.

That Angel still loved him.

He bent his mouth to Angel's ear, kissing over the healing wound.

'I'll never leave you,' he whispered.

There was a twitch of a smile on the sleeping vampire's lips and Spike felt the knot around his heart lessen. There was something else he wanted to say.

'I love you, Angel,' he murmured and sank against the pillow, keeping guard against the demons that warred against them.

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