Change is good for the Soul

The Clockwork Vampire Series XII

Author:Spirit

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'Go away Doyle.'

Doyle stared at the wooden door, knowing that his girlfriend, (or at least, the woman who had been his girlfriend until Angelus had opened his big Irish mouth) was on the other side. Covering his mouth a moment, he wondered what he could say to make her let him in, so that he could explain, but nothing, absolutely nothing came to mind.

'Cordelia...Princess, let me in, would ya?'

Oh great, Doyle, that's sure to win the lady over.

'And why would I want to do that? So you can tell me all about the happy time you had with Wesley?'

Oh and score one below the belt.

'Cordelia,' he paused, sighed, 'It wasn't like that.'

There was silence from the other side of the door.

'Cordelia?'

She opened the door a crack, the safety still on.

'I really don't want to hear this now, Doyle.'

'Then when do ya? Cause Monday morning it's you, me and Wesley back in the office. You planning to keep the silent treatment up then?'

She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow and Doyle's spirit sagged. She had excluded whole groups of school kids for less. How on Earth did a little Irish half-demon expect to get past defences built up over a Prom Queen education?

'Did you have anything else to say?' asked Cordelia.

'I...'

'That's what I thought,' she said and moved to shut the door.

Doyle stuck his foot in it, stopping it from closing.

'It was nothing, really.'

And how true was that?

'But for what it's worth, it happened before you and I ever got together.'

'Oh,' said Cordelia.

A foot beyond the door, maybe?

'And that's supposed to make it all okay. That my so called boyfriend is gay and he decided not to tell me.'

She slammed the door and Doyle lifted his arm to hit the wall. He stopped before it ever connected and saw an older man two doors down, watching him. Doyle lowered his hand slowly, and shot the old guy a smile.

'Women,' he said cheerily.

Old guy watched him a moment, before shaking his head and going back inside.

Well done Doyle, he said to himself, managed to screw that one up nicely. Couldn't have done it better if you'd have tried. Ah Gods, who would have thought that one drunken kiss would wind up like this - the woman of his dreams finding out and dumping him. Why was his luck so buggerdly bad?

He made his way back to the apartment he shared with Wesley and knocked on the door, too pissed off to have to search for his key. After a few minutes, Wesley came wearily to the door, his glasses askew as he tried to focus on who was outside.

'Hey Wes, it's me,' said Doyle sombrely. 'Gonna take the chain off?'

'Doyle?' asked Wesley wearily. 'I wasn't expecting you back tonight.'

Doyle closed his eyes a second.

'Just let me in, eh?'

Wesley nodded and backed away from the door, pulling the chain off and allowing Doyle entry.

'Cordelia in a bad mood?'

'Something like that,' muttered Doyle as he surveyed his recently tidied apartment. 'You cleaned again, right?'

Wesley shrugged and headed towards the couch.

'Living in a pit is something I gave up when I was twelve.'

Doyle nodded and walked to the fridge, looking for a beer. He was a little shaken to find the whole thing cleaned and sparkling, something it had not been earlier that day.

'You did all this tonight?'

Wesley settled back against the couch and pulled the blankets up to his chest.

'I was awake.'

Doyle looked at Wesley's face, seeing the tension etched across his brow, the faint pulse that ticked at his temple. Angelus' words had affected them all, but whilst Spike and Angel were no doubt working out their differences with the help of lust and love, Wesley had come home alone, bearing his grievances in silence.

'He didn't mean it, you know?'

'Hmmm,' said Wesley, eyes closed.

'When he was...drugged. Angel, he didn't mean it.'

'That I have been inferior, that my judgement had been lacking. No, I'm sure he didn't mean that.'

Doyle caught the bitter tone in Wesley's voice and didn't like it. It spoke of such defeat, and it worried the Irishman a little.

'Wes, man. You got to learn to give a little. Just shrug it off.'

'Oh really,' said Wesley, 'And have you managed to shrug off whatever he said about you?'

Doyle put the bottle to his lips.

'It's different.'

Wesley barked out a laugh and opened his eyes, regarding his flatmate with something like contempt.

'Oh, I see, when cruel clarity is dealt out, I am supposed to ignore it and leave the brooding to you Irish. Is that it?'

Doyle shook his head.

'You know, for an educated man, you can really be an ass.'

Wesley raised his eyebrows.

'And just what is that supposed to mean?'

Doyle gestured widely with his bottle.

'You're lying here, feeling so sorry for yourself, moping in your well of sorrow, when some of us have lost our girlfriends.'

'Cordelia's left you?' asked Wesley in surprise.

'Bang on the money, Wes.'

The Irishman drank again, letting out a deep sigh as he thought about it.

'But, why?'

Doyle pinched the bridge of his nose and sat down on the end of the couch.

'Doyle?'

Wesley looked at the visible pain on his friend's face and tried to think. What on earth could Angelus have said that would make Cordelia abandon her lover? He had, in Wesley's humble opinion, been over indulgent with the young lady, allowing her get away with murder, or it's fashion equivalent, at every opportunity. Doyle's behaviour, Wesley had admitted privately to himself, had caused vague stirrings of jealousy in the Englishman - Cordelia seemed to have been treated with a great deal more respect than Wesley.

'What did he say?'

Doyle slugged back the last of the bottle.

'He told her that you and I had been playing tonsil hockey.'

Wesley's mouth dropped open.

'Ah,' he said, 'Ah.'

'That's right Wes,' said Doyle, 'You've got just how I feel, down.'

Wesley shot him a look and then sat up, trying to think how Cordelia would have taken the news. The problem was, he wasn't sure how he'd just taken it. It was something that had happened, but it was never discussed. Neither man had said a word about it since that date. To hear Doyle talking about the event now seemed cheap somehow, as though the Irishman was stating clearly that it was a mistake, something he'd never intended to happen.

True.

Wesley was certain that until they'd reached that bar, he had never looked at Doyle as anything other than a friend. Well, maybe that wasn't quite true. He was an observant man after all, and a person would have to be blind to miss the twinkling eyes and seductive smile, not to mention a lean frame topped by hair you instinctively wanted to ruffle.

Oh no, he'd never thought of Doyle that way at all.

But in spite of his observations, Wesley was a man who had never considered himself in any way attracted to other men. His education had passed without event of that nature, in itself unusual within his year. He had noted the respective attractiveness of his peers, but hadn't thought about them in any relation to himself. He had never imagined himself kissing another man, and until Doyle had kissed him, had never given thought to the pleasure inherent in such an act.

And, well, there was Megan, descendant and recipient of all of Spike's sexiness and eroticism. She wasn't beautiful, per se, but had exchanged that lack for an overdose of naughtiness, her every act designed to attract sexual thoughts. It was something Wesley had seen Spike doing to great effect, although the vampire was so obviously dedicated to Angel, it was almost pointless. Wesley hadn't denied to himself, that something about Spike attracted him, but he had translated that desire onto Megan, and she had been more than happy to indulge him. Her presence had allowed Wesley to see Spike in a different light, and her saw the vampire as a friend.

Did I really just think that? Note to self, when 'vampire' and 'friend' are mentioned in the same sentence, it's time to worry.

Was he really so fickle, accepting the woman because the man was off limits? He didn't think so. No, more than that, he didn't believe so. When she had welcomed him to her bed, he was genuinely excited by her, not some attraction to someone she represented. He'd made love to the person, regardless of what lumps and bumps came along.

And if at some point he'd wished that the flesh he was stroking was of a slightly darker hue, the muscles beneath it stronger, the dark hair darker, shorter, it made no difference. Did it?

He looked up at Doyle.

'I'm sorry Doyle. I really don't know what to say.'

Doyle shrugged.

'Yeah, neither do I, which is why I'm back here and Cordy's all wrapped up there with Phantom Dennis.'

'Who?'

'It's her ghost,' said Doyle, 'Came with the apartment.'

'Ah,' said Wesley, 'Resident spook. Not a problem I gather?'

'He's a bit protective, but nothing like as bad as his mother.'

Wesley wondered why the shiver ran down his back at Doyle's accent. He'd heard it so many times, saying so many different things. Why would it seem different now?

He shook his head.

Talking about that kiss had brought up emotions he had been quite certain were over.

Now he was not so sure

Doyle got up and headed over to the fridge, pulling out another beer.

'I think I'll have one of those, Doyle, if you don't mind.'

Doyle pulled out the second bottle.

'Sure, but you're paying for the next lot. I can't keep losing all my booze to Spike.'

Wesley snorted a laugh and waited until the half-demon had brought the bottles over. The Irishman sat down on the couch and passed one to Wesley, wondering why this felt too close all of a sudden.

He shook his head and put his feet up on the coffee table, listening to it creak under the weight of his legs and all the magazines he had piled up on it. It was the one area of the flat that Wesley never tidied, or at least, never moved anything from. He'd come home several times to find all his 'Bouncy monthly's piled up neatly in two stacks.

Hey and look, Cordelia, if I was gay at all, I wouldn't have a big pile of naughty mags on my living room table. Full of girls and big boobs and I like them! And like, Wesley, he's not gay. He's got that English hellfire to take care of his needs. Okay, so she's actually in England, but she's very girly...except in all the ways that she's exactly like Spike.

He sighed.

Who am I kidding?

Don't know if you can call it gay exactly, but I'll not deny I've always seen men...a little differently. But women, I've seen them too, and I can't say I've ever wanted to turn down a firm thigh and a dirty grin. Trouble is, I don't think I'm all that bothered which sex has the grin.

Or the thigh.

Never acted out on it though. I mean, I may have looked and said, 'hey look, that man's attractive', but I've never done nothing. Look at that time with Angel. I saw he was handsome and attractive and okay, so I felt a little stirring down South of the pleasure trail, but I never thought about kissing him.

Yeah, okay, so there was that dream about me, him and that shower of his, but that doesn't count. Was just my subconscious. And I had loads of dreams about all sorts of people. Even my fifth grade physics teacher.

Eee!

So, okay, so I see myself as attracted to men and women. I've known that for ages, years no, and it's not been an issue. Course being married to Harry took care of a lot of that. Does that make me Bi? Is that even a confirmed state of sexuality?

Ah hell, does it even matter?

Maybe I should be honest with all of them, Cordelia included.

Just come out and say, hey, I like men and women, so what?

So Cordelia isn't even talking to me. So I've just disturbed Wesley by bringing it back up. He just wanted to forget about it and that bastard, Angelus just throws it up in my face.

That's hardly fair now, is it?

'Ah I'm sorry Wes. I shouldn't have dredged it all up.'

'Dredged?' asked Wesley. 'Angelus brought it up. You have nothing to apologise for.'

Doyle shook his head.

'No, I know how you were trying to forget about it. We both should, I know. But...'

'What?' interrupted Wesley, 'What did you say?'

Doyle tried to remember what he'd said.

'Er, I said...I know how you're trying to forget about it.'

Wesley stared at him.

'I never said that.'

It was Doyle's turn to look confused.

'What d'you mean?'

Wesley breathed deeply and put his bottle down on the table.

'I never said I wanted to forget about it.'

'Oh.'

Doyle looked at his knee for a minute, unsure if he could meet the Englishman's eyes.

'We were drunk, I mean, it was just something that happened.'

Wesley looked at the sad expression on Doyle's face.

'I'd never kissed a man before.'

Doyle looked up quickly.

'Me neither! I,' he paused, 'I mean, I'd never actually....'

He met Wesley's earnest gaze and smiled gently.

I suppose being drunk isn't an excuse?'

Wesley shook his head after a moment.

'No it isn't. It's a reason, or part of one.'

Doyle lifted the bottle to his lips and found Wesley's hand stopping him.

'And if you want to take that excuse away, don't you think you should stop now?'

Doyle swallowed hard, and then lowered the bottle.

He tried to laugh.

'You always this way with men you've kissed?'

Wesley rolled his eyes and smiled a little.

'Just those who claim alcohol is to blame.'

Doyle did laugh then.

'It wasn't the alcohol.'

'I know it wasn't,' said Wesley, 'Well, alright, that's not completely true.'

He rubbed both hands back through his hair.

'I don't think I would have had the courage to go through with it if I hadn't been three parts to the wind.'

Doyle chuckled.

'You got a way of complimenting a man there, so you do.'

Wesley raised an eyebrow and Doyle smiled as he realised talking about that kiss wasn't proving as traumatic as he'd thought. And if it wasn't for the fact that he really wanted to try it sober, Doyle would probably have ended the conversation right here and gone to bed.

Which raised a whole new set of questions.

'Ah, I don't know Wes. You got Megan and I got,' he shrugged, 'A very pissed off Cordelia.'

'I don't,' said Wesley quietly.

'Hmm, what was that?' asked Doyle.

'I don't have Megan.'

Doyle gaped at him.

'Since when?'

Wesley reached for the bottle and stopped his hand before he reached it.

'The other morning, when I stayed over at Spike's.'

He sighed.

'They were...otherwise engaged and she was listening, and getting...she was...'

He paused, wondering how to put it.

'She was getting off on them screwing?'

Wesley shot him a thankful look.

'Yes, precisely. It made me feel somewhat inadequate.'

Doyle watched as Wesley recalled the moment. He stretched out and laid a hand on the man's shoulder, telling himself that he was just comforting the Englishman. And he was comforting him. This was not about a need to touch those broad shoulders.

No.

He caught himself and smiled grimly. Thinking poetic, that was a sure sign he was losing his mind.

'She's going to try and finish her education, go back to University.'

'That's good, right?'

Wesley sighed.

'It's very good, except...'

He shrugged and looked up at Doyle.

'Except she feels she would be unfair to both of us if we remained an item.'

Doyle looked at him.

'You think there's someone else?'

Wesley shook his head.

'I just felt rather in the way. And when she said how hot Angel and Spike sounded, I said fine, see you around.'

He closed his eyes.

'And I told her I loved her.'

Doyle was confused.

'After she said all that?'

'Oh no,' said Wesley, shaking his head again, 'before. I told her I loved her and she didn't say anything.'

He smiled sadly at Doyle.

'Should have known then, I suppose.'

Doyle nodded and then snorted, as something occurred to him.

'What is it?'

'I was just cursing my own luck. Seems like I've spread it to you!'

Wesley stretched out and yawned.

'Well you can have it all back, with pleasure.'

Doyle laughed.

'No thanks, man.'

He caught Wesley's yawning and stretched his arms out.

'So what do we do now?'

Wesley shrugged.

'I don't know. Maybe Cordelia will come around. She can't keep up the silent treatment forever.'

Doyle shot him a look.

'Okay, so maybe she can.'

Doyle picked up the bottles and took them back over to the kitchen, finding a bin he'd discovered the other day and dumping them in.

'You know what we should do, don't you?'

'What's that?'

Doyle grinned at him.

'You and me should get together and go over to Angel's for a foursome with him and Spike.'

Wesley stared a moment.

Then he felt the chuckle coming from low in his belly.

As he started laughing hard, Doyle joined in, moving back over to the couch. He sat down hard and put his feet back on the table, which promptly collapsed, spilling magazines everywhere.

'Oh shit.'

'Don't worry,' said Wesley and bent to pick them up.

Doyle took in the seriousness of the man's expression and caught his breath. For all his bumbling pomposity, Wesley was an attractive man. Not in an Angel floaty coat way, or a blatantly sexy Spike stance, but he had a deep quality that Doyle not only respected, but wanted.

If I do this now, he thought hazily, his mind tired from lack of sleep and worry, everything changes. There'll be no way back with Cordelia, no way of denying anything. I'll have to admit that I'm not the big straight guy I said I was.

Hell I did that ages ago.

Now I just have to deal with letting everyone else know.

'Wesley?'

Wesley turned with the magazines in his hand and saw Doyle looking at him. Oh Heavens, he thought, Irish bloody eyes are doing more than smiling! He felt his tongue flick out and coat his lips in anticipation, before he even registered what he was doing.

'What is it?'

Doyle stared for a moment and then stopped, looked down and laughed briefly.

'I must be bad at this.'

'At what?'

The Irishman squinted up at Wesley.

'There must be some way that Angel and Spike sort this out.'

'Sort what out?' insisted Wesley.

Doyle swallowed hard and met the Englishman's inquisitive gaze.

'Who begins a kiss?'

Wesley looked down at the magazines before putting them down and taking his glasses off.

'I suppose it comes down to just...'

He moved in closer, before tracing his fingers over Doyle's worried forehead. The Irishman reached up to cover his hand and then, almost before they knew it, Wesley's mouth was pressing insistently against his own, the taller man's arms wrapping warmly round his back. Doyle's tongue found its way inside Wesley's mouth and he suckled on it, wondering at how different a man could taste.

The last time they'd done this, he had been drunk and Wesley tried to remember if Doyle had tasted so coarse. It was so different than kissing Megan, so much...warmer somehow. Doyle gave of testosterone in huge waves, his sweat seeming to sear into every sense Wesley owned. As the hands crept up his back, the demon-hunter almost laughed to himself at the picture they must have made. But he was as far from laughing as he could be, so involved was he in kissing the sensual creature in his arms.

When they paused a little, to catch their breath, Doyle smiled as he breathed hard, aware that he'd enjoyed that more than he had kissing Cordelia. Wasn't life strange?

'Well I guess that works then.'

'Yes,' breathed Wesley. 'Well, we know what to do next time, then.'

'Oh,' grinned Doyle, his hand still holding Wesley's neck. 'You think there's going to be a next time?'

Wesley moved as if to pull away.

'Hold it,' said Doyle, 'There's going to be a next time, Wes. I was just joking with you.'

Wesley smiled and touched the wet lip that begged to be kissed.

'I think another kiss could be arranged.'

He moved in to kiss Doyle again when Doyle felt it start to happen.

'Oh shit, no...not now.'

'Doyle?'

Doyle shuddered as the vision hit him hard, images swimming through his head. The woman screaming, terrified, running from the...he couldn't see, she didn't know. Oh God but his head hurt. As the last of it ebbed away, he panted hard, collapsing into Wesley's arms, hearing the Englishman say his name soothingly, smooth hands stroking his forehead.

'Are you all right now?'

Doyle shuddered, but managed to nod.

'I'm fine, but...'

'What?' asked Wesley. 'What did you see?'

He looked up at him.

'She's in trouble?'

Wesley looked at him, confused.

'Who is?'

Doyle closed his eyes.

'Cordelia.'
 

*
 

The phone was ringing.

Angel struggled to open his eyes. He didn't tend to sleep a lot, partly because he didn't need to, mostly because Spike had much more entertaining alternatives, but he'd not managed to catch any downtime since his lover had left to search for Cribb in the tunnels, and Angel was exhausted. He was half amused to see that Spike had once again slid further down the bed, stretching out and resting an arm and a leg over his own. He could never get him to share a pillow, which Spike had teased was due to Angel's hair fetish, but the older vampire had come to regard this possessive sleeping pattern as cute, something that would annoy the hell out of the cocky vampire if he knew.

Besides being cute, it was very constricting. The phone was on Spike's side of the bed, and despite its loud ring, the blond didn't seem to hear it at all. With a groan, Angel extricated himself from Spike's grasp and leaned over to pick it up. As he snatched it into his hands and lay back on his pillow, Angel wondered if he'd have more fun with a phone wire, wrapping it round Spike's wrists as he slept. That was a good plan for the future, but for now, Angel would have to settle for the sleek black cordless, the one with 'mine' scrawled on the back in silver pen - Spike had taken it quite literally when Angel had told him to mark his property. How he was going to remove the lettering on the bath tiles, Angel wasn't quite sure.

'Hello?'

'Angel?' Came the worried reply. 'Is that you?'

Angel shifted and rolled onto his side, identifying Wesley easily. Spike rolled over and wrapped himself back round the older vampire, his head pressing against the crook of Angel's shoulder blades.

'Yeah, Wesley, it's me. What's up?'

He heard the sigh down the phone and wondered how serious the problem was. There was something else, despite the crackling line, something that sounded vaguely familiar.

'Is Doyle with you?'

'Yes,' said Wesley, 'I'm afraid he's had a vision.'

'What was it?' asked Angel immediately. Spike was snuggling up against his side, shifting in a way that wasn't quite innocent. He's awake, the vampire realised, he's been awake all along.

'He thinks Cordelia's in trouble.'

Angel frowned.

'Have you tried to phone her?'

He could almost hear the ex-Watcher nodding.

'Yes, and she said she was quite all right.'

Angel bit his lip lightly, thinking. Spike was kissing the space between his shoulders, flicking his tongue out and wetting the skin, then blowing on it. The sensations were giving Angel great difficulty in concentrating on anything.

'Did you tell her about the vision?'

'No,' said Wesley, 'I didn't think it fair to alarm her.' He paused a second. 'To be truthful, she was quite hostile towards me.'

'Why?' asked Angel and the second the word fell from his mouth he wanted to take it back. 'Oh, because of...'

'Yes,' said Wesley, 'Quite.'

He wasn't sure, but Angel thought that the man didn't sound as upset as he might have expected. In fact, he sounded quite upbeat, which was in itself unusual.

'You okay, Wesley?'

'Hmmm? Oh, I'm fine, a little worried about this vision, but unless we can find out more, I don't see what we can do yet.'

Angel nodded, feeling Spike pressing against his back, his cock growing harder as it rubbed against Angel's skin. All he had to do was move a little, but Angel was determined to hold out until the end of the conversation. And that was going to be hard enough - Wesley didn't seem particularly keen to share.

'So, this vision - Cordelia was in danger. Didn't say from what?'

'Well, I rather gather...' He trailed off and Angel wondered for a moment if he was still there.

'Wesley?'

There was a pause and then, 'Hmm, yes, I'm still here.'

'What happened?' asked the vampire, aware that the erection teasing against his ass was a firm throbbing mass with a definite purpose. Get on with it Wesley!

'Nothing,' said the Englishman. 'Doyle just came back in, is all.'

'I thought you said he was there with you?'

Wesley seemed to pause again.

'Yes, but he, ah. Well you know he likes to shower after these visions. Now, about Cordelia.'

He went on to describe a creature that could be stalking the girl, but Angel caught the admiring tone within Wesley's voice. Surely it wasn't toward Doyle? Angel knew that they'd had that kiss in the nightclub, but he'd gathered from Doyle's subsequent involvement with Cordelia, and Wesley's relationship with Megan, that they'd both chalked it up to experience and forgotten about it.

Spike had commented from time to time that Wesley still seemed to hold a torch for the Irishman, but Angel had put it down to Spike trying to get a rise from the man. It was difficult to tell sometimes whether or not his lover was joking, but from the tone in Wesley's voice, Angel was prepared to bet that the vampire was once again, on the money. Although, and he found his body pressing backwards eagerly, he wasn't in the mood to gamble.

'Okay then, Wesley, I'll meet you at Cordelia's in an hour.'

'Yes,' said the demon-hunter, 'I'll try and research the creature Doyle described.'

Spike hands started sliding up his chest, covering his nipples in wet fingernails, tweaking already hard nubs.

'I'll be there,' managed Angel. 'Bye.'

He slammed the phone down and rolled over, pinning the grinning vampire beneath his body, hard cock eagerly pressing against Spike's thigh. Spike didn't look upset at this turn of events. In fact, thought Angel with a growl, he looks thoroughly amused.

'Am I ever,' Angel began, 'going to finish a phone call without you getting me hard?'

Spike grinned at his sire and rubbed upwards, sensing the shudder Angel gave as his cock pressed against him.

'No.'

Angel looked at him a moment and then shrugged.

'Well I guess I should be relieved that you're honest.'

Spike raised an eyebrow.

'Can still lie with the best of them, Peaches.'

Angel got to his elbows, lips trembling within an inch of Spike's own.

'You are lying with the best of them, now why don't you tell me how much you want me?'

Spike laughed.

'Piss off!'

'Oh,' said Angel, 'Really affectionate, that. I suppose I should just...'

He rolled off and started to get out of the bed, ready for the hand that grabbed his thigh. Angel turned to look at Spike, and read the hungry expression even before he'd seen it. And although he matched it, Angel wasn't going to give in without a little fun.

'So are you going to tell me then?'

'Tell you what, Pet?' asked Spike. 'Tell you that I'm drooling over you as much as Weasly just was over the mutt?'

Angel paused.

'You heard that too?'

Spike rolled his eyes.

'Nah, just heard you talking.'

He seemed pleased with himself.

'Told you there was something going on, didn't I?'

Angel slid back under the blankets, leaning on his elbow and drawing his hand up Spike's side. When he reached his waist, the younger vampire chuckled and pushed Angel's fingers away.

'Yeah,' said Angel, 'you did say.'

Spike stretched out and gave Angel full access to his body.

'And you didn't believe me, Pet.'

He grinned and turned his head.

'You should listen to me more often. Spike knows best.'

Angel laughed.

'Oh really? Did you know I was going to do...this?'

He rolled quickly and pushed Spike onto his front, grabbing both wrists and holding them against Spike's ass. Angel pulled back a little, so that Spike's head wasn't buried in the pillow, but he didn't relax his grip.

'You bastard,' groaned Spike. 'And if that didn't say that your broody ass was up for something good, I'd have you flat out.'

'That a sex thing, or are you actually threatening to hurt me?'

'Could have you with one hand tied behind my back,' said Spike.

Angel grinned and released a wrist.

'Go for it,' he smiled.

Spike shook his head.

'Didn't say that you'd be holding that hand!'

'Can't do it, huh?'

Spike growled and moved quickly, ripping his hand out of Angel's grip and pushing the vampire over, strong thighs pressing against his own. He kept both hands behind his back and buried his mouth into the crook of Angel's neck, his fangs sinking into the flesh as the older vampire's laugh turned abruptly into a moan, and then a growling pleasure. Sticky blood seeped into his mouth and Spike savoured the taste for a second before pulling back, straddling Angel's thighs with his own, hands still firmly behind his back. Angel groaned at the loss of contact, his eyes opening to Spike's dirty grin.

'Couldn't do it, eh?'

Angel crossed his arms in front of him, still unsure how far they were going to take this. However it went, he didn't want to be accused of cheating, and as arms were clearly not necessary, he'd show this arrogant, devilish, disobedient...horny little whelp who was Boss.

Spike licked his fangs and grinned at his sire, well aware that Angel wouldn't back down.

'I could have you with my eyes closed.'

Angel raised an eyebrow.

'Nothing impressive about that,' said the older vampire, 'I've never known you rely on sight when smell could do the job.'

'True,' admitted Spike. 'But I was thinking about a little hunting match - you, me, blindfolded with both hands tied up.'

'Doing what,' grinned Angel, casting a lecherous glance over the cock which jutted out, pressed against his own.

Spike grinned and leaned forward, allowing himself to rub against Angel, the faint moan that slipped from his lover's lips stirring him on.

'You bloody know what, you old tart. Nah,' he went on, rocking easily against his sire, 'We should have a prize.'

Angel groaned and pushed upwards.

'I'll take this,' he murmured.

Spike laughed.

'Granted, Pet. But how about, the winner gets to give the loser a new tattoo?'

Angel immediately thought about the fading marks across his backside. It was always going to bear Spike's name, he knew that, but the redness had already gone, leaving a faint whiteness in its place. He'd been toying with the idea of letting Spike get the ink out anyway, but he wasn't entirely against laying another mark on his childe, this one done out of love, rather than a possessive brand.

He nodded up at Spike, lop-sided grin very much in evidence.

'You'd better get ready to start wearing a fallen angel then, Will.'

Spike growled and bent down to Angel's neck, licking at the seeping blood. He moved his mouth to Angel's ear, nipping at the lobe and whispering, 'That's kind of cheap, Love. I was thinking more of a British Bulldog, right there on that ass of yours.'

Angel laughed.

'A Bulldog? You're going to tattoo a bulldog on me?

Spike licked at his neck again, grazing a fang along the vein which didn't throb.

'Might add the whole bloody flag as well, Pet. Depends on how good you are when I win.'

Angel raised an eyebrow.

'And who says you're going to win?'

Spike grinned.

'Piece of cake.'

'Really.'

'Oh yeah, Pet. I can beat your arse any day.'

'Go for it,' said Angel, ready to get up, but Spike shook his head.

Hang on, Love. We'll do it, but we got a Bossy cow to sort out.'

Angel looked at him.

'You're throwing me off because of Cordelia?'

Spike grinned, and sat back up.

'Nah, but I'm not missing an opportunity to find out if Doyle and Weasly are getting it on.'

'You're possessed.'

Another grin.

'Maybe, but can you think of anyone else you wanna be possessed with?'

Angel thought about it for a second.

'Not this century.'

Spike bit down.

'Better not be the next either, Pet.'
 

*
 

'Was that Angel?' said Doyle, towelling his hair, jeans slung low round his waist.

'Hmm?' said Wesley looking up from the book. 'Oh, yes, it was.'

He looked at Doyle and swallowed hard, certain thoughts arising that he was as yet, unable to clarify. Wesley turned quickly back to his book, trying to find a match for the creature Doyle described.

'He seemed a little distracted,' said Wesley, 'I assume that he and Spike have made it up.'

Doyle sat down on the sofa next to Wesley, warmth spreading through his body as he noticed the Englishman's admiring gaze. He'd seen that expression before, even seen it directed at him, but this was the first time Doyle had ever realised exactly what it was.

God only knew what they were going to do about it, though.

'Well I knew they wouldn't be doing the separate bed thing for too long,' said Doyle, 'Can't usually separate them two with a big spatula.'

Wesley looked at him.

'And I suppose you've imagined that, have you?'

Doyle laughed.

'Well no, not really.'

He shrugged.

'Not until now anyway.'

Wesley smiled and ran his finger down the page, finding the last entry he'd been researching.

'I'm still not sure what it was you saw. I've been trying to find something that at least seems similar, but it's not all that easy.'

Wesley ran his fingers over a rather sweaty forehead.

'I know it's not exactly ideal, but it would help an awful lot if she'd actually been attacked. At least then we'd have a less blurred idea of what we're looking for.'

Doyle resisted the urge to touch that thin film of liquid, unsure if such an action would shake the ex-watcher more than he was already. After that kiss, (from which Doyle had emerged with a vision so painful that his erection had faded almost immediately) Wesley had moved from amorous lover to research man. It felt a little strange, considering how close they had just been, but this felt very new and Doyle was pretty sure that neither of them knew quite where this was going next.

With Cordelia, it had been easy. He knew exactly which aroused bits went where, and although they'd delayed it a few weeks, the sex had been easy to deal with. With Wesley...

Although he'd read about what men did together, and had talked about it from time to time in a vague way with friends he'd grown up with, Doyle wasn't sure how things went where, or who did what, or when. If Wesley hadn't taken the first move with that kiss...actually, he was pretty sure that he'd have managed to kiss him, whatever had happened. But now what?

Hmmm.

Doyle pulled out a T-shirt and put it on, figuring that he'd try and play this like he would with a girl - take things slow, go at Wesley's pace, see if he could get a fumble in here and there. Trouble was, and he watched Wesley turn the paper carefully, determined not to tear the page, he wasn't sure how fast Wesley's pace was. And Doyle was fairly sure that he'd lose the confidence to try this if he waited too long.

Fools rush in where angel's fear to tread.

Doyle grinned to himself. Technically, this was a place that Angel was more than happy inhabiting. Maybe he'd have to ask the man some tips. Maybe he should ask Spike.

Nada.

Now that *was* a bad idea.

Doyle didn't think he could cope with the knowing grin on the vampire's face when he asked for suggestions. He could imagine some of them now.

And not all of them were repellent.

'Doyle?'

'What?' asked the half-demon.

Wesley pointed to a picture in the book.

'Is this what you saw?'

Doyle looked at the sketches on the page and pulled a face.

'Yeah,' he said, 'That's the thing. It's gruesome.'

He saw the size of the entry and frowned in confusion.

'How come there's so many pictures?'

Wesley turned to look at him.

'Because it's an incubus.'

Doyle looked puzzled.

'One of them things that comes in the middle of the night and...does the wild thing?'

Wesley nodded.

'That's almost correct. There's several theories on what it might have been. Some texts suggest that both Incubus and Sucubus, that's the female version, were fallen angels.'

Doyle dropped a smile at that and Wesley let a little hmph of amusement slip out.

'Anyway, they form attachments to humans and appear during sleep to have sexual relations with their victims.'

Doyle shuddered.

'I'm taking it that he doesn't turn into some stud then?'

Wesley shook his head.

'No, I'm afraid this is his form.'

Doyle looked at the grotesque again.

'So how does he get her to have sex with him?'

Wesley ran his finger down the text.

'They only appear during REM, when the body is paralysed, unable to act out on dream experiences and therefore vulnerable. There have been cases where the victims have believed themselves to be subject to a particularly vicious nightmare.'

'And our boy's after Cordelia.'

Wesley caught the worried expression on Doyle's face and was bothered at how hurt it made him feel. He should have expected it really, Wesley thought sadly, it was hardly as though Doyle had made a conscious decision earlier. Cordelia had been hurt by his indiscretion and Doyle had once again turned to the Englishman as comfort.

Typical.

His bloody role in his bloody life was to take on everybody's bloody problem and...

'Wes?'

Wesley blinked and looked at the Irishman.

'I'm sorry, I wasn't listening.'

He tried a pleasant smile, but it felt false on his lips.

'What were you saying?'

Doyle grinned and moved his hand over Wesley's wrist, stroking his finger along the bone.

'Okay, let me see if I've got this right?'

He bent forward and licked along Wesley's bottom lip, a flush passing through him as he registered the man's surprise. Doyle slid his spare hand up to catch Wesley's neck, pulling him closer and feeling the Englishman's mouth open in welcome. Arms caught his back, holding him tightly, Wesley registering the kiss and responding passionately. Doyle felt the warm tongue slide in his mouth, catching it and suckling gently.

There was something innocent about this, a quality that Doyle hadn't felt since he was a teenager, long before he'd known he was half Brachen. It felt right, somehow more honest than catching a quick snog with Cordelia. And from the way Wesley was moaning, Doyle knew he wasn't the only one enjoying the sensation.

He broke away gently, keeping his arms round the Englishman.

'Was that okay?'

Wesley stared at him a second before laughing. He hugged the Irishman before sitting back, one hand possessively remaining over Doyle's.

'Yes,' Wesley said. 'That was...okay.'

Doyle winked at him.

'Just okay?'

Wesley grimaced and pretended to think.

'I'm not sure.'

He gave Doyle a small smile.

'Perhaps we should try it again, just to be certain?'
 

*
 

'I can't believe we're going to ask her to move in with us until this is over.'

'Well I'll ask for you.'

'What and have me sound like some bloody aggrieved kid? Not fucking likely, mate.'

He pitched his cigarette.

'Good job I've already got my invite to this place, can't see her making with the hostess thing at this hour.'

'If it makes you feel any better, Spike,' said Doyle, 'I don't think she's going to be laying out the welcome mat for me, either.'

Spike looked at the Irishman, smelling him, and all who sailed on him, he thought with a grin.

'Yeah,' Spike said, 'I bet she doesn't.'

Doyle flushed and before Spike could launch a back-up attack, Wesley produced a book with a grotesque creature book-marked and passed it to Spike.

'I take it you're here to help Miss Chase with this problem, Spike, not merely to aggravate the situation.'

Spike noted the protective stance and smirked to Angel - Spike scores on the money again.

'Cool it, lover-boy, just not keen on asking LMC to do me a favour.'

Angel squinted at him.

'What?'

Spike grinned.

'Little Miss Chatterbox.' He looked at Angel's still confused expression. 'You never read the Mr Men, did you?'

'Sure I did,' said Angel, 'Up there on my reading list between Hughes and Joyce.'

Spike shook his head.

'You're gonna have to lighten up one of these days, Pet. Read Hollywood bloody women or something.'

'Go easy on him,' said Doyle, ready to knock on the door, 'Let him work up to it. He could always start with "The Cat in The Hat".'

'You're only saying that cause Weasly here talks like him.'

Wesley rolled his eyes.

'Aside from a dislike of green eggs and ham, I have nothing in common with that character.'

Doyle knocked on the door.

'There's no such thing as green eggs,' said Angel in confusion.

Spike patted him on the back.

'Shh, quiet, Pet. You're shattering Doyle's beliefs.'

They could hear Cordelia groaning about not getting any sleep, her footsteps pounding on the floor.

'I know it is dark and the sun is not sunny,' murmured Wesley.

'But them two are vampires, and they like their blood runny,' grinned Doyle.

Spike raised an eyebrow at him and withdrew another cigarette.

'This chip here, not sure how it works on half breeds.'

Doyle didn't look at him, but the shiver that ran down his back confirmed what he'd always believed - he wasn't the only one who'd thought about his vulnerability to the vampire. He didn't know if it was better or worse that Spike hadn't tried anything yet. He had a feeling that the waiting might be worse.

Cordelia opened the door and stared at them all, hair mussed up and a very sleepy expression on her face. She didn't look as though she'd managed to drop off though.

'Great,' she said, 'A committee. I take it I should be worried?'

Wesley looked around and gestured inside.

'May we come in, please. I really don't think this is something you want to discuss within earshot.'

He gestured to her neighbours and Cordelia rolled her eyes. The last thing she needed was the people she lived next to thinking she was weird as well. With a sigh, she gestured them inside.

'This had better be something important,' she said, 'I was trying to sleep.'

'It's five in the morning,' said Angel, 'You're supposed to be at work by eight.'

Cordelia glared at him.

'I'm taking the day off. Excessive bad Angel behaviour.'

The vampire was immediately contrite and Spike squeezed his hand, before walking inside. He flicked his lighter, ready to set up his smoke.

'Not a bad pad here, Love,' he said, looking about, 'Could use a little less of the old...'

A breeze passed his face and blew the flame out.

'What the Hell was that?'

Cordelia rubbed her hands over her face.

'Phantom Dennis! Enough!'

She shook her head and looked at the others.

'Everytime I've managed to get my head down, he's done something.'

'Something?' asked Doyle. 'Not that blanket thing, again?'

Wesley shot a look at his flatmate, uncomfortable with his familiarity here. Part of him wanted Doyle to make a full confession to Cordelia right now. The other part, his better half, he tried to imagine, thought that silence was the better part of valour at the moment. Save the damsel, deal with the emotional repercussions later.

If there still were any.

Doyle turned to Wesley and smiled, brushing a fraction of the Englishman's fears aside.

One down, ninety nine to go.

'No,' said Cordelia, 'But he keeps turning things on - like the stereo, and the blender. He won't let me sleep.'

Wesley nodded.

'It may be that he's actually doing you a favour.'

He laid the book down on her table and she looked at the sketch.

'Eww! What's that?'

'It's an Incubus,' said Angel, 'We think you have one.'

She looked at him.

'Can you get cream for that?'

'An Incubus, Pet,' said Spike, trying and failing to light his cigarette, 'It's a demon that likes to have sex with women.'

Cordelia shot Doyle a look.

'That would be new.'

As the half-demon looked away, she turned her attention back to Spike.

'So I just say no, and that's it, right?'

Spike shook his head, grin firmly entrenched.

'Nah, that's not the way it works.'

He stepped closer to her.

'See, your Incubus only has sex with you when you're paralysed in dream state. And there's nothing you can do when that happens, Love. Just let him ride it out.'

She stared at him for a moment, mouth open, before turning to Angel.

'He's horrible. Why do you have sex with him?'

'Cause I'm not an Incubus,' said Spike. He sighed, 'Peaches here thinks that...'

'You should come and stay with us for a few days so we can protect you,' said Angel. 'I'm not sure if it will come with you, but at least we can stop it before it does anything.'

She looked them all, registering their various expressions of concern and sighed.

'I'm not moving out of here. I already have one Casper to deal with, I can handle a second.'

'An Incubus isn't a ghost, Cordelia,' said Wesley, 'It's much more capable than Dennis, and if it gets hold of you, it will hurt you.'

Cordelia flashed a quick look at Doyle.

'I guess all men are like that.'

Doyle shook his head.

'That's not fair, Princess, we're just here to try and help.'

'Oh really,' said Cordelia, 'What happened? You were licking your wounds when you figured this was a good way to talk to me again?'

Wesley shifted a little in embarrassment.

'Cordelia, this really isn't the time for this. Doyle had a vision, we came to help. That's really as far as it goes.'

He waited to see that she was listening.

'Now I'd suggest that you take Angel up on his offer. Incubi become very attached to their victims and very rarely leave willingly. Until we know how to get rid of it, you're going to need all the protection you can get.'

A large duffle bag floated into the room and to Cordelia's hand. She sighed, then picked it up.

'I'm walking out of my nice, warm apartment to move in with a couple of vampires,' she said. 'Isn't that a statement somewhere that I've hit rock bottom?'

Spike grinned.

'Nah Pet, that's when a spook gives you your marching orders.
 

*
 

'And why don't you have a mirror?'

Angel looked at her and she shrugged.

'You must know you have humans round sometime, why don't you get one?'

Spike looked up from the sofa.

'Because he has humans round, Pet. They tend to freak out a bit when we don't show up in a reflection.'

Angel nodded.

'If you want one, you can go get one, but I really think it can wait till morning.'

He gestured to the sofa.

'Why don't you try and get some sleep.'

Cordelia glared at Spike.

'I'm getting the sofa?'

Spike grinned and got up, passing the girl a couple of blankets.

'Now you wouldn't expect Peaches and I to sleep here, would you?'

'You're vampires,' said Cordelia, 'You're supposed to be able to sleep anywhere.'

'Can do,' said Spike, 'Don't want to.'

Angel looked at them both uncertainly.

'I don't know, Spike. Maybe we should...'

'Great,' said Cordelia, 'Thanks Angel!'

She tossed the blankets back at Spike and hurried into the bedroom, leaving the tall vampire to deal with the very annoyed shorter one.

'I think I liked it better when you were known for being laconic, Love.'

Angel scratched the side of his head.

'You think I did the wrong thing?'

Spike shrugged.

'Depends how much you like the floor.'

Angel dropped a grin.

'You mean you won't share?'

Spike looked at the narrow sofa and back up to his sire. You've changed, he thought, you worry less.

He grinned.

And that's definitely a good thing.

'You taking top or bottom?'

'What?' said Angel, wondering what his childe meant. 'I mean, what do you mean?'

'I mean,' said Spike, Are you gonna lie down and I get to lie on you, or am I lumbered with your hulking body all night?'

Angel let out 'ah', before nodding.

'I'll take the bottom.'

Spike grinned.

'And that answers my other question as well.'

Angel shook his head, amused, and picked up the flask full of salt. He headed towards their bedroom and knocked on the door, watching as Spike began stripping off his clothes. Now that was always a sight worth seeing.

'Yes?' said Cordelia, opening it a crack. 'What now?'

Angel gestured to the salt.

'I really think we should make a circle round your bed. It should help ward off evil spirits.'

She looked at it and then back up at Angel.

'The only evil in this house is taking his clothes off in your...Oh God, Spike. Not the pants, yet!'

Angel didn't dare look back, knowing that he wouldn't be able to concentrate at all when his lover was naked.

'Anyway,' he said, 'You should leave the door open, so you can call out if...something happens.'

'And listen to you two going at it all night? No thanks,' said Cordelia. 'Aren't you supposed to have super hearing or something?'

'Yeah,' said Spike. 'Only Angel snores so loud you can't hear anything above that racket.'

Angel blinked at shrugged at Cordelia.

'You can keep it open, we'll be good, I promise.'

'I'm not bloody promising!'

Cordelia took the salt and backed into the room.

'The door's staying closed. If you want to come and do this little ritual, do it now, cause I'm so tired, the bags under my eyes have bags.'

He smiled nervously at her and walked inside the bedroom, performing the short spell that would act as a ward. As he turned to leave, Angel lay a hand on her arm.

'If you need anything...'

'She bloody won't, now get your arse over here, Peaches!'

Angel shrugged an apology and Cordelia closed the door firmly. He turned to see Spike, stripped completely, a blanket draped over his thighs.

'You're a rude man, Spike.'

The younger vampire shrugged.

'Yeah, I'm a terrible influence on you. Can we get some sleep now?'

Angel started to pull his sweater off.

'We should stay awake and make sure she's okay.'

'Yeah,' said Spike. 'Sooner we deal with that thing, the sooner I get my bed back.'

'Your bed?' said Angel. 'You haven't got your name on that too?'

Spike winked at him.

'Third slat up from the bottom.'

Angel shook his head and laughed as Spike stood up, letting the blanket fall away and allowing Angel to lie down on the sofa.

'I wonder if Doyle and Wesley have been able to come up with anything?'

Spike shrugged.

'Shouldn't have thought so, Pet. The only thing they'll come up with is...'

Angel stopped him talking with a kiss.

'Sh, remember - Cordelia.'

'Ah, she'll find out,' said Spike, 'Them two are sending out pheromones like nobody's business.'

'Yeah,' said Angel, 'But I think it should come from them, not you.'

Spike thought for a second and then kissed Angel's mouth, sucking lightly on his bottom lip.

'Yeah, okay. I'll keep schtum for the while.'

Angel smiled.

'Thanks.'

He walked into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge, bemused to see a couple of bottle of nail varnish and an eye mask next to the bags of blood. Angel shrugged, picked up a couple of the sacks and emptied them into the mugs, warming them in the microwave. Spike followed him in, his jeans slung back round narrow hips.

'Shouldn't you say something to them?' asked Angel.

'Who?'

'Wesley and Doyle,' said Angel quietly, 'Isn't Wesley supposed to be dating your...er...Megan?'

Spike laughed dryly.

'Yeah, my er-Megan. I dunno. Not my problem.'

Angel set the mugs on the table and looked at his lover.

'It really doesn't bother you, does it?'

'Why should it?' asked Spike. 'I'm a vampire, we're hardly family people.'

Angel raised an eyebrow at him and Spike relented.

'Well, not human people anyway.'

'So...what? If you had that chip out of your head, you'd feed from her?'

Spike shrugged and took a sip of O-positive, wondering what Angel was getting at.

'You asking if I'd give up the neck for this the whole time?'

Angel nodded slowly.

'Just wondering. After that Reb...actress thing.'

Spike watched his sire for a moment, playing idly with his cup. He swallowed briefly and looked at Angel.

'I love you,' he said simply.

Angel registered the words, aware that Spike had never said it before, not without it being a joke, or a put down or something else. But this was pure, simple and direct, a bolt of lightning within his kitchen. He'd known how Spike felt, aware in his every nerve that the younger vampire loved him. They'd done too much, seen too much for it to be any other way. And despite everything, they stayed together, two crippled halves of a whole.

He thought he understood why Spike had said it though. The reasons why Spike had done anything, and, for that matter, why he had acted the way he did, were complex in many ways. But it all boiled down to that phrase, and all the implications it gave. He hadn't killed Rebecca because he loved Angel. He hadn't allowed Angelus to take him as favourite childe once more because he loved Angel. He was sitting in the kitchen wearing pants because he loved Angel.

The sky is up, the Earth is down and Spike loves me.

Angel smiled.

I can live with that.

He looked back at the English vampire, watching as his hands curled possessively round his mug and lifted it to his lips.

'I love you too, Will.'

Spike snorted.

'Yeah, I know.' He grinned wickedly at his lover. 'Just making sure you knew.'

Angel slurped down the rest of his drink.

'Yeah, always knew you were a romantic, Spike.'

Spike finished his blood and took it to the sink, washing it out.

'Yeah, bloody Mills and Boon, me.'

'No,' said Angel, 'They don't let you have sex before page 75.'

Spike chuckled.

'I knew you read crap sometimes.'

'Yeah,' said Angel, 'Just don't let Cordelia know who's got her copy of Cosmo.'

'Lifestyle section?'

'Something like that,' admitted Angel. 'There's four pages dedicated to giving better oral sex.'

'Any good?'

'Not sure,' said Angel. 'Feel like practising?'

Apparently he did.
 

*
 

Fingers crept slowly up soft skin, sensing its texture and moving over every spare inch.

Possessively, as though to move away was to admit defeat, one body covered the other, stretching out to touch, to feel...to own. And as they joined, the room seemed to spin, everything brought down to this one movement, a connection so firm every thrust was an affirmation.

You're mine.

'God No! No!'

Angel leapt up off the sofa before his eyes opened, Spike slipping from his grasp and falling onto the floor. As the cry increased, he ran to the bedroom door, a very disgruntled vampire close behind him.

Through the early morning hours, the two vampires had spent time making love, talking and feeding, the knowledge that Cordelia slept in their bedroom becoming less important. Spike had been very keen on discussing the relatively new topic of Doyle and Wesley, Angel reminding him to quieten, lest they wake the girl. Several swift finger gestures had followed such a statement and Angel had reluctantly agreed to talk about their companions.

'He's always had a thing for men,' said Spike. 'You should have known that, the way he smells about you.'

Angel looked confused.

'Doyle? You think he's always been gay?'

Spike shrugged.

'Nah, wouldn't put it like that exactly, sends off the same stuff around tarts, but I'd say he had a yen for blokes and birds.'

He nodded at Angel.

'Bit like us, really.'

Angel shrugged.

'It's not the same though, is it?'

'Shagging a bird?' said Spike, 'Nah, you got different bits to mess about with.'

Angel raised an eyebrow.

'That's not what I meant.'

Spike leaned back on the chair, very much aware that Angel loved seeing him bare chested, and grinned at his lover.

'Go on then, Pet. Tell me all.'

Angel frowned and tried to explain himself.

'Well, to you and me, sex isn't important.'

Spike shot him a look.

'Yeah, chaste as nuns, us.'

'Very funny,' said Angel, 'You know what I mean - you could be a woman and I'd still want you.'

Spike's grin widened.

'You telling me you got a thing for Megan?'

Angel sat back, a horrified look crossing his face.

'God, no.'

Spike nodded.

'Really, well everyone keeps telling me she's me as a bird, so how come your tongue's never fallen out of your mouth around her?'

Angel looked at his childe, wondering why he was being so obstinate. Then he cursed himself for even thinking such a dumb question. Spike would argue black was white just for the fun of seeing you squirm. Did he really want to be drawn into that kind of an argument?

'Because she doesn't have your ass,' he admitted.

Spike grinned.

'Yeah, so much for wanting me as a woman, Pet. Nice try there on the whole 'I love you for your personality' crap.'

'I don't just love you for your personality,' said Angel.

'Oh I'm hurt,' said Spike, 'It's just my ass then?'

'No,' said Angel, wondering why he didn't just let this drop, 'It's because of more than that.'

Spike stretched up and winked at his sire.

'Wanna show me what else you love, then?'

Several love bites, a quick shower and some seriously good sex later, the boys returned to the living room. Angel leant back on the sofa, Spike sitting on the floor, drinking beer and wearing nothing more than satisfied grin.

'So,' said Spike, 'What about Weasly?'

Angel adjusted the blanket over his naked torso. Unlike Spike, he was slightly bothered by the idea of Cordelia coming in the room and catching them. The least he could do was cover his naked body with the woollen blanket - Spike had refused to let him put anything else on. Even so, the damn thing itched against his skin.

'You really shouldn't call him that,' said Angel. 'It's not nice.'

'I'm so bothered,' said Spike flatly, before picking up his smokes. 'He Bi as well, then?'

Angel looked up at the bedroom door, grateful that Cordelia had insisted on keeping it shut.

'Do you even know what discretion is, Spike?'

Spike lit the cigarette and nodded.

'Yeah, it's what keeps people from bragging about a good shag.'

Angel closed his eyes at Spike's bluntness.

'Diplomacy was never your strong suit, was it?'

'No,' said Spike, running a finger down Angel's chest and sliding it under the blanket. 'I've always been better at hands on stuff.'

'Yeah,' said Angel, unwilling to stop the hand that crept down to his already stiffening erection. 'I know you are.'

'So, Weasly?' said Spike, using the tips of his fingers to brush through Angel's curls.

'What about him?'

Spike grinned at Angel's attempt at nonchalance. How the vampire thought he could keep a straight face whilst Spike was working his dirty magic was beyond him. Hadn't he learnt his lesson from that dinner party?

'Does he swing both ways, or is one side a fake?'

'I don't know,' managed Angel. 'I've always been under the impression that he was trying to be the son his father wanted.'

Spike started etching a figure eight around Angel's balls, careful never to apply pressure. He could see that his sire was struggling not to react, but the slow pulse that throbbed near Spike's fingers betrayed that. Angel was as horny as Hell, and trying to pretend he wasn't.

'You reckon he shagged because Daddy said so?'

Angel felt his hips want to thrust up into Spike's hand and bit down hard on his lip. He didn't know how Spike could carry on a conversation in such a reasonable voice when he was a hair's breadth from stroking Angel's cock. And, (Angel looked down to confirm this) how could he be so unconcerned about Cordelia coming in when Spike's erection looked ready to erupt?

'I don't know,' said Angel, 'Maybe he felt he'd be letting his father down if he admitted he liked men?'

'Hmm,' said Spike, crooking his fingers and rubbing the knuckles between Angel's balls and ass, pleased with the way his sire parted his thighs, allowing him easier access. 'That arsehole's dead though.'

'He is?' asked Angel. 'You know more about him than I...oh yeah, just there...do.'

'Chatty little bugger when he gets going,' said Spike.

He withdrew his hand, much to Angel's dismay and slipped his fingers into Angel's mouth, coating them with the vampire's saliva. Angel sucked on them briefly, wondering what Spike was up to. He quickly drew in a breath he didn't need as Spike's hand crept back beneath the blanket and against his ass. The slick finger teased the puckered opening briefly before sliding inside, Angel's arousal relaxing the muscles in his ass. Angel groaned, all pretence at conversation past, concentrating on the finger that slid against the sensitive gland in his ass.

'Oh shit,' he murmured, 'Will...'

'Shh,' said Spike with a grin, a second finger sliding against the first, 'Cordelia's just next door, you don't want to wake her, do you, Love?'

Astounded at Spike's uncharacteristic and mocking worry, Angel moved to sit up, but Spike was already there, one hand on his chest, holding him down, the other slipped from his ass to grab the bottle he'd brought in from the kitchen.

'Chocolate syrup?'

Spike grinned.

'Call me sentimental, Love.'

Angel chuckled.

'I'm calling you crazy if you think I'm going to get that all over the sofa.'

Spike pushed his tongue against his lower lip and paused a minute, the idea of filling his lover with sticky chocolate and cum suggesting things that his cock was beating a rhythm to. But it really wasn't worth the hassle if Angel was going to wince at the mess they'd make.

Maybe when Cordelia had gone.

Maybe he could suggest it to Doyle and Weasly.

He chuckled and Angel looked at him in amazement.

'What?'

Spike tossed the syrup over the back of the sofa and grinned.

'All right, Pet. What works as slippy stuff when you've got company?'

Angel raised an eyebrow at him.

'Slippy stuff?'

Spike stood up, his erection on eye level with the other vampire.

'The L word doesn't work for me. Makes my dick go floppy.'

Angel looked at the object in question.

Yum.

'Well we couldn't have that,' said Angel quickly. He looked round the room and found his eyes lighting on Cordelia's purse. Normally he wouldn't even consider using someone else's property, at least not for sex, but he didn't think he'd last much longer without feeling that cock imbedded deep inside of him.

He reached over and pulled the purse into his lap, careful not to bang against his own hard length. Angel never understood why women were so capable and organised elsewhere, but kept their purses in such disarray. There were a couple of tissues in the lining, the contents of which he could smell and Angel wondered absently if it was Doyle. At last, after finding enough make-up to cover the whole of Spike's body - oh now there was a thought, Angel pulled out a small pot, passing it to Spike with a grin.

Spike looked at the lip balm and smirked.

'And I thought you were such a nice bloke.'

'Yeah,' said Angel, need now of the essence.

'For a vampire, that is,' added Spike.

Angel reached up and pulled his childe down on top of him, thrusting his hips up in what he hoped was a convincing argument.

'I'm done talking,' Angel deadpanned.

Spike squirmed above him, rubbing his foreskin against Angel's hip.

'Feeling athletic, Pet?'

'Why?' asked Angel, before remembering that he had sworn to be done with the talking thing. Still, Spike wouldn't ask unless he had something....tricky in mind.

You're not asking about that "both at the same time" thing again...'

'No.'

'...Because I nearly put my back out doing that. And you moved.'

Spike raised an eyebrow at him.

'That's supposed to be the idea, Pet.'

'Not the way you were moving.'

Spike rolled his eyes.

'All this yammering's making me lose it.'

'I don't yammer,' said Angel, indignantly. 'I'm known for not yammering.'

Spike bucked forward, pleased that the vampire moved instinctively against him.

'Think we'd better use that lip balm, eh, Love?'

Angel scrabbled to open the pot, scooping out a load of strawberry smelling gunk and slathering it over the hard cock which was still nestled against his belly. Spike groaned as he felt Angel's hand sliding up and down his erection, coating it with enough gunk to make slipping into Angel's tight ass easy. Spike moved over his lover purposely, catching Angel's parted lips with his tongue.

'You're bad,' whispered Angel.

Spike dipped his tongue inside before urging Angel's legs up.

'You know it, I know it, every bugger knows it. But you know what, Love?'

Angel lifted his long legs and moved them above Spike's shoulders, his hips bucking backwards, feeling the slippery tip of Spike's cock pressing against him.

'Tell me.'

Spike wiggled his hips, watching as his cock pressed against Angel's ass, the flesh parting as his erection demanded. Angel groaned as his ass was stretched, fitting over his lover's erection snugly, the younger vampire becoming a part of him once more. He could feel the warmth of the lip balm, easing Spike's movements, smelt the cum which leaked from his own cock. He knew Spike was watching himself fuck, knew that the vampire was something of a voyeur, and it only served to make Angel more aroused. He grabbed his cock in his still slick hand and started sliding his fingers up and over the head, its sensitivity seemingly at boiling point. God it felt good. He looked up at Spike.

'Tell me.'

Spike grinned and pushed forward, his balls hitting Angel's ass as he sank deep.

'I only wear the white hat with you.'

Angel groaned deeply and threw his head back, straining his body against the sofa. Spike's hand clapped over his mouth and he realised quickly that Spike didn't want Cordelia to walk in on them. He nodded in understanding and the hand fell away, only to cover Angel's now balm slicked cock and link fingers with his own. As both their hands formed a tunnel, Angel pushed up into it, the rhythm matching the pummelling his ass was taking, Spike slipping in and out as Angel's ass relaxed.

The older vampire knew that he wasn't going to be able to hold out for much longer, and that he had grown too used to making a noise when he did so. Angel slammed his own hand up to his mouth, fangs appearing and sinking into the plump flesh between his thumb and forefinger. Coppery blood flowed into his mouth he felt Spike pick up the pace, no longer watching his cock slide inside his sire. Spike's head was thrown back, baring a neck that Angel longed to sink his teeth into.

Gymnastics, Spike had practically said, are you feeling athletic? Was this show of submission a challenge for the older vampire? Bite me if you can? Angel didn't particularly care, but he could feel the familiar throb coming, and he wanted to be drinking Spike's blood as he did it.

Reaching up, Angel slid his legs down and pulled Spike closer, vamped out yellow eyes blazing at him. Spike saw the desire etched clearly on his sire's demonic face and tilted his head, beating Angel to the post and biting him first. Angel moaned as he felt the skin tear, Spike sucking at his blood as though it would give him nourishment. His blood may be dead, but this act was as primal in its need and wanting as the hips that moved against him.

With a deep trembling that seemed to come from a place deep within his body, Spike came, spilling deep in Angel's ass, the blood of his sire trickling down his throat. Angel writhed beneath him and the splatter across his belly and chest didn't really hit Spike till afterwards. He was too focussed the fangs imbedded in his shoulder, draining and being drained. My own private haven, Spike thought, and the pouf's mine.

Growling, Angel pulled away, demonic visage stained with Spike's blood. He felt the fangs in his neck recede, Spike's climax driving away the vampire need, and Angel felt renewed, refreshed and ready to deal with anything. Spike pulled back a little, his cock still hard, but fading slowly. He grinned at Angel and touched his forehead to Angel's own, feeling very close to the older vampire, in mind as well as body.

Which was when they heard Cordelia scream.

Angel pushed open the bedroom door with enough force to crack the wood. Cordelia was sitting bolt upright in bed, panting hard and sweat dripping down her face. A look of absolute horror was plastered across her face and although she was staring in Angel's direction, he could have sworn that she didn't see him at all.

'Cordelia?' he asked, looking around the room for the source of her horror. 'Are you okay?'

'Get him away!' she yelled, 'Get him away!'

Spike pushed past Angel and walked over to the bed laying one hand on Cordelia's arm.

She barely flinched.

'Nightmare,' said Spike. 'She's having a bloody dream.'

Angel approached cautiously, still listening out for anything. Something seemed to echo on the edge of his hearing, but he couldn't pin it down. He had to deal with the more pressing issue of the freaked out girl in his bed. She was definitely asleep, but Angel couldn't remember whether you were allowed to wake someone from a nightmare - didn't it do damage, or was that sleepwalking?

'Oy, Blabbermouth, wake up, you're screaming the place down!'

Well Spike didn't seem to care.

Cordelia whimpered and tried to curl up, trying to make her body as small as possible.

'Get him away,' she sobbed.

Angel looked at Spike.

'We're going to have to wake her up.'

'You get your filthy vampire hands off her!'

Spike and Angel turned to the door, where the noise Angel had heard earlier revealed itself to be the footfalls of an angry young man. One who happened to be carrying a big cross and what looked to be half an egg and cress sandwich.

'Xander?' said Angel. 'What are you doing here?'

'Arriving in the nick of time,' said Xander, holding the cross out and walking towards the bed. 'I don't know what vampire sex games you've been up to with Cordelia, but it stops now!'

He held the crucifix at arms length and walked past Spike as the vampire raised an eyebrow at him and stepped back. Angel shook his head at the boy.

'Xander, it's not what you think.'

'Oh no?' said Xander, sitting on the bed and wrapping the blanket awkwardly round Cordelia. 'What else do you do when you're naked and got a helpless girl...a Cordelia in the room, huh?'

Angel registered his nakedness and reached for the robe hung on the back of the door. As he struggled into it, Spike chuckled to himself and grabbed a pair of boxers out of the drawer, wiping off the stickiness on his belly and tossing the pants casually into the laundry bag.

'Honestly, Xander, we haven't been doing anything with Cordelia.'

'Oh yeah?' said Xander, vaguely registering that she was asleep. 'So how come she's in your bed, you bad, bad man?'

'Incubus,' said Spike, trying to choose between a pair of black silk boxers and (surprise!) black cotton boxers.

'What bus?' said Xander.

'Doyle had a vision that an Incubus was preying on Cordelia,' said Angel, 'It's a type of demon that...'

'Has sex with you when you sleep,' said Xander, 'Yeah, I know what they are.'

'You read?' said Spike dryly, settling for the cotton pair.

'Yeah I read,' said Xander, 'It was about the only demon I ever wanted to meet.'

'Still no luck with shagging, eh, Pet?'

'I've shagged lots,' said Xander, 'I'm a shag magnet. And don't try and change the subject. You've still not explained why Cordelia's in your bed.'

'So we could protect her from the demon,' said Angel, aware that cum was sliding slowly down his belly and attempting to glue his robe to his skin.

'Oh,' said Xander, 'Okay, that explains that. Doesn't explain why you two were naked, though.'

'We ran in,' said Spike with a grin.

'Ran in from where? A late night naturist club?'

'From the living room,' said Spike. 'Peaches and I were getting fruity on the sofa.'

'Okay,' said Xander, holding his hand up, 'I really did not want to know that.'

He stared at the vampires.

'And why am I always here when you have sex?'

Spike smirked and picked up his cigarettes from the bedside table.

'You want to join in?' he suggested.

Xander shot him a look and then turned back to Cordelia, who was finally waking up

'Xander?' she asked quietly, 'Is that you?'

'Yeah, Cordy, it's me,' said Xander, 'You okay?'

She shivered, appreciating the warmth of her ex boyfriend's hug.

'Yeah, I think so.'

Angel moved forward, his mind searching back to the problem at hand.

'The Incubus, was he here?'

Cordelia shook her head, before registering that Xander was here.

'You're here,' she said pointedly, 'What are you doing here?'

'I'll tell you later,' said Xander, 'Let's just make sure you're okay, first.'

She nodded and looked up at Angel, confusion covering her face.

'There *was* something in here. There was something...'

She shook, and Xander hugged her again, sliding his hand up and down her arm, warming the girl and reassuring her in one move. Spike pulled out yet another secreted bottle of Whisky and passed it over, Cordelia gulping down as much as she could in one draught. As Xander comforted the girl, Angel gestured to his lover and they walked out of the room, pulling the door to. Spike lit up a smoke and regarded the worried vampire. Something wasn't right here, but they'd run straight in there as soon as she had started screaming. How could they fight something they couldn't see or smell?

'You know,' said Spike, inhaling the smoke. 'She could just be imagining the whole thing.'

Angel shook his head.

'Cordelia never said anything. Doyle's the one who told us about the Incubus.'

'Maybe he was wrong,' said Spike, 'Or maybe Weasly picked out the wrong thing.'

'I don't know,' said Angel, 'Visions come courtesy of the Powers that Be. They're not going to send one about Cordelia's nightmares. That's too petty.'

Spike raised his eyebrows.

'Yeah, the forces of good mucking people about. Like they'd even think about such a thing.'

Angel glared at him whilst Spike grinned.

'Angel?'

Xander had closed the door behind him, satisfied that the only danger Cordelia was in didn't come from the vampires before him. For the first time, Angel registered how sleepy the boy looked, a faint smell of salt across his skin. He hadn't been crying had he?

'Look, Dead boy,' he added, as though he'd forgotten the nickname and all the hostility that went behind it, 'I really don't feel okay about leaving her in there alone, so if it's okay with you guys, I'm gonna stay with her.'

'Sure,' said Angel at the same time as Spike gestured to the huge bag near the stairs.

'You planning to stay a while, Pet?'

Xander paused a second before nodding slowly.

'I've kind of left Sunnydale.'

Angel raised his eyebrows.

'You're kidding, right?'

Xander shook his head and Spike picked up the blanket Angel had been lying under and tossed it at the boy. He caught it, and lay his hand back on the door. Angel was still staring at him and nobody could look at you with that much intensity. Xander looked up.

'So, after you guys figure out what's the prob with Cordy, can I see you about the job thing?'

Spike chuckled, but Angel's expression didn't change.

'You're asking me to employ you?'

'Yeah.'

'After everything you've ever said about me, everything you've tried to do to try and kill me, or come between me and Buffy?'

Xander squirmed, uncomfortable under this scrutiny.

'Yeah.'

Angel nodded slowly and walked to the kitchen.

'Okay, then.'

'You're giving me a job,' said Xander in disbelief.

'Looks like it,' said Angel.

'Then why did you say all that?'

The vampire shot him a grin that went straight to Spike's groin.

'Because I can.'

The boy looked confused for a second, before ducking back inside the bedroom and shutting the door. Spike laughed loudly and kissed Angel hard on his cheek, pleased with his sire's decision.

'Nice one, Pet. We steal another one away from the Slayer and...'

'This isn't about Buffy,' said Angel opening the fridge and pulling out eggs.

'No?' said Spike, 'What's it about then?'

Angel heard the slight tone in Spike's voice, aware that the Slayer was still a touchy subject. He was hiding it well, which Angel took as a good sign. At least it meant that the younger vampire was more secure with his feelings, knowing that he came first, and that whilst Buffy was a big factor in Angel's past, that's precisely where she was going to stay.

'We're in the business of saving souls here, Spike.'

'Don't have one, don't care,' said the blond.

'Yeah,' said Angel, 'Well we could always use another hand around the place.'

Spike picked up the pan and passed it to his lover.

'Why do I get the feeling that young Xander's going to be cleaning the privys?'

Angel grinned again and cracked the eggs into the bowl.

'I think he's going to have to work up to that.'

Spike chuckled.

'Sometimes, Love, you're a devious old bugger.'

Angel took a fork and started working the mixture.

'Sometimes,' he agreed.

There was a clank and the vampires turned as the elevator started to descend. Angel took more eggs out of the box and added them in, before gesturing towards the bread.

'Better get the toast on, Spike, seems like there's going to be more for breakfast.'

Spike grumbled and put the bread under the grill.

'A bloody lackey for humans, I never thought I'd see the day.'

'Humans who can work out how to get Cordelia out of our bed, remember.'

Spike nodded.

'Well Weasly had better have come up with something good, then.'

'Let's hope so.'
 

*
 

'Have you got all the books?'

Doyle looked at Wesley over the top of a huge pile of tomes and although the watcher could only see the long lashed eyes, Doyle's sarcasm was unmistakable.

'Right, fine, all the books,' said Wesley and got into the elevator.

Doyle walked in behind him, trying to close the doors with his one remaining spare finger. As he strained, Wesley stepped in front of him and pulled the heavy iron doors across, before hitting he button that sent them down to Angel's apartment.

They'd spent the few hours that were left of the night trying to find some way of ridding Cordelia of the Incubus. They hadn't had an awful lot of luck, party because half the books claimed an Incubus was just the projection of a sleep disorder, mostly because of one another. Wesley had been trying his hardest to read the words in front of him, but his eyes blurred the text and the image of Doyle's half-smile kept blocking out anything else. It hadn't helped when he'd looked up, trying to see if Doyle was having the same problem, wondering if he was just getting in too deep again. Doyle had raised his head, desire written across his face and all attempts to read went out of the window as the kissing started again.

For Doyle, it was a relief to be able to admit to feelings he'd had for a long while. He'd seen men before, noticed their attractiveness and told himself that he was just being liberal, acknowledging someone else's handsome face. It hadn't actually crystallised into a desire until he'd met Wesley, and even that had come upon him slowly, the Englishman's gentle ways eventually proving irresistible. The idea of research had started to appeal to him, and it wasn't until now, with Wesley's arms wrapped round him, leaning on a pile of books, that he realised why. If he had his way, Doyle would be volunteering to look for clues every time.

The glasses had been tricky to deal with, as there was nothing particularly gentle about each kiss. They started out tender, lips gently teasing and suckling, but within minutes, both men had forgotten all about propriety and ached to taste more of the other. Wesley kept running his tongue over Doyle's lip, tasting it and storing the sense away for later consideration, whilst the Irishman ran his fingers up and down Wesley's neck, feeling the short strands of hair at the base, liking the way he leaned back into his hand. After being poked in the eye with a wire frame, Doyle had reached up and snatched the blasted things off, dumping them on the sofa and pulling Wesley in tighter. When, later on, they'd managed to get up off the floor, Doyle had made sure to hand the glasses back, wondering if Wesley would notice that one arm band was slightly bent.

Wondering if he'd care.

Standing in the elevator, those feelings still lingered, and neither man had kisses enough to sate their desire. And that was partly the point, wasn't it? For the moment, neither Doyle nor Wesley knew how to do anything other than kiss, unsure if they were ready for anything more than the mild caresses they'd given one another. It had got to the point where Doyle had pulled away, unwilling for Wesley to feel the erection that throbbed through his jeans. I want you, he'd wanted to say, but I don't know how to want you. Wesley had excused himself soon afterwards, closing the bathroom door and wondering what in Gods name he was gong to do about the thundering hard on he was sporting.

Nothing had been said to Cordelia, and whilst Doyle had assured him in action and word that it was over between them, she didn't know, and Doyle didn't seem in a hurry to tell her. Wesley knew why, or at least he thought he did - it was difficult enough to acknowledge that they were attracted to one another, to tell other people, especially the woman they'd both wanted at some point, was well nigh impossible. Plus, Wesley knew that Doyle didn't want Cordelia hurt, her bitchy persona covering for a well-rounded and easily wounded personality. Angelus' revelation that they had kissed was one thing, something that could perhaps, have been explained through alcohol, (true) and the atmosphere, (also true). There was a possibility that Cordelia and Doyle could have patched things up, something that Wesley still thought might happen.

However, all that seemed to be on hold until the Incubus was dealt with, and Wesley had brought all the relevant material over to the vampires' residence in the hope that he'd be able to concentrate better there. From the looks Doyle kept shooting him, it wasn't going to be that easy, and if Spike started up with his taunting, Wesley was unsure he'd be able to do anything but blush like the damn buffoon he felt.

As the elevator hit the basement, both men could hear the present residents talking in the kitchen. Doyle picked up on the extra voice before Wesley did, raising his eyebrows to the ex-Watcher as he realised Xander had joined them in LA. Wesley watched Doyle's face carefully for a sign of jealousy, but he could only see something he ascribed as relief crossing the Irishman's face. He hoped it wasn't just wishful thinking.

'So you're cooking now? I thought that you did blood in a bag these days?'

'Watch it,' came Spike's gruff voice. 'Can always work on Xander-ding instead.'

There was a short chuckle, and Xander's voice seemed to struggle to keep the laughter down.

'You can't lay a finger on me, Spike, my boy, how are you going to bundle me in the microwave.'

Wesley heard a growl and the laughter stopped. He could almost see the grin on Spike's face.

'Cause Peaches will do it for me.'

Doyle and Wesley stepped round the corner to see Angel casually pinning Xander to his seat with one hand, serving up toast to Cordelia with the other.

'And I thought domesticity was dead,' said Wesley dryly.

Spike looked up at the pair and sniffed lightly, catching the mixed pheromones they were emitting. To Wesley's surprise, he said nothing, but gestured to the remaining two chairs at the table.

'Let him go, Angel,' said Cordelia.

Angel shrugged and released his grip, Xander falling forward and rubbing his throat where the vampire had held him.

'I knew this soul crap was...crap.'

'Nah, he's got a soul, Pet.'

Spike winked at the boy.

'But he's got me as well. And I'm worth keeping.'

'It's good that you have that humility thing down as well,' said Xander.

Cordelia looked up to see Wesley and Doyle. Her face dropped a little, but she saw no reason why Xander had to know about her problems. And if Spike could just keep his mouth shut, maybe the whole issue would go away. She'd talk to Doyle later on and admit that she'd been a bit...judgmental about the whole thing. Then maybe they could sort something out.

Maybe she'd stop feeling like such a bitch.

'Hey Wesley, Doyle,' she said, 'You remember Xander, right?'

Wesley nodded and held his hand out, waiting for the boy to shake it.

'It's good to see you again,' he said, 'Trouble in Sunnydale?'

Xander shook the ex-Watcher's hand and looked a little uncomfortable.

'It's been kind of...weird lately. They're all with the college thing, and I'm kind of...not.'

'You grow up, life changes,' said Cordelia. 'Not exactly news.'

Xander leaned back in his chair, a slice of toast in his hand.

'Yeah, well I kind of thought we'd always be friends. And with this whole Riley thing, and the witch stuff...'

'Riley thing?' asked Angel looking interested.

Spike caught his lover's change of expression and decided to take over before the vampire could go all broody about his past life in Sunnydale. He gestured with a piece of particular sharp toast at the teenager.

'Initiative, right? Bastards who messed with my head.'

'Turned you into the pussy cat you are today,' said Doyle before he could help it, aware that Spike could change his benevolent manner at any time. The vampire merely raised an eyebrow at him.

'Yeah, made me change the bloody habit of a lifetime.'

'You're dead, Spike,' said Cordelia absently.

They all turned to look at her.

'It's true,' she said. 'At least he doesn't smell like it any more.'

Angel smiled at his childe, the scent of his own cum still lingering over the lean body.

'That's not what he smells of now,' he murmured.

'What was that, Angel?' asked Wesley. 'I didn't quite catch it.'

Spike gazed at him, wicked satisfaction written across his face.

'He said I smelt like you do, Pet.'

Wesley felt the red want to rise in his cheeks and took a sudden interest in his eggs. Not that he really had anything to be embarrassed about - he and Doyle hadn't actually done anything. Well, not together anyway. And he had washed himself down after he'd masturbated in the bathroom. Spike couldn't really tell anything, so why was he blushing?

Maybe it was because the image he'd held in his head whilst his slick fingers caressed his penis was of Doyle. That half-smile. The naked chest he'd glimpsed earlier. All that hair.

Oh yeah, Wesley knew why he had red cheeks.

Xander munched his way through his sixth piece of toast, wondering why Wesley was all bothered by Spike. The vampire hadn't lost his sarcasm along with his biting teeth, but that didn't explain why the ex-watcher was staring at his eggs as though they held the answer to Cordelia's problem.

Doyle noticed the boy watching Wesley and felt a flush of protectiveness come over him.

'So, Xander, you came to LA because you fell out with your mates?'

Xander looked up, as though he were noticing the half-demon for the first time. He'd believed that Doyle was involved with Cordelia - she'd more than hinted as such on their many phone calls. The twinge of jealousy he'd felt had been replaced by a warmth of knowing she was with someone who cared for her. They'd never been able to clarify what they had together, he and Cordelia, some of it was lust. Okay, almost all of it was lust, but they'd had their moments, quiet times when they'd neither been kissing nor fighting. If he closed his eyes he could remember one morning after a big Slayer fight, when they'd been too tired to do anything but lie next to one another, and he'd thought, 'This is what heaven's like'.

Now those moments didn't come too often.

'I wouldn't say we've fallen out, cause, you know, we're all...'

'Critically deprived of any kind of social standing?' asked Cordelia.

'The Scooby gang,' said Xander, glaring at her. 'And there's bad things to deal with. I'm needed there.'

Spike layered marmalade on a piece of toast, seemingly involved with task.

'You're needed there.'

'Yeah,' said Xander, defensively.

'And you're here as part of the Slayer's attack strategy - keep all idiots as far away as possible.'

'Hey,' said Xander, 'You can't hurt me you know.'

Angel looked up at the boy briefly and Xander cringed.

'Because your big mean boyfriend over there can.'

Cordelia rolled her eyes and lay her fork down on her plate.

'All this crap is making me lose my appetite.'

'Oh yes,' said Wesley, 'heaven help if you manage to eat more than four mouthfuls a day.'

She slapped his arm and gestured to Xander, who was reaching for pancakes.

'Not all of us are a whole garbage can on legs.'

'So that's why the Slayer keeps you around,' said Spike with a grin. 'After she kills them, you eat the poor sods.'

'Enough, okay,' said Xander. He put all the food down and looked at the other occupants of the table. 'You really want to know why I'm here?'

'Well, duh,' said Cordelia.

He nodded slowly and then sighed.

'They don't need me any more.'

'Well, duh,' said Spike, shutting up with a growl as Cordelia kicked his shin.

Xander carried on oblivious.

'Buffy's got Riley to kill the bad guys with. Willow's doing all her wicca thing with Tara.'

He shrugged.

'There's no place I can fit in anymore. So I decided to up sticks and come here.'

'Because you want to fit in?' asked Cordelia.

'Yeah.'

'In LA?'

Xander looked at her a minute, in confusion. She looked at the others and then back to Xander.

'I guess we take all freaks,' she said with a shrug.

'You want to be useful,' sad Angel carefully.

Xander nodded.

'I figured we didn't make that bad a team last time.'

'And you hadn't the moxie to think of anywhere else,' put in Spike.

Xander glared at him and then spread his hands.

'Idiot Jed strikes again, huh? I guess I'm no use here, either.'

Spike chuckled at Xander's dismal expression.

'You really are a wanker, Pet.'

'Gee, thanks,' said Xander. 'And when you're down and out I'll find a nice name for you too...Stinky.'

Spike laughed hard and Angel lay a hand on his childe, relaxing the vampire almost instantly.

'I offered you a job, Xander.'

'I know,' said the boy, 'And whilst I appreciate the offer, working for Billy Idol's psychotic twin just lost its appeal.'

'Oy!'

'And you can stay here until you find somewhere else,' said Angel.

Spike turned and glared at him.

'What are we? The bloody YMCA?'

Angel turned to his lover and met Spike's blazing eyes. Don't invite someone else in, Angel read, don't make it so we have no time alone. Let someone else take the blighter on. Saving poxy souls is one thing, taking Slayer rejects in is another bloody matter.

And Angel willed Spike to understand that this wasn't about that. It wasn't about taking anything away from the Slayer, it was about offering a hand to someone who could go either way. Without direction, there was always the possibility Xander could get himself in some serious trouble. And that didn't happen in Angel's town.

Ever.

Spike nodded and slowly turned back to the teenager.

'All right then, Pet. You're staying with us.'

He gestured to the sofa.

'And you'd better not snore.'
 

*
 

Cordelia yawned. She hadn't been sleeping well since this whole thing started, days ago. So far, Xander had spent one night in her room, watching over her whilst she slept. In matter of fact, she hadn't been able to sleep at all, and they'd talked well into the small hours, remembering things from childhood which were innocent, and events from their teenage years which weren't. She'd actually enjoyed herself, despite the fatigue, and was disappointed when the sun had come up and Xander had finally fallen asleep. The following night had been spent in Wesley's company, and they'd both spent the time looking embarrassed when she acknowledged she was awake, and a bored silence when she didn't.

Tonight, Doyle was taking his turn to watch over her, and Cordelia sensed that this was make or break time, when they'd have to face what had happened and deal with it. Not having slept in over forty eight hours, Cordelia had entered a kind of zone in which sleep was no longer part of her world, and , despite the headache that accompanied it, she'd reached some kind of clarity.

So what if Doyle had kissed Wesley. Didn't everyone explore their sexuality at some time? Even if it wasn't in such a physical way. Okay, so she had never given a thought to going down a different road - people don't elect gay prom Queens, but Doyle had told her it was before they'd dated, so technically, it was of the ago. She could deal with that, and although it might give her a major eww factor when dealing with the Englishman, Cordelia believed that she and Doyle could get past this.

Now all she had to do was tell him.

Outside Angel's bedroom, Wesley was reading yet another volume on Spiritual expulsion. The major problem they'd all had with finding a cure for the predicament, was that most of the researchers hadn't seen any bad side to being courted by an Incubus. Or rather, a succubus, since most of the authors in question were male. The Incubus was considered a minor difficulty, seeing as the sexual highs it brought were believed pleasurable. That it devoured sexual energy, (cue an eww from Queen C) seemed to be a minor side effect.

Wesley was once again staring at the book, waiting for inspiration to hit. To date he'd only found a vague idea of how to rid Cordelia of the demon, and that had comprised of befriending another spirit, a familiar in a 'loving relationship'. Angel had looked uncomfortable at the idea, and Spike had pointed out that Cordy was already having sex with one of these buggers, why bring a jealous second? It was a valid point, and if Wesley had been thinking about it, he might have come up with his idea sooner.

Doyle sat down in front of him, watching the intense gaze on his flatmate's face. Wesley trusted in things with a passion that Doyle didn't believe he was capable of. When this problem had arisen, the ex-watcher was certain that a solution could be found. After three days research, he was still studying the books, certain that the answer lay somewhere. Despite Spike's lascivious suggestion that they gave the Incubus someone else to play with, Wesley hadn't wavered, and Doyle was sure that if an answer existed, his lover would find it.

Whoah, wait a moment, Doyle thought. Did I just say lover? He looked at the frown lines etched across the Englishman's forehead, deep in concentration, trying to find a cure for Doyle's girlfriend. The half-demon guessed that Wesley must be jealous on some level, okay, he knew Wesley was jealous. How could he not be? Cordelia had been his lady fair up until she'd discovered that Doyle had shared smoochies with the man. He guessed, from the way she'd been acting around him, that she was willing to give them both another try, although she hadn't yet said anything specific.

Which might explain why Wesley had been wearing such a forlorn look as Doyle's watch approached.

Time to set the record straight.

'Hey Wes,' said Doyle, trying to catch his attention. 'Found anything yet?'

Wesley blinked, and looked up at Doyle.

'Not as yet,' he sighed, 'Unfortunately every article so far has been written by a scholar almost completely celibate.'

'As in the no sex variety?'

'Precisely,' said Wesley. 'They don't see any problem with the demon.'

'Ah,' said Doyle. Seeing that Wesley was about to read again, he leaned forward and lay a hand on the Englishman's knee.

'About me and Cordy...'

'No need to explain,' said Wesley, looking down, 'You have things to talk about. Every relationship has its ups and downs.'

Doyle blinked, registering that Wesley was preparing himself for another defeat.

'Ah for Gods sake man, would you just let go for a change?'

Wesley looked up into Doyle's sparky eyes.

He almost wished he didn't imagine them so often - when Doyle looked like this, he wasn't capable of rational thought.

'Doyle, you and Cordelia have to talk. I understand that. I wouldn't expect you to...'

'To what?' asked Doyle, getting a little angry. The man could take chivalry too far.

Wesley took a deep breath.

'To accept mistakes were made and move on.'

Doyle leaned back.

'Mistakes?'

'Yes,' said Wesley solemnly.

'Like you and me, you mean,' said Doyle.

Wesley paused, hurt flitting through his expression.

'If you believe it was a mistake.'

Doyle looked at the man, wondering how anyone who was so intelligent could be so dumb.

'Wes, man. Sometimes you just got to do what feels right, you know?'

Wesley nodded.

'I know.'

Doyle shook his head.

'I don't think you do.'

He leaned forward and touched Wesley's forehead, smoothing the frown lines out.

'This feels right to me.'

'My forehead?'

Doyle smiled and kissed him gently.

'Do I have to beat it into you?'

There was a flicker of a smile in the Englishman's expression.

'Can I take it you didn't mean my forehead?'

Doyle kissed him again and wrapped his hand round Wesley's neck.

'I'll take your forehead...and the rest of your sorry English ass with it.'

A definite smile this time and Doyle wondered, not for the first time, if Wesley actually realised he was an attractive man. He was all shades, shadows which only made sense when you took them all together. He wasn't like Cordelia, her presence easily and quickly announced. Wesley was more of an enigma, a puzzle to be carefully unwrapped and tasted.

And Doyle seriously wanted to taste.

'Go on,' said Wesley, 'Go talk to Cordelia.'

Doyle winced.

'Now that's something I'm not looking forward to.'

Wesley smiled again.

'It's your turn. You don't weasel out of it that easily.'

Doyle grinned, kissed Wesley on the cheek and got up, closing the bedroom door behind him. Wesley paused, took a deep breath and turned back to his book, unaware of the pair watching him from the recesses of the kitchen.

Spike took his hand of Xander's mouth and pulled the whelp into the hallway. The boy looked halfway between shocked and stunned, the difference between amounting to a dropped jaw and raised eyebrows.

'I didn't just see that, did I?' he asked the vampire.

'What? The mick and Weasly getting it on?'

'Yeah.'

'Nah,' said Spike, pulling out a light and patting his pockets for his smokes. 'Figment of your imagination.'

'Really?' said Xander, 'Cause I'm getting pretty worried about that if I can see them kissing with tongues.'

Spike grinned and located the cigarettes.

'Shock you did it?'

Xander nodded.

'Yeah, I mean, okay I can believe Wesley. There's all that strict boys only school thing, but Doyle?'

'What about him?' said Spike, lighting up.

'Isn't he dating Cordy?' said Xander, reaching for Spike's cigarettes.

'Hey!' said the vampire. 'You don't bloody smoke, mate!'

'I think I'm about to start,' said Xander, picking one out and chasing Spike's light with a wobbling end.

He breathed in, breathed out and started coughing.

'You actually do this for fun?' he managed to say to Spike, who was laughing hard.

'It's not as if it's going to ruin my health, Pet,' said Spike, taking the smoke off him. 'Might knock a few years off yours though.'

'Oh great,' said Xander, 'And since my life expectancy is practically nil whenever I get involved with you guys...'

'Pretty much,' agreed Spike.

Xander leaned back against the wall.

'I'm screwed. Give me the cigarette.'

Spike shrugged and passed it back to the boy. Xander tried to inhale again. This time, the coughing didn't last as long. He tried it a few times, then passed it back to Spike.

'Is it something to do with LA?'

Spike stubbed out the Xander sucked cigarette and looked, confused at the teenager.

'Smoking?'

Xander shook his head.

'The gay thing. I mean, am I going to have to watch out for needs of another nature as well?'

Spike chuckled.

'Now what would make you think that, Pet?'

'Well you, for a start,' said Xander, 'And Angel. I mean, there was a whole "Drusilla is my crazy love puppet" thing, and Angel and Buffy...'

'Things change,' said Spike abruptly, 'And sometimes they change back.'

Xander stared at him a moment, realisation sinking in.'

'Oh God, you mean you two were always...'

He trailed off, his mind now full of all the vampires he'd ever met, shagging their way through history.

'Okay, now I'm officially grossed out.'

'By what?'

Xander shrugged.

'Well I'm fine on the gay issue, but the undead hunt the sausage game makes my bile rise.'

Spike chuckled.

'You'd prefer it if we shagged humans then?'

Xander reached for the can of coke on the side.

'Well, I mean, technically - doesn't it feel really cold?'

Spike chuckled.

'Been thinking about this a lot, haven't you?'

Xander nodded.

'More than I'd really like to admit to.'

'Well ten.' Said Spike, edging nearer the boy, 'You haven't had much luck with birds lately.'

Xander raised an eyebrow at him.

'Meaning what?'

Spike grinned ferociously.

'Maybe you're looking at another option, Pet.'

'Huh?' said Xander, suddenly aware how close Spike actually was. 'What was that?'

Spike leaned in, face kissing distance away.

'You never know until you try, Ducks.'

'Spike?'

They turned to see Angel, brown carrier bag in hand, looking at them both quizzically. Xander gulped and tried to get away from the vampire.

'Angel, Thank God...and there's a phrase I never thought I'd say.'

Angel didn't look in the least bit amused.

'What were you doing with Spike?'

Spike ran his finger along Xander's jaw line.

'Ease up, Love. Just seeing if Xander here has potential.'

Xander slapped Spike's hand away, much to the vampire's amusement.

'Get away from me you freaky, undead, oversexed bad guy!'

Angel frowned.

'You telling me that he's not good enough for you?'

Xander looked between Spike's bemused expression and the anger which was crowding on Angel's face.

'I never said that.'

'Oh yeah,' said Angel, 'What did you say then.'

Xander looked at them both again, gulped...and ran from the room.

Spike laughed hard as the anger dropped on Angel's face and the older vampire moved in close.

'And you call me cruel, Pet.'

'He'll get over it,' said Angel, nuzzling against Spike's neck.

Spike turned slightly, running his tongue up over Angel's jawline.

'You get all the stuff Weasly said we needed?'

Angel nodded and opened the bag.

'All the protective herbs I could think of.'

Spike looked at the massed amount.

'Which is a fucking lot, apparently.'

He sniffed.

'Doesn't smell too bloody bad though.'

Angel grinned and nipped at Spike's ear.

'Haven't lit any of it yet.'
 

*
 

Doyle closed the door behind him.

Somehow, he'd skipped through this little conversation every time he thought about it, as though the whole thing went, 'Cordy, I want to be with Wesley', 'Okay, that's great,' end of story.

He couldn't see it happening that way.

Especially now that Cordelia was wearing that negligee.

'Hi Doyle,' she purred.

'Princess,' he said as greeting, sitting down on the chair and keeping a careful distance from the woman he'd so recently been dating.

She edged over to his side and smiled at him.

'I forgive you for not telling me,' she said.

'Okay,' said Doyle, looking for the catch, 'I guess that's okay.'

She sighed.

'Is that all you're going to say, because I planned our big reunion to be a lot more interesting.'

Doyle swallowed hard and looked at her. Cordelia was watching him with that almost exasperated grin that he'd dreamt about long before she'd actually become his girlfriend. For some reason, it didn't seem to appeal the same. Was that because of Wesley? Or was it just guilt weighing hard on his heart. God, I have so much to atone for, he thought as he steeled himself.

'Cordelia...Princess,' he took a deep breath. 'We're not getting back together.'

She blinked, words passing through her head like wildfire - intangible, difficult to even see the spark for the flames.

'What?' she asked, 'What was that?'

Doyle breathed in again, letting it all out in his next sentence.

'We're not a couple anymore.'

She heard him that time, but the look of confusion was still there.

'I don't...I don't understand,' she said, wrinkling a near smooth forehead. 'I've said I forgive you.'

Doyle couldn't help himself.

'Well excuse me, darlin'. But I'm not seeing there's an awful lot to forgive.'

She drew back under his sudden anger.

'You didn't tell me,' she wanted to say firmly, but it came out like a whisper. 'And I don't care.'

She gazed at him.

'I miss you.'

Doyle shook his head.

'You should care, Cordy, cause it's not over.'

'Us?' she asked.

He could almost feel Wesley's quiet faith in him, and shook his head again.

'No sweetheart. Not us.'

Cordelia shifted, drawing the blanket up over her body, her unconscious realising what he'd meant even before she asked him to explain. She'd seen her world fall apart before - Willow and Xander; The IRS taking away everything she'd ever owned; Finding out that Hollywood didn't favour her. She'd seen all that, survived it, but it didn't compare to the low ache in her belly, the one that threatened to overpower her and make the tears come.

Not for anyone, her soul whispered, you cry for no one.

Doyle stared at his fingers, searching for answer she would accept.

'I don't know if I've ever been...a woman only man.'

'You're gay?' she asked, hearing that whisper again and bearing down.

Doyle looked up quickly.

'Don't think I've ever said it out loud, but I might be.'

Cordelia could feel a slow tear threaten to leak and resisted the urge to wipe it away.

'You never wanted me?'

Doyle sighed and stretched his hands out.

'Oh I wanted you Princess. I dreamt about you, would have died for you...'

'Would have?'

He offered her a gentle smile.

'Still would.'

She swallowed hard and tried to resurrect her wounded pride.

'But you don't want me anymore.'

'No,' he said shortly, biting down on everything that threatened to spill from his throat. I wanted you, I always wanted you, he wanted to say, but I have to choose, and you're not the one. It doesn't feel right. I spent so long wanting that the reality didn't work.

We don't feel right.

Cordelia nodded and reached for her robe.

'So, what now? We just pretend like nothing's happened and I watch you go make out with someone else?'

'I'm not going to rub anything in,' said Doyle. He shrugged. 'Kinda hoped we could be friends, Princess.'

'Don't call me that!'

He drew back.

'I'm sorry. I didn't think...'

'No, that's just it, Doyle, you don't think,' said Cordelia, 'You just go on instinct. And it hurts.'

'I know,' said Doyle, 'But hurting you, wasn't something I ever thought about.'

'There it is again!' said Cordelia, tying the belt round her waist, 'You don't think.'

She turned away and Doyle guessed she wouldn't let him wipe away the tear sliding down her cheek. Let her rant at him for a while, he deserved that at least. But she was wrong about the not thinking - he'd never thought about anything harder than this.

'You know what hurts most? That you never even gave me a second chance.'

That did it.

'What?'

She shook her head.

'I needed some time and you didn't even give me that.'

'You told me we were through,' said Doyle.

'And you believed that?' said Cordelia in disbelief.

'Yes?' offered Doyle.

'What kind of man are you?'

'A good man,' said a calm voice.

Neither of them had heard the door opening, but they turned their heads to see Wesley standing in the doorway, a sad look across his face.

Cordelia was the first to recover.

'He's leaving me for you. Isn't that just ironic.'

Wesley met her stare, then looked down to the note book he was holding.

'I believe I've found a way to rid you of the Incubus.'

She scowled at him.

'Is that all you can say?'

He offered the book to Doyle and moved to leave the room.

'What else do you expect me to say?'

'Well something would be good.'

Wesley turned back to look at her.

'I can't say anything that would please you, Cordelia. I'd only be adding fuel to the fire.'

Cordelia glared at him.

'And what are you going to tell Megan now that you're playing kissy ass with my boyfriend.'

Doyle stood up, bridging the distance between Cordelia and Wesley.

'Enough, okay. We can do this some other time. Let's just get rid of Cordelia's problem.

'You're my problem!' she yelled, feeling a second tear storm down her face. 'Everytime I think I've got it right, I'm betrayed!'

'I never betrayed you Cordy,' said Doyle, 'I never wanted...'

'If we're discussing betrayal, Cordelia,' said Wesley sharply, 'Shouldn't you look at yourself?'

She shook her head.

'What are you talking about?'

Wesley moved inside and stood next to Doyle.

'How did you react when you first learned that Doyle was half Brachen?'

'I...I accepted it,' she managed, trying to think back.

'Eventually,' agreed Wesley, 'But how close were you to killing him?'

'I would never,' she began, trailing off as she remembered how scared she had been. 'He didn't tell me! How else was I supposed to react?'

'A little compassion?' said Wesley, 'Something you seem to lack.'

'Enough now,' said Doyle, laying a hand on Wesley's arm, but the tall man was not to be stopped yet.

'Cordelia, I am sorry you've been hurt, but I can't help thinking that you bring situations upon yourself.'

'I made you gay?' she said, wiping way the salt streaks.

Doyle looked between them, finally seeing why he'd chosen Wesley.

'No, Cordy,' said Doyle, 'You made me look at why I hadn't told you.'

'And why was that?' she said, the answer yet another statement she didn't really want to hear.

'Because, Princess,' said Doyle, 'I knew you wouldn't understand. You hadn't before, and I knew you wouldn't now.'

She dried her eyes and looked at him, aware he was telling the truth, aware that things weren't right.

'I loved you,' she whispered.

'No,' said Doyle gently, 'You loved who you thought I was. Anything that didn't fit in, you ignored.'

'That's not fair,' she said solemnly.

'Life isn't fair, Cordy,' said Doyle. 'But you have to make choices.'

She let the tears go then, feeling their cool wetness down her face.

'And you choose him,' she said, then repeated it to herself, accepting the truth that was both hard to take, and unwelcome.

Doyle sat down next to her on the bed and wrapped his arm around her. Wesley looked at them both and moved quietly to the door, closing it behind him.

'I guess I have a lot to learn,' she said, snuggling against his chest.

'We all do,' said Doyle with a low laugh.

She nodded.

'I don't...I don't know if I can deal with this all now.'

Doyle nodded.

'That's okay.' He smiled gently at her, 'I'm not sure I 'm dealing with it all, yet.'

She laughed then, and Doyle wished it hadn't sounded so like a sob, but he held her anyway, wishing he could take away the pain, knowing he couldn't. She dried her eyes on his top and sat up, her strength coming back.

'You should go now,' she said. 'Tell Wesley...I don't know, tell him something.'

Doyle nodded.

'I think he knows, Princess.'

He stood up and moved to the door.

'Do you want me to get Xander?'

She snorted.

'Yeah, sure. Bring on someone else who did the dirty with me.'

Doyle looked down for a minute, but there was precious little bitterness in her voice.

'You want me to get someone else?' he asked, risking a look back at her face.

She shook her head.

'No, it's okay, ask Xander. I could use some of his dumb jokes right now.'

He nodded and put his hand on the handle.

'Doyle?'

He turned back to Cordelia, some of the light returning to her eyes. She smiled at him and a part of his heart thawed.

'I like Wesley better than Willow.'

He smiled again, and this time it felt right.

Doyle closed the door behind him and didn't look back again.
 

*
 

'Remind me again,' said Angel, 'Why are we sitting in my car?'

Spike wasn't looking at him, fiddling with the wheel on the side of the seat, trying to work out how the thing moved up and down. He'd been at it for five minutes now without success and it was beginning to get on his nerves. He knew he could ask Angel for some help, but his sire took great pleasure in lecturing about the proper use of things, and that was definitely not what Spike had in mind.

'Because you offered out our bloody bedroom for LMC and her resident bloody demon!'

Angel leaned back.

'I take it you don't mean Doyle.'

Spike gave the wheel a final yank and the entire seat fell backwards. Angel chuckled as the vampire screeched obscenities at the car's bloody mindedness. He helped the vampire sit upright and grinned at him, Spike's thunderous expression too enjoyable to miss.

'So, not Doyle then?'

Spike shook his head, aware that he couldn't lean back on the seat.

'Nah, the kid and I saw him and Wesley snogging before you came home.'

'Snogging?' asked Angel.

'Yeah,' said Spike. 'You reckon Motor oil's worth a try?'

Angel shook his head and thought about their friends.

'What?' asked Spike, opening the glove box and pulling out Angel's mobile phone. 'You never use this bloody thing, I don't know why you keep it in here.'

'Stops Cordelia nagging me,' said Angel. 'What do you mean, what?'

'What've you got that brooding look on for?' asked Spike, trying to unlock the phone's password.

'Stop messing with that,' said Angel, taking it off him.

'You never use it!'

'Well, I might figure it out someday,' said Angel, absently typing in the password. 'There.'

He put it back in the glove box and looked at his child.

'Did you smell them?'

'What am I? A perv?'

Angel grinned.

'I thought that went without saying?'

'Hur, hur hur,' said Spike, picking up the phone again. 'Yeah I smelt them. So what?'

'Didn't you get a whole load of...emotional stuff?'

'Hard and frustrated,' said Spike, 'Yeah, I smelt that. So?'

'So,' said Angel, suddenly feeling uncomfortable, 'Do you think...'

'What?' said Spike, trying to remember a phone number.

'Do you think they know what to do?' said Angel finally.

Spike snorted out loud.

'You've got me alone in a car and you're wondering if Weasly and the mutt have worked out what goes where?'

'I've got you messing with stuff,' said Angel, 'Would you put that back? Now!'

Spike chuckled and hit one last button.

'You're such a bloody stickler, mate.'

He started tapping out a rhythm on the dashboard and Angel shook his head.

'So do you?'

'I always do!' said Spike, leaning over and kissing Angel, who responded hungrily, before remembering what he'd asked and pulling away. The younger vampire raised an eyebrow at him.

'You're really that interested?'

Angel shrugged.

'There's something...interesting about a first time.'

Spike chuckled.

'Bloody voyeur!'

'I'm not,' protested Angel, 'I was just...curious.'

'Yeah, right,' said Spike. 'Any minute you're gonna ask the pair of them to come and watch and you'll give them a "how to" demonstration.'

Angel raised an eyebrow at him.

'That's not what I meant.'

'No?' said Spike. 'You're telling me it doesn't turn you on?'

'What?' said Angel, dimly aware that he'd started breathing, that his pants were already feeling too tight and uncomfortable. Spike leaned in and started tracing his fingers up Angel's arm, his cock throbbing and in need of some attention.

'You're telling me that you don't think about it?'

'About what?' said Angel, his flesh tingling with every brush of Spike's fingers.

Spike grinned and drew his hands down Angel's arm, crossing over to the firm chest and finding the hard nipples that he couldn't see, could only feel.

'Doyle sliding his shirt off onto the floor, human flesh shivering as the air hits it.'

Angel looked into Spike's eyes, half wishing that the light was better here. He couldn't quite read the expression there, could only guess. But he could smell the vampire's arousal, and since it matched his own, didn't object when the fingers slid through the opening of his shirt and started teasing his skin.

'He's all hair, matted across his chest with the sweat that's building up. He's never done this before.'

Spike licked his lips and looked hungrily at Angel's own. Not yet, he thought to himself, not yet.

'Wesley reaching out them long fingers and touching him, feeling how soft he is.'

Angel felt his breath catch.

'And Doyle, hands trembling a bit, undoing Wesley's shirt,' he started unfastening Angel's own, 'Wondering if he's as firm as he looks under them smart clothes.'

Angel's skin glinted slightly in the half-light, the sweat starting to create a thin film across his chest.

'He pulls it off and slides his hands up Wesley's back, all them muscles twitching under his fingers.'

He matched the action to the word, pulling Angel closer, his sire so tempting, so close.

So wait.

'And then Wesley's feeling a bit braver...so he slides his hands down over Doyle's belly, finding the fastening on his pants and slowly, ever so slowly, pulling the zip down.'

Spike moved his fingers back round, finding the fly on Angel's jeans, grinning as he realised it was a button affair. He moved deftly, springing the straining metal and releasing Angel's cock to the air. Angel moaned slowly and closed his eyes.

'And he's never felt another man's cock before. Only his own, so he starts to have an explore. Touching the length, wondering if the head's as sensitive as his own...'

Spike ran his fingers slowly around Angel's cock, grinning as he felt it twitch beneath his hand. All the warmth had left other parts of Angel's body for here, blood pulsing so close to the flesh in his cock. They hadn't eaten all that recently, and Spike knew that his own body would be as cold, knew that Angel wouldn't care.

'And when it pulses in his hot little hand, he looks up, and finds Doyle's shut his eyes, trying to keep some kind of control.'

Angel instinctively reached out for Spike's neck, pulling the vampire in close.

We are not the same, you and I, Angel thought, I regret what I was, you regret what I could never be. If you had your freedom, you would bite, killing everything within sight that caught your eye. We would be safe, our family, but everyone else would be fair game.

Is that what it has always been Spike?

Has it always been about the game?

Would you kill if there was an easier way?

Would you spare their lives if I told you the hard way was worth it?

When I lose control, people die. Is it the same with you?

If something happens, if somehow we find a way to get that damned chip out, would I have to kill you?

Part of him said it could never be so, that there was no way in Hell he would sacrifice his childe, his love, whatever happened. But Angel didn't entirely belong to himself and there were some places he hoped they'd never have to cross.

'Angel?'

The vampire blinked and looked at Spike, whose grin he could sense, even in the darkness.

'You brooding again, Pet?'

Angel smiled softly.

'Maybe a little.'

'Well bloody stop it,' said Spike, 'you're buggering up my story.'

Angel grinned this time, stroking the back of Spike's neck and wishing they were wrapped up in his bed.

'Sorry,' said Angel, 'I was just wondering if I should have done more to help you.'

'Help me?' said Spike, for once completely in the dark. 'With what?'

Angel kissed him gently, pressing his forehead against Spike's. He seemed to think better that way.

'Nothing,' he said quietly.

Then he smiled.

'I love you, Will.'

Spike grinned and leaned back into his seat.

'Come and prove it then,' he challenged.

Angel did.
 

*
 

Xander hit the rewind button on the answer machine, wondering why the tape had been filled with one phone call. He supposed that he should have been more vigilant about answering the thing, but he kept thinking that Buffy or Willow would call up, and he wasn't quite ready to talk to them yet. Too many things had been said, or rather unsaid back home.

They hadn't had a place for him, letting the boy wonder who he was, alone.

They hadn't had time for him, and Xander wasn't staying where he wasn't welcome.

Not anymore.

Cordelia had snuggled up to him in Angel's bedroom, and yeah, strike that on weird things he'd thought he'd never do. Xander had wondered the odd thing or two about vampire social habits, knowing that the whole coffin thing was a complete miss, but he'd never wanted to lay in Angel's bed.

Except that time when he'd wanted Buffy and Willow to be in it with him.

Without Angel of course.

At least, he thought it was of course. In the light of recent events, Xander wasn't quite sure. He had to keep reminding himself that it wasn't something about LA that made men look at other men like that. And on the whole, he was cool with it, trying to take an Oz-type approach...that is, Oz when he was Oz, not when he was Oz the wolf.

Okay, really not managing to stay on track here, really not making an awful lot of sense.

Nothing new there.

The tape squealed to a halt and Xander flicked the switch, hearing Cordelia's cheerful and slightly cheerleady voice proclaiming that they helped the hopeless. Okay, thought Xander, I came to the right place!

There was a click and then he heard a laugh, which he identified as Spike more quickly than he was really comfortable with.

'You're such a bloody stickler, mate.'

Xander frowned. How had these two managed to phone up here? Why had they phoned up here? It didn't sound as though they were actually talking into the phone and..........Oh my God! He hit rewind and listened to the section again. Oh yeah, oh yeah, that was what he'd thought.

His finger hovered over the stop button as he heard Angel, a guy he'd never heard breathing, panting hard, growling and moaning like there was no tomorrow. Which, he guessed, there might not always be for these guys.

Okay Xander, he thought to himself, these guys are fucking, you really don't want to hear this, You don't. And you are NEVER acknowledging that it might even turn you on a little bit. Shit, I'm hard!

He hit the switch and yanked the tape out, picking up one of Spike's lighters and burning it in the bin. Xander watched it burn for a while, then doused it with some of Cordy's coffee.

'Oh yeah,' he said to himself, 'It's definitely LA.'
 

*
 

'So do we just sit here in the smelly stuff or what?'

Spike, suddenly feeling the full weight of his sire, ignored the girl, wondering if this little sojourn Angel, Xander and Wesley were taking in the spirit world was going to do anything other than squash him. They were sitting in a doubled up triangle, Cordelia holding Xander, Doyle supporting Wesley, and Spike wrapped round Angel. With several smelly herbs, they had managed to send them through less than ten minutes previous, but it was already feeling too long.

'Don't worry, Princess,' said Doyle, 'Wes seems to know what he's doing.'

'And you'd know,' said Cordelia absently.

She neither saw, nor cared about the hurt that flashed across Doyle's face. She could accept that he had chosen the Englishman, but that really didn't mean she had to like it. And it certainly didn't mean she couldn't poke a little fun at it.

'This bloody sod's heavy!' said Spike, trying to shift as Angel's, literally lifeless body tried to slump to the floor. 'Didn't his soul go off somewhere? Shouldn't that make him lighter?'

'He's dead weight,' said Doyle dryly, realising that Wesley wasn't only taller than him.

'Very funny,' said Spike, 'Managed to come up with that one all by yourself?'

Doyle nodded, and they all winced as the candle burned down to the Lavender layer, it's strong aroma filling Cordelia's bedroom.

'God, it smells like my Grandma,' said Cordelia, wrinkling her nose.

'It smells like everyone's Grandma,' said Spike, 'Universal bloody smell, that.'

Doyle nodded, 'Yeah, only with my grandma you'd have to add pipe smoke to the mix.'

'Granny Doyle's a pipe smoker?' said Spike, 'Now there's a lady I'd like to see.'

'No offence,' said Doyle, 'But I can't see me introducing you to any member of my family.'

'No,' said Cordelia, 'He saves that up for his gay lover.'

Doyle turned and looked at her.

'That was a bit below the belt, Cordy.'

'Best place,' said Spike, huffing as Angel defied all logic and grew heavier, 'Certainly one of my favourites.'

Cordelia grinned and pulled at Xander, her arms hooked under his shoulders.

'At least you two aren't holding the King of Twinkies here. I swear he wasn't this heavy last year.'

'Oh yeah,' said Spike with a grin, 'You and the lame brain were sweethearts.'

'He's not a lame brain,' said Cordelia with a frown.

Spike grinned.

'But you were sweeties, right?'

Cordelia glared at him a minute before another whiff of Lavender hit them.

'So how long is this supposed to take, anyway?'

Doyle shrugged.

'Dunno - they've got to find the Incubus there and try and get it to go away.'

'Or kill it,' said Spike reasonably. 'They could always kill it.'

Doyle looked at him.

'Are you a really violent vampire, or is it just your species?'

Spike winked at him.

'I'm a fucking genius at blood sports.'

'So why aren't you in there with them?' asked Cordelia.

'It's the soul thing, Love,' said Spike, 'You need one to get in.'

'So essentially,' said Cordelia, 'You're holding Angelus - super bad guy?'

They all looked at the sleeping vampire, aware of the size of the threat. After a minute, Spike shook his head.

'Nah, Peaches would never agree to anything that released the bad guy. He'd piss his sappy pants if he thought it was even a possibility.'

'You hear this, don't you Doyle?' asked Cordelia, 'Spike's always being mean about Angel - maybe you could keep up the trend?'

Doyle raised an eyebrow at her, but he wasn't really offended - When he and Wesley had stopped off at their apartment before the ritual, the Englishman had shown him just how much he was wanted. Had they more time, Doyle was certain he'd have finally found out what was under that crisp white shirt. Holding him now, he could feel the clear shapes of his body, muscles relaxed as he slept the unnatural sleep.

When they'd decided who would go and who would act as anchor, Doyle had been more than willing to try his hand at the spirit world. But Wesley had been insistent that Doyle remained here. He had claimed that his Brachen side would worry the very creatures they sought for answers, but Angel had gone, and Doyle guessed that a vampire would act a whole lot more worrying than some half demon. Okay, so a vampire wasn't exactly a problem for the already dead, but still...he could have taken his place.

Xander had offered himself immediately, and, although he didn't mention it, Doyle was pleased that the boy cared so much about Cordelia. He understood the risk - that they might not be able to come back, that something could go terribly wrong - but he'd done it anyway. Doyle guessed that part of it was trying to prove himself useful, but from what he'd heard, and what Cordelia had told him, Xander had never hesitated to put himself on the front line. Whatever other inadequacies he had, lack of honour wasn't one of them.

Wesley twitched in his arms and Doyle looked down, seeing out of the corner of his eye that the others were coming round as well. Be on your guard, Wesley had told him earlier, you must make sure you know who is coming back. He tensed, as the long body shook, afraid that things might be over before they'd even thoroughly begun.

Spike stroked Angel's face, picking up on his sire's soul before anything else. When he met the dark eyes, he offered a grin which conveyed more than he'd ever say in public - welcome back, my own one. Angel smiled softly, but there was worry in his eyes that Spike recognised.

'It went badly, Peaches?'

Angel struggled to sit up.

'Kind of good, kind of bad.'

Spike frowned at him.

'Go on then, tell us what went wrong.'

Xander groaned and pressed back against his comfy cushion. He'd never really been involved with anything that involved his mind being detached from his body...well, aside from his personal achievements in daydreaming. Oh yeah, he was world class at that. But that had seriously been strange and it felt so good lying here, pressed up against such soft, warm...

'Okay Xander, awake now, you can stop groping.'

He sat up, flinching as though she's injured him. He was kind of surprised to see her cheeks high with colour. Maybe I wasn't the only one to like that, he thought.

But there wasn't enough time to pursue the idea, as the door flew open and the air between it fluctuated, causing light ripples and distorting the room behind it.

'Okay, now that I don't like,' said Cordelia.

'Me either,' said Spike, getting to his feet. 'What in Hell did you bring back?'

'The Incubus,' panted Wesley, standing with Doyle's help, 'It wouldn't leave Cordelia.'

'So you killed it,' said Doyle, 'Right?'

Wesley nodded, his breath seemingly stolen away. Angel assumed a fighting stance and spike growled. The older vampire looked at him briefly, aware that he'd need Spike's strength to defeat this.

'It had a mate.'

'A Succubus?' asked Spike with a snarl.

Angel shook his head.

'Worse, Alouqua.'

Spike raised an eyebrow at the name. He'd heard of it, the legendary mix between Vampire and Succubus - a demon created to drive men to suicide with its relentless demands for blood and sex. He'd heard of it, yes, but he'd never believed it existed. Her power was legendary, capable of crushing men to her will by mind tricks and sheer physical strength. Spike had certainly never intended to meet her.

It didn't seem as if he had the choice.

'I don't know what it was,' said Xander, reaching over for the cross Cordelia kept by her bed, 'But I'm thinking, not friendly.'

'You're not kidding,' said Doyle, 'I saw this bitch in one of them books you had me look at. Not pretty.'

'Except when she wants,' said Wesley, 'Then she's quite the site.'

'Lucky you're gay then,' said Cordelia brightly.

They all turned to look at her.

'What? Am I not allowed to say it?'

Xander patted her on the shoulder.

'Yeah, Cordy, you just don't have to include it in every sentence.'

She glared at him.

'I'm dealing okay.'

'Deal later,' said Angel. 'Unless you really want to die in your bedroom.'

'Xander blinked.

'Okay now there's a fantasy I really didn't want to know I had.'

Spike turned and grinned at the boy.

'I bet you're full of them, Sweetheart.'

'Don't look at me like that,' said Xander, 'It creeps me out.'

Spike lay a hand over his chest, a look of mock offence on his face.

'Oh now I'm hurt. Really.'

'Spike,' said Angel, a hint of a growl in his voice, 'Alouqua?'

A female form was materialising in front of them, taller than Angel and much less attractive. How this demon managed to get men into bed was beyond any of them, but they really had more to deal with than rating a demon from one to ten.

Xander looked at her wrinkled face.

'As token straight guy, can I just say I'd rather go to bed with Spike than her.'

Angel could feel Spike begin to say something and slapped a hand across his lover's mouth. Alouqua wasn't a demon he knew an awful lot about, and they didn't have any time to go into research mode. He didn't know how strong she was - or whether she was vulnerable to the same things as either of the demon types she represented. Still, he thought to himself, beating the Hell out of it can't do much harm.

With a flourish, Angel kicked out at the demon, feeling his foot sink into her flesh. She didn't seem to have a solid body, and he lost his balance, rolling across the floor as he tried to get in for another shot. Angel was aware that Spike had started laying down blows on Alouqua's chest, his fists dipping inside her form as the demon tried to decide exactly how to materialise. It didn't seem to be too much of a problem for Spike though, as the vampire rained down as many blows as he could, driving her into the open space of the living room with sheer will power. Angel rolled to his feet, drawing a stake out of his sleeve and driving it forward into the demon's body. She shrieked, but didn't do the convenient exploding dust technique, and Angel groaned. If vampire tactics didn't work, what would?

Xander came charging out of Cordelia's bedroom with a battle cry that sounded like 'Shit! This is gonna hurt!'. He swung wildly with what appeared to be a curtain pole, whacking Spike on the shoulder as the pole struck Alouqua at chest height. It sunk in, and Xander had to yank hard to pull the pole back out, Spike growling as it banged against him again. The demon reached out for him and Xander yelped as it touched his skin. He'd touched the dead before, even touched slightly squishy demon parts before, but he'd never felt anything as spongily corpse like as this. When her fingers clasped round his wrist, he yelled again, struggling against a creature whose grip on him was strong, but resisted any attempts to be touched itself.

Spike grabbed hold of the boy and yanked him backwards, Alouqua screaming out as the vampire's strength proved more than compatible. She reached out again, determined to feed on the boy, but Spike threw Xander back into the bedroom and got in Alouqua's way.

'What the Hell do we do?' he yelled to Angel.

'Keep her busy,' said Angel, launching another kick to the demon, 'She doesn't seem to understand language.'

'Probably doesn't have time, with all that shagging,' said Spike.

He looked around for something that would work as a weapon on the demon, but aside from Xander's impromptu curtain pole staff, there wasn't really anything of note. Still, it might have potential. Spike picked it up as Angel tried to make some impression on the demon. She might not have understood speech, but Alouqua was perceptive enough to know when intangibility was a good thing. As a result, Angel was fighting as hard as he could, putting all his strength into the act, whilst the demon was barely moving under his blows.

We're fucked, thought Spike, I don't know how to fight something like this.

Wesley walked into the room, book in hand, a serious look on his face. For a moment, Spike felt a surge of confidence in the mortal and he watched as Wesley ignored the demon and moved to the corner of the room. Doyle appeared in the doorway, colour drained from his face, and Spike realised that whatever Wesley was doing, its chance of success had just gone down.

He got up and grabbed hold of the Brachen demon.

'What's Weasly doing?'

Doyle dragged his eyes away from the Englishman and looked at Spike.

'Banishment. He thinks it'll work.'

Spike looked at Wesley, who had begun making a pattern with his hands, then to Angel, who was tiring under Alouqua's assault. There had to be something they could do.

'You reckon he can do it?'

Doyle shook his head.

'He's no spell caster.'

Spike grabbed his collar and shook the Irishman.

'We got to give the bugger a shot. You gonna wimp out here or come and help me give Angel a break?'

Doyle swallowed hard, then nodded slowly.

'A chance. Okay.'

He concentrated, and the spikes came through as his more demonic side presented itself. Spike grinned and vamped out, relishing the chance to beat the crap out of something. Okay, so said demon would probably be able to use his dust as snow grit within seconds, but he'd rather go out fighting.

He'd rather not go out at all, come to think of it.

He'd rather be in bed with Angel, arguing over whether chocolate syrup stains a bedspread.

But there was no time for that, and Spike let out a growl and launched himself at Alouqua.

Wesley panted hard, and wished the sweat wasn't dripping down his face and into his eyes. This was a chancy option at best, with no real assurances that it would have any effect at all. But if Spike and Angel couldn't fight it, and they couldn't stake it, this was the next option they had open.

That or let it take one of them.

And Wesley wasn't letting that corpselike creature lay one finger on Doyle.

He heard the Brachen demon cry out behind him and wanted to turn, to do anything to help, but he bit down hard enough to draw blood, aware that he couldn't lose his concentration.

'Isis, Nature, innocent blindness!' he proclaimed to the world.

Walking quickly, not looking at the violent exchange that was wrecking Cordelia's room, Wesley reached the corner opposite and raised his hands, hoping against hope that this would work.

'Horus, Warrior, the struggling soul!'

He caught sight of Xander, struggling to the doorway, wrapping his arms protectively round Cordelia and willed them to stay out of the room. He could smell the demon's overpowering scent - it's clammy nature wiping out all but the smell of battle. Wesley didn't know if he was imagining the blood, if he was just overwhelmed with the moment, but he daren't look at Doyle, daren't discover if the demon had hurt him, or worse.

He ran to the next corner and threw his hands up.

'Set, Apostate, seeking the spirit!'

Wesley thought he heard Alouqua howl behind him, wary that it may not be due to the spell, and ignored the tiny hope that rose in his belly. This could work, it whispered, you may have finally done something right.

With a tired cry, he panted out, 'Thoth, the Wise One, encompassing all!'

This time the demon howled on queue and Wesley risked turning round. Doyle was nowhere to be seen, but Angel and Spike stopped fighting her as Alouqua winced hard. Wesley swallowed and raised the crucifix he'd been holding, hoping the vampires would have the sense to get out of the way. He walked forward, intending to back Alouqua back towards the markings on Cordelia's bedroom floor, but Spike watched him, seemingly transfixed by the Englishman's spell. Before Wesley could come too close, Angel rugby tackled the vampire safely to the side of the room, covering them both with his coat as magic began to ripple across the room.

Xander saw the demon backing toward the door and pulled Cordelia, screaming, back into the room, bundling her onto the bed and drawing the covers round them both. He had enough time to realise how childish this was - that, despite knowing what walked the dark, he still believed instinctively that if you can't see it, it won't hurt you. With a silent prayer that Wesley knew what he was doing, Xander closed his eyes and pressed Cordelia closer to him, her arms wrapping round his back as she sobbed.

Wesley moved forward, Alouqua wincing as he raised the crucifix. Something had happened, the spell having some effect, but as yet, Wesley was unsure what. He knew what he had to say next, but his mind was losing its concentration, he was too worried about Doyle, and he needed every ounce of strength to pit his will against the demon's own. Alouqua seemed to sense the weakening of the man and howled, standing still and pushing back. Hope was draining away, and Wesley began to wish that the cup had not passed his way.

'I'm sorry,' he murmured.

'For what?' came the faintest sound over his shoulder.

Wesley felt a warm body pressed against his own, felt the strength in the mottled hand that came round and wrapped round his own. With a surge, he felt his confidence come back, and saw the demon wince under his regained power.

'Send it to Hell, Wes,' yelled Doyle over the demon's howls.

Wesley nodded and searched his mind for the words.

'By the laws that bind one to another. By nature's way. By everything I am and everything I will become, I banish thee!'

Alouqua howled and Wesley felt his nose begin to bleed.

'I banish thee!' he repeated and felt the last of his strength leaving him.

If it didn't work now...

'And I banish ya too!' said Doyle, 'Now get to Hell you scary psycho bitch!'

With that, there was shimmer of light and the demon started to break up in tiny segments of light. Wesley sagged in his arms, and Doyle was the only one watching as Alouqua made her final departure from this dimension.

'And don't come back!' came a voice under the bedclothes.

Doyle sat Wesley down gently in the wicker chair and stepped toward the bed.

'You okay there, Xander?'

'We're both fine,' said Cordelia from under Xander's arm. 'Thanks for asking.'

Doyle grinned.

'Glad you're safe too, Princess.'

Cordelia pushed the cover back and smiled up at him.

'Next time you have a vision, can't you just phone it in?'

Doyle shook his head and moved back over to Wesley, who was awake, but seemed very drained. Doyle ran his fingers over the film of sweat covering Wesley's brow, promising himself that when they got home, he'd run the man a bath, make him dinner, do whatever it took to make him feel better.

And if that included helping him towel off, Doyle wasn't going to argue.

'Weasly did it then,' said Spike, supporting Angel's battered frame in the doorway. 'Sent the bitch back?'

'Your thanks are completely unnecessary,' said Wesley, his eyes still closed.

'Wasn't thanking you,' said Spike with a grin, 'Wasn't my arse she was after.'

'Enough with the ass speech,' said Xander, 'I think sex is the last thing I want to think about now...and again with the first time speeches there.'

'Never mind,' said Angel, testing out his newly blackened eye, 'We can always find you a succubus to play with.'

'He's got one, Pet,' said Spike. 'Goes by the name Cordelia.'
 

*
 

'Ummm, Cordy?'

Cordelia closed her eyes in the bath and relaxed under the bubbles.

After they'd made sure that Alouqua was definitely not coming back, everyone had stayed back to tidy up her apartment. Whilst the others were busy trying to get chalk off her stained floorboards, she had taken the opportunity to hug Wesley. He had been surprised, but responded quickly, holding her close for a moment before she pulled away. He opened his mouth to say something, an apology which would have spoilt things, but closed it and nodded at her, offering Cordelia a smile she hadn't seen in a long while.

Spike had enjoyed himself by moving things that hadn't particularly been damaged or disturbed, hiding them in places that would surprise his bitchy little friend at inopportune moments. He longed to be there when she found the spiky statuette under the cushions in the front room, but instead, satisfied himself by removing all the lids on the bottles under the kitchen sink. Eventually, Angel had picked up on what Spike was doing and had carted him off, the younger vampire muttering something about a bet that had to be played out when they got their strength back.

Shortly after that, Doyle and Wesley had departed, Wesley having been fairly disabled for most of the night. Cordelia had watched as Doyle had deliberately not given the ex-watcher the physical comfort she guessed he wanted to. She knew it was mainly for her benefit, and whilst she appreciated it, some part of her didn't like it. Cordelia Chase had been accused of many things, being a liar wasn't one of them.

When the men had left, Xander had raided her kitchen for popcorn, and, on finding none, had gone to the buy a load of the junk food he lived on. Whilst he was out, Cordelia, wondering at what point she'd agreed he could spend the night on her couch, had run herself a bath and leaned back in the warm water. It had been an exhausting week, and just about everything she knew had undergone some kind of change. Whether it was for the better, she was reserving judgement until she'd had a full night's sleep, and...actually, she wasn't really thinking beyond that.

Xander had come back once she'd got relaxed, calling to her as he went about making something he called 'A slob's good night out'. It seemed to comprise of everything that put as many pounds on as possible, but Cordelia figured she was up for a little indulgence. Besides, she was actually enjoying having Xander around. He reminded her of Sunnydale, a taste of her childhood, and of what she had once been. On the other side, the side she wasn't really ready to look at, there was something very comforting about the boy, a feeling that he'd do anything to protect her, and it fit in well with their little group.

They weren't the Scooby gang anymore, they'd moved on a long way since that, but they were definitely something, a force to be reckoned with. Misfits, the lot of them, (even herself, conceded Cordelia privately, she wasn't the prom Queen here) fighting against forces the rest of the world didn't even care about. But they made a difference, they mattered. She smiled to herself as a bizarre image came to her mind - Snow White and five dwarfs, Grumpy, Horny, Boozy, Uptight and...

'Cordy?'

Oh yeah, here came Dopey.

'What is it Xander?' she asked, making sure she still hit that "what you have to say better be important" vibe.

'Are you gonna be long in there?'

'Why?'

'Because...' he paused and she guessed what he was going to say, 'I need to pee.'

'Can't you wait?' she huffed.

Cordelia almost grinned at the frustrated moan from outside the door.

'No, I really need to go,' he stressed, 'Please Cordy?'

She slid down into the bubbles and made her mind up.

'Okay, come in, but no peeking.'

She grinned at his pause.

'But you're...you're...'

'In the bath, Xander,' She bit her lip, 'Think you can cope?'

The door opened and Xander walked in, steadfastly staring at the opposite wall. He approached the toilet and Cordelia managed to keep a straight face. He seemed to pause again.

'You're watching me, aren't you?'

She smiled, but her tone was scoffing.

'Why would I want to watch you pee? Get over it Xander.'

'Okay,' he said, 'But don't watch.'

Cordelia raised her eyebrows and smiled to herself. Doyle may no longer be interested, but she still had an effect on Xander, and, despite the fact that she was so over him that he'd gone into ancient history, it felt good.

She could sleep on a thought like that.
 

*
 

Doyle swirled his hand in the bubbles, wondering why Wesley liked the water at scalding heat. Personally, he preferred it to be just warm enough, so that he never had to do the "going past your waist thing" he used to watch Harry do. But this bath wasn't about what he wanted, and since they'd got back, Wesley had expressed a wish to do nothing more than relax in a mass of "Very hot sandalwood", which Doyle had duly tried to provide.

Wesley had appeared quite touched and a little surprised by Doyle's offer. He knew that Doyle had been married before, and was vaguely aware that married couples did things for one another, but in the scope of all his past relationships, of which there were frighteningly few, he'd never really got to that stage. That he realised he was now in a relationship was another revelation - he'd longed for something to happen for so long, that when it finally did, he could scarcely believe his good fortune.

Doyle, on the other hand, was more than happy with the way things were working out. Relieved that he no longer had to keep things quiet, he was relaxing into just being with Wesley. The Englishman was very undemanding, every favour Doyle did received with quiet pleasure and some disbelief. It was a change for Doyle after Cordelia's definite needs. They were both finding their feet this time, and both men felt quite happy that they were cared for, that desire came in equal measure.

'Is it done yet?'

Doyle turned to see Wesley, stripped to his pants, barefoot on the bathroom floor. With a little intake of breath, the Irishman nodded, turning off the water and standing up.

'It's hot though, I don't know how you can stand to get in.'

'Not quite sure how I can stand at all,' said Wesley, 'I've never cast a proper spell before. I didn't realise how draining it could be.'

'Took you out, huh?' said Doyle, trying not to think too hard about the firmness of the body in front of him.

Wesley nodded.

'I think you can safely say that spellcraft is not for me.'

Doyle smiled a little, and Wesley felt a familiar twitching south of his belly. If he didn't regain some control, he'd wind up making a fool out of himself.

Again.

One of them had to make a move here.

'So,' said Doyle standing up, 'I'll leave you to it. Do you want something to eat, or something?'

Wesley shook his head.

'I think my appetite's awol at the moment, hopefully it'll come back tomorrow.'

Doyle brushed his hand against Wesley's waist and moved out of the room, half shutting the door, but not closing it completely. After all, he told himself, he's weak, he may need my help.

Yeah, right. Your motives are that pure.

He listened as Wesley undressed, aware that every sound was getting him hard, imagining what lay beneath Wes' "Englishman on safari' clothes. He knew Wes was well built, had felt the strength in his body many times now. A blissful number of times, where he'd been able to taste Wesley's lips, each kiss nullifying any worry he'd had about this choice.

Doyle heard the water swish and heard an 'Argh!', followed by a bit of a sploosh sound. Unable to resist, he moved to the door.

'Y'okay in there, Wes?'

There was a bit of a pause.

'Um, yes, yes I think so. It's bloody hot.'

Doyle chuckled.

'Well you asked for it hot.'

'Mmm, well yes, I did,' said Wesley, 'This is very hot though.'

Doyle grinned and moved to walk away.

'Doyle?'

He moved back to the door.

'Yeah?'

Afterwards, Doyle would swear he had heard the smile underneath all the uncertainty in Wesley's voice.

'You could always...run a bit of cold in.'

Doyle hesitated.

'Come in the bathroom, you mean?'

'Yes?' asked Wesley awkwardly.

Doyle grabbed the towel off the top of the sofa.

'Okay, but I'm not scrubbing your back.'

He opened the door, and was met by a warm grin on a very naked Englishman.

'I hadn't asked you...yet.'
 

*
 

'Why do you always lose the soap?'

Spike chuckled and groped around under the water, sending about a quarter of its contents out onto the floor. He grabbed under Angel's leg and the older vampire let out a laugh as ticklish fingers brushed his thigh.

'That's why, Pet,' said Spike.

He reached outside the tub and picked up the soap he'd left on top of his towel, before they even started.

'You had another bar?'

Spike grinned.

'First rule in any game, Peaches, always have an ace up your sleeve.'

'You haven't got any sleeves.'

'Haven't got an ace either,' said Spike, 'But the theory's sound.'

'It's cheating,' said Angel, 'Not that it would bother you in the least.'

Spike knelt up in the bath and wrapped his arms round Angel, half pretending to scrub the vampire's back, the other half just enjoying being this close to his lover in this warmth. Angel's mouth parted before Spike's lips touched, and he suckled in the long tongue, running his own over and over it, tasting the blood they'd drunk so recently.

'That was hard,' Angel said when Spike eventually pulled away.

'Nah, this is hard,' said Spike, grasping under the water. 'Quite a stonker you got there, Love.'

Angel laughed loudly and wrestled his childe underneath him, feeling the warmth of the water heating both their bodies. It was as close to the feel of a human as either could come, and Angel knew that Spike enjoyed it as much as he did. He also knew that when he slid inside Spike's body this time, the tightness would wrap him in a hot cocoon, their injuries already healing from the fight earlier.

'So,' said Spike, 'You reckon they're all at it?'

'Making Love?' asked Angel.

'Hot, wet sex,' grinned Spike, and Angel felt his hips shift in spit of himself.

'No,' he said, aware of an excited squeak to his voice. 'No,' he repeated.

Spike slid his hands to Angel's ass and started pulling him against his own body.

'In other words, you don't care and you want me to shut up.'

Angel snorted.

'Like that would ever happen.'

Spike grinned and started playing his hands all over the firm flesh of Angel's ass, slipping his fingers down to the crease and teasing the shifting muscles. Angel groaned and pushed forward, his cock pressing into the pool of Spike's belly. Every moan that Angel made was met by a kiss, Spike's tongue licking his lips, tasting the sweat they'd built up in the bath.

'Oh God...that's good.'

Spike grinned and pushed Angel backwards, the vampire splashing against the bath and tipping the water out. He slid forward and sheathed Angel's cock inside him, letting the warm water aid the vampire's passage. Angel let out a deep growl as Spike's tight ass slapped against his hips, his cock twitching inside the warmth. As the blond's fingers started stroking his chest, Angel shifted his hands to Spike's hips, pulling himself deeper inside, feeling the tension build, the heat rising between them.

Angel grabbed at the soap, covering his fingers and beginning to pay attention to the warm length in front of him. As he started sliding his fingers up to the tip, he noticed that Spike was biting his lip, warm blood slipping down his chin. He wondered what his childe was concentrating on and the...nothing mattered, because Spike was squeezing him, moving up and down on Angel's cock, his foreskin pulling back and sliding forward, the head growing ever more tingly, his balls beginning...and it just felt so...good...he needed...he wanted...

'Will,' he moaned.

Without a word, the younger vampire leaned forward and sank his teeth into Angel's neck, feeling fangs sink into his own. Spike felt the explosion in his ass, Angel's movements growing ever more frantic as he came. The fingers covering his own cock seemed to tremble, then Angel picked up the pace, still thrusting gently into Spike's ass, pressing against the sensitive gland, making the blond lose all control.

With a loud growl, Spike broke away from Angel's neck and came hard, sticky fluid coating Angel's chest, some floating away in the water. He closed his eyes and licked off all the blood from his teeth, the last of his cum sliding off the tip. Grinning down at Angel, Spike waited for his sire to concede the point.

'Okay,' panted Angel, 'I think you not talking is almost as good as you making a load of noise.'

'Prefer me with my gob open,' said Spike, smiling.

'Something like that,' said Angel.

He looked around at the waterlogged bathroom and the various white floaty bits in the bath.

'Shower?' he said with an innocent half grin.

'Yeah,' said Spike, 'And this time I'm gonna make you scream.'

Angel eased Spike off him and stood up slowly.

'I think all you need to do is let me know how long it's going to take to clear this lot up.'

Spike pulled him into the suddenly warm flow.

'I think I can figure out a better way to do it, Peaches.'

Angel grinned and kissed him.

'You always do.'

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