~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
'These sheets are disgusting.'
Spike opened an eye reluctantly. He wasn't the type of vampire, (or, for that matter, the type of man) who wanted to get cleaned up after sex, and despite Angel's anal urges, wasn't going to start being Miss Spray and Shine now.
'Sleep on the couch then, Pet.'
Angel frowned at him and Spike closed his eyes again, chuckling. He stopped abruptly when his sire grabbed hold of the sheets and pulled them, magician style, off the bed, turfing the blond vampire onto the floor. As Spike scrambled angrily to his feet, he heard Angel laughing and growled, looking up at the vampire with the fudge covered sheets in his hand.
'That,' snarled Spike, 'Wasn't funny, Love.'
'Oh I thought it was fairly funny. Although,' said Angel, scratching his head, 'isn't everything supposed to stay put? Maybe you could get back on and I'll give it another shot.'
Spike scowled and Angel dumped the sheets in the laundry basket, grinning his way into the kitchen. He filled two mugs and began warming them in the microwave; aware his lover had meandered in, naked, after him.
'They'll be here in ten minutes, Spike. Why don't you get dressed?'
'Because I wasn't finished.'
Angel raised an eyebrow and turned to see Spike grinning maniacally at him. He was wearing, and Angel blinked twice to make sure he had it right, nothing but a big smear of chocolate fudge across his belly, dripping down towards the...the...
He sighed and then attempted a frown.
'Put...some clothes on,' he said through gritted teeth.
Spike leaned back against the counter.
'Make me, Love.'
'I'm not playing this game. They're going to be here in,' he looked at the clock, 'less than ten minutes. Just cover up.'
'Ashamed of me, Pet?' said Spike, gently encircling his aroused cock and squeezing it.
Angel shook his head.
'You know I'm not, but...'
'But what? I'm not bothered if Little Miss Blabberbox and co see me in the buff. Why should you be, Love?'
And all the time, Spike's erection was growing harder and firmer and longer and....
'So why, Pet?'
Angel growled and grabbed the table.
'Because I'm the only one who gets to fuck you.'
Spike threw back his head and laughed.
'So you reckon that one glimpse of me like this and Doyle'll have me spread across the table in no time?'
Angel growled low again, feeling certain demon urges being suppressed by his own desire for the body across the room.
'Dress.'
Spike started bucking his hips against his hand, the head disappearing beneath torturously sensitive fingers and the smudgy fudge smearing across the length, warmed by all the friction. Angel could feel his tongue, desperate to hang out and envelop that throbbing shaft, but he didn't. He mustn't. This was something between them and, whether Spike had been serious or not, he had noticed something different about Doyle lately. He'd been looking at them both...almost admirably. And Wesley...he wasn't quite as disapproving. Something had happened, but he didn't know what.
And something needed to happen right now.
Yeah, you could get your ass over there and suck that boy dry.
True.
Fun.
Not enough time.
Time for plan B.
Spike groaned as he brought himself closer to what would be his fourth orgasm this evening and was unprepared for Angel's assault. The dark vampire launched himself across the table and knocked Spike to the floor, pinning his arms away from his needy cock. Spike roared but, strong though he was, Angel was ever so slightly more powerful - size being what it was. And his sire had him pinned to the ground - something not wholly unpleasant, but...
'Hey!'
Angel grinned briefly as he pulled the jeans onto his lover. Spike was squirming in his grasp, but Angel was determined. Sex could come later. They both could come later. And if he didn't hide this body, he was going to wind up getting no work done. Again. He just couldn't think when he had such pleasures to keep him away from the penitent stuff. Who could refuse Spike's taught body pressed up against them?
He pulled the T-shirt over Spike's protesting arms.
'This sucks, Pet!'
'Yeah, well, so will I...afterwards.'
Spike growled and Angel struggled to fasten the button fly on his jeans. The vampire was thrusting that hard cock up into his hands and Angel had to bite down hard on his lip not to just enclose it in his fingers and have Spike orgasm all over him. Think! Oh yeah...God I love this man...Not with your dick! Think. Cordelia? Wesley? Doyle?
Angel sighed and fastened the jeans, pulling Spike to his knees and kissing him fiercely. He pulled away with a gasp, lust spread deeply over his handsome features.
'When they've gone I'm gonna fuck you so hard you're going to beg me to stop.'
Spike chuckled at the statement. Angel was capable of many things during sex - he loved to bite and be bitten and they had touched on bondage slightly, but anything remotely painful triggered off Angelus memories. Whilst Spike still remembered certain things fondly about the beast his sire had been, the thought that he was the same creature was guaranteed to make Angel lose his erection. Begging, in their new roles, had become very human - a tease, something to increase desire, but never, never to hurt.
It was a part of their relationship that Spike could live without. Angel knew, for example, that the backs of the blond vampire's knees were highly sensitive. As Angelus, he'd whipped them continually until Spike came hard, his cock untouched. As Angel, he'd spent countless hours licking, sucking and tracing patient little designs over the tingly flesh. To Spike, it didn't matter how he dealt with his erogenous zones. What mattered to him was that Angel knew what aroused him and paid attention. Though personally, his favorite moments were when Angel lost complete control and bit deep into the flesh. The blood spilling deep into Angel's throat made his cock throb harder and the sheer desire reflected in Angel's demonic eyes was enough to send him over the edge.
He grinned at Angel.
'You can try, Pet.'
'I will,' grinned Angel, 'you can count on it.'
'Can't you two ever get your minds out of the gutter?'
Angel peered over the table. Cordelia and Wesley had arrived, Doyle's arms draped over their shoulders. The Irishman didn't smell drunk, but his head was slumped, his body limp in the arms of his friends.
'Vision?' asked Angel.
'Well, duh!' exclaimed Cordelia, 'Like I'd carry him down here otherwise.'
'He collapsed in the office,' said Wesley, concern sweeping his face. 'Whispered something about a boy and then fainted. It must have been quite a powerful apparition.'
'Yeah,' said Angel and helped the Irishman onto the table.
Doyle groaned and started to wake up.
'Aww, Wes, you didn't have to do it that hard...'
He paused, seeming to realize where he was.
'Hey Spike...Angel.'
'Evening, Pet,' said Spike, getting to his bare feet. 'Had a little vision did we? Mind numbingly painful?'
'Yeah.'
Spike grinned.
'Yeah,' he sighed, 'I thought it was.'
Angel raised a warning eyebrow and Doyle sat upright on the table, accidentally putting his hand in a puddle of chocolate fudge. He stared suspiciously at Spike, who returned a grin. Angel handed him the cloth apologetically and set about clearing up the remnants on the wood.
'So, the vision,' said Angel, staring at the table. 'What was it?'
Doyle shook his head. Wesley took a glass to the faucet and poured out a good amount. He looked at the contents, smelled it abstractedly and tipped it down the drain before pulling out a Doyle sized whisky bottle from his pocket. Spike raised an eyebrow.
'You brought him a hanky as well, Pet?'
Wesley passed the bottle over and glared at Spike.
'I realize that as a creature of evil you enjoy seeing suffering, but I prefer not to watch a friend in discomfort.'
'Easy tiger,' said Angel, 'I'm sure Spike was just...'
'I am quite aware what Spike was implying,' said Wesley defensively, 'I am simply pointing out that some of us are not evil demons.'
'No, some of us are missing a party to be working tonight. Now what did you see?'
Doyle looked at Cordelia, hearing the sharpness in her voice. It wasn't evident in her face and he smiled gently at the girl, before turning to Angel.
'I saw a house and some kids, a boy and....a little girl, I think. There was a man there...and so much fear.'
Angel threw the cloth into the bowl and reached for his coat.
'Where was this?'
Doyle blinked and wrote down the address.
'They're really scared, Angel, but...I don't know.'
'What?' asked the vampire.
Doyle sighed and knocked back some of the whiskey.
'I think this is something that's been going on a while. There was fear, but not surprise. You're going to have to be careful.' He looked at Cordelia again; 'They're good at hiding it.'
Spike started pulling his boots on, one eye on Wesley, who, he had noticed, hadn't taken his eyes off Doyle since he'd arrived. Interesting, especially considering the proximity of Cordelia.
'So what's the plan, Pet?'
Angel paused for a moment, before rattling off instructions.
'Doyle, you stay here with Cordelia. See if the pair of you can find anything out about the address. See if you can get any information on the people there - who's been there previously. Anything.'
'Amityville, right,' said Cordelia; 'You want the whole scope.'
'Wesley, Spike, you come with me.'
Spike nudged the ex-watcher.
'Triffic, Pet. We get to go driving together.'
Wesley raised an eyebrow.
'I'm going nowhere if you're driving.'
'What's wrong with it? Just because I haven't got a license...'
'No license, no skills, no idea of safety...'
'What am I going to do? Die?'
'...And no care of anyone else on the road. Frankly, I'm surprised that Angel allows you to back the car out of the garage.'
Spike growled whilst Angel, Cordelia and Doyle exchanged glances.
'Angel. Doesn't. Control. Me.'
Wesley was unflapped.
'I never suggested he did.'
He smiled.
'I'm sure if control was in question, he'd use a much shorter rope.'
Wesley walked past towards the basement having delivered the zinger and Spike moved to attack him. Angel grasped his shoulder before he caused himself damage and the blond spun to glare at him. Angel flashed him a quick smile and Spike was surprised to feel some of his tension drain away.
'I'll drive,' said Angel.
'You don't trust me with your bloody car, do you?'
'It's not that exactly,' said Angel, walking past him down the stairs.
'Then what is it like, Pet?'
Angel paused and reached for his car keys.
'I don't trust either of you to drive.'
The vampire growled and followed his sire down to the car.
Doyle shook his head and slipped off the table, screwing the lid back on the bottle and slipping it into his coat pocket. He followed Cordelia up to the office and sat down on the desk as she tapped away on the keyboard. He smiled to himself as she flipped quickly through appropriate screens. She was getting better. Even her typing skills had improved, if not to perfection, at least to a state where she didn't hand out invoices from Angle Investigations.
She noticed him looking at her and glanced up.
'What?' she asked.
'Nothing,' said Doyle.
She raised an eyebrow.
'I was just admiring your net skills.'
Cordelia laughed dryly and flipped to the next screen.
'Yeah, after I laughed at Willow so long in school, I'm now fumbling in her footsteps. Irony or what?'
Doyle brushed a stray hair from her forehead and she smiled at him.
'So,' she continued, 'How's it feel, living with Mr. Uptight?'
Doyle shrugged.
'He's not that uptight. Just needs to let his hair down every now and again.'
'Oh!' said Cordelia, 'your kind of man, hey?'
'It's not like that.'
'Like what?' asked Cordelia. 'Like two guys who live together?'
'Share a flat.'
'Whatever,' said Cordelia.
She hit the search button and then laughed.
'You know, I was actually feeling jealous.'
Doyle smiled and slid down into the chair next to her.
'Jealous? Of what?'
'There,' she said, pointing to the screen. 'Oh, well, it just seemed like you and Wesley were all buddy buddy and I was out of it.'
'Well you wanted out of it, Princess. You wanted to meet non-demon types. Saw plenty of those at your party.'
She scowled at him.
'I'm not dating any of those guys.'
'Hmm, what's this?' asked Doyle, looking at the address list. 'How come?'
Cordelia turned the printer on and clicked the Print button on the screen.
She turned to Doyle.
'I don't know. I guess,' she paused and sighed. 'I used to want a guy with money, good looks and strictly of the non-demon variety.'
'And?'
'And now I want most of that...but, I want him to be brave and heroic as well. I hate not being shallow.'
Doyle flicked the screen to a newspaper cutting.
'That's strange.'
'Well yeah, I mean, tell me about it! It's like, everything that Mom told me isn't true.'
'No,' said Doyle, printing out the cutting, 'I mean, this is strange. A family friend went missing in Akron. They've moved an awful lot.'
'Oh,' said Cordelia, moving next to him. He could smell her perfume, faint, feminine. Intoxicating.
'Wow,' exclaimed the girl as she read the article. 'These guys like trouble.'
She rested her head over Doyle's shoulder and read the next page. The half demon closed his eyes briefly, wondering why she did this. It wasn't as if there could be anything between them. She'd made that quite clear. And Wesley...he wasn't even sure there was a situation there that needed dealing with.
'Princess?'
'Mm?'
He smiled and tried hard not to think about the svelte body pressed against his back.
'Who are you dating?'
He could feel her soft laugh against his neck.
'No one.'
He grinned and felt her hand creep round to click on the file for Akron.
'Non demon guys can't hack it?'
She was so close.
'Something like that...'
Cordelia's hands dropped from the mouse and covered his own softly. Doyle stared at it for a moment before turning round. She looked so young, and he felt so old right now. But if there was ever a moment to seize, this was it and he grinned gently, willing his Irish charm to work its magic now.
'So,' he paused, brushing a hand lightly down her cheek, 'D'you think there's any chance for a poor, homely looking, half-demon type...'
'You forgot to mention heroic,' murmured Cordelia, her tongue flickering over her bottom lip, 'And badly dressed.'
'Right, so...Any chance for someone like...'
She tilted her mouth up to meet his and he swore he could feel electricity pass between them as Cordelia's tongue sought refuge in his mouth. Doyle wrapped his arms around her and pulled Cordelia tight against his chest. Her hands crept up, stroking along his hairline, feeling the coarse hair on the back of his neck. He could feel her smile against his mouth and moved his hips away slightly, not wanting to betray the tenderness of this kiss with his own needs. But she moved against him again and Doyle ran his hands, finally, through her luxuriant hair, touching each tendril as he had so many times in his dreams.
As the kiss deepened, he caught himself thinking of Wesley and his passion abated slightly. Despite the knowledge that they'd been drunk, that it had been the mood, the atmosphere and most of all, Doyle who had initiated it, he was aware that Wesley had reacted differently towards him afterwards. Neither man had mentioned the kiss, but it hung there between them - something unspoken and threatening.
He drew back from Cordelia's kiss and held her there, panting, passion rising and met, but tinged by his guilt. It's ironic, he thought, she's all I've wanted...for months, she's all I've wanted and now...I'm feeling guilty because someone else cares about me.
Fate fucks with us all.
'Cordy, Love...'
'What? She breathed.
'I...cats and dogs?'
'Huh?'
Doyle looked on the screen past her.
'Cats and dogs, all found, butchered everywhere they've lived.'
'Oh,' she said. 'The case, right.'
He squeezed her hand and she moved next to him.
'This doesn't look good,' murmured Doyle.
Cordelia nodded.
'Everywhere they go, there've been reports of disturbances.'
'Something's really wrong with that family,' he paused, 'We should go tell Angel.'
She sighed and pulled him against her again.
'Do you want to go be heroic?'
He was still mulling the question over when she kissed him again. And
then he wasn't thinking about anything other than the softness of her caress.
*
'I was driving when they still had some stupid bugger waving a red flag!'
'That does not make you a better driver, Spike. I took my advanced driving test and passed with flying colours.'
'Flying colours! That was vomit you daft get!'
Angel winced and pulled over to the side of the road. He didn't know what was causing it, but Wesley had become unusually argumentative lately and Spike, was, as always, happy to oblige. The dark vampire was currently weighing up his options. He either wanted to drag Spike into the back seat and fill his mouth with his more than ample cock, or kill them both. Since his soul was too battered to accept a death and Wesley would more than comment on an impromptu blowjob, he was going to have to settle for C, ignore them both.
'I am not even rising to that bait, Spike. I have a perfect safety record. Unlike you.'
'I'm alive aren't I?'
'No.'
'You know what I mean, Pet. If I was that bad a driver, I'd have gone up in flames by now.'
There was a pause.
'Just because you haven't crashed personally, does not mean that others have not crashed as a result of your actions.'
'Yeah? Act on this, Pet!'
Angel looked in the rear view mirror and caught sight of two fingers raised to the fellow Englishman. He sighed again, wondering if they'd hear him this time and take the hint.
'And now you're resorting to crudity as you've run out of reason.'
Apparently not.
'Well I'd rather take a chance and actually get there on time, rather than arse about at the *exact* speed limit and piss everybody off.'
'Speed limits are there for a reason...'
'We're here,' said Angel quietly.
'It's a bloody rule. And all bloody rules are there to be broken!'
Wesley sighed.
'A society works because of its in-built rules and....' he paused and noticed Spike's raised eyebrow. 'I must have lost my mind - I'm trying to explain social structure to a vampire.'
'Hey, Pet. Vampires know all about social structure.'
'Really,' said Wesley, folding his arms. 'I find that highly unlikely.'
'Guys,' said Angel, noticing something across the road.
'Sure, Pet. It goes - Vampires on top, humans on the bottom, demons somewhere in the middle.'
'Wonderful analysis,' said Wesley, 'who needs Marx when they have you?'
'And Nytol's a fucking waste of money when you can just talk people to sleep.'
'He's sleepwalking.'
Angel climbed out of the car and saw the boy step into the road. The roar of the car was very close and he had to turn speed at a vampiric level to cross the road in time. His body rolled to the pavement as the car honked its way past, the boy pressed close to his chest, his little heart still beating with the slowness of the sleeping.
But he was no longer asleep. He looked at Angel stoically, as if strangers' rescuing him from roads was something that happened all the time. There was a tear in Angel's coat and a wound had opened beneath it. The blond boy stared at the cut and then up to Angel's face, a taunting tone in his young voice.
'You're bleeding. Are you going to cry?'
Angel blinked and then thought. How do you talk to children?
'I don't think so,' he paused and looked at the cut, 'I don't know, huh, let me think.'
He paused a second and pretended serious contemplation.
'Ah, no....yeah...uh no, not going to cry.'
He smiled at the boy and as the child smiled back, he felt some small amount of tension release. Cathy...his mind threw up and he quashed it before his depression could begin afresh.
'What's your name?'
'Ryan'
'Ryan, you want to tell me what you were doing outside?'
As he looked up, he saw a man and woman, presumably the boy's parents rushing over the lawn. She was screaming her son's name and was close to hysteria. As the father berated the boy, his mother enfolded him in her arms and kissed him tenderly, repeating a mantra of protection - you're safe now, you're safe now...
The father was harsh, but he was relieved to see his son in tact. His gratitude to Angel didn't ring true though. Paige, the boy's mother, insisted on tending to Angel's wound and since the vampire had an invite, he followed them all in the house, wondering if he could get past Seth's guarded attitude.
Wesley and Spike watched from the car.
'Oh that's just marvelous. I've been here sitting with you and obviously missed Angel's instructions to assist him.'
Spike raised an eyebrow.
'You've seen him haven't you, Pet? Tall dark, handsome and attractive. If he's going to charm the pants of that silly cow in there, he's hardly going to want Mr. Magoo to go with him and louse it up.'
Wesley climbed out of the car and headed over to the house.
'He isn't going to need some Billy Idol wannabe, either. Is he?'
Spike growled and Wesley rolled his eyes.
'I suggest that you and I search the perimeter of the house for clues.'
Spike groaned and picked up the torch.
'Thought I left the Scooby Gang back in Sunnyhell.'
Wesley took the torch off the vampire and moved quietly round to the rear of the house.
'This is not a cartoon, Spike! This is a serious matter.'
Spike watched as Wesley opened the trashcan.
'Where's it written that groping in scuzzy pizza boxes is serious investigating?'
Wesley ignored the vampire and moved the offending article aside. There was a doll below it. As he picked it up and frightened himself with its squeak, Spike had moved towards something interesting on the stairs.
'Oh, Weasly, get your arse over here.'
Wesley frowned and put the doll back in the trashcan, before adjusting his glasses and looking where Spike was bending down. There was a fluorescent substance coating the wall below a window with burglar bars across it.
'Oh dear,' sighed Wesley.
'Too fucking right,' said Spike. 'Bloody Ethros demon.'
Wesley removed a small jar from his coat and scraped an amount of the slime into it. Spike watched him, then looked up to see a small girl watching them from the window. She smiled pleasantly at the vampire and he scowled. It seemed to amuse her, so Spike started doing his Big Bad act, wondering whether she'd laugh when he showed her his demon face. She grinned at him and as he found himself growling again, he knew that if she was close, the heat of her blood and the pulse would intoxicate him...
'Spike?'
Spike looked away from the window and toward the demon hunter. Wesley was watching him looking at the child and the vampire stared at him wildly, bloodlust a mere second away. He was breathing hard, panting with desire and Wesley stepped forward, recognizing that if the chip in Spike's head failed...even for a minute, he was the walking dead.
'We have to get you out of here.'
Spike swallowed hard and stared up at window, as the girl tilted her head, as if she was assessing what he was. She saw his demonic face, the vampire's final appearance to the victim before death, and she was not afraid. Wesley stepped toward the car, pulling on Spike's long duster. The vampire tensed, unwilling to follow anyone, but the girl's inquisitive gaze disturbed him and he turned deliberately away.
Wesley said nothing until they reached the car and opened the door for Spike, wary as the vampire sunk peacefully into the seats. Spike stared out of the window, his bloodlust ebbing away, but the lack of reaction, the peace and acceptance was driving into him like nothing he'd ever known. Wesley sat down next to him, looking at the phosphorescent jar and speaking quietly.
'It still happens then?'
'What?' growled Spike.
'The Bloodlust. I'd suspected, but I'd never seen before.'
Spike snorted.
'What am I? Bloody experiment?'
'Well actually,' said Wesley, removing his glasses, '...that's precisely what you are. A product of this...'
'Initiative'
'Initiative's conditioning.'
He breathed deeply and concentrated on the jar again.
'I studied Angel's form in the Watcher's diaries. Mr. Giles was unclear on several points, but he did mention that Angel was still subject to the bloodlust. I had wondered, since I learnt of your condition, if you suffered from the same process.'
'It's not suffering,' snarled Spike.
Wesley sighed again.
'For a normal vampire, that would be true. But you are, whether you like it or not, a unique case. As far as I am aware, this has not happened ever.'
Spike snorted.
'You saying that no other vamp's had his fangs capped?'
'In a manner of speaking. There have been cases, where the vampire in question was subject to a spell for a certain amount of time.'
'And they got fixed?' asked the vampire, her face still in front of him.
'Well in some cases, the effects eventually wore off in one manner or other.'
'And the others?'
Wesley put his glasses back on.
'Come on Pet, you can tell me. I'm the Big Bad, remember?'
Wesley looked at Spike.
'As they were unable to defend themselves, they died, either from starvation, or brutalized at the hands of the humans they needed to feed from'
Spike picked at his nails and stared at the house, wondering what his fate would have been, had Angel not intervened. He sniffed and reached in his pocket for a smoke. As he lit it up, he turned to Wesley, aware that the ex-watcher's face was concerned, not only for the safety of those around them, but for Spike's own well being.
He grinned.
'Is that a Watcher bothered about a Vampire?'
Wesley raised an eyebrow.
'I'm no longer a Watcher.'
Spike blew out a smoke bubble and grinned.
'And I'm not exactly the Big Bad anymore.'
'Spike...' began Wesley.
'Save it, Pet. I know what I am. I know why I'm still here.' He stubbed out the cig on the palm of his hand. 'Doesn't mean I have to like it all the bloody time, though.'
Angel came out of the door and headed toward the car. Wesley slipped the jar into his pocket and Spike stared at him. The demon hunter shook his head.
'I won't say anything to him.'
'Right,' said Spike and grinned, 'Or I'll beat the crap out of you.'
Wesley snorted.
'Now that I would like to see.'
He looked up as the worried vampire climbed back in the car.
'Angel?'
Angel closed the door and looked at both of them.
'Something is wrong in that house. The wife wants to talk, but the husband keeps getting in her way.'
Spike looked at Wesley, thinking about the substance they'd found behind the house.
Angel stared at the front door.
'I'm going to come back tomorrow night.'
'Be careful,' said Wesley.
'I always am,' said Angel, looking at Spike and seeing the burn mark on his hand.
'Be especially careful,' said Wesley, pulling out the jar of plakticine.
Angel stared at the substance and up to his companions.
'Plakticine?'
'Covered the foundations, Pet. Weasly and me saw it coming from a window upstairs.'
'So now we know,' sighed Angel.
'Yeah, Love,' said Spike, looking toward the house. 'Some poor fucker
in that house is possessed.'
*
There is a point in which you make a choice in any kiss.
For Doyle, it was the moment when his fingers touched the clasp of Cordelia's bra - a thin stretch of material that marked out one side of a relationship from another. She hadn't stopped him; her body pressed against his and her mouth torturously sliding against his own.
They'd been kissing on and off over the course of the past hour, gathering information and then succumbing to a newly accepted passion. Heat burnt in both of them, but Doyle was very aware of the circumstances and that he could not, at least at the moment, invite her back to his place to further their explorations. And Phantom Dennis was always evident at Cordelia's boudoir.
No where to be alone.
Except here and now.
'Mm, Cordelia?'
She strained to kiss him and touched along his neck, exciting the Irishman in ways he had almost forgotten about.
'What?' she murmured between caresses.
She was shifting her hips teasingly against his own. He breathed deeply, unwilling to admit what he was going to say.
'We have to stop...Angel...'
'Is always embarrassing us with Spike...' she purred against him, 'He's not going to mind...'
Doyle could feel the flimsiness of the material beneath his fingers. One little move and that step would be taken...
He couldn't.
'Wesley might be with them.'
She almost laughed.
'Wesley? Wesley's stopping you...'
'He likes you, Princess. It's a bit cruel to blast it in his face.'
She pulled away and looked at him.
'You are actually blowing me off because of Wesley?'
He stared at the beautiful girl in front of him. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, her hair, usually so neat was tousled and half-stuck against her head. She was so hot - for him. He could take her now. She wanted it now, wanted him...and everything pounded in his heart, his whole body needed...to think this through.
'I can't sweetheart. I've wanted you so long, and I just wanted it to be with the two of us.'
She raised an eyebrow at him, and looked pointedly round at the office.
'There's no one here!'
'We're back!'
She shrugged and tried to right her hair.
'Okay, so now there's someone here.'
Wesley walked in the room brandishing the glowing jar and passed it to Cordelia who tilted it up to the light.
'This is pretty. What is it?'
Spike and Angel walked in, both smelled the air and looked at Doyle, who shook his head. Spike opened his mouth, grinning at the news, ready to ask all sorts of compromising questions. Doyle winced as he waited for the onslaught but Angel grasped Spike, pulling him into a big clinch. The younger vampire was stunned, though not displeased, and started kissing his sire with a passion.
'It's the excretion of an Ethros demon.'
Spike broke away from Angel, his lips puffed up and a trickle of blood leaking from the very edge. He turned to Wesley with some effort.
'Anyone tell you not to talk shop when I'm getting some.'
Cordelia put the jar down on the desk and wiped her hands on her skirt.
'Couldn't anyone have said demon poo *before* I picked it up?'
'Oh it can't hurt you,' said Wesley, reaching for a book on the shelf. 'Only the demon itself is dangerous.'
'How dangerous?' asked Doyle.
Wesley sat down at the desk with his tome, flicking through to the right page.
'You've heard of Lizzie Borden. She killed her parents with an axe?'
'Child's play,' muttered Spike.
Cordelia glared at him.
'I remember the children's rhyme. And how come they're all full of death and cradles falling, and mice getting tails cut off?'
'Facts of life, Pet,' said Spike. 'They weren't supposed to be nice, they were supposed to be a warning.'
'Against eggs falling off walls?'
'Against strangers and such,' grinned Spike. 'Blood's always been a common theme in children's stories.'
'Oh,' said Cordelia. A thought seemed to strike her. 'And the mice?'
'Dunno, Pet. Beware of farmer's wives?'
Angel chuckled.
'What?'
'I think you're probably right. All the farmer's wives I've ever...'
'Eaten?' asked Cordelia.
'...Met,' said Angel pointedly, 'Didn't take kindly to strangers.'
Cordelia shrugged.
'Anyway, the whole thing needs a rating system. Don't you think?'
Wesley shook his head; he'd found the page he was looking for.
'Well anyway, what the rhyme doesn't say is that she was possessed by an Ethros demon.'
'An adolescent one,' murmured Angel. 'With this much plakticine, we've got ourselves a grown up.'
'Which would explain all this,' said Doyle, laying out the printouts next to Wesley's book.
'Oh my,' said Wesley. 'A family friend went missing.'
Cordelia nodded.
'They've moved about a lot.'
'Let me guess,' said Angel. 'Couldn't shake the black cloud.'
'Like it was fitted with chin straps.'
Spike sat down on the desk, reading the papers.
'Someone in that house is possessed,' said Wesley, 'We're going to need to do an exorcism.'
'Animal deaths?' murmured Spike as he read.
'Oh yeah,' said Cordelia. 'Like everywhere they went, more bodies.'
'Not human though,' mused the vampire.
'Spike?'
Angel walked over to where Spike sat and looked as the vampire ran his finger down the suspicious circumstances.
'What is it?'
Spike reached in his pocket and lit up a smoke.
'Ethros demon - mass murdering psycho?'
'Like you, yeah,' said Cordelia. 'What of it?'
He lit the cigarette.
'If I was possessing someone, I'd be doing a whole lot more than butchering rabbits.'
'What are you getting at?' asked Doyle.
'What I'm getting at, Pet,' said Spike, inhaling deeply, 'Is that none of this says Ethros demon to me.'
'But the plakticine?' said Wesley.
'Oh, I'm not denying that some bugger's got an Ethros sitting on its shoulder. But there's worse things than possession.'
'Like you,' repeated Cordelia.
'Or,' said Spike, 'Like someone with the deep down crazies.'
The stared at him and he calmly finished his cigarette. Wesley shook his head.
'That's a big leap you're taking. We have the evidence.'
'Yeah,' said Spike, 'of evil. And of an Ethros. Trust me though, you don't have to be possessed to torture stuff.'
Angel looked down, wondering if his childe was right.
'Let's just deal with the Ethros first.'
Cordelia picked up the phone.
'Who are we exorcising though? Which one's the demon?'
Angel shook his head.
'The father seemed kind of off. They were afraid of him.'
'A father doesn't need to be possessed to terrify his children. He just has to...' Wesley trailed off, aware that he'd been revealing too much. He caught Angel's pitying glance and steeled himself. He was more than that man had ever expected.
'We'll find out soon enough. The first step in confronting the demon is getting him to show himself. A little psylis eucalipsis powder ingested by the host...'
'And what?' asked Cordelia. 'Dad goes grr and his head spins around.'
She stared at them.
'Are we talking pea soup here?'
Spike grinned and lit up again.
'If it is, pet. I'll get them to aim in your direction.'
*
'Are you sure you want to do this?'
Vampires are adaptable creatures by nature. They have learnt to evolve with time and envelop the new trends and attitudes in order to survive. Those who do not, die. It's an easy choice.
Spike raised an eyebrow at his lover and stretched his arms. The decision he'd made tonight had been less easy to make. But he had to know. He didn't like being scared of anything.
'Yeah, I'm sure, let's go meet the family.'
They climbed out of the car; Angel carrying the brownies Doyle had made earlier. Cordelia had given him the recipe and he'd removed anything that he was pretty sure would kill them. What she didn't know wouldn't harm him or anyone else as long as he was cooking. Spike itched his collar. This getup sucked, but he could hardly turn up looking like his sire's vampire lover and expect to be invited in.
So he'd asked Cordelia to help him pick out some clothes, which had helpfully distracted her from Doyle's culinary attempts. Wesley was busy elsewhere trying to find a priest, with little success. Secretary of the Year she may not be, but Cordelia was a shopping Queen by nature and found within moments, everything that Spike needed to appear the genial Englishman. When he looked down at himself, he found he looked mildly like Wesley - with attitude.
Now, as he made his way to the door behind Angel, he worried that he shouldn't have come. It was a momentary worry though; Spike was used to making split second decisions and had long since quit questioning his judgement. His instincts had told him to face down the demon and as far as he was concerned, there was only one way to do that.
The mother opened the door as Angel presented her with the brownies.
'I brought these,' said Angel.
She smiled at him and looked past the vampire to Spike.
'And I brought him.'
Spike stepped forward, his bad boy grin in place and felt the woman's heart beat faster, her blood rushing through her veins. He was used to women, (and some men, for that matter) reacting to his attraction, but it was the first time he'd hyped it up for someone he wasn't planning to eat.
'Nice to meet you, Love,' said Spike, 'Angel here promised to show me what a real American dinner is like and since he's cr....not so good at cooking a roast, he brought me along to you.'
She looked at him, slightly stunned and then up to Angel.
'He's my cousin,' Angel explained. 'He just came over today. If it's a problem, we can...'
'No, no,' said Paige. 'I've got plenty. Come in, make yourself at home.'
The vampires walked into the house and started to look around. Seth appeared at the door and glared at them both.
'I don't remember you.'
Spike checked the pulse at the side of Seth's neck. Yeah, it was throbbing all right. And if he did turn out to be a demon and they couldn't get rid of the Ethros, he would always make a tasty snack. He could feel Angel's gaze on him and fixed his smile in place. Snack later; time to make nice with the meat.
'Pleased to meet you, Sir,' said Spike, his accent becoming crisper and, to Angel's amusement, something like Wesley's. 'I'm William Jennings...from England.'
'Yeah,' said Seth, shaking the vampire's hand, 'I got that.'
'William's a guest of Angel's,' said Paige. 'I said there was more than enough to eat.'
She looked at Seth and both vampires read the pleading look on her face. Please say yes. Please be nice. Please don't do anything to upset them.
'Fine,' said Seth, 'Why don't you two come on through.'
*
The dinner was pleasant, by Spike's standards. The one thing he'd missed since England was a good roast. Whilst he'd been alive it was a treat on Sundays after church. His mother had cooked up a huge batch of Yorkshire Puddings and loads of mushy veg and they'd all tucked in. It was something he'd not done after he was turned, but the tradition, along with the distinct taste of the food had stayed with him.
'More brussel sprouts, William?'
'Ta, Love,' said Spike, heaping some more onto his plate.
He looked up to see Angel wincing, presumably thinking that if he ate any more carbohydrates their bedroom was going to reek. Spike, rediscovering the consequences of food in all its glory, didn't care. Paige had approximated his mother's cooking wonderfully. He'd waved a potato at Angel and grinned when the vampire had refused to react.
'For you, Angel?'
The dark vampire shook his head.
'No thank you, I'm full. Everything was...very good.'
'The roast was a little dry,' remarked Seth and Spike raised an eyebrow at the public insult of his wife's cooking. Angel leapt in pleasantly.
'No, it was full of...roasty goodness.'
He caught Spike's eyes and a moment passed unnoticed between them. He'd got that phrase, or at least its composition from the Slayer and they both knew it. One of these days they'd have to have that talk and neither vampire was looking forward to it.
'I'll go get the coffee,' said Paige and left the table, Seth following with a suspicious glance at the vampires.
After the adults had left the room and Spike had polished off the last of the veg, they sat there, two age-old demons and two children, regarding each other from across the table. Ryan spoke first.
'I didn't like the brussel sprouts. They were gross.'
Angel smiled and looked at Stephanie.
'You seemed to like yours.'
When she folded back her napkin and revealed the uneaten vegetables, Angel laughed and Spike grinned, relieved at this humanity. Angel leaned forward conspirationally.
'I buried one in my mashed potatoes, too.'
The children laughed and Spike wondered if he was wrong. Stephanie had seemed like any other kid this evening. He admitted to himself that it was a long time since he'd had to deal with any children. He'd never been like Angelus, taking anything that happened to get in his path, and he wasn't claiming any virtuosity, he was a demon with a demon's needs. But Spike had never eaten children. They just didn't have enough blood in their system to sate the vampire.
It was only that which stopped him. There wasn't any other reason.
Certainly not a conscience.
Seth walked back in as the children giggled and stared at them.
'What are you laughing at?'
'Angel's funny,' said Stephanie.
'Really?' said Seth, sitting back down. 'He hides it well.'
Spike growled quietly and tensed his hands on the table, refusing to meet his lover's eye. Paige had come back in with the brownies and looked at him.
'Are you all right William?'
'I'm fine,' said Spike, before remembering his chosen role. 'Thank you. I'm fine, I just choked on something.'
'Are you sure?' she asked again.
Nothing a little neck wouldn't cure, thought Spike to himself and he did meet Angel's gaze then, knowing that his sire had read his mind. He looked at Paige again and offered her his patented seduce a wench smile.
'Really, I'm fine, Love. That coffee smells good.'
She poured him out a cup and Spike wondered if she'd be prepared to give Cordelia lessons. Then he grinned at the absurdity.
'Kids, look what Angel made us,' said Paige offering the brownies round.
They each took one and whilst Angel's gaze never faltered from Seth's face, Spike watched the children, his own childhood coming back to haunt him. He could remember being cruel. He could remember catching pets and cruelly dismantling them. He could remember the evilness inherent in his play. Everyone said children could be cruel. No one remembered that it could be more than that. Children could make the evilest demon seem tame.
'No hot chocolate for you tonight kids, this is your treat.'
The children both complained and Spike watched as Stephanie tasted the brownie and put it next to her discarded brussel sprouts. She was watching him intently, her pretty girl face aware she was being scrutinised. She shot him that same peaceful gaze that she'd used the night before and Spike remembered something he'd almost forgotten. Children were less easy to prey on because they *did* believe in things that went bump in the dark.
Angel watched as Seth took a bite. He started coughing and the vampire was almost gratified to find the terror in such an easy way. When Stephanie started screaming, he was unprepared and Spike almost shot across the table to hold the boy down.
'Ryan?' asked Paige, moving to hold him. 'Ryan, baby, what's wrong?'
'Ryan's bad,' sobbed Stephanie. 'Ryan's always been bad.'
'Stephanie,' said Seth and his daughter fled the room.
The boy collapsed onto the table and Spike picked him up, cradling the sleeping child in his arms, as Paige stroked his face, weeping at the change in her son's form.
'Paige, it's all right,' said Angel, determined for her to hear. 'He's okay.'
Paige pulled at Ryan, trying to draw him into her arms like the baby he had once been.
'What do you mean he's okay!'
'I had to get the demon to show itself first.'
She whirled on him and Angel was aware that a mother's ire is almost as scary as any demon he'd met.
'You did this to him?'
She grabbed the boy out of Spike's arms and held him close.
'The demon was already there,' said Angel, trying to explain. 'I just used the brownies to...'
She rocked the boy back and forth as he lolled against her.
'You put something in our food? You poisoned him?'
Angel opened and closed his mouth, aware that he was one step away from falling on his knees and begging forgiveness. He felt Spike's hand on his shoulder and calmed, knowing that they could only help now that the problem was visible. It has to hurt to heal, someone whispered in his memory and he shrugged it down, agreeing with advice, unwilling to remember who'd said it.
She was glaring at him.
'What were you thinking?' she shook her head, 'I thought you were here to help us. You're not an angel at all.'
He hung his head, but help has a way of being unexpected and Seth calmed his wife before turning to the vampires.
'You can help my son?'
Spike looked at the child and wondered. They could get rid of the demon...maybe, but there was something ingrained here. Something that went beyond the supernatural. Something entirely human.
Angel nodded at Seth.
'All right. Answered the boy's father, tension visibly draining from his face. 'What do you need?'
'A phone,' said Angel.
*
When they arrived back at the office, Wesley was looking worried.
'We've found a priest, but I haven't actually been able to get in contact with him'
'Its fine,' said Angel, picking up a blanket. 'Cordelia, you and Doyle stay here whilst we go find him.'
The girl walked up to the parents, smiling brightly.
'Hi, I'm Cordelia, sorry about the possession and everything.'
Angel rolled his eyes and started to head out again. Spike caught his arm.
'I'm not going.'
'Why?' asked Angel, 'You'd prefer to stay here?'
Spike looked at the child, sleeping on the bed. The nature of evil was very familiar to him, but something was going to happen. He could smell it, and he wasn't letting anything infiltrate the bed he shared with his lover.
'I'll just make sure the others don't fuck up.'
Angel shrugged and headed out to the elevator, Wesley traipsing after him.
Spike walked back into their bedroom, watching as Cordelia marked out the binding circle. As a vampire he was supposed to be in favour of evil and destruction and in certain times and places, he was all for it. He liked a bit of chaos, liked the terror and the sweetness as people ran scared. He had no regrets about his feeding habits. He was what he was and, since humans tended to off each other anyway - he'd been in enough wars to know that - he'd prefer it if they were a good meal first.
He watched as Cordelia moved Seth and Paige into Angel's kitchen and as Doyle started making the coffee. They were busy, they had things to do and Spike was fine with that. He just wasn't prepared to let the boy stay in here alone.
'What are you?' he asked of the sleeping figure. 'And why am I about ready to drop a load because of it?'
Ryan slept on.
*
Angel had dreamt about church. Much of it had been confused rememberings of Sundays with his family, experiences that added to his usual bout of sorrow when he woke up. Of course, he was usually prompted to action of a different sort when Spike's lazy grin widened and for that moment, his remorse was tempered. That moment, and, if Spike was in a particularly good mood, several moments later.
And if he was in a bad mood, several hours later.
Normally, the prospect of his lover and that oh so educated body would bring a smile to the vampire's face, but there was something about entering a church that made any creature of the night sober up. And this wasn't some tacky little preacher house. This was all out Catholic warfare on sinners. So much bigger than the buildings of his youth, but somehow, encompassing all the fear and reverence that they had contained.
Wesley, unfettered by such challenging memories was at peace with himself. England was no longer a country ruled by religion and despite his school's strict assembly preachings, the students had left with little concept of practised belief. It had all been mixed in between announcements of house competitions and Wesley could remember mishearing a statement by the headmaster, that God would be playing soccer on Thursday for West House.
As a consequence, and because of his own vague beliefs, Wesley had a scholar's view of religions. He knew the practises, saw the rituals and understood the concepts, but he did not believe. He had no grounds to and the idea that a benevolent and kind God could place man in such mortal danger disturbed him. However, because of his knowledge of evil, he was more than prepared to accept that belief itself was a powerful weapon and as he saw the nun praying, his confidence that they could beat this depravity grew.
She turned to look at them both, her face scrutinising the couple as they approached her. She watched as Angel's gaze kept shifting to the crucifix above them both and nodded sagely. Wesley smiled at her and began.
'Ah, sister? Good evening. Sorry to disturb your prayers.'
She looked at him, and he backshifted, a habit he'd grown into long before he was a man.
'I hope we didn't make you lose your place.'
'Not at all. How can I...'
She watched Angel again and her expression calmed.
'You would come into a place of worship?'
Angel looked at her and wished he could confess. But he could not. Some things are not available to the unclean. Yet still...
'I'm not what you think.'
No one ever is, mused Wesley. He looked up as the nun proved her perception and saw the shape in the shadows. There was someone there, watching them both.
'Okay, well maybe I am,' said the vampire. 'But I'm trying to help someone. A child. He's possessed by an Ethros demon.'
Wesley stared into the aisle, seeing the shadow move forwards, trying to hear what was being said. He saw a whisper of brown hair across the delicate plane of a cheek, but before he could see any more, he was discovered and his shadow moved backwards, away from his sight, melting into the darkness once more.
'He's out behind the church,' said the nun lighting a candle.
'Thank you,' said Wesley before turning back to Angel. 'Progress at last!'
'The last grave on the left.'
'He's...the father's dead?'
And with that answer, Wesley offered a silent prayer for their hopes. Father Fredericks had been his only option, the exorcism having fallen under such scrutiny, both inside the church and out, that most priests refused to even entertain the idea. They had promised to help the child, but their options were...not running out, they had ceased to exist.
He could only see one further course of action and the severity of the act frightened him in a way that vampires no longer did. He sighed inwardly as he recognised his failure. In a way, he was worse than Angel, because the vampire had managed to find a way to compensate for his actions. Wesley, failed watcher, failed son; failed demon hunter had only accomplished what his father had predicted.
'Wesley?' asked Angel, 'Are you all right?'
And the twist, the real kick in the tail was that there was something that he had done. Wesley had found employment with the only vampire who fought on the side of good. He lived with a seer, someone he trusted and with whom he still had unresolved feelings. He had begun to understand, not only Spike's reason for helping them, but how Angel could exist alongside the barbaric creature. He had become part of a family, and if that family comprised of various demonic entities, then so be it.
He would not fail them.
'Wesley?'
The demon hunter turned to Angel and frowned.
'We're going to have to do it.'
*
'Mommy? Where are you? I'm scared...I need you...Are you there?'
Spike got to his feet and saw Paige; desperate to move towards the body that housed her son. He said nothing, but closed the door between them all, shutting himself in with the demon.
'You shouldn't have done that,' growled the demon on the bed.
'Shut a door?' asked Spike. 'Why? You afraid you won't be able to get your mitts on Mummy?'
Ryan shifted, so that his gaze was firmly on the Englishman.
'You're a vampire.'
'Burr!' said Spike, 'Score one for the squatter. Any other information, Pet? Only I'm missing ER for this.'
Ryan turned his head, as if listening to something.
'You're afraid of me.'
Spike shook his head.
'I'm not bloody afraid of anyone!'
Ryan grinned.
'I can smell your fear.'
'That's just my after-shave, Pet. Eau de horny Angel.'
The boy listened again.
'He pities you.'
'Who? The jolly green giant?'
Ryan stared deep into the vampire's eyes. If he'd had a soul, the boy would be seeing it in all its worried glory right now.
'You love him completely and he pities what you have become. He cannot turn you away, for fear of what you might do, but he does not love you.'
Spike sniffed and lit a cigarette.
'You say potahto and I say potayto. Love's hard to pin down.'
Ryan laughed.
'You've never kept anyone you've loved. They've all left you in the end.'
'Love's bitch,' said Spike as he shook out the match. 'It's who I am.'
He stared at Ryan, as if admitting his fallibility he had flummoxed the demon, but Ryan only smiled and Spike didn't know what he was facing down.
He bit his lip at the next words.
'Don't worry about the next world. You'll always have me.'
Drusilla.
He almost dropped his cig.
'Yeah, very funny, Pet,' he said without a stroke of humour in his voice, 'Parlour tricks. Used them myself, once or twice.'
He stood up and circled the demon child slowly.
'Just how scared are you?'
Ryan stared at him.
'I don't need to be scared. I existed before they had a name to call me.'
Spike snorted.
'So you're fucking old! Well, here's news, Precious, you haven't got any bloody wiser in all eternity.'
He leaned closer; making sure his feet had not broken the circle.
'If you were as powerful as you keep claiming, you'd be killing everything in sight.'
He grinned.
'Which begs the million dollar question, who really does the animal mutilations round here?'
Ryan snarled and Spike laughed, before settling down back in his seat.
'You haven't got the balls, mate.'
The door opened next to him.
'Spike?' asked Angel and despite his claims to the contrary, Spike hadn't been so pleased to see his lover since...oh...this morning.
'I'm here,' growled the vampire. 'Have you got the priest cause he's beginning to annoy me.'
Wesley stepped into view and Spike took in the accoutrements.
'Oh, Weasly's having a bash, eh?'
Wesley raised an eyebrow, but ignored the vampire and stepped into the room, opening the book and beginning the ritual. Angel watched him for a moment and then turned to Spike.
'Did he say anything to you?'
Spike saw the obvious concern in Angel's eyes and smiled softly.
'I'm fine, Pet.'
'You sure?'
Spike looked past him to the demon who laughed at Wesley's efforts.
'Can't leave Weasly alone, Love. He's gonna need your help.'
'Is there anything I can do?' asked Doyle.
Spike looked at the half-demon, but his gaze was fixed on Wesley and the crucifix. Something there still, thought Spike, there's something...
Angel looked at them both and thought.
'Did you and Cordelia come up with something?'
Doyle nodded.
'There's something called an Ethros box.'
'Stores the bugger, right?'
Doyle nodded.
'Cordelia's gone to try and get one.' He looked to Seth and Paige, watching as they faced the pain of not knowing. 'I wouldn't be them for the world.'
'Seer!'
They turned to the bed. Ryan was twitching his head, watching them all with a grin.
'You have failed them both, and you haven't the guts to show it.'
'What?' said Angel, but Ryan was staring at Doyle.
'He's not going to mind. Wesley won't mind.' purred Cordelia's voice from within the child, 'Why did we wait so long lover?'
Wesley spun to the man, hurt written all over his face.
'That's not true, is it?'
Doyle looked down before meeting Wesley's gaze.
'I'm sorry man, she just...'
Wesley gaped, then seemed to draw himself together and stood straight, turning his attention back to the possessed child. But it was busy enjoying itself with its taunts.
'All those hours locked up under the stairs and you still weren't good enough. Not good enough for Daddy, not good enough for the Council.'
Spike stepped between Wesley and Ryan and grinned.
'Gonna have to try harder than that, Pet.'
It snarled at him, but the vampire could smell the fear.
'So what if Weasly's dad was an arse. It doesn't make him the big turkey you're trying to throw out.'
Ryan moved to the edge of the bed and stared at the vampire, speaking in Wesley's voice.
'Why don't you tell them how you're planning to kill them?'
Spike laughed and turned to the stunned man behind him.
'It's not true,' said Wesley.
'No?' said Ryan. 'He's more afraid of you than me.'
'I'll show you fear!' yelled Wesley and thrust the cross forward, intending to press it against Ryan's chest.
Spike stuck an arm out and gripped the cross, the pain searing his bones. Angel rushed forward instinctively, wanting to take the pain away, but Spike was holding on tight, bearing Wesley's weight and the heat that throbbed in his hand. As the demon hunter regained his balance, the vampire relinquished his grip and turned back to the bed, holding his outstretched hand. Doyle gasped as the burnt impression of the crucifix caused Ryan to draw back.
'I've faced my bloody fears, Ethros! And I know that you talk bollocks! We all know the truth ain't pleasant, and none of us give a damn!'
Spike grinned, the pain throbbing in his hand.
'Thing is, Pet, we're not the ones stuck to an effing bed, are we?'
Ryan howled and Spike turned back to Wesley.
'Do it.'
Wesley blinked and stepped forward, reciting the Latin perfectly.
'I got the box!' said Cordelia, bringing it to the door.
Angel reached for Spike and closed his hand in his own, searing the burn mark against his palm. He was proud of his childe, but not because he'd faced the demon down. Every step Spike had taken toward this point had been unsure and worrying, but Spike had protected Wesley, had demonstrated his responsibility to them all. He could deny it all he wanted, but he was a part of the good fight. And if redemption was a long way off, he had made a choice.
Spike looked at his sire, a cocky grin etched across his face.
'Don't you go getting soppy on me, Pet.'
'I wasn't,' said Angel, before smiling at his lover. 'Well, okay, maybe a little.'
'Guys? Exorcism?'
'Later,' winked Spike.
The vampires held the box between them as Wesley picked up the pace.
'Abrenuntias satanae?'
'Do you renounce Satan?' translated Angel.
'Et omnibus operibus eus?'
'And all of his works?'
'Omnibus pompis eus?'
'And all his pomps?'
'Exorcie te. Omnis spiritus immunde. Adaperiae!'
'Now get the Hell out?' smirked Spike to Angel.
The demon glowed and writhed on the bed before something whooshed past the humans and shattered the box. Ryan fell back against the bed and Paige rushed in to comfort him, her husband following quickly.
'I did it,' said Wesley questioningly.
'Did good, man,' said Doyle slapping his shoulder.
Wesley turned and glared at the half-demon, expressing in one look what words could not. Doyle took his hand away and stepped back.
'I'm sorry, Wes.'
Wesley ignored the softly spoken words and walked to Cordelia.
'There's a show on at the Grand this evening. I thought perhaps you and Doyle might appreciate the tickets.'
He walked up into the office, catching Angel's glance as he passed. The vampire wasn't surprised to see his own longing look reflected there, but he didn't know who the demon hunter was thinking about. It might not be Cordelia, he thought.
Spike picked up his half of the splintered box.
'I think we can officially say, "Oh fuck!" at this point.'
Angel moved away and looked at the walls.
'We didn't get it,' he said.
'No shit, Sherlock.'
Angel shook his head and looked at the hugging trio on his...their bed.
'We should send them home and look for this thing.'
'Wouldn't be too fast about that, Pet,' said Spike.
'Huh?' said Cordelia, 'We got rid of the big nasty. They're evil free these days.'
'Oh really, Love?' said Spike.
He walked towards the bed and looked at the family.
'That demon wasn't powerful enough to do any of the stuff that's happened to you lot.'
Seth looked up at him.
'What?'
Spike took a smoke from his pocket and lit up slowly as Ryan looked past his mother to the matches in his hand.
'Ethros demons kill, but they don't do animals. It's beneath them.'
'What are you saying, Spike?' asked Angel.
Spike breathed out and waved the match out, watching as Ryan followed the heat.
'Someone's been killing in your house, but it ain't a demon, Pet.'
'You got rid of the thing that's been making Ryan do these things. He's fine now,' said Paige, tears streaking her face.
'Well he's demon free,' agreed Spike, 'But he ain't fine, Love.'
'My son, is a good boy,' she snarled at him. 'He's...'
Seth stood up and shook his head.
'You said that if we did this it would be over.'
'Fine,' said Spike, 'Don't believe me.'
He walked over to the kitchen table and sat down; aware he was the centre of attention.
'Go back to your happy little lives, settle down and wait until he gets bored one evening and kills you all.'
He paused and lit up another match.
'Only if he does, pet. Call me first, because I could do with watching a good massacre.'
'Spike!' snarled Angel. 'Not helping.'
'No?' said Spike. 'Fine then, Love. Send them home. Doesn't bother me.'
Ryan climbed out of Angel's bed.
'Ryan, Honey?'
He walked towards Spike.
'Ryan?'
Spike waved the match in front of the kid.
'Killing without conscience. I think the lab coats call it psychotic.'
Ryan watched as the match moved from side to side.
'It's an easy way to live.'
Ryan reached for the burning match.
Spike closed his hand around the flames.
'Get him to the coats before he kills you all.'
*
'Well that was...'
'A shitty day?'
Spike sat on the bed counting out the remainder of his smokes.
'Fuck, down to seven. Need to get some more.'
He got up and slung his coat on, moving to the door before he heard Angel laughing.
'What?'
The dark vampire cleaned the last of Ethros off his axe and turned to his lover. The family had left quickly after Spike's revelation, Paige cursing his name as she held her son. She refused to believe there was anything wrong with her son, but he thought he saw a different truth in her eyes. Seth said nothing, but he shook the vampire's hand and Angel guessed that he would at least get the boy checked out. They may not have solved the problem, but they had brought it into the open.
The Ethros demon had been another matter. It hadn't taken them long to track the beast down, and when it had spoken, it had only confirmed what Spike had suspected. Ryan's soul was a lost cause, a child who committed acts without reason, or morality. Cordelia had smart assed that it took one soulless evil guy to know another soulless evil guy, but however they put it, Spike had been right and they could only hope that Seth did something before it was too late.
Cordelia and Doyle had left soon after for the show, the girl thanking Wesley with a kiss. Doyle had been less appreciative, but they had exchanged a look before he shook the man's hand. Wesley was many things, but a sore loser was not one of them. He stayed behind for a while after the others had gone, filing and generally making himself busy. When Spike had hinted, (read 'Weasly, get your arse out, I wanna shag the boss!') he had bid them both goodnight and headed out into the dark.
And now, Spike was getting ready to go out and buy some smokes. Angel couldn't help but grin at the domestication of the vampire. Less than a month ago, Spike had refused to even entertain the concept of paying for anything, preferring to have Cordelia or Doyle do his dirty work for him. He'd understood the concept of money, taking a salary from Angel without any qualms, but had been a little less happy about parting with it. Still, here he was, ready to go and donate some of that hard earned cash to a scared tobacconist.
'What?' repeated Spike.
'Nothing,' said Angel, 'Come home soon.'
'Very domestic, Pet,' said Spike with a grin. 'Get the tea on by the time I get back, Love!'
Angel snorted and put the axe down.
'I was thinking, more of lying naked on the bed, with a bowl of vanilla ice cream and no spoon.'
He walked across to the bed and its freshly changed sheets. Slowly, Angel slid off his top and pulled down his pants, kicking both items to the chair. He felt Spike's naked body pressed against his back and grinned, wondering how the English vampire managed to strip so quickly and silently.
'I thought you were going out to buy more smokes.'
Spike chuckled.
'Can't get the hang of not biting the owner.'
'You can't bite.'
'No?'
Angel moaned deeply as he felt Spike's teeth between his shoulder blades. The cut was shallow, but the vampire sucked hard and Angel felt his blood flow into his childe's mouth.
'Can't bite, huh?'
Angel laughed softly.
'You're not doing so bad.'
'Mm? How about this?'
He felt the teeth sink into his ass and groaned hard, pressing back against Spike's mouth. The blood brimmed the younger vampire's mouth and he rubbed it gently against the tender cheeks.
'Better?'
Angel groaned.
'Much better.'
'And this?'
Oof!
'Ummm, keep going...'
Spike grinned.
'I love it when you're insatiable, Pet.'
'You just love a good shag.'
'That too, love, that too.'
*
Wesley waited at the top of the stairs for a moment before heading to the entrance.
He didn't want to catch the vampires flagrante, but he wasn't all that keen on going home. At some point he and Doyle would discuss what had happened between them and its lack of impact on the half-demon. He was hardly likely to be thinking about Wesley when he had the beautiful girl they'd both hankered after in his arms.
He sighed and picked up his bag of tricks, hearing the moaning and sighs from Angel's quarters. Whatever had happened, he didn't resent any of his friends. Happiness was something that happened so rarely and with the lives they lived, even rarer. He just wished that some of it would come his way every once in a while.
Ah well.
He paused as he walked towards the door.
There was someone there.
'Hello?'
The shadow moved backwards again, but Wesley wasn't in the mood to play games.
'Look, if someone's there, just say so.'
There was silence and then...
'I didn't mean to annoy you.'
Wesley squinted to see the owner of the voice, a rich toned English woman by the sound of it, but he could see very little.
'Come in, please,' he asked.
She stepped forward and Wesley felt himself catch his breath. She was garbed in jeans and a sweater, a bulky coat concealing whatever shape she might have. But her face was a delicate combination of light and shadows, its planes identifying her as the mystery figure in the church.
'And what can we do for you?'
She smiled and Wesley had a sense of de ja vu.
'I need your help,' she said, 'I'm looking for someone.'
Wesley laughed.
'Well, we do investigate here. Who would we be looking for?'
She met his eyes and he wanted to step back from her piercing glare.
'A murderer.'