Past, Present, Passé

The Clockwork Vampire Series IX

Author:Spirit

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'You've grown.'

Spike tried to peer back over his shoulder at Angel, but the vampire was sitting just out of his eye line. A cigarette in his mouth and a long glass of vodka dangled in one hand, Spike was feeling just peachy. And of course, Peaches was feeling him. Which made life so much more pleasant.

Safe in the knowledge that they'd finished with The Powers That Be for the night, (or so Spike claimed, pointing out that he wouldn't leave this flat if God himself were to turn up and demand it) the vampires had settled down for an evening of uninterrupted naughtiness. The English vampire had demonstrated a new technique for consuming chocolate fudge and both men were wearing contented grins. Worn out, at least for the moment, Spike had lain down on the velvet comforter and started singing softly as he practised his other favourite activities.

Angel had sat back in the bed, watching as his lover stretched out, the taut muscles in his ass flexing under the tattoo. The dark vampire lazily traced the pattern with his fingers, smiling gently as Spike twitched under the attention. He'd taken Spike's offer of a drink up for once, and sipped occasionally from the glass, tasting the bittersweet alcohol as it slid down his throat. Before Spike had arrived, Angel rarely ate human foods, depriving himself of their tastes and textures. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to digest a meal and with Spike's insistence that all food could be used in the bedroom he'd had to add toilet paper to their shopping list, a fact which had grossed out Cordelia.

'I thought there were some things vampires didn't have to do?'

'Your point?' asked Spike, with a barely disguised snarl.

She carried on, oblivious.

'I mean, I thought with the red blood cells and all, you guys could skip on the grosser side of life.'

Spike had laughed.

'Nothing like a Sunday morning with the paper, Pet.'

She had glowered at him and then, her mind rebelling against the scary, left with Doyle. Toilet paper had appeared in the bathroom without further comment, but Angel made sure nobody was about when he went in there.

The human world was a scary and disgusting place much of the time, with discomfort as much a part of life as pleasantries. Whilst Spike was obviously at home with all of this, Angel was less comfortable, feeling his way into a world which feared him. As Angelus, he'd been afraid of nothing; he'd taken on the world and won for several years. The price of such success was harsh, and although he reconciled himself that he had deserved it, the pain of caring had worked its suffering onto his body. He had spent so many years believing himself unworthy, that penance had become easier than pleasure. Unlearning that was harder than anyone could believe.

With Buffy, he'd eventually come to the conclusion that he was worthy of her love. He had tried so hard not to accept it, disgust washing over him at every turn. How can you love me, he'd wondered again and again, how can you love me when you know what I've done? But she had loved him in spite of his past, in spite of what he had done willingly without his soul. Without a conscience, he had been the most vicious of vampires, earning himself a title and reputation with his sanguinary tastes.

Without that freedom, he had been a creature of pity. He had been so burdened with his actions that he failed to function on any level. Not as a vampire and nowhere near a human. He was beneath contempt, seeking out the dankest and darkest places to hide, to contemplate what he had become. He was worthless to everyone, a whimpering creature just this side of insanity. If it had come, he would have welcomed it - anything was better than the malignant life he was leading.

He sometimes wondered if the Powers That Be had even concerned themselves with him then. For nearly a century he had done nothing and been no one. Surely at some point he would have tried to end his miserable existence? Angel had thought that he knew the reasons - that he was too cowardly to throw himself on a stake and because as a Catholic, he knew such actions would lead him to a fate worse than this. But now, in his more than comfortable life, he wondered if they might have a hand in that decision. Perhaps they had known all along what he might become, that his value was as then untapped.

And now? What was he now?

Spike growled softly as Angel stroked the supple flesh of his inner thigh.

Angel smiled softly as he heard the noise, recognising that love, in whatever form it presents itself, has its own value. He worked every day to rectify the balance between that which he had done and that which must be. He had left Buffy, in the belief that he was not good enough to be the Slayer's mate. About that, he was no longer so certain. Being with Buffy cost them both too much. Passion drove their relationship, but whilst Buffy believed in his new found goodness, she understood little about the creature he was. She was young and Angel tried to allow her that naivety, but her denial of his demon was more than that. Buffy listened and only took in what agreed with her vision of the world.

Despite what he had done to her without her soul and his admission that he had enjoyed every vile deed, she saw Angelus and Angel as separate entities, existing in spite of one another. Angel knew better. He knew that anything he'd done as Angelus had been without conscience, but had come from his own desires. Living as his darker side had been simpler, the demon's suggestions striking a chord within his sadistic heart. He had killed and tortured and maimed and as his dreams reminded him, it was only his soul that stopped him from enjoying everything about that time.

Buffy could never accept that. The tenderness, his hesitance in loving her was something she treasured and to believe that the same person could house such base intentions was beyond her. She knew what his soulless self was capable of and accepted the risk. He knew he was capable of the same things with a soul and didn't.

So what was he now?

He heard a soft purring and leaned over, smiling gently as he realised that his lover had fallen asleep. Angel took the glass and the burnt out cigarette and placed them on the side table, drawing Spike up the bed and covering them both. Spike nuzzled against his chest, the purring louder now and Angel waited until...there. The blond vampire flung one arm out behind him and wrapped the other possessively over Angel's chest. His legs were splayed, one covering Angel's own and the dark vampire grinned as his lover starfished across the bed. He resisted the urge to run his hands through Spike's hair, knowing it would probably be resented. Spike was the only one who could rouse him out of his brooding, but Angel still liked to spend time alone with his thoughts. Of course, and Angel kissed the smooth forehead and leaned back against the pillows - it was better to be alone in company.

He had wondered about his curse for a while now. Before, when he was alone and destitute, he'd had neither the energy nor the inclination to analyse why he had become, but since his recent excursion as Angelus, he'd given it some thought. He knew it was better for the world that he retain his soul, but he often longed for his simple existence as a vampire. It worried him sometimes that Spike had been able to make moral decisions that he'd never been able to as Angelus. As if he knew Angel was talking about him, Spike stirred slightly, and the older vampire rubbed his cheek against Spike's hair until he stilled again.

He had been told that a moment of perfect happiness, when his soul no longer plagued his thoughts, was enough to strip it from him. He knew now that it had been his own worthiness which had removed it from him before. Lying sated next to a woman who truly loved him and valued his existence had been enough to send that soul screaming into the night. The gypsies had determined that he should never live as a human, their revenge was both cruel and effective, keeping the vampire in a state between both worlds, neither dead nor living.

His redemption had come with his second cursing. Willow was a romantic, in spite of her pragmatism. Angel had little doubt that her ideal outcome would have been he and Buffy floating off into the distance, hand in hand, in love for all time. She had never intended vengeance, knowing it would have benefited no one. And so Angel had come back, grief refreshed and his guilt heightened once more. He had left the woman he loved, tried to help people without ever coming close enough to put any of them in danger.

It hadn't worked.

Spike growled again and Angel felt him move instinctively against his thigh. Angel throbbed in response, smiling to himself as his cock began to harden. Spike was an addiction he had no intention of giving up. And that was something he had never expected.

Doyle's appearance had hinted to him something that the Oracles had later clarified. He was a warrior of the good fight now, his atonement coinciding happily with the saving of souls. But he had to do more than just save them. He had been told that the best way to combat those Angelus feelings was to live as one of them. Become more human, they'd said. But Angel didn't know how to do that; it scared him to even think of it.

And yet...

He worked with Cordelia, Doyle and Wesley on a regular basis, becoming more than just their employer. He saw them as individuals, as he had the Scooby Gang back in Sunnydale. But he had slowly become involved with their private lives as well as at work. He regarded them as friends, something he hadn't had in over two hundred years. And although he knew that he was more comfortable away from people, he was growing more used to their presence. And there was of course, his unexpected bonus.

Angel couldn't think of any other circumstances under which Spike would have come to him and wondered how much choice any of them had with destiny. Possibly the only vampire he'd ever known with the capacity to embrace his emotions, the only vampire whose human persona was stronger than the demonic presence. This unique creature was subject to a muzzle effectively and, despite that, had retained his killer instinct and need for the kill. He'd just adapted to his situation, translating that aggression onto beings he could attack. If that happened to coincide with Angel's intentions, so be it. He was essentially a selfish individual, taking what he wanted and only helping out if it also suited him.

But there had been a subtle change in the vampire's attitude.

Spike had always been quite clear about his views on humanity. Some of them were entertaining, some were ideal vampires and some were a good fuck. But basically, they were all a meal waiting to happen. The vampire had been forced to reassess his priorities since his treatment and had found that since humans were no longer on the menu, he'd use his biting wit to do the damage. And it was almost as effective. But Angel knew that his view of Cordelia and the other two had changed.

When they fought demons, Spike always protected Angel. It was as much a part of the vampire as his Englishness and his cocky attitude. He regarded his mate as His absolutely, and anything that threatened that bond was to be destroyed or dealt with. Preferably the former. But Angel had noticed Spike protecting the others on occasion. Not all the time, or as a first priority, the way it was for Angel, but take that last time, when he'd clasped the crucifix. That had been of no threat to his lover, but Spike had done it anyway. Me and mine had apparently been extended to cover Wesley, Cordelia and Doyle.

As Spike started to wake up, Angel shrugged his thoughts away, knowing that the vampire would growl at the insinuation, and succumbed to other, more pressing urges.

Spike growled lazily and opened his eyes, stretching out as he woke up. He felt Angel's body against his own, reminding him why he wasn't biting down the neck of the Initiative. His hand slid down the firm body and brushed possessively across his thigh, feeling the hard column that throbbed against his fingers.

'Morning Love,' grinned Spike.

'It's three am, Spike.'

'Still qualifies as morning don't it, Pet?'

He rolled over, effectively pinning Angel beneath his own and stared down into deep brown and slightly sleepy eyes.

'You haven't had a wink, have you?'

Angel tilted his head and couldn't help the grin as Spike's hips pressed insistently against his own.

'I was...thinking,' he said.

'Brooding,' snorted Spike. 'I leave you alone for five minutes and you get your mopey head on!'

'I am not moping,' said Angel, tracing his fingers down the nubs of his lover's spine. 'I was just...'

'Moping,' said Spike pleasantly, arching against Angel's hand. 'Admit it.'

'Was not,' grinned Angel and felt Spike shift, his cock rubbing teasingly against his own. 'I was thinking about you.'

'Ah,' grinned Spike, 'That explains this hard cock I can feel.'

'And what were you dreaming about then?'

'Oh I was thinking about shagging me too, Pet.'

Angel laughed and lifted his hands free of Spike's body.

'Okay then, you don't need me.'

Spike grinned and grasped Angel's hands, leading them back to his ass.

'You'll do, Peaches, you'll do.'

Angel growled and rolled over, stretching Spike's hands over his head and coming within millimetres of kissing the man.

'I'll do what?' he growled seductively.

Spike bucked his hips up.

'Anything you bloody like, Pet!'

With a roar of pleasure, Angel sunk his mouth over his lovers, biting and nipping at the soft lips, plundering it with his tongue, tasting the alcohol and cigarettes and something that was uniquely Spike. His whole body smelled of it and Angel took his time stretching his tongue into every corner of the cool mouth. He could feel his fangs emerging and bit into the tender lip, suckling as the blood dripped into his mouth. Spike howled and sucked on Angel's tongue, his hips pressing up urgently against his sire's.

Angel pulled back, looking hungrily at the redness of his lover's lip. He watched as Spike ran a hungry tongue over the coppery liquid, his own demonic face visible. He wanted him now, wanted to possess him and pushed eagerly against the slender body. Spike growled and tilted his neck, offering more than just his throat. He grasped the bottle from the side table and emptied a good amount over his fingers, before sinking them between their bodies and clasping Angel's cock. The older vampire arched back and pushed into Spike's grip, wanting to fuck, wanting release and needing, loving the childe below him.

Spike was well aware what Angel needed and lifted his hips off the bed, unsurprised when he felt the inquisitive, vodka soaked fingers exploring the cavity. He moaned harshly when the first digit slid inside, groaned as it was joined by a second and roared when Angel crooked the tips, pressing the gland that wrought such pleasure. Angel pulled back and rubbed his alcohol-heated cock against the now slippery opening.

'Do you want me?'

'What kind of a question is that?' chuckled Spike, pushing up against the throbbing cock.

Angel pushed forward so that the head slipped inside Spike's ass, inside, but not past the tight ring of muscle.

'One that I'm asking right now. Do you want me?'

Spike howled and pushed up, forcing Angel's cock deep.

'I always fucking want you!'

Angel grinned demonically and thrust hard, feeling the tingliness of the vodka heating his cock. Spike was always so God damned tight, and when he flexed...like that...ohhh...he could cum in an instant. It felt so strange having a hot cock thrusting forward, but he liked it, liked it when he could feel Spike growling and groaning and reaching with his own fingers? Oh my God! Spike had managed to reach his ass, rubbing between his balls and his ass, that sensitive strip of flesh that drove Angel wild.

He growled again and pushed harder, feeling Spike tense and buck up against him, feeling his cock sink in and out of that perfect body, loving the way Spike seemed to anticipate his every need. He was as selfish as hell, everywhere but in bed and Angel had never needed anyone more.

'Will,' he groaned, 'Always you.'

Spike barely heard. He could feel his cock pressing between them, throbbing in anticipation and the promise of a good cum, desperately trying not to. He had his own plans now and none of them included coming all over Angel's chest. Oh no, Spike intended to fill that tasty behind with his fluid and several other tasty substances besides. Now all he had to do was make the big vampire thrust harder and faster and pump...ohh God, yeah, like that, and when he'd come he'd tell him how much he loved the big bugger and ...oh God!

'Angel...' he moaned and grasped for the larger man's hips, pulling him closer, wanting to touch his face, bite on that neck, give him everything he had.

As Angel's fangs sank deep into the white neck Spike let out an unearthly howl before reaching to the skin before him and drinking from his sire. And all the time the pounding in his hips was so strong, so powerful and Angel was growing closer and he could feel it, the tension building and his blood slipping into his lover's mouth, drinking down the iron laden taste of Angel's blood sliding down his throat. This was passion, this was power and he fought against the climax he was sure would come if he didn't try and oh God...Angel...oh now...now, now!

Angel drew his blood-smeared lips away from Spike's neck and screamed as his orgasm throbbed through him, filling his lover's body with each thrust. It took almost a minute to empty himself and as he fell forward onto the prone body, Angel kissed the wound he'd just inflicted, grinning at the pleasure of making love to this vampire. He could feel a low purr coming up through his body and sighed, feeling happiness he'd never expected to experience.

He nuzzled against Spike's neck, feeling the younger vampire biting at his body, his tension still apparent and Angel licked the wound clear, watching as the blood slowly welled up in the teeth marks. He looked at Spike's face and read the passion there, still sizzling. He slipped out of the vampire and kissed him lip, suckling lightly on his lower lip, drinking the last of the nectar there.

'You held back?'

Spike grinned and kissed his sire hard.

'Yeah, Pet. I had plans for this shag.'

Angel smiled and tasted Spike in his mouth.

'What kind of plans?'

'Gonna let me up, Love?'

'And why should I do that?'

Spike pushed his cock up against Angel's belly and the vampire growled.

'That's a good reason.'

He rolled off and as he was about to grasp for Spike's cock, the vampire winked and jumped out of the bed, bending to his knees and pulling a box out from underneath it. Angel laughed and looked inquisitively at his lover.

'You *have* planned this. What's in there?'

'Wouldn't you like to know, Pet!'

Spike picked up the box and laid it on the bed. It was squarish and contained things Angel could only qualify as props. He'd had such an item back in his bad days, although, and he peered in curiously, he couldn't remember having anything like this in it. Angelus had owned a whole chest full of torture implements, designed to tease, torment and terrify the victim. The only way this lot would terrify is if they seriously didn't like Punk.

Angel pulled out a CD and a tub of hundreds and thousands.

'Why?'

Spike took the tub off him and gestured to the stereo.

'Put that on, would you, Love?'

Angel got up curiously, setting the mood with...

'Lovecats?'

Spike grinned and Angel listened in disbelief as The Cure washed over him again. He looked at his lover.

'Dare I ask why?'

'Simple, Pet,' said Spike getting to his feet and walking towards him predatorily. 'I was listening to some of them albums Doyle left and I found this.'

Angel listened to the decidedly upbeat and non-punk music and it's pretty lyrics. It was so NOT Spike, it was untrue, and yet it's sentiments were decidedly theirs. They were very catlike, taking what they wanted when they wanted it, selfish beasts with pretty faces. Vampires were lovecats. Nice analogy Spike. He looked up when he heard Spike joining in.

'Oh you know that I'd do anything for you...We should have each other to tea huh? We should have each other with cream Then curl up by the fire And sleep for awhile It's the grooviest thing It's the perfect dream.'

And all the while Spike moved forward with the tub in one hand and what looked to be a jar of double cream in the other. Angel backed up, nearing the fire and feeling the heat burning his ass. He saw the come-fuck-me-grin on Spike's face and shut one eye, wondering why he felt a rush of lust run down his spine and slam against the base of his cock. He shook his head.

'You're a dirty fuck, you know that, don't you?'

Spike grinned wider and was almost upon him, Angel refusing to shift back further, unwilling to give any more ground. He gave Angel a mock-hurt look.

'Me, Pet? It's only cream. You're not afraid of cream now are you?'

'No,' said Angel warily. 'I'm just don't really want to eat it.'

'And who says,' said Spike, scooping a handful out and slapping it round Angel's ass, splattering it all over his thigh and both cheeks, 'That you get to do anything with it?'

Angel laughed and felt the squelchy globs slip down his backside. Spike had the hungriest look he'd seen on his face and that rush was growing stronger. He could feel his cock hardening at the very thought.

'Lie down,' demanded Spike.

Angel looked at him a second, before complying. Back in the old days, Angelus had given all the orders, refusing to entertain any other authority. It was his right, a richly deserved bonus of being the nastiest vampire in town. But he didn't recognise the lore any more, and he considered Spike to be his equal, rather than his childe. Besides, and he grinned to himself as he felt the heat of the fire on one side, and Spike's cool body pressing against the other, there were some orders he liked going along with. He could feel the friction of the rug under his hips and groaned, pushing himself against it when the first of his lover's fingers pushed against his ass.

Spike looked at the outstretched body in front of him and grinned. There had been a time when he would never have asked anything of his sire, knowing that the bastard would do more than say no. He'd worn stripes across his back for asking more than his sire was prepared to give. In public, Spike was a favoured childe, but childe he was, obeying the lore as much as everyone else. If, in private, Angelus had shown him some leeway, it was a moment outside their lives, something they could tell no one.

And now?

Spike grinned and found the shaker full of tiny balls. He turned the top so that it was a small funnel and started to write his name in the cream. He grinned as he etched out Will on the thick substance, feeling Angel twitch and buck as he trailed his fingers over the cheeks. He could hear Angel stifling a laugh as he spoke.

'Are you marking me?'

'Yeah, Pet, seeing as I've worn your bloody name on my ass for a fucking lifetime, I thought you should have a go.'

Angel did laugh then.

'You're writing your name in hundreds and thousands?'

Spike sat back, and wondered whether to underline it.

'You got a problem with that?'

Angel rolled slightly and looked up at his lover.

'No, I just thought you'd like something more permanent.'

Spike looked at him then, reading the lust in the vampire's eyes and wondering just how serious he was. May as well take a chance.

'I'm not getting some bloody tattooist in here to play with your arse, Pet. You can forget that. This is mine!'

The last word came out as a growl and Angel felt himself twitch in anticipation. He reached for the ceremonial knife by the poker and passed it to his lover.

'Aren't you supposed to mark your property?'

Spike narrowed his eyes at Angel, wondering what level they were playing on. He'd been trying to tease the vampire, before driving him insane with lust and wanting. He'd felt the scar on his ass many times, knowing that his demon could have healed it, if it wished. It's tenuous hold on Spike's body kept him healthy and strong, but that mark, that tattoo had never altered since Angel had put it there. Some wounds never fade.

He took the knife and watched as Angel shot him a seductive grin, before turning back over and stretching out, his cream covered ass in front of him. Tracing the letters he'd recently etched in candy, Spike pressed the blade against Angel's skin. The dark vampire let out a sharp hiss as it sank deeply, blood welling at the cut, stark against the cream. Spike could feel himself breathing with a need he'd not felt in his vampiric existence. He dug down, carving a 'W' on the fleshy cheek and saw Angel's fingers open and close reflexively as he cut. 'I' followed, then both 'L's and Spike could hear himself, his erection throbbing against his lover's leg as the blood started to flow down the crease of Angel's ass.

Angel's growling had grown stronger and he could feel the hunger, feel the bloodlust and as Spike sank his teeth around the wounds in his ass, he howled, bucking hard under the vampire. Spike licked and suckled at the cut, blood and cream seeping into his mouth as he grasped his lover's hips, pulling him back against his mouth. He worked his fangs around the bleeding, licking and sucking and thrusting his tongue in his mark. His mark. He owned this body and he was willing to give everything to keep that ownership. He would fight the devil itself if it came down to it.

But now was for passion and Spike worked his way to the crease, gathering up the sticky fluids in his mouth, growling and pushing his tongue as Angel worked back against him. He reached the puckered opening and thrust his tongue forward, holding tightly to the dark vampire's hips, creating bruises he knew would be gone by morning. Swirling all the blooded mixture into his mouth, he teased Angel open and blew out, filling his body. Angel blinked, the heady knowledge that his ass was full of liquid and then soon, oh so soon, he would feel the pressure of his lover's cock as well. But for now, oh God! Spike had pushed more inside him and Angel could barely think. His hips bucked on some kind on unknown rhythm and he barely felt the heat anymore, just the need, the damned need to feel Spike inside him.

'Will,' he panted out, 'Now, fuck me now.'

Spike growled and pulled up, taking his throbbing cock in one hand and pressing against Angel's dripping hole.

'Mine,' he growled and sunk forward in one push.

He'd had passionate sex before. He'd been in love before, but Spike had never owned anything other than his pitiful life in his entire existence. And that had been taken from him. Drusilla had never truly been his, hankering after Angel in her insane way. Angelus had never belonged to him, caring more for prestige and feeding grounds than his own childe. But now, as Angel, such things no longer mattered and Spike was at the front of his lover's mind always. He thrust again and again, feeling the vampire rear and buck beneath him, his hips slamming up to meet his hungry body.

Climax was so close, and his bloodlust so strong. He bent forward, enclosing Angel's chest in his arms, reaching for the bared neck and sinking his fangs into the supple flesh. Angel howled again and Spike felt the throb build, each push grinding against his body with a welcome pressure. As the blood slid down his throat he burst forward, pulsating and growling as he came hard, flooding Angel's body with his cum, dimly aware that his sire had climaxed as well.

They fell forward, Spike sliding out and to Angel's side, panting hard and yet wanting to hold the man he loved. Angel's hands were on him immediately, drawing the vampire into his embrace. He kissed the open lips, tasting his own blood and staring deep into the dazed eyes of his childe. No, more than his childe, his lover. His Beloved.

'I love you,' he said, trying to read the acceptance in Spike's eyes.

There was a blurred moment when he thought Spike had missed it, but then the blond vampire smiled gently and kissed him.

'I know, you great Poof. And if I didn't feel the same way I wouldn't be here.'

Angel laughed and brushed Spike's hair back, seeing the depth of emotion in the eyes that once again shone blue.

'Yeah, I know.'

He felt the stickiness beneath them and groaned.

'This rug was an antique.'

'Still is Pet.'

Angel pulled him on top and started kissing the planes of his cheeks, easily childish in his affections.

'Yeah, but it didn't have such interesting stains on it before.'

Spike grinned.

'Adds to the value, Love. Who else has a mat with vampire cum all over it.'

Angel laughed then and hugged his lover tightly.

'You'll be the death of me, Spike.'

'Case of been there, tried that. Fucking you is much more pleasant.'

'Oh really?'

Spike growled softly before kissing him again.'

'Yeah, Love, really.'

'Ahem.'

The naked vampires turned to the stairs to see Wesley staring pointedly at the ceiling, a blush covering his cheeks. Angel moved to get up, but Spike's body was just too pleasant to leave, so he grabbed the throw from the sofa and draped it across them both.

'I thought you'd gone home, Wesley?'

'Yeah, Pet, or did you hang around for the floor show?'

Wesley raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

'I was leaving when a young lady arrived.'

Spike grinned wickedly.

'Nice one Weasly, keeping that hottie a bit quiet then?'

'No!' said Wesley, and then his tone softened, once again berating a naughty, but well liked child. 'She needs your services, Angel.'

'Which ones we talking about?' said Spike, rubbing his hand against Angel's still sticky ass. The vampire groaned and then grabbed the hand firmly, trying to keep his mind on the matter at hand. Not on the knowledge that he could spend eternity making love to this creature.

'Did you get all her details, Wesley?'

'Most,' said Wesley, chancing a look at the vampires, 'But she really needs to talk to you, Angel. It's a complicated case.'

'Why?' asked Angel. 'Is it urgent.'

Wesley laughed and took his glasses off.

'No, I would say not. She's looking for a vampire.'

Spike snorted and sat up.

'Let me guess, ate her family and she's looking for Angel to deliver a well-sharpened stake. No deal.'

'Spike,' said Angel warningly, 'Just hear him out.'

'Yes,' said Wesley, 'It's not that simple.'

'Well then talk, Peaches, or do I have to beat it out of you?'

Wesley stared at him, but Spike was too relaxed to comment.

'A member of her family was turned a long time ago.'

'She wants to kill them?' asked Angel, trying to follow.

'No,' said Wesley, 'She's looking for the vampire who made him.'
 

*
 

First blood was an intoxicating liquid, filling the mouth with a promise of what may be. There is nothing sweeter than that original taste and every kill from that moment forward is an attempt to recapture the first breath of vampire life. In some cases, it is sweeter than others.

Will had been coming back from a job that had gone well. In his pocket were a couple of fingers belonging to the presumably late Mr Hardcastle, that he was going to gift wrap and deliver to his widow. Silly bitches always liked a memento and since the rest of her husband was fish food by now, she'd have to make do with this.

It was a shame really, Hardcastle had once been a mate, a bloke he'd got drunk and shared his misspent youth with. They'd grown up on the same street, Will's father beating the crap out of him as Hardcastle's did the same. Boys with the signs of a stern telling off, they'd bragged about how tough they were, resisting the pain of a belt. Hardcastle had shown him the broken skin and Will had conceded that round, but it was the first of many, the dares growing increasingly more brutal as they aged. When they had progressed to knives, Hardcastle had scoffed he wasn't hard enough to take the pain. One big slash across his brow later, Will was feeling much better about the whole thing. The pain was bearable. It hurt like fuck, but it was bearable.

As they'd grown up, Will had become accustomed to being a criminal, revelling in the justification of taking from the rich. No Robin Hood he, unless you counted his family in amongst the needy. His father, bloated from a lifetime of alcohol abuse, had collapsed and died in the park one morning and his mother, thankful that she no longer suffered the brunt of his drunken attacks, had relied more on her sons to provide for them all.

Well-dressed and comfortable, Will gave no thought to the morality of his situation. If he didn't have, he took and if you were the unfortunate to be on the receiving end of his brutality, that was just your tough luck, mate. There were few rules. Don't steal from your own, don't get caught and never mouth off to anyone. Hardcastle had fallen foul of two of those, getting snatched on the last job and blabbing off to the pigs about a certain little hold up in Peckham. Stupid bloody bastard, Will had thought, couldn't keep your sodding mouth shut. Beyond that consideration, he'd given it no more thought, except to make sure his once-friend didn't pass out when he was cutting him.

Anyway, the job was done now and what Will really wanted was a good meal, a good drink and a shag with the dirtiest little bitch in the place. He walked back through the park, confident as always that he was the most dangerous thing in it, his pace easy and his sight fixed on the pub sign ahead of him. The King's Arms, it said. But they had no King and Will thought to himself that power was only ever in the possession of the strong, the most vicious and unscrupulous. Being born to wealth did not make you the big I am. Being born in squalor and getting out was far more worthy.

He sauntered past the tree he'd had his first kiss under, grinning to himself as he remembered how that had tasted, when he saw her. She was watching him from under the bower, a soft, dreamy expression on her face. He took in the expensive, yet old design of her dress and the lack of a wrap, exposing long slender arms to the night air and shrugged. Eccentric rich bint crossed his mind, but there was a look on her face that spoke of more than just delusion. He recognised the predatory expression and stepped a little closer.

'You lost, love?' he asked, totting up the value of the necklace draped round her neck.

'Lost?' she asked in a little girl voice, before looking into his eyes. Will bit down a sigh. She was beautiful, but it didn't seem to tell him anything. Usually, the pretty women he'd known had used their looks to an advantage, rich ones included. He didn't get that from her. She wanted something, but he had no idea what.

Maybe she was more than eccentric.

Maybe she was dangerous.

Yeah, right.

'Yeah, Pet,' he said in a cajoling tone, 'You don't seem to belong round here.'

'I don't,' she said, shaking her head. 'I don't belong anywhere.'

Will coughed into his hand, feeling the chill of the night and watched as she looked him over. He was a good looking bloke, that he knew, but the way she was looking at him...he felt like meat at a cattle auction.

'Look, Love,' he said decisively. 'Why don't you tell me where you live and I'll see you home. It's cold and I'm tired and you're not dressed for this weather.'

'I'm so cold,' she murmured and he sighed, before taking off his coat and wrapping it round her bare shoulders. What a bloody gentleman! Huh! She looked at him in confusion and he wondered if she really was a bit tapped.

'You got money, Pet?'

She nodded slowly and he breathed visibly in the night air, before taking her hand and walking to the nearest Bed and Breakfast. She was bloody cold and Will felt chilled, an idea that she was never warm teasing his mind. Her fingers felt so fragile beneath his own and he felt unwillingly protective, as if she might break if he didn't handle her right. So much for his dirty shag, he huffed and took her inside.

'What's your name, Love?'

She smiled at him then and he stifled a grin, seeing the inherent naughtiness in her expression. There was so much promise there, so much corruption waiting to happen and Will thought that perhaps tonight wouldn't be a loss after all.

'Drusilla' she smiled at him and he nodded.

'Well then, Drusilla,' he added pointedly, 'I'm gonna go have a drink. You can take a room here, put your feet up. Lance here,' he said, tapping the host on the shoulder, 'Will see you right.'

She looked at him then and he read the sadness inherent in her expression.

'You're leaving me?'

Lance grinned and gestured to the girl.

'Picked up a right one there, Will!'

Will grabbed the man by his collar and pulled him to snarling distance.

'Why don't you just shut your hole and get me and the young lady a drink?'

Lance blinked, he'd seen Will with women before, knowing that whilst he was a cold hearted bastard, he'd never treated a woman badly. His mother had seen to that. He gulped and nodded quickly, leaving the room as soon as Will put him down.

Drusilla watched him, seemingly entranced by what she saw. He was aggressive, which she liked and he had command, which she also liked, it reminded her of her sire and anything that did that...She smiled at him and he nodded cheerfully, knocking back the alcohol with relish. He knew she was watching him and grinned, knowing his reputation as a hardcase put off all but the most sadistic of women. Drusilla didn't look, or act like any of them. He was struck again by a neediness she gave out, but he still couldn't pin it down. He watched as she sipped from the glass, and grinned to himself as she tasted the course whisky, as though she'd never tasted it before.

'So, Pet,' he began, his eyes straying to the filmy cloth across her breasts. 'How come you're in this neck of the woods?'

'I was looking for Daisies,' she murmured and looked off to a space just left of his head. 'I couldn't find any though and Angelus will be so cross.'

Angelus? What kind of poncy name was that?

'So this Angelus, is he your bloke then?'

She looked at him then and smiled.

'He's my Daddy.'

Ah that kind of poncy name. If she wasn't shagging this Angelus, he was a monkey's uncle. And despite the evidence of Kathryn's hairy child, he was nobody's fool.

'So, you and your Daddy live round here then?'

She smiled at him again and Will felt slightly uncomfortable. It wasn't right to be scared of a woman, especially one who looked as frail as this. But he'd known women whose strength had been in their tongues. He grinned at that thought and then looked back at Drusilla.

'Why don't we see the room?' she asked unexpectedly and rose to her feet, 'I want to lie down.'

He knocked back her drink and grinned predatorily at her.

'All right, Love. You lead the way.'

She shook her head.

'I don't know my way.'

He winked at her and took her hand.

'Just follow my lead, Pet. I'll take care of you.'

'Promise?'

He nodded.

'You have my word.'
 

*
 

'Spike?'

The blond vampire shook his head out of his reverie and looked up at Angel, still wrapped in the throw from the sofa. He read the concern in that fathomless gaze and shook his head.

'I'm fine, Pet. Mind was wandering a bit, is all.'

'Are you sure Spike? You went quite a strange colour,' said Wesley, coming over.

Angel looked down at the completely porcelain vampire.

'He's still white,' he said bluntly.

'Well yes,' said Wesley, 'but there are shades, you know. And was looking a distinct shade of green.'

'He never looks green,' said Angel. 'Occasionally a little yellow, but he's never green.'

Wesley sat down on the sofa and shook his head.

'No, he was green. You just have to look at his cheeks...'

The vampire stared at him.

'Not those cheeks! But he was definitely a shade of apple there,' concluded Wesley.

Spike sat up and glared at both of them.

'I'm bloody dead! I don't go off-colour!'

Angel brushed his cheek fondly.

'Yeah, I know, but you looked distracted. Something bothering you?'

Spike revelled in the caress, smiling a little as he thought that from now on, Angel would be wearing his name carved on his ass. Me and mine, he thought, funny how that definition's changed over the years.

'I told you, I'm fine.'

Angel hesitated a moment before nodding.

'Go back upstairs Wesley, Spike and I will be with you in a few minutes. Go make her coffee or something.'

Wesley sighed and walked back to the stairs, but Spike caught his concerned gaze once more before he left. He gestured roughly with two fingers and grinned as the demon hunter bristled. Some things never changed.

Angel groaned as he looked at the rug and throw. They were smothered in dairy products and his own blood, topped off with sprinkles that were getting, quite frankly, everywhere. Including up his ass. Which was not too bad, but everytime he flexed, he could feel one of those bloody balls inside him. Hopefully they'd dissolve soon.

Spike picked up his clothes and put them back on, watching as Angel drew denims up over his still bleeding ass. He'd cut him deeply, claimed him and it felt good. The dark vampire winced a little and turned to Spike, dropping him a contented grin as he pulled a sweater over his head. He knew that the mark on his ass might heal, he wasn't sure what his demon would do about it, but to him, it would always be there, a statement of belonging between Angel and his love. He'd thought Spike would be bragging to everyone about it - something he did regularly, whether to cover up his feelings or just basically gross out the others. Maybe even to make them jealous.

But Spike seemed absent somehow, as if he wasn't entirely here and that just wasn't like him. In as much as they did typical things, Angel was the one who brooded and lost himself in the past and Spike was the vampire who remained firmly routed in the present. But when Wesley had announced that they were being asked to find a sire, Spike had grown quiet. Perhaps, thought Angel as he found his socks, (regulation black usually, but this pair had Sesame Street characters embroidered on the ankle - Cordelia's choice) Perhaps Spike was worried about going up against other vampires, announcing to the world that he was fighting on the side of good.

Perhaps it was simpler than that - Spike wouldn't kill vampires for anyone. Okay, so there had been Penn, but that had been personal. To kill a vampire simply because it existed was a harsh thing for any of them to do. When he'd killed Darla, he had turned his back openly on anything he had been. To ask Spike, who would still be an active vampire were it not for the chip, to kill one of his own, just because it was evil by nature, was incomprehensible. He couldn't do it.

'Spike?' asked Angel.

'What was that, Peaches?' asked Spike, cutting off his own thoughts and replacing them with plans for after this investigation.

Angel looked at him, accurately reading the thought that had just passed.

'If we take this case, it's...'

'Gonna mean staking someone, yeah, I know.'

'And you don't mind?'

Spike shrugged and pulled his Doc Martens on.

'Just doing a job, right?'

Angel raised an eyebrow.

'It doesn't bother you?'

Spike snorted and fastened the laces.

'If some stupid bugger forgot to off the family, then it's his bloody fault. We're just picking up the pieces.'

'Oh,' said Angel, 'I guess?'

'Right, Love,' said Spike with a grin, 'So get that bloody mopey face off and pretty up for the client. I've got to get some smokes whilst we're out as well.'

'Okay,' said Angel, confusion crossing his brow. 'It really doesn't bother you?'

Spike grinned and lit one up.

'Look Pet, I'm not arsed. If it pays the rent and gets you to stop worrying about making nice with the Powers that Fuck about, I'm in. Just don't expect me to go advertising it, okay?'

Angel laughed dryly a moment and then followed the English vampire upstairs. Sometimes, he thought, I don't know anything about you at all.

Spike turned back at the top of the stairs and kissed him fiercely, tongue flicking seductively against his teeth.

And other times I do, grinned Angel and opened the door.
 

*
 

Megan McGill sat quietly in the chair, counting out her keys as she waited for Wesley to come back. She wasn't patient by nature and what she had come for today was the culmination of several years' research. It had taken time and money to track the vampire down as far as she had, and the risk of being human had resulted in several near misses. No amount of preparation could protect you completely from a vampire's strength, but, she thought with an iota of amusement, it could keep you alive long enough to know that.

Wesley walked back in the room, smiling his slightly world-weary grin, boy-scout expression on his face.

'They won't be a minute,' he said politely, 'Could I get you some tea or coffee or something.'

'I don't do tea,' said Megan with a returning smile. 'Could use a real drink though.'

Wesley raised his eyebrows before nodding and walking to the cabinet near Angel's desk.

'I've had a bit of a rough day myself,' he said, pouring out two shots of whiskey. He passed one over to her, 'Have you come from straight from England?'

She shook her head.

'No, I've been in the states a couple of years, touring round, looking for...'

Wesley nodded quickly.

'Yes, quite. I've been here for a few years myself.'

'Practically a native now, huh?'

She smiled at him again and he wondered if he was imagining the flirtatious tone in her voice.

Must be.

'Oh I wouldn't say that,' said Wesley, 'But,' and he smiled in what he hoped wasn't a smug way, 'I know my way around.'

'Really,' said Megan, knocking the drink back and gasping, 'Maybe afterwards you could show me?'

Wesley gasped and then recovered his wits enough to drink his own booze. She was still smiling at him and he felt quite naked under that gaze somehow. Oh dear!

Or maybe...good?

The door opened and Wesley got up.

'Ah that will be them. I'll just, er...'

He gestured towards the notepad he'd been using. She nodded easily and he retrieved it as Spike and Angel walked in.

Megan stood up to shake the vampire's hands.

'Hi, I'm Megan and you must be Angel,' she said, clasping the dark vampire's hand in her own. 'I've heard good things about you.'

'From Wesley?' asked Angel, knowing the ex-Watcher's tendency to praise his reputation.

'Well yes,' she said with a grin, 'But I've been looking for someone like you for a long time.'

Wesley raised an eyebrow and Angel looked at her, confused. Spike chuckled at his lover's discomfort and took the moment to look their client over. The flirting was automatic, he surmised quickly. Given Wesley's nervous behaviour, he guessed that she did it to everyone. Pretty girl though, got a nice neck. Wouldn't have minded giving that a nibble or too.

She looked at him and he was a little startled by the sharp gaze. So few people actually met his eyes, feeling his violent nature even if they didn't acknowledge it all the way up to their minds. Primal senses ran deep and he could count on his fingers the number of mortals who actually stood up to him.

'Who are you?' she asked politely, but she didn't lose the arrogant stare.

'This is...'

'Spike, Pet,' said Spike, not moving his eyes from hers. He saw the glint of recognition.

'William the Bloody,' she breathed. 'I heard you were dead.'

'I am, Pet.'

'Dead, dead,' she said dryly. 'Back in Sunnydale they said you'd been caught by white hats and presumed dust.'

'You've been to Sunnydale?' asked Angel.

She broke away to look at Angel and nodded.

'I've been tracking this vampire a long time. I've been almost everywhere it has.'

'Watch it,' said Spike, 'We're not bloody animals.'

Megan looked at him once and grinned.

'I know that. I know some of you are...' she looked at Angel, 'Different. But my family has been searching for this vampire for so long. Longer than I've lived.'

She shrugged at them both.

'Some people get the key to the door on their eighteenth birthday, I got a big book full of family history.'

'So, what?' asked Spike, 'You found out the black sheep had a penchant for AB negative and you set off on a global search?'

She grinned again.

'Something like that. You see, there's just me now. Everyone else was killed a year ago.'

'Vampires?' asked Angel, feeling his natural regret that his race had existed.

'Told you,' said Spike, 'family dead, she wants a stake through his heart, or a gypsy curse or something.'

'That's not very compassionate, Spike,' said Wesley, before turning to Megan. 'I'm sorry to hear that Miss McGill.'

She shrugged.

'It's okay, I'm over it in a lot of ways. What I'm not over is why it happened.'

She looked into her glass for a moment and then back up at Wesley.

'Can I get a refill?'

'Of course,' said the Englishman, leaping to help her. 'It would be my pleasure.'

'I'm sure it bloody would,' grinned Spike, as Angel squeezed his shoulder.

She sat down on the edge of the desk and knocked back the second drink.

'Wow, that hit the spot.'

She sighed.

'Okay, my family have known about vampires for years, from a personal perspective. My Great, great, bla bla blah grandmother had one or two in her family and they knew others around. If you followed the rules, it was okay though. Just knowing about them didn't prove a threat. If you had a cross and never invited anyone in you hadn't seen by daylight, it was okay. The local ones just picked easier prey.'

'Sounds familiar,' mused Wesley before catching Angel's surprisingly sharp glance. 'Sorry.'

Megan carried on regardless.

'So I grew up accepting it and didn't pay it much mind. If it's been there all your life, you don't worry so much.'

'What changed?' asked Angel.

She studied her fingernails a moment.

'There was a diary written when the family first met them.'

'The vampires?' asked Wesley.

She nodded.

'Yeah, it was detailed.'

Megan looked up at Angel.

'It said that whilst most vampires tend to kill their families as a first kill, ours had remained unharmed. And the vampires went away almost immediately.'

Angel fought against the memories of his first meals and forced himself to listen to this woman.

'So some bloodsucker remembered he had a family and came back to finish you all off?' grinned Spike.

She shook her head.

'No, but part of the same clan seemed to harbour a grudge.'

'They came back to finish you off.'

She nodded.

'I was away for the weekend, and when I came back, they were all dead.'

'Everyone?' asked Wesley.

Megan stared at him and he read the loss in her face.

'Everyone.'

Angel furrowed his brow.

'So why'd you come here, to me?'

She stood up and looked at them both.

'I'm the only one left and I'm still in danger. I'm not going to be out of danger until this vampire's dead. So I came looking for it, rather than wait for them to get me.'

'Still doesn't tell us why you came here, Pet,' said Spike. 'What's it got to do with Angel?'

She looked at them all and picked up her bag, ready to leave.

'I don't suppose it matters now. You can't help me.'

'What?' said Wesley, 'Wait up, we haven't said that.'

'You might as well have,' said Megan, pulling the strap onto her shoulder.

'Why?' asked Angel. 'You needed our help when you came in.'

'Yeah, but that was before...' she trailed off and then got up resolutely. 'I'm sorry to have wasted your time. Bye Wesley.'

Spike moved to the door and stood in front of her.

'Now just a bloody minute, girl, I wanna know why we're not good enough for you now.'

She met his gaze again and he recognised the will power within. She breathed out deeply, aware that she was face to face with one of the biggest killers in the vampire world.

'Because of who I'm looking for.'

'Give me a name,' demanded Spike.

She looked briefly to Wesley and Angel, before frowning at Spike.

'Drusilla.'
 

*
 

He woke up with the faintest memories of the night before. He could remember the job, finishing up with Hardcastle and his trip through the park. He could remember her, and something prodded at his head here, he was supposed to remember something about that. They'd had a drink, then they'd gone up to one of the rooms, him taking the bottle with him, and then...

Nope, he couldn't think what had happened then. It was bloody dark in here, though, and...what the Hell was that? His head ached and his belly grumble. Should have had something to eat, he thought to himself, should have sent down for steak and kidney pie or something. Ah well, I'll sort it when I get out of here. He went to sit up, but his head hit a hard surface and he swore violently.

He moved about, realising that he was enclosed in a box and groaned. He'd been caught hadn't he? Someone that Hardcastle had hired must have set him up with that tart last night. How could he have fallen for it? He must be more of an arse than he thought. Now how the fuck was he going to get out of here?

Will pushed with his hands and scowled as the wood gave way easily. Too easily. But hey, he was stuck and anything that would help was a plus, right? He scrabbled and the wood fell in on him, letting in dirt and mud, coating his body. As he pushed harder, Will realised that he was buried the full six feet down and groaned. Hardcastle had strung him up like a kipper, leaving him buried alive in the ground. More dirt fell on him and its crushing weight started to frighten him. Just concentrate, he told himself, get out, then panic.

Will held his breath as the mud pressed on his face. He pushed hard, trying to reach the surface, afraid, so deathly afraid that he would suffocate. And the pain in his head was intense, he needed to get out of here soon, or he was as good as dead. He scrabbled away, righting himself slowly and trying to push through the soil, desperate for a lung full of fresh air.

He'd been clawing away for a while before he realised that he wasn't breathing. A man trapped beneath the soil of an unmarked grave, Will groaned, wondering if he was losing his mind along with his life. If he could just break through, if he could just reach the surface...

Fresh air.

Will pulled himself onto the ground and panted hard, the exertion of climbing out of his own coffin wiping him out for the moment. He lay there for a good ten minutes before he sat up and looked around, seeing the mass of grave markers and the space where his should have been. He was filthy and hungry, needing to find somewhere to hole up and stay out of Hardcastle's eye before he worked on his revenge.

As he thought about that bastard he growled, and felt something strange happen to his face. He reached up shivering fingers and touched his forehead, feeling ridges he knew shouldn't be there. As he stroked along his reshaped face, he found he could smell his own fear, pheromones giving off a sweet smell that taunted his nose. A childhood fear suggested itself to him and he shook his head, such things are impossible. It couldn't be.

He felt the ridges against his eyes and moaned deeply as he stroked towards his mouth. It wasn't possible. The only bad things that existed at night were him and his cronies. Nothing else walked the night. Nothing. It was fairytale, fantasy.

It wasn't true.

He reached his lips and closed his eyes, before reaching in to his teeth.

Sharp.

Will withdrew his finger and looked at the blood dripping from the tip.

It's not real.

He could smell the sweetness and taste the coppery liquid. It made him pant, hunger for more and ..........Oh God, he could remember.

They'd gone to the room and his seemingly innocent girl had swept her arms around him as soon as the door was closed, clamouring for kisses. And he'd been more than willing, taking and needing every ripe thing she offered him... clothes falling, everything...throbbing. God he was hard and she was cool against his heat, nothing warming her...and she was so...oh god, open, waiting, she needed him...needed him...and she...

She...

Dear God what is that pain?

He howled in the graveyard, knowing what should not be real was far too near to be denied. He heard his voice, changed, pulsating in the night air and Will got to his feet.

Buried in a pauper's grave, risen to take on the world.

I am not what I once was.

I am not yet what I will be.

And I am...he got to his feet unsteadily and breathed in the smell...hungry.
 

*
 

'Drusilla?' asked Wesley, 'Oh, now that does raise some...'he trailed off and then looked at her again, 'Are you sure?'

She raised an eyebrow at him and Wesley nodded apologetically.

'Yes, of course. You'd hardly come here if you weren't.'

Spike glared at Megan, waiting for her to take it back, to say it was all a joke, that she was a demon come for payback. Anything, just not that she wanted to hire them to kill Dru.

But her eyes were clear and he knew she wasn't lying.

'So...you gonna let me go now, now that you can't help me?'

Spike looked back to Angel, seeing over-used 'I'm sorry' expression on his face. There had been a time when they both would have done anything for Drusilla. Or at least, Spike would have done anything for her, Angelus indulged her, but only when it benefited him as well. Spike would have done anything for his Princess, given her anything...but those days were long gone now and if she'd taken all the trouble to take down this family, he didn't know her any more.

When he'd been turned, she had been too insane to consider caring for her newly formed fledge. Eventually, when he had turned people himself, he had learned that a sire teaches everything to their newly born, acts as parent and master. Dru had done none of this, possibly forgetting the man as she trailed through the night. Angelus, who had laughed at him before recognising his fearlessness and appetite for violence, had discovered him. He had taken on the mantle of sire and taught him everything he needed to know, from his first kill to the intricacies of vampire lore. And when the gypsies had worked their magic, Drusilla, lost and alone had turned to him, seeking solace in his arms, treating him as her beloved.

And so it had been for almost a century. The two of them, hunting and feeding throughout every country. She had asked to see Italy, he had taken her there. She had wanted to see the pyramids, he had complied. She had wanted to visit Prague...bit of an accident there, but she was his absolutely and he had done everything in his power to make her happy. Love me, he had begged silently, be mine and I shall give you the world.

But nothing is as we expect and when Angelus had returned to them, all traces of the man he had loved were gone, replaced by anger at his humanity and a passion to destroy both the Slayer and the relationship his childer had developed. Dru belonged to Angelus again, forgetting the vampire who had cared for her, submitting her will eagerly to their brutal sire. And Angelus had been so set on ridding himself of any semblance of his besouled self, that any humanity he had possessed was both ignored and reviled. Instead of running with his sire again, Spike had been subject to humiliation from both his lovers, despising them both with each passing day.

He had gone to the Slayer to reclaim Drusilla, believing that without Angelus' influence, she would belong to him alone. He was wrong. She had learnt what his bargain had been and hated him for it, avenging her sire by sleeping with as many base creature as she could. He was too human, she had told him, not good enough for a vampire princess like herself. He could sleep with the food if he so wished, but she would never stoop to the caresses of a traitor like himself.

And now...she had destroyed an entire family from his country, leaving the sole survivor to flee in fear, knowing that her fangs were a heartbeat away. Was this something he knew nothing about, or, as he had begun to suspect, was it revenge all too close to home?

He looked at Megan again and sighed, not really wanting to know the answer to his question.

'Who was your great, great...'

'Grandmother?'

'Yeah, her. What was her name, Pet?'

'Morrell,' she replied softly, seeing the recognition in his eyes, 'You knew her?'

Spike shook his head and picked up the whiskey from the desk.

'Nah, knew of her though.'

'Does this have something to do with why Drusilla has targeted Miss McGill's family, Spike? Asked Wesley.

Angel stepped forward, a notion coming to him.

'She's doing this to hurt you, isn't she?'

The younger vampire snorted.

'If she is, she's fucked up big time, cause I don't give a damn.'

'Yeah, but she thinks you do.'

'Umm, hello,' said Megan, 'Am I missing something, because it's my family that got their throats ripped out, not her love toy here.'

'Watch it, Love,' said Spike warningly.

Angel turned to Megan.

'When Spike became...he insisted we all left his neighbourhood after we'd dealt with a couple of his enemies.'

'Payback's a bitch,' murmured Spike, swigging back another draught.

'Drusilla was angry about that. She'd wanted us to finish off Spike's family, everyone he knew...everything.'

He looked down and Spike rolled his eyes.

'Don't get all broody, Peaches. Doesn't help anybody, that.'

He shrugged at them all.

'I wouldn't let them feed on my folks. There were other...more fun things to do.'

Wesley picked up his notepad again and read through his notes.

'You think Miss McGill is a descendant of one of your family?'

'No,' said Spike. 'If she is who she says, then she's my grand daughter...give or take a few generations.'

Megan blinked then took the bottle off Spike and knocked it back.

'That would explain why Dru's so keen to kill her,' said Angel, before laughing. 'You never told me you had children.'

'Wasn't important, Pet,' said Spike. 'Didn't get involved. Knocked her up, then she gave the kid up to her aunt. Nothing to do with me.'

'But you told Drusilla?' said Wesley thoughtfully, 'And she's doing what you wouldn't let her before.'

'Looks like it.'

Spike turned to have a good look at Megan. She didn't exactly look like him, except for those highly accentuated cheekbones. The hair was the wrong colour, the eyes...wrong colour but...there *was* something.

Bugger me, Spike thought with a grin. It's my bloody attitude. Kid's a bitch without even trying.

She finished her drinking and glared at him.

'I'm not calling you Granddad,' she said flatly.

'Wouldn't expect you to, Pet,' said Spike. 'I'm not your family.'

'But you just said,' began Wesley, before Megan interrupted him.

'No, it's okay. I wasn't looking for any kind of reunion.'

She picked up her bag.

'Seems I've walked into the lions den. I'll get going before you decide to finish her job right now.'

Spike slammed his hand back against the door.

'Let me go,' she said calmly.

'Nah, Pet. We may not be bosom buddies here, but that don't mean I'm not gonna do something about it.'

Wesley worked that through in his head.

'You're going to help her?'

Spike grinned and reached in his pocket, winking at Angel.

'I think someone needs a lesson, don't you, Love?'

Angel looked between him and Megan, recognising the cold determination in both bodies. He didn't know how this was going to play out and it worried him a little. He didn't know if he could do anything to Drusilla. A part of him believed he'd caused her enough pain. But she was at full strength again, killing with a particularly brutal motive. She wanted to hurt Spike, make him feel inadequate and Angel couldn't let anyone do that. Not even her.

He nodded at them both

'Let's find Drusilla.'
 

*
 

'I always thought that vampires went in for Mansions and castles and things,' said Wesley, looking at the muck on his legs.

'We're in LA, Pet,' said Spike, lighting up, 'Castle free, sort of thing.'

'Well yes,' said Wesley, 'But isn't there a modern equivalent? You and Angel don't live in this kind of squalor.'

He splashed through a particularly messy puddle and groaned as it seeped up his leg.

Spike chuckled and inhaled the smoke deeply.

'Yeah, but Angel's a poof, he likes all that arty farty décor.'

Wesley put his hand on the wall to steady himself and pulled it away, a disgusted expression on his face. He got out his handkerchief and started cleaning the sewer ooze off it.

'You're always so rude about him. One would hardly assume you were...' he straggled for a word.

'Shagging?' asked Spike with a grin.

'Lovers,' said Wesley pointedly. 'I know vampire relationships are different from mortal ones, but still, I would have expected something.'

'Like what, Pet?' asked Spike as he bent to an interesting mark on the floor.

'Well I wouldn't have expected you to call him a great poof all the time,' said Wesley. 'It's hardly romantic.'

'What? So you want me to spout off flowers and poetry every bloody day?'

'Well, no. I suppose not,' he finished with a sigh. 'Your great great granddaughter...'

'Watch it.'

'Miss McGill. She's quite an intrepid young lady.'

Someone's been feeding round here.

Spike stood up and looked around.

'You fancy her, don't you?'

Wesley looked quite affronted.

'I never said anything of the sort. I was just saying, young woman like that, taking off around the world to find her destiny. Quite poetic really.'

Spike snorted.

'Dru killed her family and she ran away. Not quite Proust, is it?'

Wesley walked forward and looked at the walls.

'You haven't got a romantic bone in your body, have you?'

'Why? You up for a bit, Love?'

Wesley rolled his eyes and tramped onward.

'I don't know why I bother talking to you sometimes, I really don't.'

'Because I'm such a good natter, Pet. Plus, you're looking to shag that shapely bit and you want a bit of advice.'

'Oh, please,' said Wesley disparagingly, 'You're the last person I'd talk to about...sex.'

Spike grinned and blew out a big puff of smoke.

'So you do wanna shag her.'

'I'm not dignifying that with a reply.'

'Come on, Wes, talk to me. Tell me how you want to slip her the length.'

'Not listening,' said Wesley.

'Come on, you haven't said anything about you and Doyle snogging, so the least you can...'

'You know about that?'

Wesley's face had suddenly gone pale and Spike shrugged.

'Vampires have a good sense of smell, Pet.'

'You could smell him on me?'

Spike stubbed out the last of his cigarette.

'Well that and the way you didn't look at him without getting a drippy look on your face.'

Wesley slumped and then walked to the dividing tunnels.

'I don't know what that was, really. We were drunk...and well, the atmosphere was...'

'You fancied him, you kissed him,' said Spike, 'No big deal.'

'It is a big deal,' said Wesley. 'I've never...wanted a man before. I'm still not sure if I do now. And he's with Cordelia, isn't he.'

The ex-watcher looked gloomy and Spike, sick of brooding people, walked up to him and passed him the bottle from his pocket.

'Here, Pet. Take a swig, it won't make you feel better, but you'll be too pissed to care.'

Wesley laughed dryly and took a sip.

'Bottoms up, eh?'

'Only if I get lucky with Angel, Pet!'

Wesley sighed and then slugged it back.

'Can't get any worse, I suppose.'

'Nah, Love. And if you get them leathers back on, you might just score with the tart.'

'She has a name.'

'Yeah, and since she wouldn't be here without me, you might just wanna get in with the family.'

'She has no family.'

Spike grinned.

'She's got me.'

'Wonderful.'
 

*
 

'So, you got your soul back and basically moped for a century.'

Angel felt his way along the sewer wall and found the hidden brick. He didn't see why he'd wound up with Megan for this. They usually completed a case without the client accompanying them, but she had been insistent. He saw her point - if they left her at the office, she would be in a prime place for Drusilla to strike. But she was as blunt as Spike and didn't have the redeeming advantage of an ass he wanted to bite.

He sighed.

'Yeah, that's pretty much it.'

'And now you're a detective?'

'I try and help people,' said Angel.

'You're a PI,' said Megan. 'Kind of strange for a vampire.'

He looked at her and she held her hands up.

'Sorry, but I've never met a vampire socially.'

'Most people don't,' murmured Angel.

She laughed.

'Yeah, I guess so. Well, not for long anyway.'

They walked on a bit and he could feel her thinking. She was tensing behind him and he smelt the blood in the air. Someone had been feeding round here.

'So you and Spike...?'

Here it comes.

'Yes?'

'Are you, er...?'

He turned to look at her, seeing the inscrutable gaze, and shook his head. The resemblance was weird, but there.

He nodded his head.

'Yeah, we're er.'

'Whoah!' she said and grinned. 'That's sweet.'

Angel thought about the wicked grin his lover usually wore. He could feel the stinging in his ass as the cuts scarred over and the throbbing against his pants as Spike's naked body came into his mind. Horny, yes. Irresistible, yes. Sweet?

Not as far as he knew.

'So what do you do when you're...er'

'Not running for my life? Well I was studying for my Masters at Essex Uni, but having a vampire stalker tends to put you off your books.'

'Yeah, I suppose,' said Angel. 'Has she ever got close?'

Megan nodded.

'Once, in California. Some of her vamp friends bumped into me at a nightclub.'

'Bumped?'

She slid her roll neck down a little and showed him the mark on her neck.

'It was a big bump.'

'So I see.'

They carried on down the tunnel.

'Do you really think you can do anything about Drusilla?'

'What do you mean?'

'I mean,' said Megan, 'You guys used to hang out. Are you sure you'd be able to stake her?'

Angel sniffed the air and turned right.

'If she's killing again, and she won't walk away from this one...'

'You will?'

He looked at her and she shrugged.

'I just wanted to know if suddenly I'm lunch, okay?'

He nodded.

'I won't let anything happen to you. But you have to stay back.'

She nodded, grinning at the implication.

'I get it. Don't become vampire food.'

He laughed briefly.

'That's pretty much it.'

She stepped back against the wall and raised her hands.

'Well that's okay, cause I didn't plan on becoming a corpse anytime...'

A hand clasped round her neck.

'...Soon.'

Angel spun round as Drusilla's goons entered the tunnel. The largest one held Megan by the throat and was slowly sniffing her, smelling the pulse and the throb of her blood. As the dark princess walked round the corner, he drew himself up to his full height, stamping down on the guilt he always felt around her, concentrating on the demon in front of him.

'Hello Angel,' she purred.
 

*
 

'Drusilla,' said Angel, 'Why don't you put the girl down now?'

'Oh that's going to work!' said Megan, stamping on the goon's foot. 'Stop quoting cop shows!'

The big vampire growled at the pain in his foot and let go of the girl. She ran over to Angel and pulled a cross out of her coat pocket. Angel held an arm in front of her, and waited for them to make their move.

Drusilla smiled wickedly at him and walked up to him slowly.

'I knew you'd come. My Angel, come to see Princess.'

She ran a finger down his cheek and looked at Megan's horrified face over his shoulder.

'And you brought me a present.'

Drusilla sighed and moved slowly round Angel's body.

'My Spike.'

Megan stepped backwards, feeling the slime pressed against her hair. She would have groaned, except the demon in front of her seemed to have scared her speech away. And Dru was still coming.

'Not Spike. But so very close.'

She kept one hand on Angel and stretched the other to Megan's neck, stroking the pulse and pressing her nails up against the skin.

'How would you like to live forever?'

'Enough, Dru,' said Angel, pulling her hands away. 'Call off the goon squad.'

She looked at him, hurt and turned those wide, innocent eyes to his.

'Your heart is full again.'

She touched his chest, a seductive grin teasing him, tempting him. I was yours, she seemed to say, I could be yours again. Give me what I want.

'Not the Slayer.'

'Dru, leave it alone.'

She looked confused for a second and then looked at him in wonder.

'Spike?'

Angel swallowed hard. Maybe, he could talk Dru out of this, maybe they could get away. And if she'd been rational, that might have worked. But he had seen to it a long time ago that she would never control her mind, her premonitions adding to the chaos of her thoughts.

He wondered how she'd envisaged this.

'Here, Baby,' said the crisp accent. 'Now why don't you just leave the poof and his friend alone?'

She smiled at him, but didn't move.

'You've been a very bad boy, Spike.'

'I know Baby, I'm a bad man, remember.'

'Very bad,' she moaned and swayed against Angel.

The dark vampire didn't look at her, his gaze fixed on Spike. The blond gave off all the cockiness of Drusilla's lover, cig smoking away as he walked forward. He held Wesley by the neck and winked at Angel.

'Have I been punished enough, Pet?'

She shook her head.

'Baby wants to play. Let me have this one and I'll hold a party.'

'A party,' said Spike, hurling the hapless Wesley against Megan, effectively knocking them both out. 'I can live with a party,' he said, trying ignore the pain in his head.

'Spike,' murmured Angel warningly.

'See Angel here thinks that he's your number one man, and I said my Princess would never love anyone who's housebroke.'

'That's my Spike,' grinned Drusilla and met his mouth with a kiss.

Angel watched, praying that he was wrong, that Spike was just playing her. He knew, he felt that it was true, that his lover wouldn't leave him for anyone, but she was tonguing his mouth so enthusiastically and he didn't seem to show any resistance at all. He could have sworn that they were back in the past, Angel watching them as they infiltrated Sunnydale, ripe with wickedness and tormenting him, knowing he fought against the vices they revelled in.

Spike pulled back, tasting his wicked ripe plum and wondering why it didn't quite taste the same. For over a year he'd missed her, wishing she was in his arms, in his heart and in his bed. He'd actually dragged two of the Slayer's little pals into the problem, looking for a spell to bring her back, but he'd realised that he was tired of trying to be what she was after. He was tired of pretending to be Angelus. He was Spike, and if she couldn't live with that, he wasn't going to change for her.

So he'd left her with one in a dozen ugly demons and headed back to Sunnydale, to search for the gem of Amara, and...well, that had gone pear-shaped, so he'd tried in LA and that had gone so badly, he really didn't want to think about it. But he was over Dru and if he needed any more evidence, it was in that kiss - it had literally meant nothing.

He only hoped her addled brain wouldn't pick up on it.

He risked a look at Angel. The vampire looked as though the heart had been torn from his body...well actually, no he didn't, people tended to wail and scream a lot more when that was happening, but Angel looked heartbroken. When this is all over, he promised himself and willed Angel to understand, when this is over I will make it up to you in as many ways as you can believe.

I'll even bring tiramasu.

'Come on then, Pet,' he said to dry, 'Let's go see this party of yours.'

She nodded excitedly and then looked over his shoulder to the unconscious humans.

'Can I have them now?'

Spike grinned and blew out the smoke.

'Nah, Love. You have to wait till later. Get one of the boys to tie them up and keep them out of the way for a while. You and I have to talk, Princess.'

She looked up to her sire.

'And Angel?'

'Bring him along, Love. He can't fight his way out of all of us.'

'My Spike,' she grinned and licked along his face. 'My baby.'

Angel watched silently as they walked into the sub basement of Drusilla's lair, allowing himself to follow dejectedly. He couldn't make his heart understand that Spike was acting. It hurt too much. Perhaps this is how Buffy felt about Faith, his guilt murmured and he bit it down. He had to keep his wits sharp, had to stay...someone banged the back of his head...alert...
 

*
 

'Oh this is perfect,' said Wesley as his head throbbed. 'We're tied up in some vampire's lair with no sign of Angel or Spike.'

'Well, you get points for the obvious,' said Megan, 'Now how about we get out of here?'

They were tied either side of a pillar in the dankest part of a cellar, rats scrabbling in the background and slime coating their clothes. The knots were tight and Wesley's wrists chafed as he tried to get free. His fingers kept brushing against hers and he was trying to ignore the rush of electricity that flushed through him each time.

'If only I'd brought a knife instead of a crucifix,' sighed Megan. 'Like that did any good, anyway.'

'No,' agreed Wesley, 'I think Drusilla's too far gone to recognise traditional vampire fears.'

He rested his head against the pillar and then thought.

'It's not been the best of days, has it?'

'Well no,' she said with a dry laugh. 'It turns out the only member of my family left alive is...well, dead.'

Wesley chuckled.

'Yes, I suppose that must have come as something of a shock.'

'Yeah. My grandmother mentioned him briefly, but I thought it was just because of his closeness to Drusilla.'

'Well he's not close to her anymore,' said Wesley, 'Although Goodness only knows what's going on out there.'

'I don't even want to think,' said Megan.

She huffed as a thought occurred to her.

'How sharp do you think a crucifix is?'

'Oh I'm not su...ow!'

She slipped the cross down against her bonds, slicing against his back and her fingers.

'Pretty sharp then.'

'I think you've torn my jacket!'

'Oh, sorry, Wesley. I'll stop trying to get us out of this before they call lunchtime, okay?'

He sighed.

'Good point. Cut away.'

She sawed away at the rope, listening to Wesley yelping every time she cut him.

'Look, if you stop making that noise, I'll kiss them better, now be quiet!'

...

'There.'

'You've cut through?'

She struggled against the pillar and pulled one hand free.

'Yes!'

Megan rubbed her wrists and turned around to undo Wesley, her fingers covered in tiny cuts. She was almost through the final strand when she paused, a grin crossing her face.

'Miss McGill?'

She moved round and straddled his legs, picking his glasses up from the floor and replacing them.

'Megan?'

She bent forward until she was nose to nose with him and felt Wesley squirm in what she hoped wasn't entirely discomfort.

'Wesley, if we get out of here...'

'We will.'

'If we get out of here, would you come to dinner with me?'

Wesley's eyebrows shot up.

'On a...a date?'

She grinned.

'Well that was generally the idea.'

He smiled.

'Do you always ask men out when they're tied up?'

She looked at him.

'I didn't mean it like that. I just...ah, well. Yes I'd love to take you to dinner. Now untie me.'

She kissed the tip of his nose and climbed off, cutting through the last of his bonds. Wesley got to his feet and started to readjust his clothing whilst Megan looked at the shredded remains of the rope.

'I wonder why they didn't use manacles.'

'Maybe Drusilla has a more entertaining use for them.'

She dropped the rope and stood up.

'I really didn't want to go there.'

'Indeed,' said Wesley, 'Let's hope we don't have to.'
 

*
 

Angel had made great use of manacles in his long existence. He'd understood quickly the pleasure inherent in pain and as Angelus, he had relished initiating fledglings and victims to the darker side of sex. Of course, safe words were passé for a vampire, so there had been much more pain than pleasure. But he'd enjoyed it at least.

It was probably why he'd preferred the gentler side of his nature with his soul. He tried to make a distinction between his existence with and without a soul, but this had been easy. The guilt inherent in such acts was no longer worth it to him. More than that, he no longer needed such depravity to turn him on. Making love to Spike was the image that haunted his dreams now, a pleasure that far surpassed anything he'd done as Angelus.

For some people though, the manacles were enough.

'Hit him again!'

The crack of the whip sailing through the air stung Angel far more than the actual blow. The knowledge of who was hitting him caused him to hang limply, cursing every blow and wishing he were far from here. In his head, he tried to imagine that he was lying in bed, a long lean body pressed against his own...

<Crack>

...touching him, trailing his fingers slowly down his body, feeling every nerve...

<crack>

...smoothing over his chest, stroking against his nipples...

<crack>

....his tongue stroking a path down his neck, hips pressing up against him...

<crack>

'I don't think he's paying attention, are you, Peaches?'

Spike turned the chain until Angel was nose to nose with him and saw the desolation in his dark chocolately eyes. There was pain there, but it wasn't the only expression in all that brown. Spike recognised the lust and knew it wasn't about pain.

Best not to let Dru know about that, though.

Drusilla purred as she moved next to Spike. She looked at Angel pityingly and he was back in time, strapped to Dru's bed, waiting for her to pour more holy water on his body. He had almost welcomed that torture.

He didn't welcome this.

'Would you like something else?' she asked in her little girl voice.

He raised his eyes to hers, seeing that mixture of death and innocence. She thought she had it all going her way. And the way Spike looked...he couldn't do this to me, Angel breathed. I love you, don't let me be right. But Spike was grinning as if he'd just got the joke and the vampire felt his heart ache.

'Had enough, Pet?'

Angel met Spike's glowing yellow eyes with his own.

'Not even close.'

Dru dropped her hands to Angel's jeans, the last vestiges of clothing he had left. She ran her fingers over the firm length of his hidden cock and grinned.

'Somebody wants to play.'

Spike locked his gaze with Angel's again. Don't let it be this way again. Don't make it you and Dru against me. I won't do that again. Don't you bloody get your kicks with her.

Dru knelt down and slowly unzipped Angel's jeans, all the time focussing her attention on her sire. Angel didn't see, he wasn't there, not with Spike and Dru. He couldn't bear the thought of losing his lover. His beloved. He wasn't...he refused to give it up. You're mine as much as I am yours, he willed Spike to know. This isn't real and I don't know how far you're going to take it before you take your revenge on her but God, stop torturing me!

He felt Dru licking at his backside and wondered what she was doing. Spike noticed and walked round.

'Um, Love, what are you doing?'

'He's bleeding,' she said gleefully. 'His bum's all bloody.'

'Probably slipped when he was shaving,' said Spike, bending to pick her up, 'Leave his ass alone.'

'No, wait, there's something...'

Spike pulled her to her feet and kissed her harshly.

'Now why don't I see if you still like to play, eh, Baby?'

She smiled at him and he wondered at how easy she was to play with. Maybe that had been part of why he had looked after her so long. She was a vicious creature, gifted with foresight and without any conscience whatsoever, but she was a child. Angelus had seen to that.

He picked up the second set of manacles and clasped them round her hands, fastening them through a loop in the ceiling. She sighed deeply and leaned back as the onset of lust spread through her body. Her hair slipped down over her shoulders, hanging in long tendrils down her back. Her feet barely touched the ground as she hung, stretched out by the manacles.

Spike picked up the crop he'd been using on Angel and looked at her.

She grinned widely, expectantly.

'Playing with Princess?'

He grinned at her, a wolfish quality that had sent her wild for decades. She moaned gently and shifted her dainty feet in anticipation.

Spike stood within inches of her, his mouth a hair's breadth away from hers.

'Do you want to know what's on his arse?'

She breathed out dreamily, which he took to be a yes. Angel looked at him, wondering if this was such a good idea. But Spike's eyes, so cold since they'd met Drusilla, were warming up.

'Well, let's take a look shall we, Pet?'

Spike reached up and unclasped the metal bracelets, catching Angel as he slumped down. The older vampire quickly turned his head to look at Spike, reading the anger there. He didn't know where this was going, but there was revenge written on his lover's face. Revenge that Angel was beginning to suspect involved him.

And his ass.

'Spike?' asked Drusilla, 'Show me?'

Spike grinned and carried the aching vampire over to the sofa, laying him face down as he stroked his spine. Angel turned his head, wondering how far Spike was going to take this, what kind of punishment he was going to inflict on Drusilla....If he was at all.

Spike sat on the hard-backed sofa, Angel's legs stretched over his knee. He had been so keen to show Drusilla that she meant nothing to him now, that he would rather be with Angel than be with her. he had planned to get to this point, then fuck his sire senseless, bringing them both of, letting her know that she no longer had claim on either of them. Let her watch, get her aroused and then leave her there, exiting with his lover.

He'd planned that, but when had his plans ever succeeded?

The problem was, that he knew that if he carried it out, Dru wouldn't be the only one hurt. Oh sure, he'd hit Angel with a crop, but he was a vampire, it would all be healed in a couple of days. In the old days, Angelus would have loved to show off in public, demonstrating his hold over whichever hapless lover of the moment he had. It had been about control, never about affection and, despite his demonic needs, Angel deliberately avoided any kind of domination. Between them, they'd managed to find some kind of equilibrium, and if Spike acted out his plan now...that was all over.

He had to decide which mattered more.

'Drusilla,' said Spike slowly, feeling Angel tense on his lap, 'I think it's time for confession, Pet.'
 

*
 

'Just hit him' Megan hissed.

They were stuck behind the door, knowing that on the other side was a vampire who, although stupid enough to pay attention to Drusilla, was big enough to take both their heads and bang them together like coconuts...and that was a best case scenario. Wesley wasn't even going with what would really happen. He didn't want to know how fangs in your neck felt. Being bitten wasn't exactly up there with 'things I want to experience before I die'. Probably because it was on the list entitled, 'things I'm probably going to die from'.

He shuddered. I've given that one too much thought, he reminded himself. Megan prodded him in his side and he gestured to her to keep quiet. She gestured back and Wesley wondered exactly how similar to Spike she was. He didn't fancy that kind of abuse all evening.

Still, Spike was famed for his sexual appetite.

I did not just think that.

Yes you did.

No, I didn't. I am merely rescuing this young lady and myself from the clutches of Drusilla's fiends. And then I'm going to try and find Angel and Spike before I start panicking myself that Spike's gone bad again. Or Angel's gone bad. Or they're doing things with Drusilla that I really don't want to think about.

And then I'm going to think about doing those things with Miss McGill.

'Oh shut up,' said Wesley aloud.

The goon turned.

'Wesley, what was that about being quiet?'

They backed up against the wall.

'Change of plan?'

'I'm game.'

The vampire charged them and at the last moment they stepped aside, letting him smack his head on the wall. He crumpled and Wesley staked him with the crucifix.

He yelled, but he didn't go poof.

'Umm, isn't he supposed to explode?'

Wesley nodded.

'Where's a stake when you need one?'

Megan looked around as the vampire howled, clutching at his back.

'There's a chair. Can we break one of the legs off?'

Wesley picked up the chair and smacked it against the wall.

It didn't break.

'Wesley!'

He looked up to see the vampire, having knocked the crucifix from his back, moving to Megan, teeth bared.

'Oh dear.'

'Sod oh dear! Do something!'

As the vampire closed in on the girl, Wesley swung the chair again and this time it splintered. Right down the middle.

Oh dear.

Megan held her arms out, trying to keep this brute from her neck. She kicked out viciously, but he was much stronger than she was and...urgh, he had bad breath to boot. He grinned at her and opened his mouth wide, showing her teeth that could cut through metal. Oh God, she thought, I'm gonna die.

As his saliva dripped onto her neck she felt him tense and as she waited for the pain of being bitten, he pulled back. He looked at her for a moment, puzzled, and then he exploded into ash of a hundred years.

Wesley stood behind him, half a chair in his hands, the central strut having pierced the vampire's heart. She struggled to get back to her feet and started brushing the dust off her sweater.

'Thanks Wesley.'

He breathed out, unaware that he'd been holding his breath and grinned cheerfully at her.

'Slightly unorthodox, but I think it worked.'

She nodded.

'Could be the start of whole new staking phase.'

He looked at her uncertainly.

'Well, it worked. Let's break these up into a few more and get on shall we?'

She smiled at him and he blushed.

'Whatever you say, Wesley. I'll follow your lead.'

He looked up at that, but she was already trying to break the chair up and he wondered if he'd imagined the suggestion in that statement. He hoped he hadn't. And if they could get out of here he was on for what promised to be a most interesting date.

If they hadn't been trapped underground in a vampire's lair with his friends missing, he would have been happy.

Ah well, you can't have everything.
 

*
 

'There's been a few changes round these parts, Pet,' said Spike, stroking the fabric covering Angel's thighs. 'I've become a new man, so to speak.'

Drusilla just looked at him and he wondered how much of her mind was taking this in.

He continued anyway.

'See, you never wanted me.'

Angel hissed under Spike's fingers and tried to ignore the throbbing against his hips.

'You always wanted Angel, here. Your big bastard of a Daddy, sire.'

She switched her gaze to Angel with a soft smile and Spike bit down on his jealousy. He moved so that Angel was on the floor and sat back, lacing his hands across his lap.

'And I always tried to do my best for you, didn't I, Princess?'

She didn't answer, but Angel knelt up, staring at him with those oh so soulful eyes. What do you want me to do, Spike? Do you really want me to prove how much I love you here, so that she knows? Do you want to humiliate her? What? Tell me?

Spike looked away from his gaze and back to Drusilla.

'But you left me anyway, because I'm not your precious Angel.'

'Spike?' asked Drusilla. 'You came back to me.'

'You left me, Princess.'

She purred then, turning her little girl gaze to him.

'You told me that I wasn't good enough for you. You'd rather be with the most disgusting demon than with me.'

He leaned over and picked up the bottle of vodka.

'Well I'm over it now, Pet.'

He drank deeply from the bottle.

'And I don't want you any more.'

She looked at him, puzzled. Spike loved her, didn't? He wanted her despite everything, didn't he?

'So you can just bugger off. Go away, go sleep with whoever gets you hot.'

He grinned.

'Cause I've found someone else to love.'

She stared at him, her brain refusing to understand what he'd said. She had been sure of lots of things. Don't go out in the day. Take what you want. Let Spike take care of things. These were all definites, these were the things she believed in. Anything else made no sense.

Angel reached his hand to touch his lover's face, not caring if the world saw him. It was as near an admission of love as he was likely to get. The blond vampire winked at him and moved to leave, before Angel caught his arm.

'I thought you wanted your revenge?'

Spike sniffed and looked at Drusilla.

'Look at her, Pet. She doesn't even understand what I've said.'

He shook his head.

'I can't get my own back on someone who doesn't understand the idea.'

'Spike?' breathed Drusilla. 'I've made a picnic.'

Spike stood up and passed Angel his shirt.

'A picnic, eh, Love. Yeah, it's about your level. Why don't you just eat it all up whilst me and Angel get out of here.'

She smiled seductively at him and Spike paused. He could feel something in his marrow, but he didn't know what. Drusilla looked to unconcerned, even for her. He looked to Angel and saw the same expression there. Something wasn't right.

'Yes,' she purred, 'And I've invited everyone.'

'Everyone?' repeated Angel.

'All my friends,' she smiled, leaning against the chain. 'Everyone who loves me. My Angel...' She sighed and spun round so she was facing the mural above the bed. Something she'd painted herself by the looks of it. All bright colours and flowers. Somehow, it combined into a suffocating bouquet born of a tortured mind. Which was after all, exactly what Angelus had made of her.

Spike looked to Angel, wondering if he'd understood any of that, but Angel was looking as blank as he was. He turned back to Drusilla.

'Pet? When you say everyone?'

'Every demon who walks the tunnels. You've been a bad boy, Spike.'

'Oh shit,' said Angel. 'We've got to get out of here.'

Spike was already moving towards the door. He sniffed and gestured back to Angel.

'There's fucking loads of them out there! She's bloody trapped us!'

They looked at the dangling marionette and Spike spun her round, bringing her delicate face level with his.

'Is this your final bloody revenge? Get me and Angel killed, cause I made nice with the Slayer?'

She gazed up at him, no malevolence in her eyes, just emptiness. They had always told her what she was, both he and Angelus. She was Angelus' pretty dolly, Spike's Princess, but she was nothing to herself, an empty shell upon which both men had cast their expectations. With them, she had purpose, an identity. Without them, she was...nothing.

'Fuck!' exclaimed Spike and looked around the room for a way out. 'If them demons get in here, it's going to be a massacre and you and I are the sodding main course!'

Angel ran his fingers over the walls, searching for a door.

'She knew all along. She knew about you and me.'

'Yeah, like that's important now, pet. Now find a way out!'

Angel shook his head.

'That's why she's doing this.'

'Huh?' said Spike as he touched the canvas of the bed. Something here.

'It's not about you and Buffy, or me and her...it's about us. Isn't it, Dru?'

But Drusilla wasn't paying attention, off in her land of far away, dreaming of nights when they had all hunted together and fed and fucked and been a family.

'She needs us. In some damned way we made her what she is.'

'That was Angelus...And this is not the fucking time for blame!'

Angel moved away from the wall. He could feel Spike as close to panicking as the vampire ever became. It was both a bad thing and their best chance to get out of here. He'd never been famed for his patience, but his bloody and violent reputation was well won. Even so, going against all the demons Dru could gather who wanted revenge on them both...they weren't looking down the best odds.

'Got it!' said Spike and uncovered a handle.

Angel rushed over to Spike's side and helped him yank on it.

It wouldn't budge.

'It's stuck.'

'Yeah, now tell me something I don't know, Love!'

There was a muffled laughter from behind the other door and the vampires looked at one another in the knowledge of their future. It didn't look long.

'Break it down,' said Angel.

Spike nodded.

'Let's just get the fuck out of here!'

The two vampires back up slightly and moved forward, pressing on the door with all their combined strength. Angel growled and felt himself shift into game face with the effort, aware that Spike was doing the same and strained to push the door down. He felt it shift a little and roared, pressing against the heavy oak frame and wishing that they'd used fibre board or something less protected to close this way out of the room.

'It's going,' snarled Spike.

They growled together and the door finally gave. They fell forward, both vaguely aware of a yelp on the other side of the door. As it smashed to the ground, Spike realised why it had given at all - some of the wood was soft and mushy, pulpy beneath his body. He wondered vaguely why they weren't lying flat on the floor when he felt fingers on his shoulders.

'Get up off him!'

He looked up and saw Megan frantically pulling at his arms.

'You're squashing Wesley. Get up!'

Spike got to his knees and pulled the splintery mass up off the spluttering demon hunter. His glasses had cracked and fallen on the floor whilst he looked completely stunned by this turn of events. Angel got to his feet and looked at them both, wondering where they had come from and having a sneaking suspicion that he didn't want to know the answer.

'What the hell are you two doing here?' snarled Spike.

'Losing my glasses, apparently' said Wesley, '*We* were escaping,' he added, getting to his feet.

Spike snorted.

'Well done, Ducks, you managed to walk straight into the vampire's layer.'

'Spike,' said Angel softly, 'I think, that was the idea.'

They looked at him and he shrugged.

'Well did you two find another way out?'

Megan and Wesley shook their heads.

'We followed the passageway round to here. I take it that this isn't the way out.'

Spike rolled his eyes.

'The way out is behind that door over there, Pet.'

Megan stared at him.

'And you were coming this way because?'

'Because, Peaches, this week behind door number three, your grand prize is a bunch of very pissed off demons.'

They looked at the door. It wasn't bulging, but their imaginations were nicely taking care of that.

'Ah, that does rather put a damper on things,' said Wesley.

'A whole fucking flood,' agreed Spike. 'Anyone got any ideas?'

Angel walked over to Dru and shook her.

'You don't need to do this Dru. Just let us leave and we'll be out of your hair. You don't have to do this.'

'Marvellous,' said Spike, 'I'm sure the begging for our lives plot will work this time.'

Wesley looked at the crack down his glasses.

'I thought she was a bit...off centre?'

Spike laughed.

'She's fucking nuts, Mate. That's why we're up that bloody creek without a paddle.'

'Actually,' said Megan, pointing at an implement on the wall. 'There's one.'

The boys looked at the item and Wesley grinned.

'Good Heavens, do you know how much those things are worth?'

'Do they have any effect against big aggressive demons?' asked Spike.

Wesley shook his head.

'Shouldn't think so for a minute.'

'Then shut up until we can find something that does.'

Drusilla opened her eyes and smiled up at Angel.

'My love. Why did you have to leave me?'

Angel flicked his eyes quickly to Spike, sensing the hurt, but Spike just shrugged. Maybe some good had been done here anyway. Great Angel, way to philosophise. Like this is the ideal time for us to be getting over certain hang-ups. Now if we could just blag our way past the demons out there we'd be fine.

'Dru, you've got to listen to me. You don't need either of us anymore. You can go...become something, maybe someone. You don't need us. Just call off the goon squad, please.'

She glared at him then and Angel realised the stupidity of what he was saying. His beautiful Drusilla may have been a few dairylea triangles short of a full picnic hamper, but she was completely evil. When she had her strength, she hunted and killed in ways humans never dared dream of. She was a living nightmare and he had made her.

'Dru, I'm so sorry,' he murmured.

'For fucks sake Angel, quit it. We need you at full strength, not feeling sorry for yourself. Them bloody wankers'll come in here anytime.'

The door opened and the collection of Dru's entourage and several of the demons Spike could recognise destroying came into the room. Angel stepped back so that he was half covering the others, unconsciously guarding Spike with his body. Megan breathed out, never having seen this many unnatural creatures collected in one room.

'Suddenly feeling like a gatecrasher,' she murmured.

Wesley squeezed her hand.

'I won't let them hurt you.'

She gave him a wink of gratitude, but it didn't ease her fears.

I'm going to die, she thought for the...she didn't know how many times it had been today...I'm going to die in this dank place and no one is going to know. Could life suck anymore?

One of the demons released Drusilla and set her back on her dainty feet. She grinned like a child and gestured to Megan. The rest of the ensemble turned to look at her and moved forward, a predatory look on every face.

And apparently it can, thought Megan swiftly, as they closed in on her. Remind me never to ask dumb questions again.
 

*
 

'So this is your place then, huh?' asked Cordelia looking over Doyle's messy front room. 'It's...homey.'

'You hate it,' grinned Doyle. 'Not everyone can afford a place with their very own ghost you know?'

She looked at him and put her bag down on the sofa.

'It's not as dumpy as I expected.'

She ran a hand along the back of the table. It was clean.

'Wesley?'

Doyle nodded.

'He likes things tidy.'

'So I see.'

She smiled up at him and Doyle wondered how long his luck was going to hold out for. Surely it wasn't possible to have the girl AND an empty apartment all in one night? Nobody was that lucky, and Doyle knew he wasn't that lucky. And yet, here he was, long night out with the woman of his dreams and she'd followed him willingly back to the apartment he shared with Wesley and the ex-watcher wasn't in.

Could fate be that generous?

He reached for the bottle he'd been saving.

'Do you drink whisky?'

She raised an eyebrow.

'Not in this lifetime. Is that all you've got?'

He inclined his head and she grinned.

'It's okay,' said Cordelia, 'I wasn't all that thirsty anyway.'

She tilted her head up and as he bent to kiss her, Doyle wondered why he felt so uncomfortable. This was what he'd wanted for so long. Wesley had graciously taken defeat, albeit in defeat of whom, Doyle didn't know. The place was theirs for the asking and Doyle couldn't relax. What was with him?

'Cordelia?' he said before his lips met hers. 'There's something I wanna tell you.'

She leaned back a little and looked solemnly up at him.

'This isn't another bit of demonology I'm not familiar with, is it?'

He laughed and shook his head.

'No, you're clear on that score. Half Bracken is all I am.'

'And a seer.'

'That too.'

She shrugged.

'So what's the big?'

He sat down next to her and drank from the glass, steeling himself.

'You know, Princess, that I've wanted to have you in my arms from the first moment I met you?'

She nodded. Naturally.

'And you know Wesley had the hots for you too.'

She nodded again. Even more naturally.

'Well I think...'

'Yes?'

'I mean, I know...'

He sighed. Just how difficult was this to tell her?

Okay, it's very difficult, but if I want anything with this girl she has the right to know that I kissed Wesley.

Oh man.

And her reaction is going to be what?

Abject hysteria?

Disbelief?

Humiliation?

Disgust?

Does she really need to know?

He sighed again.

'Nothing, Sweetheart, nothing that matters.'

She looked at him for a moment, waiting for the explanation she as sure was coming, but he settled back and seemed to push his troubles away. She leaned back against him and Doyle grinned at her in that amiable Irish way of his.

'Come here and kiss me, Princess.'

'Glad too,' she murmured, leaning in for another of those alcohol tainted kisses.

It was the sweetest kiss she'd had in a long time. With Xander it had always been about the lust thing. There was plenty of that here, no question, but this wasn't playtime for school kids. They were talking about a whole grown up section that she wanted to explore. It was like a big map on which most places were charted and she and Doyle had just passed the sign entitled, 'Here be Dragons'. Or here be demons.

Either or.

Whatever it was, it felt just right.

'Argh!'

Doyle pulled back, shaking and shuddering and for a moment Cordelia wondered if she was cursed.

'Doyle?'

He shook in her arms a moment, his head swirling with the images and feelings in front of him. His head pounded, his heart pounded, and Doyle slipped down further in the sofa as he came out of it.

'What? What did you see?'

He felt the sweat drip down his forehead.

'It's Angel...'

'Yeah?'

'He's in trouble.'

She got to her feet.

'Right, so we go get Spike and Wesley and find him.'

Doyle shook his head.

'They're already down there with him. And a girl.'

She blinked at him.

'So what do we do?'

Doyle got unsteadily to his feet.

'Go raid his fucking armoury.'
 

*
 

Spike was used to commanding troupes of vampires. He'd led them through Hell and high water to achieve things to entertain his Princess...well, not literally Hell. He'd left that one to Angel. But he had been there, in charge of demons and vampires and all manner of things that went more than bump in the dark. Being on the other end of a pointy demon tooth was quite the new and unwelcome experience.

'Er, Dru, Pet. Mind calling off the bloody cavalry?'

Drusilla ignored him completely, her attention gathered by something quite new. She was unperturbed by Spike now, as though he and Angel no longer mattered. If the demons were holding them too tightly, well then it was all just in fun. They weren't her playmates anymore and she would have to invent new ones.

And that was all fine with her.

Angel looked left and right, aware he could break the grip of the demon holding him, but even more aware that Wesley wouldn't be able to break free fast enough to prevent his head being ripped off by the hungry looking fyaral demon that held him. Spike was another concern. Although Angel was pretty sure that his lover could handle himself well enough against any one of the local demon populace, the room was crowded with several who held more than a fleeting grudge against the English vampire.

Add to that the fact that Drusilla seemed to have completely forgotten about them and things added up to one corpse and two very big piles of dust.

Not good odds.

Drusilla smiled beatifically at them all, waiting for applause for the performance she'd given. Insane she was, had been so for so many years now that her sanity was but a fleeting remembrance. But she was also a gifted predator and she had made her own decision for the first time, able to act out her own wants and desires in this place.

Since Spike had betrayed them all to the Slayer, she found she could no longer trust in his undying...undead love and had rejected that unsurety. Angel was once again lost to the powers of good and had replaced the Slayer in his heart with her own paramour.

Such things should not go unpunished.

She was lonely, wanting someone who once again only existed for her. Only believed and loved her. Was bound to her through blood. She had made a playmate once and Angelus had taken him from her, giving him back only as the gypsies cursed his unholy body. For a century, she had been contented, knowing, in her own way that she was beloved, prime empress in his heart. She needed someone to fulfil that role and who better than the one she had chosen.

'Megan,' purred Drusilla.

The girl stood in front of the vampire, trying hard to not fall to pieces in the face of her fear. She was doing well, so she believed. She'd not given in to tears, or tremblings, and only Wesley noticed how tightly she was gripping her fist, driving her fingernails deep into her skin. He willed her not to, knowing that the scent of blood would only rouse the vampire more.

Drusilla stroked down the side of Megan's face with her long fingernails, sniffing the air and grinning at the girl's fear. It had felt so long, without Spike at her side and she was hungry for a new start, a time when she and her companion would once again reign supreme. When she would be Princess and her love would bring her presents and pets, all to please and appease her.

Megan stared at Drusilla for a moment, sensing her time was growing short. She shifted her vision to Angel and Spike, wondering if they'd be able to free her before the vampire had drunk her dry. Angel could only offer her a pitying, sorrowful look and Spike was too busy glaring at Drusilla to meet her gaze. She was alone in the spider's web and waiting for the killing blow.

'Mine,' said Drusilla playfully, 'When this is done, we'll play together.'

She moved in close to whisper in the girl's ear.

'I'll let you have that one as your first dinner, if you'd like.'

Megan shivered then, looking at Wesley. She gathered what was left of her strength and heard herself panting, struggling to calm down.

'I would rather be dead, than spend a single second of eternity as your companion.'

Drusilla drew back as if she'd been hit. She didn't understand. Didn't this human know what she was giving? Didn't she know that life as a vampire was eternal bliss, a freedom from the constraints of mortality and a succulent pleasure given over and over with each kill?

Spike looked up at Megan's words. If that bloody human could say something, even if it did go down as wishful bloody thinking, then he was fucked if he wasn't gonna go down fighting. So Dru wanted someone like him, to do just what he'd done for a century. If she turned the girl before he managed to get to her, then Spike would stake the fledge himself rather than let Dru have her. Family wasn't always cosy, but it was what you have. They were the people you stayed with, the ones you look after and, Spike admitted to himself, they weren't the same people as he'd once believed.

He turned his head slightly to Angel, waiting until the vampire caught his eye. The dark head was turned away from him, staring at the wall, contemplating the guilt that had arisen from meeting Dru again and the knowledge that he would be unable to do anything to stop the next events. When he finally shifted his gaze to Spike, it was as though he'd heard Spike's silent calling, and the subtle nod he gave left the blond with hope. Something could be done and the bloodier the better.

What he wasn't prepared for was to feel the same mental tug from his other side. Wesley was staring at him, a look of fierce determination on that often-worried brow. Spike grinned, wondering where this mental connection had come from and then dismissing the thought. If they got through this...when they got through this, there would be time enough for asking questions then. He'd just have to trust that whatever it was, it would stay with them long enough to get away and get everything that needed to be done, accomplished.

Drusilla watched Megan, seeing in the line of her jaw an obstinate set that Spike had often worn. It will be only for others after you've turned her, some voice whispered. Just do it and she'll be yours forever. Spike was mine forever, she protested, Angel was mine forever.

Forever didn't last long enough.

Then take care of this one, be protective until she can...will protect you. Just take her now and let her become. Let her taste what you are.

Drusilla smiled again and shifted into her vampire face. Megan shuddered, but kept staring out the vampire Princess.

'It will all be over in a little while,' murmured Drusilla, 'All mine, soon.'

She grasped the girl by her shoulders and buried her face in her lean neck, seeking out the pulse that thrummed in her head. It smelled so sweet, the blood that flowed through it and as her fangs grazed the skin, both women groaned in unison. Megan cast her mind back, trying to recall everything she lived for, everything she believed and wondered why she had resisted this obvious fate for so long. As the fangs pierced her skin and Drusilla began to drink, she cried out, the pain overshadowed by a sense of loss.

I will not be the same after this. I am Megan McGill now, but things will be different ever after. I will never know a sunrise or the pleasure of a warm Spring day. I never finished my course, or climbed that damn mountain.

But I have lived.

God Dammit I have lived more than this harpy would ever have believed. And I am more than damned if I let her have this now!

She thrust at Drusilla's shoulders and dislodged the vampire with a painful yelp. Dru was snarling, her feral side to the fore, unheeding any danger signals, accepting that the price to pay for taking a life was steep, but that she was giving something even more precious in return. She leapt forward and knocked the girl to the floor, reaching for the wound in her neck and trying to sink her teeth in once more. But Megan had found something to fight for and, despite the heavy blood loss, was making it hard for the vampire to find her mark.

Spike watched the melee with more than a note of admiration. Apparently his line had all been fighters he was glad to note. Shame to let it get fucked up now. He nodded to Angel and felt the agreement in both men's minds.

Now.

Angel grasped the demon that was holding him and flung his grip off, aware that the other two were doing the same. Everyone had been so preoccupied with the floorshow that their grip had loosened and attention was lacking. The fyaral snarled and Angel smacked him upside his jaw, pleased as Hell to be able to hit something without feeling bloody guilty! Spike seemed to be having a whale of a time, knocking out demons left and right, punching and kicking with a vengeance that both pleased and excited Angel. When I get you out of here, he thought to himself as he delivered a particularly well executed roundhouse. I'm going to shag you up against a wall and I don't care who sees.

Well I do a bit.

Only if they're people I know.

Bang.

The demon hit him hard and Angel pushed down his erotic thoughts as he went thoroughly to town on the fyaral. Spike grabbed anything within reach and punched, kicked and obliterated his way through the demons. They did, it was true, have size and strength on their sides, but as their intelligence wasn't all that high, (they had been hanging out with Drusilla, after all) Spike was having great fun dodging and appearing just where their fists weren't.

'This is the bloody life!' he yelled cheerfully.

'This is Megan's death,' shouted Wesley from beneath one of his captors. 'We've got to help her!'

Spike snorted and headed over to where Drusilla had forcibly pinned the girl to the ground. He was as pissed off as he'd ever been and she was causing him the biggest problems he'd seen in a good while. More than that, she was standing between him and Angel getting their rocks off with the aftermath of a good fight.

'Dru, just get the bloody Hell off her.'

Drusilla ignored him and started to drink form the struggling woman. Spike met Megan's eyes and saw the blatant message in them.

<Well? What are you going to do about it?>

Spike bent down to pull her away, but only succeeded in pulling them both upright. Megan was fading fast, but her gaze never left Spike's.

<What are you prepared to do?>

Angel stepped forward, his opponents dealt with but unable, somehow to finish off Drusilla, no matter what it cost them. There were some things he knew he couldn't do, and had it been for Spike, he would have snatched a stake and plunged it in her evil heart. But it wasn't Spike and he knew that her heart had once been as pure as daylight before he had corrupted her.

Spike grabbed at the girls, trying to separate one from the other.

'Damn it, Dru! Let the bloody girl go! Find someone else!'

She kept drinking and Spike could feel the last of the girl's blood seeping away. Her eyes closed and Spike knew he had only one option. But he didn't have one. He never wielded one normally and he had never envisioned in his wildest dreams that he would be plunging one inside Drusilla's chest.

He felt something against his shoulder and turned quickly to see Doyle's face, a stake pressed in his hand.

'You don't have to do this, man.'

Spike looked back at the women.

'I fucking started it.'

He snatched the stake up.

'So I'm the one who bloody ends it.'
 

Impact
 

There was a brief moment of stillness and then, as though she had never been between them, Megan fell forward into her ancestor's embrace, the dust of the woman who had been his beloved settling over both their bodies. Spike cradled it against him, softly stroking the dark hair, for a moment wishing it was his Princess, that it had never come to this.

But he was a realist and in under a moment he had let the girl fall into Wesley's arms, turning and facing the only man who understood. The man he loved. The man who had made everything possible...and everything painful. The one who made his existence worth bearing.

Angel met his gaze as Cordelia and Doyle looked at the carnage inside the room, glad that there had only been a few stragglers on its exterior. The sorrow in that look was all too clear and Spike shed one solitary tear for the vampire who had been his mate.

Nothing can last eternity.

Angel stepped forward and let Spike hold him, caressing his body, as though he were making sure the dark vampire had not vanished along with Drusilla. Angel knew that within days, perhaps less, Spike would be his usual self again...the vampire wasn't given to brooding, he half-smiled. But for now, he offered the best comfort he could, wanting to take him home and show him that love lost, is never unworthy and that there could be another option.

'I love you,' he whispered against Spike's neck.

Spike closed his eyes and squeezed his lover.

'You're not brooding are you?'

Angel half-laughed.

'No, just letting you know it's okay.'

'Cause if you were bloody brooding, I'd have to take you home and shag you until you couldn't remember your name, if that's the way of things.'

Angel smiled and stroked Spike's hair. If that's the way you want it, Love.

'Maybe you'll have to tell me how that's done.'

Spike chuckled.

'I'll do better than tell you, Peaches.'

'Yeah?'

'Yeah. I'll show just what I have in mind.'

They walked out then, Wesley and the others far ahead, carrying the nearly dead girl to a place of safety. For now, neither vampire was concerned with anything else in the world. Lines had been crossed tonight and they deserved their peace, taking time out from the good fight and searching out their own personal battles.

Nothing lasts eternity.
 

*
 

'Well I'd say the butterscotch is a must have.'

They looked at Cordelia, amazed that she had any opinion at all on hospital food. Doyle shrugged and looked at the list they'd been given, wondering how she could know all this stuff, when she'd given the impression of never having touched an open ward in her life.

Angel hung uncomfortably by the door, aware that he hadn't tried to save the life of the chirpy young woman in the bed. He hadn't wanted to come at all, preferring the solitude of his home, liking the way he and Spike could spend literally hours with each other, with no need for any other form of outside entertainment. But Spike had grinned in that oh so appealing way and promised a type of bondage that involved strawberry liquorice and Angel had been lost in a world of icy blue, his lust and his love compelling him to obey.

Spike himself was reading Megan's chart, wondering if they would mind if he altered one or two stats and if they'd do something particularly nasty if he made out she was suffering from more than just heavy blood loss. Wesley had brought her in here claiming that something had bitten her and drained her blood and the staff, following that all too familiar, we accept this story because the alternative is too out there, had treated her accordingly. Several pints later and Spike was in possession of his only living relative once more.

'Put that down, Spike,' said Wesley. 'I'm sure the last thing the doctor's want is to find that you've been altering things about.'

Spike grinned and placed it back on the bed.

'I think it'd probably brighten their bloody day up, actually, Ducks.'

Megan grinned and shook her head.

'They'd probably do all sorts of embarrassing tests, which is exactly what you hoped. So no thanks Granddad.'

'I told you not to call me that, Pet.'

'Get used to it.'

The nurse popped her head round.

'Visiting time's over. Move out people, there's only supposed to be two to a bed anyway.'

Spike winked lasciviously at the woman as they got up to leave.

'Always been more up for an orgy myself.'

Angel grabbed his hand and pulled him close.

'You'd better be kidding.'

Spike kissed him and grinned.

'Always you, Peaches. You know that.'

'Yeah, I know that.'

They left quietly, except for Wesley and he dawdled by the bed, wanting to put how sorry he was about this into words. How does one apologise and ask a girl out at the same time? It's hardly the done thing, is it?

'Wesley, come sit down, please?'

He perched on the side of the bed.

'Anything you need, just ask.'

She grinned at him.

'Anything?'

Wesley blinked at the euphemism and was rewarded by a bewitching smile.

'I just want you to stay a half hour, is all.'

'But nurse said...'

'She said you could stay when I asked earlier.'

He looked at her nonplussed.

'But, why?'

She kissed him firmly on the lips and leant back again.

'Because we had a date for dinner.'

The trays of steaming hospital food came towards them both and Wesley looked, amazed at the woman. He turned back to Megan, but she was looking hungrily at the meal.

'Are you always like this with men?'

She grinned at him. A very Spike like grin.

'Only when I'm hungry.'

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