Warp & Weft

By Medea

Chapter Three

As Spike descended to the council chamber, he opened himself to the emotional bond he shared with his Mates. Willow's warm affection immediately swelled within him, flooding his senses like a rose's sweet perfume. He closed his eyes briefly and smiled, as if he were indeed in a moonlit garden, surrounded by blood-red blooms. When he shifted his focus to his other Mate, it didn't surprise him to sense that Angel was troubled. If Peaches had holed up in the basement while everyone else was making merry in the lobby, it meant only one thing:

Ponce was brooding again. Probably over that business Murdoch raised about the clans earlier.

Pillock.

So there was a problem: so what else was new? So it involved feeding: a lot of the disputes they'd be called on to resolve would. Angel knew that before they agreed to this arrangement. No need to agonize over it, though. The way Spike saw it, if they managed to shut down this black market, shut it down permanently and stop it from preying on the locals for their body parts, Angel'd score points in his appointed mission to Save The Humans.

The blond vampire stood at the entrance to the underground chamber and quietly observed as Angel sat, so lost in thought that he didn't sense the presence of one of his Mates. As Spike watched, a small, wistful smile danced on his lips. Seeing Angel ensconced in a secluded corner, hunched over in deep reflection, instantly evoked a memory that was forever burned into Spike's very essence.

As he found Angel now, so Angelus had once found him...

//London, 1874//

The cold, desolate alley was the perfect place to conceal himself while he wept over this latest, bitter disappointment.

Or so William thought as he hunched over his knees, quietly sobbing, with sheets of ridiculed poetry crumpled in his fists. But unfortunately for the despondent, young clerk who aspired beyond his station, he would not enjoy his privacy for long.

Scarcely ten minutes after the dejected, would-be suitor had ensconced himself on a sturdy crate in the dank, shadowy recess, hidden from any curious passersby, a tall shadow fell across him. Through his tears, William spied a pair of elegant, black leather shoes, which suggested a gentleman rather than a pickpocket.

"I wish to be alone," William muttered bitterly, not looking up at the intrusive stranger. He realized he had been rude, but at the moment he was too distraught to make the customary pleasantries.

"Ahh, but that's not what it seems like ta me. I'd say yer cryin' because yer tired of bein' alone. Ya want to be with someone...but ya can't," the stranger taunted smoothly.

William's head snapped up and he scowled indignantly at the impertinent, dark-haired man. For a few moments, William scrutinized him. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and had a face that ladies probably found handsome. His bearing was...well, if not genteel, it was definitely lordly. Commanding, perhaps. Yet there was something rough about him. His hands looked strong and capable, like the hands of a workman. Chestnut hair framed his face like an unkempt lion's mane, a few strands dangling over his strong, prominent brow.

The man's presence disturbed him.

In between gulped breaths, William managed to choke, "What do y-you know? I'll th-thank you not to speculate on my affairs."

"And what affairs could a man like you have?"

That voice! It was maddening...infuriating...and something else...William couldn't quite place it, but it made his blood boil. Something about the stranger's rich, lilting brawl and arrogant tone provoked him to abandon his characteristic decorum.

William rose to his feet and drew himself up haughtily. Trembling, he insisted, "That's none of your concern."

"Don't worry. From the looks of ya, I doubt there's anything ya could have done that would be much cause fer concern."

"How dare you!?!" His sorrow forgotten, William stalked angrily toward his unwelcome companion--

--who regarded him with a calm, bemused twinkle in captivating, deep brown eyes.

"That's more like it!" the stranger congratulated approvingly. "Tell me ya haven't been wanting to say that all night."

William froze. He stared in disbelief at the vexing man who'd had the audacity to intrude on a very private moment. The despondent poet was stunned to realize that the man's words struck a chord.

"Tell me this ain't better than weepin' in the dark over -- what? An insult? A slander?"

"A rejection," William whispered absently, his eyes staring vacantly into the distance.

The tall, imposing stranger slowly moved closer. "And ya wish ya could've said it ta her," he deduced with uncanny insight.

"To all of them," William admitted softly. He closed his eyes and saw all of them at the party, ridiculing him, mocking him. They had all treated him contemptibly; Cecily had merely been the one to say it. To say those horrible words.

<*You're beneath me.*>

When William opened his eyes, he was struck once again by the stranger's steady, intense gaze. As ill-mannered as he seemed, this tall, dark intruder regarded him with more interest than Cecily and her coterie had ever done. It nearly made William cry: in this man's eyes, he saw an acknowledgment of his own humanity, of his own existence -- something his peers had never shown him. William hadn't even realized what he'd been lacking until this moment.

A hesitant smile tugged at William's lips before he came to his senses and schooled his features into a suitably polite, neutral mask. "This conversation is highly irregular. I say, what do you mean by this... this inquisition? Do we know each other?"

The dark-haired man grinned devilishly. "Not as I'm aware. If it's a proper introduction ya want, my name's Angelus."

"Well, Mr. Angelus--"

"Just Angelus," the man interrupted, eyeing William with an appreciative smile that the poet found somewhat unnerving. His heart sank as he began to suspect why this man had taken such an interest in him.

William blinked and fidgeted nervously. "Yes, well...I'm afraid I'm not in the habit of discussing my private life with strangers in an alley."

"But we're not quite strangers, are we? I've introduced myself, although sadly ya have not done me the same courtesy," Angelus countered laughingly.

Stiffening, William raised his chin imperiously at the man who continued to taunt him with clever phrases and eyes that seduced. "William Sinclair. And you needn't bother -- I know what you are."

Angelus arched an eyebrow. "Ya do, do ya? What am I, then?"

"Unnatural, is what you are," William replied, peering loftily over the top of his wire-rimmed spectacles. "Some people say your kind are damned for your sins against nature. You needn't bother trying to corrupt me. I'm no invert. I have no inclinations toward 'manly love'. I'm a decent man."

"Some people say?" Angelus prompted, cocking his head to the side. "What do you say? Do ya think I'm damned?"

"I...you...you're twisting my words," William stammered, blushing self-consciously. Would this infernal man never stop staring at him?

As if reading his mind, Angelus turned away, clasped his hands behind his back and gazed thoughtfully up at the sooty London rooftops. "Say I were the sort who liked to corrupt decent folks like yerself. Ya think I'd need ta work this hard at it?"

William gaped in shock.

Angelus glanced slyly at him. "Ya think I'd bother with a decent man when there're proper young ladies out there ta be had? All of 'em high an' mighty, holdin' themselves aloof -- so ripe fer the pluckin'..."

"That's...scandalous!" William sputtered. His cheeks flushed hotly, although he wasn't sure if it was because he found the man's audacity appalling -- or enviable.

Or...compelling. No! He wouldn't let himself be seduced! William knew what was happening. As a poet, words were his weakness, and this stranger, this Angelus, was obviously very artful with words. He spoke plainly, with a conviction that William envied, yet the gentle lilt of his voice made his words so appealing.

So beautiful.

"Aye, that it is," Angelus agreed with a chuckle. It rumbled from his throat like a soothing purr and, against his better judgment, William found himself relaxing.

"But, then, ya've observed yerself that I don't much care fer the rules of polite society," Angelus added.

Smiling wistfully, William murmured, "No, apparently not."

A profound sense of frustration coiled within him. This Angelus was outspoken to the point of boorishness, yet William wished he had the courage to speak as freely. How he would love to repay his peers' disdain in similar coin.

"I don't care fer propriety," Angelus repeated, "any more than I care fer cryin' in dark alleys." Once again, William gaped at him in shock, but Angelus continued unperturbed. "I'll no' let the scorn of a bunch of peacocks be the death of me. Give me scandal and debauchery any day. All the better ta let 'em know how little I value their esteem."

William shook his head, eyes downcast. "I know what you're trying to do. There's no point in trying to tempt me--"

"Are ya sayin' ya find that temptin'?" Angelus interrupted.

"Yes--NO! I don't--" William stammered. Flustered, he was unable to make himself back away as Angelus slowly walked toward him.

Angelus drew up intimately against William's body. The young poet felt overwhelmed by conflicting responses. He was both shocked at the bold gesture, flushed at how...pleasurable...the sensation was, and horrified that he found this inappropriate contact appealing. The war of his emotions paralyzed him. Angelus leaned closer, never shifting his gaze from William's.

His lips a mere hair's breadth from William's, Angelus murmured, "Bein' tempted doesn't make ya unnatural. It makes ya human. What's unnatural is the lot of rules yer fine society lords over ya ta make sure ya never feel anything -- not love, not yer own worth, not even the tiniest moment of happiness. Yer tempted, William, no denyin' it. But it doesn't mean yer damned or an invert. It means somewhere inside, ye've enough sense ta know ya deserve better than scorn."

A single tear spilled from William's eye, ran down his cheek and pooled on his lips. Angelus seemed mesmerized by the salty drop. His eyes fixed on it almost hungrily until slowly, seductively, he licked it away with his tongue. Before William had the chance to recover from the shock of feeling another man's tongue on his lips, Angelus was kissing him.

The crumpled pages of poetry, which William had forgotten he'd been clutching in his hands, fluttered to the ground as the utter sweetness of the kiss loosened his grip.

All too soon, Angelus pulled away. William couldn't prevent a whimper of disappointment at the loss, but an instant later his whimper turned into a breathy moan as Angelus boldly cupped his hand over William's groin. William's entire frame swayed and his eyes slipped shut at the delirious sensation of Angelus stroking his swollen flesh through layers of clothing, gently but firmly building a relentless rhythm. To the respectable young man's shame, he couldn't summon the strength to resist, and instead found his hips thrusting in compliance with his seducer's touch.

"Yes-ss," Angelus hissed against the soft skin just beneath William's jaw. Slowly, Angelus circled his thumb over the tip of William's manhood, sending a toe-curling bolt of pleasure through him.

Angelus teased his neck with wet flicks of the tongue and hungry yet tender love bites. Then, bringing his lips close to William's ear, he whispered, "Yer a perceptive, honest man, William. Ya were right, I do want ta corrupt ya. But as much as ya see things for what they are, ya only let yerself see so far. Ya saw plain that I wanted ya, ya saw those who mocked ya for the weak, arrogant fools they are, but ya don't see yerself for what *you* are."

William's voice caught in his throat and he gazed, cheeks flushed, lips parted, at Angelus as the darker man drew back enough to feast upon him with lust-filled eyes. Mesmerized, William lost himself in warm, sable pools. Angelus brought both hands up to William's face and caressed his cheeks. "William...You. Are. Beautiful," Angelus fervently stressed each word. "Ya deserve better than a self-absorbed *lady* who'd trample yer heart and send ya out into the street. And ya deserve ta feel more worth than ye've been granted by *proper* society."

Tears stung at William's eyes.

Here before him he beheld temptation itself. The serpent had revealed to him that longed-for, forbidden fruit. William desperately wanted to be loved as he loved, wanted the esteem of his peers. But even more, he wanted the confidence Angelus so clearly possessed. The timid poet yearned for that freedom.

Angelus bid him taste.

"I offer ya the chance ta feel, ta really *feel* for once in yer life, and propriety be damned. Polite society's shown no concern for ya, William. I say, show no concern fer them and their hypocritical morality. I can bring ya pleasure 'til ya revel in the sheer glory of who ya are. But ya have ta want it."

Somewhere deep inside his chest, something snapped. It felt to William as though he were shaking free of heavy chains that had been weighing him down.

Angelus leaned close enough for William to feel the man's eyelashes brush against his face. Whispering against William's lips, he asked, "Do ya want it?"

William's reply flooded out in a cathartic sigh. "Oh, yes...God, yes!"

So swiftly that it left him spinning, Angelus covered his mouth in a bruising, ravenous kiss. William felt like he was being devoured, but he was beyond caring. He had made his choice. All hesitance gone, he seized Angelus, gripping tightly at his long, dark hair, and pressed their mouths together even more fiercely.

His heart pounded in his chest when Angelus pulled away and held out his hand to lead William from the alley. William extended his own hand and let Angelus draw him forward. He followed his soon-to-be lover in a daze, barely noticing his surroundings as they walked through the nearly deserted streets. In no time at all, it seemed, they were entering an elegant house in an unfamiliar district.

From the foyer, William surveyed Angelus's sitting room with an appreciative eye. Heavy drapes of deep, burgundy velvet hung in front of the windows. Together with the thick, Persian rug, the damask settee and ornate, Hindoo artifacts that graced the mantel, they gave the room a sumptuous, exotic atmosphere.

William's perusal of the furnishings was cut short when Angelus pulled him close and once more began ravishing his mouth. The dark-haired man gently guided him up the stairs, never releasing his lips. When William next opened his eyes, he was in a spacious bedroom with a huge, four-poster bed that nonetheless seemed dwarfed beneath the vaulted ceiling. Angelus released him and crossed to sit on the plush coverlet draped across the bed. William's pulse raced and his stomach quivered in anticipation.

"Take off yer shirt, William," the whispered command practically floated in the air.

Timidly, William loosened his cravat and looked around for a valet or bureau, or even a nearby chair. At Angelus's amused expression, the young man paused, glanced at the epitome of respectable attire in his hand, then let it drop to the floor. Smiling shyly, but warming to the symbolic, ritual shedding of all that constrained him, William shrugged out of his suit coat and let it pile in an undignified heap at his feet. Soon, his vest followed, then his shirt.

Naked to the waist, his chest bathed in the glow of candles that Angelus had been busy lighting while he was undressing, William fidgeted self-consciously under his companion's steady gaze.

"Bring yerself out," Angelus demanded in a low, seductive voice. "Let me see ya."

A sudden flush of heat washed over William at the thought of uncovering himself in such intimate circumstances. It wasn't that he'd never been exposed to a man's gaze. After all, he'd consulted a physician before. But this was different. He hesitated for a moment. His upbringing shouted at him that this was indecent! Yet a new voice, the same one that had driven him to follow a stranger back to his home, spurred him to place his hands on his belt. William felt vulnerable and desired all at once as he fumbled with the buckle and then the fastenings of his trousers. At last, he eased his stiffened member free, then let his hands drop to his sides. He stood breathlessly as Angelus studied him with an admiring smile.

"Come ta me," Angelus beckoned.

William complied. Angelus ran his fingertip lightly along the eager flesh that strained forward, eliciting a soft moan from the nervous poet. Strong, powerful hands eased William's trousers and underclothes down his legs, then came around to cup his fleshy cheeks, pulling him closer. When Angelus closed his mouth over William's length and began to suck, the young man squeezed his eyes shut, flung his head back and let out a cry of pure, unadulterated delight. The pleasure was so intense, William felt his knees give out. Without breaking the rhythm of his suckling, Angelus steadied him, then slowly turned him and eased him back against the bed. With skillful lips and tongue, Angelus built his pleasure steadily from a slow burn to a raging fire. Finally, when William's body was taut beyond bearing, he surrendered his release to his lover, who drank him down greedily.

As William lay panting from his first completion ever by the hand -- or, rather, mouth -- of another, Angelus quickly divested himself of his own clothing, then finished undressing William. William's skin tingled at the feel of naked flesh against his own, even if Angelus did seem unusually cold.

"So, my beautiful William," Angelus purred, gazing into his eyes. "How does it feel ta be corrupted?"

William laughed. The sound warbled forth from him with ease and his entire body felt relaxed. "It. Feels. Wonderful," he proclaimed with dramatic flair, losing himself in Angelus's eyes. "Effulgent!" he added with giddy abandon.

Angelus chuckled in return, and his feral, absolutely sinful expression took William's breath away. Without a word, Angelus eased down, slid his tongue over a beaded nipple, then tugged it between his teeth. William groaned, ran his hands over his lover's broad, muscular shoulders, and gave himself up to every sensual pleasure Angelus saw fit to teach him.

Angelus coaxed him through an intimate, tactile exploration, persuading William to map the terrain of his imposing body first with hands, then with his lips and tongue. The larger man laughed at William's sputtering reaction to his first taste of semen when his naïve but enthusiastic ministrations brought forth Angelus's release. Angelus fetched a decanter of claret to cleanse William's palate and they drank together, stealing kisses in between sips.

William grew dizzy with wine and passion. He'd never felt so alive! He rested his head in Angelus's lap as his tutor in fleshly matters recounted the most vile, sordid gossip he had heard about London's elites at recent soirées. William laughed until tears streamed down his cheeks to envision such scandalous things about the very people who had humiliated him earlier.

Then, laughter was forgotten as Angelus made love to him again.

They recited poetry by candlelight.

To William's delight, Angelus was remarkably well-read. He quoted classical poetry at length, and his recitation of Lord Byron's 'Darkness' gave William chills of dreadful rapture.

Still, William was too shy to share his own writings without considerable coaxing from his new lover. After William's soft, halting recitation of a few of his original compositions, Angelus did not lie to him. They were indeed mediocre, the phrases clumsy and forced. But when Angelus spoke of the pure, beauteous sentiments that lay behind the awkward verses, like the first, fresh, tender shoots of spring straining to burst free of the earth, William broke down and cried.

He wept against his lover's neck as Angelus caressed him.

Never had anyone shown William such tenderness. It was enough to break his heart. Although, in a way, he no longer had a heart to break.

Tonight, he'd lost it to Angelus.

When his swarthy Adonis rolled him on his side and enveloped him from behind in a tight embrace, William eagerly pressed back. Utterly pliant beneath sturdy hands, William yielded as Angelus nudged his thigh between William's legs, parting them wide. At the feel of smooth, stiffened flesh sliding between his crease and along the underside of his own engorged member, William shuddered in ecstasy. His breathing grew rapid and he rolled his hips, again and again, hungry for the delicious friction. Angelus moved with him, kneading his fleshy buttocks. When a thick finger teased the tight ring of muscle, William tensed nervously.

Everything he had experienced this evening was new to him, but this...this was sordid. He hadn't let himself think of it, and now Angelus wanted to...he wanted...

A cool hand closed over William's erection. Angelus whispered reassuringly, "Relax, William. Trust me. It will be wonderful."

"I..." William began, but his voice choked.

Angelus hushed him, lulling him into complacency with steady strokes along his erection. Suddenly, the finger was pressing against him again, slowly sinking into his virgin passage. William couldn't prevent himself from tensing at the intrusion. It felt unnatural.

Then the finger crooked slightly and brushed against a wonderful, brilliant place William never knew existed. He gave a startled, though not unhappy, yelp and quivered against Angelus. Slowly, Angelus withdrew his finger, then thrust deeper, setting up a gentle rhythm. No longer resisting, William rocked against him. When Angelus removed his finger and began to ease in his cock with painstaking caution, William's fear was tempered by breathless anticipation of the pleasure he had only recently discovered was possible from this kind of contact.

There was pain, immense, excruciating pain, so much that it made him whimper. Once fully seated within him, Angelus stilled for a moment, then pulled back. William hissed in discomfort. And then something changed. When Angelus thrust forward again, he brushed that sensitive, mysterious place and what had been pain was turned to excruciating pleasure. A moan rumbled all the way up from his groin and spilled from his lips.

Through the haze of lust that clouded his mind, William could have sworn he heard Angelus respond with an animalistic growl.

"Touch yerself," Angelus commanded hoarsely before nipping at William's earlobe.

Panting, William wrapped his hand around his straining erection and began to stroke in counterpoint to the deep, pleasurable feel of Angelus thrusting within him. A firm, cool hand covered his, guiding his pace and teasing his flesh as the fingers snaked between his own. Delirious, William softly chanted his lover's name as he approached his climax. Slippery fluid leaked from the tip of his swollen member and coated their fingers. William's chants grew louder. Suddenly, as William's strokes increased to a frenzied pitch, Angelus removed his hand and brought it to the young man's chin, raising it to expose the slender length of his neck. At the precise moment that William's entire frame racked with his powerful, blinding release, he felt Angelus shudder and clamp down on his neck.

William's heart raced and for a few moments he saw stars. Then, slowly, a strange, uncomfortable sensation penetrated his addled mind. It was a dull, throbbing ache, not unlike the lingering pain he'd felt after the dentist had pulled a tooth several years ago. The soreness blossomed out from where Angelus's mouth suckled at his neck.

Concerned, William murmured, "A-Angelus?...Angelus, you're hurting me."

When strong arms tightened around him in response, William grew alarmed. "What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice rising in pitch.

Still no answer.

Something warm and wet trickled down from his neck and over his chest. Trembling, William looked down. He saw a thin trail of blood winding across his skin. It pooled at his nipple until a thick, teary drop formed, clung for a moment, then fell to stain the crisp, white linen sheets. For one, horrifying instant, William stared at it in morbid fascination. Then, throwing all his force into a desperate, mighty heave, he broke free of Angelus's steel embrace and scrambled to his feet.

In shock, William brought his hand up to his neck, felt a wetness on his fingertips, and pulled his hand away to find it stained with blood. Appalled, he turned to confront Angelus. What he saw magnified his shock a hundredfold.

Where he had expected to see the smooth, handsome face of his lover, he saw instead a hideous monster. Cruel, yellow eyes glared at him, and soft lips were now contorted in a sneer filled with jagged fangs.

"Wh-what...are...you?" William gasped.

The creature who called himself Angelus chuckled. "Didnae I tell ya, William? Ya see things fer what they are. Ya told me I was unnatural when first we met, that some would even call me damned, and ya were right. Ya let a vampire take ya ta his bed, and I must say, it's been a pleasure corruptin' ya. Such a proper little idealist -- God-fearin', too, no doubt."

As he spoke, Angelus moved toward William, a hunter stalking its prey. William retreated, desperate to find a weapon with which to defend himself, yet unwilling to take his eyes off Angelus lest a moment's distraction prove fatal. His heart thundered in his chest as he realized he had no idea what manner of weapon would even work against a vampire. He knew nothing of such beasts of legend.

Thus, it was pure impulse that caused him to seize one of the glowing candles beside the bed and thrust it at Angelus when the demon charged. The flame seared Angelus's chest and he hissed in pain, yet easily swatted away the minor obstacle and gripped William from behind in a deadly embrace.

"What's wrong, lover?" Angelus taunted over William's shoulder, pausing to sweep his tongue over the wound he'd made in the young man's neck. "Do ya not want me any more?"

"Let me go, you fiend!" William shouted, struggling against the vampire's tight hold. "Is this how it ends, then? If you wanted to kill me, why this game? Why not kill me in the alley, and have done with?"

"True, it would have been easier," Angelus agreed, shifting his grip so that he could trap William with one arm. His other arm free, he dropped his hand to fondle his prisoner's groin. To William's utter humiliation, his traitorous flesh grew hard in response to the demon's touch. "But blood tastes best when it's hot and flooded with passion...or fear. I know what yer thinkin'. Ya were hopin' that maybe, just maybe, I felt somethin' fer ya. That despite my nature, I felt love for my unhappy little poet, and I wouldnae be able to kill ya, after all." The vampire's hand tightened painfully over William's erection, causing the young man to cry out. "Naïve, pathetic fool! I'm a demon. My heart's long dead. Ya were never anything but a warm, fresh meal ta me."

As William felt the brush of Angelus's deadly mouth against his neck, a final, desperate jolt of adrenaline surged through him. Miraculously, he broke free, scrambled across the room, grabbed a wooden chair and held it before himself like a shield. Smirking, Angelus sauntered toward him.

"Stay back!" William warned.

"Ya think ya can fight me?" laughed his adversary.

The clarity of his situation descended upon William, leaving him strangely calm. Still wielding the chair, he confessed, "No. I know I can't fight you forever. But I can resist for a while."

Angelus laughed even louder. "Ya didnae want ta resist me before."

Squaring his shoulders, William proudly raised his chin, even though he guessed the gesture would needlessly tempt the demon's hunger. Fixing a resolute gaze on his vampire seducer, he declared, "You made me believe I was worth something. You awakened something in me for the first time: love. Not just carnal love...love for myself. For that, I am in your debt. But it is too high a price to ask me to pay with my life. So, fight you I will, demon. At least I will die the man I became tonight, and not the man I was."

Motionless as a statue, Angelus regarded him in silence. His features melted back into the smooth, handsome planes with which he had first deceived and tempted William.

Softly, almost reverently, Angelus said, "And that is the kind of man I'd want ta have die in my arms."

In the blink of an eye, the chair was torn from William's grip and he found himself on his knees, crushed beneath the imposing form of the demon who was about to steal his life. Humiliated that he'd not even had the chance to struggle, William nonetheless realized that he was well and truly trapped. He no longer trembled and made no effort to break free. Rather, he arched his neck back, exposing the smooth column of flesh.

"Do it!" he commanded.

Cold lips placed a lingering kiss against his skin before fangs sank deep. William stiffened against the pain until, gradually, as his life's blood drained away, he weakened and his limbs grew numb and heavy. His entire body began to tingle the way that a hand or a foot did when it fell asleep. Beneath drooping eyelids, his vision swam and darkened.

Groggily, William felt Angelus release him and shift him in his embrace. Unable to support himself, he rested limply against his killer's chest. Angelus cradled him with surprising gentleness.

"I knew ye'd fight me," the vampire murmured, stroking his fingers through William's hair. "I knew there was passion in ya, just waitin' ta be tapped."

Angelus held William away long enough to slash a razor-sharp fingernail across his pale chest, directly over his unbeating heart. Blood so dark it looked black spilled forth. The vampire brought his lover's mouth over the wound and urged, "Drink, William. Ya found yer own strength tonight. Drink, and grow stronger."

William drank until death claimed him. But soon he would rise again, for his was no ordinary death. For one night, Death had been his lover, and the Death that claimed him had a name:

Angelus.

//Los Angeles, 2034//

It had been the most beautiful night of Spike's entire existence.

And he'd had some sweet ones.

The memory of it never failed to move him. Even now, simply recalling the feel of Angelus cradling his dying body stirred a profound longing up from his very depths. So intense were Spike's emotions that Angel's head snapped up. They stared into each other's eyes.

Spike mustered a quick, lopsided grin, then adopted a thoughtful manner as he approached, head bowed and hands clasped loosely behind his back. Slowly, in rich, velvet tones, he quoted a passage that was as familiar to both of them as their own names.

"...Some lay down and hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest their chins upon their clenched hands, and smil'd..."

Angel's eyes shone warmly and Spike knew he understood the reference. The dark vampire rose to his feet but remained where he was. "And others hurried to and fro, and fed their funeral piles with fuel, and look'd up with mad disquietude on the dull sky, the pall of a past world," Angel answered without hesitation.

After a slight pause, Spike chided sternly, "And some hid below stairs and brooded the entire, bloody night away."

This earned him a sheepish grin.

"So, care to tell me why you're down here bein' a ponce when the fun's all upstairs? Unless..." Spike craned his neck and scanned the chamber in mock confusion. "Haven't got a naked virgin tied up somewhere, have you?"

Angel's eyebrows rose above wide, innocent eyes. He spread his arms in a vast, sweeping gesture. Save for the two vampires, the space was indeed empty. Thrusting his hands in his pockets, the dark vampire murmured, "I was just mapping out a few ideas for dealing with the problem that's arisen with the clans."

Arms folded across his chest, Spike mustered a wry, unimpressed grin. "Nice try. More like you were mopin' 'bout the idea that we might be goin' up against humans."

Angel's shoulders slumped. He said nothing for a few moments, then confessed, "I knew I'd be dusting off old 'skills' in order to manage the clans. I just didn't expect my first cause to use them would be against humans."

"You've used Angelus's repertoire on humans before," Spike pointed out. "These black marketeers strike me as bein' a lot like your lawyer fan club. They're neither hopeless nor helpless."

"I know," Angel agreed, fixing Spike with a penetrating gaze. "That's the problem."

Spike's brow furrowed, but just as a question formed on his lips, he sensed the approach of their other Mate. He and Angel both turned toward the entrance to the council chamber.

"Guys? Everyone's going to start leaving soon. Wanna be good hosts and come mingle some more before they go?" Willow suggested as she ventured into the room. She flashed a soft, mesmerizing smile at Angel and extended her hand in invitation.

"Thanks for not letting me miss the fun -- both of you," Angel replied, stepping forward to grasp Willow's hand. Angel stretched his other hand toward Spike, who joined his two Mates.

"Glad we could tempt you," Spike answered with a conspiratorial leer.

Angel's eyes smoldered in return. He raised Spike's hand to his lips and kissed it.

"Ya always have, William."

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