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Dead Men Walking - 9
Angelus eventually rolled onto his back with a satisfied
grunt. Spike lowered his legs and kept quiet. He cast anxious glances at the
still open door. He did not now want Angel at all. He could not have said whether
he feared Angel seeing what he had done with Angelus or seeing the despair he
knew to be in his eyes.
Angelus swung his legs off the bed, stood up, and renewed his exploration of
the room. He looked in the closet and gave a low, appreciative whistle. He began
pulling out shirts and jeans. 'This is strange cloth, William, but I admire
the colours.' He laid some of the items on the chair, clearly intending to use
them later. He sat back down on the bed and placed his hand idly on Spike's
thigh. 'I am hungry, childe. Bring me something to eat... something small, perhaps.
An urchin would be acceptable, but not one with lice; that is unpleasant.' He
smiled at Spike. 'If you are good...and you have been very, very good tonight...
you may play with it for a while. I should like to watch that.'
Spike's immediate thought was that he'd rather play with his Gameboy but, obviously,
he didn't say this out loud. Angelus saw his face though. 'What is wrong with
ye now? I weary of your womanish ways tonight, William!'
Spike quickly saw the perfect opportunity to escape and started to move away
from Angelus' exploring hand. Angelus seemed to understand his intent and tightened
his grip imperceptibly. 'Summon a minion instead. I have need of you here.'
Spike pursed his lips. He had a feeling this was not going to go down well.
'There are no minions here, sire. Angel doesn't go in for them.'
Surprisingly, Angelus did not seem too perturbed. 'Ah, well, they are troublesome
and a burden. A servant then, fetch a servant; it will do as well.'
'Err... sorry, no servants either.'
'No servants?'
Spike shook his head.
'Come, we will go together. ' Angelus took Spike's hand and dragged him off
the bed. He snatched up the clothes he had selected earlier, and pulled Spike
after him down the stairs. He thrust him towards the office. 'Fetch your britches.
Hurry up.' Still unable to escape, Spike did as he was told, and dressed.
When he emerged from the office, Spike felt a small layer of his sanity peel
away. Angelus stood there in Angel's soft grey pants and loose, silk shirt.
He had put on the skin and thus become Angel. He grabbed Spike by the arm and
dragged him towards the front door.
'Aye, a wee, wriggly infant, Spike... shall we share one together? I'll let
you choose, top or....'
His words were cut off when he hit the barrier. 'What is this? May I not leave
this place? William, this is your home... invite me to leave!'
Spike backed nervously away. 'I don't live here, sire. I have my own place now...
so I can't.'
Angelus seemed to forget the barrier and turned to Spike. 'You do not live with
me... with the other one? And why might that be, might I enquire?'
'Oh, I have minions of me own and... oh, servants... yeah, and urchins twice
a day... it's great. It's just a bleedin' peachy life.'
Spike suddenly had a brainwave. 'Hey...I've got some blood-of-urchin here, mate.
Err... sorry... sire.' He backed slowly towards the kitchen.
"Where the fuck are you, Angel?" Spike's desperate thought produced no useful
response.
When they reached the kitchen, Angelus leant against the table and watched,
bemused, as Spike took a pint of his medicinal blood from the fridge. He came
over and studied the microwave as it heated the food. He took the offered mug
with a confused expression. 'They serve blood on tap in this place, like ale?'
Spike couldn't help a smile at his expression. 'Not exactly... try it though.'
Angelus took a sip. Spike groaned as if in pain. It was Angel's expression of
wonder and pleasure looking back at him.
'This is rare, childe, and strong. I have not tasted its like before.' He laid
a hand on Spike's cheek. 'You have done well, William. I am pleased with thee.'
The thumb started to rub along Spike's cheekbone, and he leant into the caress.
Unbidden and unwanted, tears sprung to his eyes, and he tried desperately to
blink them away.
'What is this? Will, why crying?'
Spike shook his head, unable to explain. Angelus slipped his hand behind Spike's
head and eased him closer. He pulled Spike toward his mouth, and Spike thought
he was going to kiss him, but at the last minute, Angelus turned his head and
took a large mouthful of the blood. Only then did he turn and pulling Spike
once more, placed their lips together.
Spike opened his mouth, and the potent blood flowed between them. Angelus' tongue
slid in with the hot delight. It licked the blood over the walls of Spike's
mouth and pushed the fluid down his throat. When he felt Spike swallow, Angelus
did it again. Mouthful by erotic mouthful, Angelus fed his childe.
When the mug was empty, he pulled away and grinned down at Spike. 'I see ye
have recovered nicely.' Angelus slid his hand once again inside Spike's jeans,
cupping his erection in his large hand.
Blood ran down Spike's chin and dripped onto his shirt. Angelus slipped a second
hand in and leant back, groaning.
Spike looked up at Angelus' ecstatic face and saw Angel standing in the doorway.
Spike had not known his brain could work so fast. He actually heard all his
thoughts as one intense blast in his head: shock at Angel's bloodied, broken
hands; anger at his absence; pain at his presence; dismay at his expression,
and worst of all - worse than all this - realisation that what he wanted most
in the world, what he had missed and longed for for over one hundred years was
right there, standing in that doorway, bloodied, tear-streaked and... leaving.
Angel stared at the bloodied vampires, looked at Angelus' hands buried deep
inside Spike's pants, saw the blood that he had bought for Spike being shared
between them... and spun on his heel and left.
He heard a cry 'Angel!' but, in his despair, mistook anguish for a taunt. He
returned to his training room and flung himself at the wall. He pummelled it
and kicked it, until an icy calm descended over him, and he sank to the floor,
replaying the scene in his mind. As he pictured Spike's face and Angelus' eager
hands, Spike's voice rang, tormenting him, "Angel, watch me... Angel, watch
me... watch me... watch me."
The blood revived Angelus' appetite for his childe. He pushed Spike against
the counter and ground his erection into Spike's. Spike was almost ashamed of
his reaction, feeling in a strange way that his cock betrayed him. Angelus fumbled
with the zip, worked it out, and freed Spike. He stood back a little, admiring
the glistening shaft. 'Hold yourself, William.'
Spike shook his head. 'Angelus, I can't do this....'
Angelus didn't raise his voice. He even smiled. He looked directly at Spike
and almost whispered just the one word. 'Now.'
Spike hesitated, and it was the last thing he remembered doing before he woke
up on Angel's bed with blood sticking him to the sheet. Angelus punched him
unconscious. Trapped against the counter with nowhere to turn from the blows,
Angelus used Spike as he would a punching bag nearly two hundred years in his
future and just one hour earlier. Spike's knees crumpled. He hit the floor hard
and did not feel Angelus' strong arms picking him up, or Angelus carrying him
carefully up the stairs - nor the first of the many buggerings he was still
to receive that night.
Spike came to slowly; he couldn't see any point hurrying it at all.
'William!' The cheerful voice greeted him from the bathroom. Angelus appeared,
rubbing his wet hair with a towel. 'I like this new world, William. I'm thinking
I may stay here. I have discovered water that runs hot from fountains inside...
is it not a wonder?'
He knelt on the bed and pushed Spike's cheeks apart roughly.
'Do you see how you upset me, my love? I do not like to be like this with you
all the time... will you no learn?' Insincerity was obvious in the gleeful way
he spoke. 'Now, look how you are torn, little one. Let me clean you.' He pressed
the wet towel to Spike's bleeding, leaking entrance and held it there for a
moment. Spike buried his face in his arms and felt cuts and swellings pressed
painfully. It didn't take long for Angelus to replace the towel with his tongue.
He kept Spike's cheeks forced wide, licking and probing the damaged flesh. Inevitably,
Spike felt something harder being pressed against him. He let a tiny groan of
dismay escape and instantly regretted it when Angelus stilled against him.
'Turn over.'
Spike did as he was bid and lay on his back, utterly defeated.
Angelus tipped his head on one side. 'You do not want me? Truly, you do not
want me... this has not been a game, has it?'
Spike shook his head, fearful to speak and precipitate another beating.
Angelus shook his head, too. 'I am confused, William.'
Spike risked a hesitant reply. 'I've changed, Angelus... I don't want this kind
of....'
Angelus looked up with a small glint in his eyes and said casually, 'Oh... it
is not that I am confused about.'
Spike stopped and said puzzled, 'Err... what...?'
Angelus grinned and laughed in glee. 'I'm just puzzled how you can still be
so stupid' and he thrust once again into Spike, forcing his erect penis into
him with one hand and holding his wrists tightly in the other. 'Not want me...'
he punctuated each word with a painful thrust then stilled and forced Spike
to look at him.
'Not want me! How dare you admit you do not want me? You are nothing more than
a hole I made for my convenience, William. You exist through me. You exist to
obey me. Do you understand me?'
He slammed in at this final demand, and Spike nodded through his pain and humiliation.
'Look at me, William. I want to see your face as I take you. That's right, my
love, try to smile for me. It is a rare honour to have your sire's attentions
so, is it not?'
Spike nodded again.
Angelus did not last long this time, and there was very little ejaculation.
He jerked against Spike's raised thighs then sighed and pulled out. 'I feel
relaxed now childe and weary... it has been a wonder of a night. Come close,
and let me hold you, for the nights are as dark here as they ever were. This
is a grim house, William, and I do not like to think of you living here.'
Angelus wrapped his arms tightly around Spike and began to nibble his ear in
a playful way. Spike stared stonily ahead into the deepening gloom.
This was it. This was what it meant. Soulless. This demon was like ice on a
pond... it appeared solid - it might even hold you up and feel solid - but,
ultimately, it was just a clever veneer. It could crack open, and all the depth
of water below that it could have stolen for its icy possession was quite lost
to it. It was just ice... cold, thin, and yet... oh... so seductive.
Eventually, Spike looked down at the bare arms enfolding him. In his mind, it
didn't take much to add a soul and, for a little while, Spike could pretend
he was held by Angel's strong arms. The self-deception lasted only until the
next time Angelus' hand crept down to open him up again.
It was a long night, and when Spike smelt the coming dawn, he realised, with
a profound sense of sadness, that he flew no more. There was no light. The moth
had dipped too low, too close to the flame, and he admitted for the first time
that he was truly dead. What Buffy had been unable to do with her fists and
her words, Angelus had done with silence. He had taken Spike repeatedly throughout
the night in total silence, withholding even that veneer of his humanity. Spike
had been fucked by a dead thing all night and had been extinguished himself
in the process.
Angelus and Spike came down stairs together after lunch the following day. Angel
had passed the morning training, working himself into an exhausted, sweating
frenzy. He leant against the reception counter still wearing his old sweat pants,
trying once more to reach Wesley, or one of the others on the telephone. He
turned to watch the descending vampires, sure in his own mind what they had
been enjoying all night and most of the day. Angelus gave Angel a casual, careless
glance of recognition and nodded at Spike. 'Ye can have him now. He is a sad
disappointment to me this morning, and I am sick of his presence. He cries like
a woman and wearies me. You may have him for now… but I shall require him tonight
to share my rest.'
Angelus wandered over to the kitchen, but didn't go in. He leant nonchalantly
in the doorway, watching Angel. Spike stood in the lobby, seeming unable to
decide where to go or what to do. He saw Angel, but did not acknowledge his
presence. Angel came slowly towards him. He stood close with his back to the
prurient gaze of his other self. He laid a hand on Spike's arm and gave it a
tiny shake.
'Hey?'
Spike looked at him but didn't respond. Angel thought
this not surprising, given he seemed quite… gone. He heard the word "soulless"
cross his mind but dismissed it quickly. It was not something he wanted to think
about. He shook Spike's arm again then moved his hand to Spike's face and turned
it gently side-to-side, noting the bruises and the one or two obvious bite marks.
Angel jerked his head back a little, fury raging in his body.
'Now, it is all made clear to me.' Angelus' voice drifted over to them from
his position in the door. 'You are the one responsible for this sad state of
affairs with my childe. You baby him and make him weak.'
Angel turned slowly and looked at him. Angelus twitched his eyebrow up in a
mocking salute, but then grunted in pain, as Angel slammed him back into the
wall with all his weight and power. He punched Angelus in the stomach, and the
soulless demon doubled up in pain. Angel hit him again, and he reeled back into
the kitchen, trapped. Angelus expected Angel to follow up on this surprise attack,
but he turned instead to Spike and pulled him over by his arm to look at Angelus.
'Why didn't you defend yourself Spike? Look at him… he's nothing.'
Spike shook his head and tried to turn away. He was dead… how could he answer?
Angel was not easily put off, though. He stood behind Spike and spoke urgently
in his ear. 'You are better than him, Spike. You can take him. You just have
to have confidence… believe in me and in yourself, Spike. Please, Spike!' He
wrapped his arms around him and continued in a low urgent voice. 'I was him,
remember? I know him… and I know you, and I'm telling you, you can take him.'
Angelus climbed slowly to his feet, grinning at them evilly.
'You incite William to attack me? Are you stupid as well as weak? I will kill
him. I would have killed him many months ago had it not been for that enticing
body. Hey, William? You excite me, do you not? Better than any woman, but just
as easy.'
Spike could actually feel anger radiating from Angel, but maybe it just felt
so to him, given he was so profoundly dead.
Angel nuzzled into Spike's neck in desperation. 'Spike, come on… wake up...
come back to me….'
Angelus did not miss Angel's intimate touch, and a cold, devious look flickered
across his face. He pulled out a chair and sat down with an air of something
entirely in control of the situation. 'I do not know why you attempt to win
him over in that manner. William does not like your attentions. Do you William?
He was quite vocal and interesting about your unpleasant and unwelcome advances
on him. He does not like you. Aye William, you despise….'
'No.' The word was spoken so quietly that even Angel, who still had his arms
wrapped tightly around Spike and his chin resting on his shoulder, only just
heard it. Angelus cocked his head to one side.
'Do you speak?'
Spike cleared his throat, tried to find some voice from deep within his dead
body, and repeated, 'No.'
Angelus stood up and folded his arms in a challenging manner. 'No what?'
'No… you will not speak of Angel. You won't speak of Angel and me. You don't
know anything about us, and you are lying. I.…' Angel could not believe it,
but Spike put his arms back, and embraced him as well.
Angelus took a step towards them. Angel saw his opportunity. 'Spike, stand up
for yourself. Trust me!'
He felt Spike tense, sensed his fear and confusion, but slowly stepped back
leaving him standing on his own. Angelus grinned in triumph and came right up
to Spike, almost standing on his boots, intimidating him with his huge presence.
'Go upstairs now, William… I feel in need of ye again, and I think you need…
oof.' For something that didn't breathe, Angelus gave a fair impression of a
gasp of pain. Spike's fist had thumped into Angelus' belly with all the pent
up rage and self-loathing of his miserable night. Angelus doubled over, and
Spike brought his knee up into his face. Angelus was not down for long. He charged
Spike and propelled him out into the lobby, and they crashed to the floor in
a tangle of flying limbs and punches. Angel stood in agony, watching. He could
not bear to see Spike hurt, but knew he needed this fight to find his way home.
He gritted his teeth, determined not to help.
Angelus was strong. He was William's elder and better, but he was not Spike's.
Spike had been fighting and surviving and mastering his life for a very long
time, and it did not take long for him to realise that this feared, respected
demon was not as invulnerable as he had believed.
When he hit Angelus, Angelus stayed down for a surprisingly long time. When
he spun and caught him in a flying scissor kick, Angelus sprawled on the floor
with a deep grunt.
Spike threw a quick look at Angel and felt something in his dead heart stir
once more. Angel was grinning at him with a look of intense pride. Spike gave
a small grin, too, and went back into the attack. Rather than allow Spike another
punch, Angelus feinted to the left and, when Spike lost his balance slightly,
propelled him with irresistible force towards the wall. Spike did resist, and
they ended up crashing down the stairs into Angel's training room. Spike renewed
his attack with a ferocity borne of pure hatred. He punched, kicked, and bit.
He ignored all his own pain and put to one side the breaking and the bleeding
and the fear. With every punch, he felt a spark flare within him. With every
kick, he felt a small part of himself come back to life, and he did not question
the exact nature of this living. It was hot; it was vital, and it made his blood
surge in his body. It was good enough. Angelus began to tire of the beating.
He cast a glance at Angel who was sitting on the stack of training mats, to
see if he would intervene. Angel only raised an eyebrow at him and smirked.
Angelus' slight distraction at this aggravating look was his downfall. He slipped
on the slick, sweaty, bloodied floor, and Spike was on him, punching him until
Angelus' face resembled his own. Only when Angelus lay still, did Spike stop.
He sank his forehead for a brief moment onto Angelus' then stood up shakily.
He looked down at the prone figure then limped slowly over to Angel and flung
himself down, exhausted.
Angelus did not stay unconscious for long. In a little while, he sat up, cursing.
He cast an evil look towards the others, but did not appear to want to risk
another confrontation. He slunk away up the stairs, cursing them in broken Gaelic.
'You did it.' Angel's voice was full of pride and not a little wonder. He had
urged Spike to this, but had not really been convinced of his superiority. Spike
nodded. He eased his shirt off his shoulder inspecting one particularly nasty
bite.
'Here, let me.' Angel slid over the mat until they were sitting side-by-side.
He ran his fingers over Spike's wound then bit deeply into his own wrist. When
the blood came, he dribbled it over the bite, trying to ignore Spike's look
of wonder. Angel's bare chest rubbed against Spike's arm. He could feel the
heat from Spike's body, stirred by the fighting. He could smell the intense
smell of fresh, musky sweat. He could also smell the unmistakable aroma of his
own spent cum. Angelus' cum… his… not his. Anger welled in him once more. He
pulled away slightly and hung his head. 'Do you still want him?'
He heard a hiss of anger, and Spike pulled away. 'What the fuck do you think,
Angel? What the bleeding fuck do you think? Look at me….' He caught Angel's
face in an irresistible grip. 'Look at me!'
Spike's head bowed for a moment under Angel's intense scrutiny, but then he
raised his face, and his look was one of pure agony. 'Where were you Angel?
Why didn't you come for me?'
Angel tried to speak but could not find the words he wanted. He put his hands
over Spike's and tired to press them into his face. 'I saw you with him… he
was so perfect… so pure. I'm so… I… in the shower. You hate me… You've always
loved him.…'
Spike only closed his eyes in pain, 'Where were you…?'
Angel's quiet words slipped into the gap between them. 'I'm here now.'
Spike opened his eyes. He hesitated. Angel hesitated. They both moved forward
at the same time, and their lips met in a chaste, light kiss. Angel pulled away
and looked at Spike in surprise. He put a finger to his lips, feeling where
Spike's had just been. Spike watched the hand for a moment, but then reached
up and removed it. He replaced it with his lips once more, but this time they
were open and eager. Angel responded. He pushed Spike onto his back, and sweat
slid between their bare chests. Angel opened his mouth to Spike's kiss, and
urgent tongues told of passion and need. Angel put his hands under Spike's head
and lifted him up; Spike wrapped his tightly around Angel, and they were lost.
The intensity of the kiss overwhelmed them both. Not sex, not the stabbing need
that had driven them both for hundreds of years, but the need to feel and taste
and touch and be human for a while. Neither of them had ever kissed like this
before. They were not distracted by the solid erections pressing between them.
Neither wanted anything more than this intimate sharing.
Spike explored Angel's mouth as if he were exploring his own identity - as if
in that sweet warmth he could rationalise what he was. Angel's tongue sought
an end to loneliness. They pulled apart, stunned at the intensity they could
feel in each other, but came crashing back into the kiss again. They paused
to regain some element of self-control, nuzzling into sweaty, enticing necks,
but lost it swiftly when their lips met once more. Angel reared up more on Spike
to try and climb deeper into his mouth. Spike pushed him off, and they rolled
over, mouths still locked together. Spike now on top, they had to explore each
other's mouths again to seek the subtle differences of position. Their tongues
found new delight… their lips swelling to the need again.
They could not have said who started the low moaning first. Like a soft, erotic
purr, they felt their bodies singing to each other. The moans only sent them
into a new frenzy. The kiss was not enough - one bit slightly, the other responded,
and their mouths were filled with blood. The blood mixed in their mouths, washing
over their tongues.
At last, Angel heard a sound he had despaired of ever hearing. A whispered,
'Angel, Angel, Angel,' slipped unconsciously from Spike's lips. Entirely lost
in the kissing, biting, sucking, and swallowing, Spike's heart had reacted of
its own accord. Angel pushed Spike slightly away and regarded him in wonder.
Stilled, they both realised they were panting. Angel stopped, but then with
a slight laugh, started again. He smiled at Spike. 'I like the sound; think
I'll pant more often.'
It was exactly the right thing to say for once. Spike heard the implicit offer
of friendship and the promise of more, should he accept it. He smiled, too,
and put his head down onto Angel's broad, smooth chest.
'I'm sorry, Angel… I should have thought. I should have… I… he is not. You are
not… bugger it! This is so confusing.'
'I know. You think you're confused. Try being me, Spike!'
'Yeah, I guess. You weren't the one being fucked over by him all night, though,
were you?'
They both looked at each other and burst into laughter. Angel gave mock nod
of wise consideration. 'Now that would be an interesting thing to behold.'
'Don't you dare.'
Angel folded his arms under his head and regarded Spike carefully. Caught out,
Spike looked shyly down and started playing absently with one of Angel's nipples.
Angel hissed quietly at the erotic sensation.
'Why do you say that, Spike?'
'Well… bizarro Angel… weird even for us.'
'That's not what you meant, though, is it Spike?'
'Dunno what you mean.'
'Err… Spike.…'
'Spike looked up from the soft, brown areola he had been stroking, with a questioning
look.
Angel stated the obvious. 'I've just kissed you.'
Spike's swollen lips twitched in their own affirmation of this. 'Yeah, I kinda
noticed, luv.'
'So, you can rest assured that I do want to be friends now.'
Spike laughed at the reminder of his earlier objective. 'I guess.'
'So, can't you trust me enough to let me in? Let go a little, Spike. You won't
be hurt here.'
Spike looked intently at him. 'Easy for you to say, Angel.'
Angel gave a slight sigh. 'It's not, Spike; it's not easy at all. I've been...
All right, I'll go first, shall I: in this mutual 'I'm scared to say what I
feel' session?'
Spike smiled openly now. 'Yeah, you go first; then I can deny everything and
leave you looking like a pillock.'
That earned Spike another long, passionate kiss. Angel crushed him down to his
lips, moaning. He lifted his legs and wrapped them tightly around Spike's back.
Their kisses, this time, were less exploratory and far more knowledgeable: both
tongues finding exactly where they wanted to be and what they wanted to taste.
Eventually, Angel rolled them once more, so he was on top and broke away to
look at Spike.
'I want to say this, Spike. I want to tell you how I feel so there are no misunderstandings
between us, but I'm not sure I'm going to be able to last….' He cast an anxious
look down at his tenting sweat pants.
'Well, fucking just say it then, Angel, cus I've been waiting a hundred and
thirty years to hear it.'
'You don't know what I'm going to….'
'Angel…!' but they were both laughing now.
'Okay, okay. Spike, listen. When you came here I was….' His words were cut off
when they both heard a scream of high-pitched human terror.
'Wesley!'
Angel leapt up and only half heard Spike's anguished rejoinder, 'Giles!'
They flew together up the stairs and into the lobby. Giles lay on the floor
near the front door, bleeding from a deep wound in his neck, but they could
both hear his heartbeat. Angelus was pressing Wesley into the wall, his mouth
intimately wrapped around the soft, human throat.
With a roar of distress, Angel launched himself on Angelus. Weakened from his
earlier fight, Angelus did not risk Angel's wrath and ran, laughing, up the
stairs to the upper floors of the hotel. Spike fell to his knees alongside Giles.
He cradled his head carefully in his lap and turned anguished eyes to Angel.
'Wesley?'
Angel was helping Wesley to the couch and only nodded grimly at Spike. He did
not hear Spike's low angry words to the unconscious Giles, 'You're too early…
too early, you fools.'
Wesley seemed dazed. He looked vacant and did not respond to Angel's nervous,
anxious touch.
Spike kept glancing between Angel and Giles. He rubbed Giles' cheek lightly,
trying to bring him around. 'Come on, watcher, it was only a little bite.' Eventually
Giles began to stir, but his gaze was as unfocused as Wesley's. The vampires
looked at each other, united at last by care for these human friends.
'We've got to keep them safe, Spike!'
'Yeah, I know, pet….' Spike suddenly looked to the open door. 'Hey!' He pulled
Giles up by his arms and flung him at the opening. Giles bounced back. Spike
set his face, refusing to believe what he had just seen and pushed him again.
'Spike! Stop it! You'll hurt him!'
Spike gave him a withering look. 'Angel… outside! The barrier… Angelus won't
be able to.…'
Angel caught on and nodded, impressed with his childe and berating himself for
not thinking of it. He picked Wesley up and tried to place him outside. The
barrier held.
'What the fucking hell have you two done, you fuckwits?' Spike shouted at both
watchers furiously. 'It's all going bleedin' wrong. Two days… you said two days
and now this! Bloody hell.'
Suddenly, he stopped and turned slowly. Angel was looking at him with an expression
of complete disgust. 'It was you. I was… he was… Angelus was right… you've caused
this?'
Spike set his face to the inevitable onslaught, but he had no need, for they
both heard a sing-song voice eerily echoing around the empty hotel.
'Fee fie foe fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman.'
Angel looked up, confusion clear on his face. He knew the labyrinthine nature
of his hotel and wasn't sure now where the sound came from. He ignored the brewing
argument, the recriminations, and the blame, realising the desperate situation
they were in.
'We have to hide them, Spike.'
'Angel… it's Angelus! He'll smell them… you know he will.'
'Secure them, then. Somewhere we can protect them.'
'The office… one door and good line of sight. It's the perfect defensive position.'
Angel looked at Spike, pleased… remembered he was probably the cause of it all
and frowned. 'Help me.'
Together they herded the almost insensible humans into the office. Spike was
worried about Giles. Placed carefully on the couch, he seemed almost catatonic.
Spike feared Angelus had drained him fatally. He propped him up with some cushions
and started to leave, until Angel's sharp voice stopped him. 'Hey! Where are
you going?'
'Tea, pet. Giles needs tea now if ever he did!'
Angel smiled despite the gravity of the situation and held his hand out to Spike.
Spike came towards him gratefully and allowed himself to be imprisoned in a
hard, possessive embrace. 'Later, Spike, we can argue later, hey? I will know
what all this is about… but later.'
Spike cast an anxious glance to see how Giles was taking his defection to these
stronger, colder arms, but Giles only started vacantly into space, his glasses
askew, and his jaw slack. Spike frowned and turned Angel's head to see. 'He's
not good, luv. He needs help.'
'I know, Spike, I know. So does Wes.' Spike saw that Angel had not understood
his meaning.
'We can't hole up with them here, Angel. We can't wait another three… I mean,
they need help now. We have to go find him!'
'No!' Angel pulled away from the embrace, but still kept hold of Spike's hand.
'Yes!'
'I'm not leaving them.'
'So… what? We just wait here while they die of blood loss? Angel, Giles isn't
young; his heart's probably a bit dicky.'
Spike cast Giles another anxious look. 'Why don't you bleedin' speak?'
Angel let Spike's hand drop and went to the door, looking thoughtfully up to
the top floors. 'We know he's upstairs, at least. If he were down here we'd
both sense him, right?'
Spike nodded with a determined look. 'Fucking right I would… he's my sire, remember?'
'Err… he actually is me, Spike!'
'Oh. Yeah. So… we go?'
'I go.'
'No! No, no, no, no, and nothing you can say or do will make me stay. I'm not
leaving you again, Angel, not now.'
The unspoken "not now I have you at last" was heard by both of them.
'We can lock the office door and leave 'em safe. He won't get in.'
Angel grabbed Spike by the shoulders and shook him slightly. 'Spike, I haven't
told you how I feel yet. I'm not going to let you off that excruciatingly embarrassing
scene so easily, and we are going to have that talk about meddling with unseen
forces, and… there's one more thing, now what was it?' Angel smiled and pulled
Spike into an intensely emotional kiss that left them both highly charged and
unsatisfied. 'So, I will come back, Spike.'
Spike pursed his lips in defeat and nodded. He stationed himself in the open
office doorway. Nothing would get past him. Angel ran up the stairs and disappeared
into the gloom of the upper floors.
Spike stared resolutely ahead of him, on guard. There was no way Angelus was
getting past him to the humans. This was true, in a way… for Angelus had no
need to get past him. He was already in the office, sitting contentedly behind
the desk, waiting his opportunity to have some fun. Spike didn't even have time
to wonder why he had not sensed his presence, for he was knocked instantly unconscious
by Angelus' first blow with a heavy metal drawer.
*********************
Angel roamed the upper floors for over an hour before he admitted in disgust
that he could not sense Angelus at all. The hotel was a maze of passageways
and stairs; Angelus could be anywhere. He stopped and lowered his head, thinking
deeply. What would he have done when he was Angelus? He thought hard.
Suddenly, his head jerked back in shock and fear. He tore back through the hotel,
flung himself down the stairs and saw, at the same time, his weapon cabinet
broken open and Spike lying on one of the couches. He flung himself to Spike's
side, and realised, with a relief so profound it threatened to unhinge him,
that Spike was only unconscious and starting to come around even now. He helped
him to sit up. Spike put a hand to his head. 'He was already ….'
'I know, Spike… it's what I'd have done, somehow. He must have doubled back...
but why didn't we sense...?' Suddenly, they both looked at each other. Spike
stood up on wobbly legs.
'No.' His voice was so quiet, it gave truth to all their fears.
They walked together towards the office.
Wesley was still on the couch. So, it was a little unfortunate that his head
was on the desk.
Giles was still in one piece, only that piece stretched from one side of the
room to the other. He had peeled as easily as Spike once joked that he would.
Spike didn't find it so funny this time.
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