A Past Not Forgotten

Author: angelspike69 & anamcara420

Parts: 11 - 20

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~Part: 11~

They giggled as they walked on the thick carpet of the hallway. William’s hands roamed over her breasts hungrily. Pressed tightly against her, he brushed aside her dark hair and kissed her pale neck. Drusilla stopped at a room and William shoved the huge double-doors open hurriedly. He pushed Drusilla through as he closed the doors behind them. He had his arms wrapped around her tiny waist from behind, then turned her so that she could face him. He pushed her up against the wall and nibbled on her neck.

“Oh. Such a hungry little kitty,” Drusilla cooed as she gently pushed William back. “Meow. You've been a starved one, haven't you, my sweet Willy?”

William leaned into her again, nipping the column of her long, graceful neck. “I've got you to feast on now, pet.” Giggling like a little girl, Drusilla playfully pushed him way.

“Is this your home?” William asked as he glanced around. The empty room was dim, heavy curtains blocked out most of the sunlight, but a few stray shafts slipped through hovering together to highlight a small portion of the room. William shivered expectantly.

“Their home,” she responded as she looked at a pair middle-aged bodies slumped on the sofa, posed as if they were sitting. “Ambassador to...something and his plump, lovely wife. Till their spirits flew away on fairy wings.” She leaned closer to her new companion, whispering, “Psst. When Angelus took them for dinner.”

William gawked at the corpses on the sofa. “Angelus? Who the bloody hell's Angelus?" He felt another presence and turned. The vague shape of a tall man lurked in the dimness of a doorway across the room.

Looking over at the man, Drusilla, smiled proudly. “Look what I made. It's called Willy.”

“William.” He said, correcting her as he tried to get a better look at the shadowy figure.

“Where's Darla? I want Darla to see William.” She said smiling.

Angelus, imposing even though slightly disheveled, left the shadows and walked closer to his childe and the slim male standing next to her. “Darla and I had a little spat. Her precious master sent for her. You know Darla. Master's pet.”

Drusilla looked sadly at Angelus. “Oh. Poor Angelus.”

The man walked closer. “Ah, don't fret, Dru. We'll make up. Always do.” Angelus hissed as he touched his bruised cheek and continued, “Mmm. Ow. After a little tit for tat. Shouldn't let that spoil our fun here.” He looked at William with interest, checking him out. “So, instead of just feeding off of this…William…you went and turned him into one of us. Another rooster in the hen house.”

Looking at her sire worriedly, “You're not cross with me, are you?”

“Cross?” Angelus grabbed William’s arm and held it out into one of the rays of sunlight that had evaded the heavy velvet drapes. “Do you have any idea what it's like having nothing but women as travel companions, night in and night out?”

The smaller vampire angrily yanked his sizzling hand away from Angelus. “Touch me again…”

The larger vampire continued to speak softly, apparently unconcerned by William’s anger. “Don't mistake me. I do love the ladies. It's just lately…I've been wondering…” He held his own fist in the beam of sunlight. “What it'd be like…” He watched his hand sear and sizzle. “To share the slaughter of innocents…with another man.” He turned his hand over so that his palm was now in the dangerous light. He watched admiringly as it smoked. “Don't…don't think that makes me some kind of a deviant, hmm?” He pulled his hand back close to his face. “Do you?”

William stared at Angelus, and somehow understanding that this was some sort of test, he stuck his own hand into the light – voluntarily this time. He gritted his teeth at the horrific pain, determined to prove himself to the other man.

Angelus laughed and slapped William on the shoulder affectionately. “Au ah! I like this one! You and me…we're gonna be the best of friends.” Angelus and William laughed together.

Will tossed and turned in his bed, as images he had no conscious recollection of hammered his sleep. He whimpered as he drew the covers tighter around him, grabbing hold of his pillow and gripping it fiercely as if he was hoping it would anchor him. The dreams continued to batter him; images tumbling through his mind.

A murky mist clouded his senses. His brain was mired in a morass of confusing thoughts. When the haze dissipated, he saw a dark-haired girl pacing in front of him. “Oh, God. Can't feel…mmy…What did you do you?” Spike questioned softly as he drifted out of a somnolent fog into consciousness. He gazed confusedly at his hands…they weren’t there! He closed his eyes again trying to understand.

“No!” The dark-haired slayer stomped over to Spike who was bound to a column with chains. She punched him hard in the face. “No!” Her tiny fist had power as she hit him again. “No more daddy…no more mommy…no more hands.” Tearfully she punched him once more. “Can't touch me ever again.”

Helpless, his brain muddled, he looked up at the deranged slayer. He could feel the skin on his face split as she continued his punishment for something he knew he didn’t do. “I never touched you.”

Spike’s head slammed back against the column as she brutally battered him again. “Shh!” She told him; her insanity evident to him despite his haze of drugs and pain.

“Stop. Stop. You’ve got it wrong. Your brain's all jumbled. I never hurt you. It wasn't me. I've done my share of bad, but you're not one of 'em. It's someone else. You've got me confused with another man.”

She screamed, “Let me go! Let me go! Uhh!”

“Visions...are mixing...with your real memories. All right? Got 'em stuffed in your head. Other slayers, other places. New York…China…”

The deranged young girl suddenly began to speak in Chinese.

“Yeah. That's what you're remembering – other slayers.”

“You killed her.”

Sadly he answers. “Yes. But…”

“You killed them both.”

“That and worse. But I was never here.” He answered with a whisper.

She continued to punch him repeatedly in the face. “Doesn't matter! Head and heart. Keep cutting till you see dust.”

Spike cowered as she wielded her bone saw and knelt over him. He closed his eyes, unwilling to watch what torture she would inflict on him. A scream gurgled deep inside of him, when abruptly the hovering weight of the slayer was gone. Tentatively he opened his eyes and saw her thrown across the room. Angel. His brain dulled with drugs and pain, he watched as she got to her feet. She stared maniacally at Angel as he tried to reason with her.

Suddenly Dana charged Angel, kicking him in the chest. They fought fight in hand-to-hand combat, until Dana managed to kick Angel again, sending him flying across the room. The larger vampire fought back and they continued to trade punches and kicks, knocking over the little furniture that remained in the room. Finally, Angel grabbed her around the neck from behind and turned her to face the door.

“Now!” He yelled and three tranquilizer darts thudded into the crazed slayer’s chest. The powerful drug worked immediately; Dana passed out and collapsed to the ground. Wesley joined Angel and they stood over Dana.

Refusing to succumb to the remnants of the drugs, Spike watched as Dana was carried out of the basement. He blinked helplessly at Angel when the older vampire turned to look at him. Pained brown eyes met dull blue ones as Angel stared intently at Spike. He shuddered visibly as he took in the chains imprisoning the younger vampire and the devastation to his hands. Distressed, he hurriedly scanned the room and located Spike’s arms on the nearby workbench.

“Get the med team down here. NOW!” He yelled as he strode over and knelt next to Spike. Certain that he was now safe, Spike sighed in relief as he passed out.

When Spike finally awoke, his arms were reattached beneath heavy bandages. He was sitting in a hospital bed, floating steadily toward consciousness when he heard footsteps. He glanced up and Angel walked into view.

Forcing his eyes to focus, Spike saw the larger vampire skulking in the doorway. “Come to tap dance on the patient, have we, doc? I'd give you the finger, but apparently I won't have the motor skills till the drugs wear off.”

Angel hesitantly walked into the room. “A lot of pain?”

“More than I’d like. But not as much as you would. Just what I deserve.

Angel released a heavy sigh. “I didn’t say that.”

“No. I did. The lass thought I killed her family. And I'm supposed to what, complain 'cause hers wasn't one of the hundreds of families I did kill? I'm not sayin' you're right…'cause, uh…I'm physically incapable of saying that. But, uh…for a demon…I never did think that much about the nature of evil. No. Just threw myself in. Thought it was a party. I liked the rush. I liked the crunch. Never did look back at the victims.

With heavy regret, Angel responded. “I couldn't take my eyes off them. I was only in it for the evil. It was everything to me. It was art. The destruction of a human being. I would've considered Dana a masterpiece.”

“What happens to her?” Spike asked.

“I don't know. Um, Andrew and the slayers took her. Didn't trust us to help her.”

“Andrew double-crossed us? That's a good move.” Spike chuckled. “Hope for the little ponce yet. Though the tingling in my forearms tells me she's too far gone to help. She's…one of us now. She's a monster.”

“She's an innocent victim.” Angel added.

“So were we…once upon a time.”

“Once upon a time.” Angel agreed.

Will’s mind refused to give him a break. It flit incessantly from one memory to another, back and forth in time. He tried to wake up, but he couldn’t. Helpless, at the mercy of his mind’s madness, he couldn’t stop the puzzling, distressing thoughts that assaulted his mind. He cried out in his sleep calling for Angel to help him; help him stop the on rush of images. The bed coverings were twisted around his body. He felt trapped. He kicked out and thrashed his arms as he tried desperately to free his body. Suddenly his mind was at peace; the images fled. He began to return to consciousness, but he couldn’t fully awaken. The drugs he took when he came home wouldn’t let him, but at least for now he had a bit of a reprieve. His body relaxed its tension and his mind allowed him to fall into a deep sleep. As he started to dream again, it was like he was a third party watching the events unfold before him.

He’s back in London. He walked into the hotel and saw Angelus humping a woman dressed in white on the bed.

“Well... looks like you haven't had your fill of her after all.”

Angelus leaned back, revealing that the woman he’d been plundering was Drusilla. The beautiful vampire rolled her head over and looked at William. “The little children didn't come out to play." She sat up, leaning closer to Angelus' chest. “Did you miss me, pretty William?”

“I'm sure he did, Dru. After all…you are his destiny.”

“Oh. That's so sweet.”

Angelus laughed at William and Drusilla joined in the laughter. Enraged, William glared at Angelus as he charged the bed.

Just as he drew close, Angelus turned and grabbed him, throwing him against the wall. Fastening his trousers, he stalked toward the younger man and placed his long fingers around William’s neck and squeezed.

“Don't touch her!” William spat out at the older vampire.

“Little late for that, Willy. And I really don't like it when you raise your voice to me.”

“William, don't play such a sad tune.” Drusilla said quietly as she reclined seductively on the bed. “Give us a kiss, then.”

He looked from Drusilla lounging on the bed to the powerful vampire who held him against the wall. “Why did you...? You knew. You knew she was mine.”

“Did I?”

“You knew bloody well!” He wrenched himself free of Angelus' grasp and punched him. He charged Angelus again, but the larger vampire deflected William easily and pushed him to the floor.

“Just don't get it now, do you?” He asked harshly as he picked William up by the lapels and threw him onto the couch. He shoved the corpses off and took a seat next to William. “Well, you're new…and a little dim. So let me explain to you how things are now. There's no belonging or deserving anymore. You can take what you want, have what you want…but nothing is yours.” He paused and looked over at Drusilla. “Not even her.”

“You're wrong. We're forever, Drusilla and me.”

“Ah, still the poet now, aren't we, Willy?” Angelus responded sarcastically.

“William.”

“Right. William. You know, you really should find a new name for yourself. It just doesn't strike the right note of terror.” He patted William on the knees, stood, and went to stand behind Drusilla. “Tell you what…William. If you want her…” Angelus slipped his hands around Drusilla's body, below the waist. “Come and take her.”

Drusilla held her hands out, beckoning William. William charged Angelus angrily.

Just as William reached the pair standing in the doorway, Angelus flung Drusilla aside. She cried out as she hit the wall and sunk to the floor. William changed direction, and hurried quickly to Drusilla. Bending down, he took her in his arms and brushed the tears from her lovely face.

“Daddy, that wasn’t very nice.” She looked at Angelus with a smile.

“William, move away now!”

William stared at Angelus as he stood and helped Drusilla to her feet. Thrusting his chin out defiantly, he answered the older vampire. “No. You aren’t going to hurt her. She’s mine!”

“What did I just get done telling you boy?”

“No!” was the only answer he received.

Drusilla!” He growled. “Leave us be. Seems like William here needs to be taught a lesson. It appears that I’ve been lax in my duties as head of this household.”

“But Daddy, can’t I watch?” She clapped her hands together excitedly.

“Drusilla…leave…NOW!”

She turned and offered her new companion a smile. “Don’t worry William…Daddy won’t hurt you much.” She scampered out of the room as Angelus approached William.

William backed away from the large vampire as he strode closer until he could go no farther. He felt the wall behind him. Angelus grabbed William’s arm forcefully, dragged him across the room, and threw him onto the bed. William tried to roll over to the other side, but before he could, Angelus grabbed him again, pulled him over and straddled him. William bucked up, trying to dislodge Angelus, but he was no match for the much bigger vampire. He raised his hands to hit him, but Angelus clasped both of his wrists and pinned them over his head against the pillows. He leaned down and stared into William’s worried eyes.

“I see I should have taken you in hand sooner William. If anyone belongs to anyone here…it’s you who belongs to me!”

“I don’t belong to you. You’re not my sire. Drusilla is.”

“Tsk…tsk…you’ve got it all wrong my boy. Drusilla is my childe, thus making you mine as well. She may have given you new life, but it’s me who will train you…it’s me you answer to. And it’s about time you learned that.”

Angelus leaned down over the prone William, grasping both wrists into one large hand. With his other hand now free, he reached for Williams shirt and ripped it open revealing smooth white skin over sleek muscle. William shrieked as he felt the fabric ripping.

“What are you doing?”

“What I should have done sooner.” He gazed lustily down at the pale skin exposed to him. He ran the cool fingers of his free hand down the center of William’s chest, stopping when he reached the top of William’s pants. As he opened the trousers, he leaned down and nipped at William’s ear with human teeth. William struggled against him, desperately trying to free himself. Angelus bit down hard on the tender flesh of William’s ear, breaking the skin.

“Ow! Stop that!”

“No.” Angelus responded matter-of-factly as he continued to undo William’s trousers. “I’m going to prove to you once and for all who belongs to whom, and you have absolutely no say in the matter.”

Angelus reached over and grasped the ends of silk scarves that were tied to each post of the bed. The vampire smiled evilly and wrapped them around William’s wrists, binding him securely to the bed so that he had both hands free to proceed with the fledgling’s first lesson.

William struggled against the silk ties fruitlessly. “Let me go Angelus. You can’t do this to me!”

“I can and I will, William.”

He moved his body down the younger vampire’s bound body until he was straddling him at his knees. He reached and finished undoing his pants, yanking them down past his hips. He kept yanking them down until they were free of his body. He did the same with his under clothes. He stared at the restrained pale body lying beneath him shivering with fear and anger.

“Seems you’ve been hiding from me William.” He leered at the trembling vampire as he removed his shirt. Getting up on his knees, Angelus undid his own pants. As he pulled them down, his erect cock sprang free and he laughed at the look of sheer terror on William’s face. He quickly removed his trousers and undergarments so that he was kneeling naked in front of William, who couldn’t stop himself from staring at the enormous erection in front of him.

“Oh come now, William…” Angelus purred as he ran his hand slowly up William’s violently twitching leg until he reached the juncture between William’s thigh and his trembling alabaster torso. It wasn’t much, but there was a slight hardening of William’s cock and Angelus smirked.

“Don’t touch me…you can’t touch me like that. It’s not right…not proper.”

“Well, little Willy here seems to be telling me a different story here.” He wrapped his hand around the burgeoning hard on and stroked it slowly.

William closed his eyes tightly.

“Open your eyes William.” When he refused, Angelus slapped him hard with his other hand. They popped open. “Now keep them open.” William did, but he turned his head away. Angelus grasped William’s chin and forcefully brought his head around so that he was looking directly at him. “Keep it there William and keep your eyes open. Do you understand?”

When he didn’t get an answer, he slapped William again. “Do you understand me William”?

“Yes.” William answered fearfully.

“Good.” Angelus continued to stroke William. He raised his head and smiled when William jerked, fearing another slap. He reached instead for one pale, pink nub on William’s chest. He squeezed it hard and grinned when William let out a yelp.

He released William’s now rigid cock and crawled up his shuddering body. He sat on William’s chest, his own cock huge and hard. As Angelus stroked himself, William eyed it warily, glancing up at Angelus.

“Now what I want you to do William, is to open your mouth wide. No biting now.” Angelus growled when he saw William close his mouth tightly. This time when he hit William, it wasn’t with an open hand, but with a closed fist. William’s head whipped to the side at the impact. When he still refused, he punched him in the face again.

“Open William!” Raising his fist again, he paused and brought it back down when William did as he asked although his blue eyes were wide with fear.

He moved up closer to William’s waiting mouth and slowly pushed his cock in. “Now close your mouth around me. Mmmm…that’s it. Mind the teeth. A little is okay.” When William did as he asked, he started moving, thrusting in and out of the moist cavern. He watched himself fuck William’s mouth as tears slid out of the corners of young vampire’s eyes, but William did as he asked, and kept them open. Angelus fucked William’s mouth slowly, moaning as he could feel the tip reach the back of William’s throat. William gagged and Angelus glared down at him. William looked up at him helplessly. It made Angelus even harder and he increased his rhythm.

“God, you were made for this William.” He continued to move in and out of William’s mouth. He reached behind him, expecting to find a limp cock, but was pleasantly surprised to find out it was still hard. “Looks like William likes it a little rough after all. Not as much of a straight-laced Victorian that I took you for, boy.” Angelus made a few more thrusts before he pulled out of William’s mouth.

He got up off of William. “Sit up.” When William struggled to do as he asked, Angelus impatiently turned him over. His arms crossed over each other, but Angelus wasn’t going to untie him. He brought the trembling vampire to his knees.

“What…what are you doing?”

“Oh, I think you know what I’m doing William.” Angelus got behind William and placed his hands on William’s ass.

“No. Please…Don’t…” William whimpered. “I beg of you…”

The only answer William got to his pleas was a hard slap. Angelus’ large hand left a bright red handprint on one pale cheek.

“You don’t tell me no, William. You can beg all you’d like, but soon I’ll have you begging for me to fuck you senseless on a regular basis.” He slapped him again on his already sore ass, much harder. “I do as I please, and at the moment, this pleases me very much.”

He pried William’s cheeks apart, and with no warning, pushed one long finger through the ring of muscles. William yelled at the intrusion and Angelus groaned as the muscles clamped tightly around his finger. “You can yell and scream all you want William. There’s no one here to help you. Not even your precious Drusilla.”

He removed his finger and reached for the lamp oil on the table next to the bed. Coating his cock, he parted William’s cheeks again, and forced himself in with one hard thrust. William screamed.

“Ahhh…” Angelus moaned at he slid into the clenching hole. He could feel it tearing as he started moving, pulling back until his cock was almost out, then pushing back in with one thrust until he was fully seated within William once again. He’d waited a moment before he started moving again. “So tight my virginal William.” He pushed in and out, picking up his rhythm until the only sounds in the room were him groaning at the pleasure of being inside the younger vampire’s incredibly tight channel, William’s moans of pain, and the slapping of skin against skin. He fucked William furiously, not caring about the pain he was inflicting on the fledging vampire. William’s cries of pain only increased his enjoyment.

Suddenly, Angelus pulled out of William and flipped him none too gently onto his back. Quickly, he brought William’s legs up and placed them around his waist, and he plunged back into the virginal passage that was providing such pleasure. He reached between their bodies and grabbed William’s cock again. He ran his finger across the slit, smiling at the feel of the pre-cum leaking out of the tip. He slid his hand up and down the hard shaft as he continued to fuck William. William’s groans of pain changed to panted moans of pleasure and Angelus smiled.

He kept tugging on William’s cock. “There now boy…you like that didn’t you? We’re going to have some fun together my boy for many years to come.”

The body beneath him was trembling as Angelus continued to move within him. William let out a shout and Angelus grinned as William came into his hand. As he felt William’s ass clamp around his cock, Angelus pumped a few more times, lowered his head, and bit viciously into William’s neck, drawing on his blood as he released himself deep inside the young vampire. He continued to move within William as he drank his blood, but more slowly now. He retracted his fangs, and licked the puncture wounds until they closed. He pulled his now soft cock out of William and turned onto his back. He looked over at the other vampire.

“There now, William. That wasn’t so bad now was it?”

Will woke with a start, trembling at the disturbing dream. Such violence! He felt half ashamed, half titillated. His heated body tingled as if he’d been shocked with an electrical current. He threw the bedding off his sweat-slick body and looked down in horror at the erection that swayed between his legs. He was alarmed and disgusted. How could he be aroused by something so violent?

What kind of a man was he that he’d get turned on like that? Furious with himself, revolted by his reaction, and anxiously confused, he bounded from the bed and practically ran to the bathroom. He bent over and emptied his stomach into the toilet. With a shaking hand, he flushed it. Wiping his mouth, he reached over into the shower, and turned the water on. With trembling legs, he climbed into the tub and closed the glass door. He leaned in, and let the hot water pour over his body as he reached out a hand to the wall in front of him to steady himself. The images of the last dream overwhelmed his brain. He dropped his head in shame as the water cascaded over him. He was still hard, and painfully so. Totally disgusted with his body’s betrayal, he reached down with his other hand, and took his cock into his grip. As tears mixed with the water running down his face, he brought himself off with a cry. He stood under the scalding shower, hoping that it would cleanse him. He stayed under the spray until he was forced out when the water turned icy cold. He was clean but not cleansed.

Stepping out, he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. He wiped his hand across the mirror to clear it of the fog and stared at himself. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot. He looked like hell. He scrubbed his hand across his eyes, hoping to dislodge the images of Angelus fucking him that refused to leave his thoughts. He heard the echo of his screams; screams of pain turning into cries of pleasure. He was raped! He was violated! He felt intense pain that evolved into exquisite pleasure and that was…sick! He shuddered. Forcing himself to focus on the present, he brushed his teeth and got dressed. Grabbing his keys and coat, he ran out of the apartment and his building into to cold.

~Part: 12~

Breathing heavily after running out of his apartment and the building, Will stopped for a moment on the front steps to catch his breath. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew he couldn’t stay in his apartment. He had to get out…had to forget. He looked across the street at Angel’s building, wondering what the vampire was up to. Does he remember last night? Does he remember that I helped him home? Do I dare go over there? Demand the answers. Tell him who I am? Shaking his head as if trying to release the troubling questions rattling around wildly, he hurried down the steps and turned right, walking down the sidewalk away from Angel and hopefully away from his disturbing thoughts. He just needed some peace…some respite from the images and the memories. He’d explore the city hoping to block everything but the sights and sounds of one of the most exciting cities in the world.

However, deep in thought and having no luck with blocking the terrifying scenes that kaleidoscoped through his mind, he walked briskly, ignoring the magnificent buildings thrusting themselves heavenward, not knowing or caring where he was going. Occasionally he’d mumble an “excuse me” when he’d bump into someone, but mostly he ignored his surroundings. He shuddered repeatedly and clenched his fists in anger as he tried to wrap his mind around the fact that for all intents and purposes, Angelus had raped him all those years ago. Actually, the sexual assault didn’t revolt him so much because Angelus was a soulless demon. It was his thrilling sensual enjoyment that appalled him; it was the fact that the dreamed memories turned him on that disgusted him. What kind of a person did that make me? Did that make him some kind of deviant? Will started. It was an odd phrase for him. He felt that he had heard it somewhere before, but where? He shook his head unable to remember.

Every time the image flashed into his thoughts his dick stiffened! He jammed his hands in his coat pockets and lurched onward desperately trying to control the disconcerting pictures that were invading not only his memories but also his conscious mind. As if mocking his attempt at control, misty images from the past careened into focus. Angelus, Darla, Drusilla, and Spike…him…creating mayhem and committing murder in faraway places. Traveling to Sunnydale to find a cure for Dru; a cure that would drain the life from Angel. A blast of fiery agony that brought him to Los Angeles. To say it was just a jumbled mess was a serious understatement.

Maybe Giles was right, and this was a foolhardy task he had taken on. He’d been having these memories since he was a child, but since he came to New York and made contact with Angel they were coming more frequently and in more detail. Should have listened to Giles. Maybe I should just forget about this and go home…back to London. Try to live my life as a normal human should do. But he knew he couldn’t. He knew he had to stay and get answers; answers that he’d been seeking for so long. Somewhere deep within himself, he knew he wasn’t the type to turn tail and run when things got difficult or scary or even uncomfortable. He didn’t know where that feeling came from. He had sought answers in the watcher’s journals and questioned Giles and his parents, but until he decided to come to New York, he had not been so single-minded; so obsessed. From what he'd learned, nothing could deter Spike from what he wanted. Maybe there really was a piece of the vampire buried deep inside him, and he wasn’t sure if that didn’t scare him more than any answer he might get from Angel.

Will stopped and stared around. He was quite a ways from his apartment. He looked at his watch and saw that he’s been walking for about two hours. He was cold and hungry. He crossed the street when he saw a coffee shop. He went inside and came back out with a large cup of coffee and a bagel. He crossed the street again and found a bench in a small park. He thanked God that because of the cold, it was deserted; not even the vagrants braved the weather. He just needed a quiet place to gather his thoughts and decide what he should do now.

He was having some success in relaxing, enjoying his coffee when he was hit with another memory. His body jerked and he dropped the bagel, sloshing some hot coffee onto his hand.

It was pouring down rain in the middle of the night somewhere in the city…in New York! Two people were fighting on the paved walkway in a park. It was a pretty rough fight. Spike, punked out with safety pins on his clothing, fought an African-American woman in a long black leather duster. Unexpectedly, she sent him tumbling.

Exhilarated, he stood, “Well, all right. Got the moves, don't you? I'm gonna ride you hard before I put you away, luv.”

“You sure about that? You actually look a little wet and limp to me. And I ain't your 'luv'."

She kicked Spike and they began their battle ballet again. The vampire overpowered the slayer, pushing her to the ground and straddling her, bashing her repeatedly in the face. She grabbed Spike's arm and kicked him off of her. She punched Spike, but this time, he grabbed her arm and twisted it around so that he could almost bite her neck.

Suddenly, a trash can fell over. Startled, Spike, turned to see what happened. The slayer seized the moment, and head-butted Spike, freeing herself from his grip. She then elbowed him, punched him, and knocked him down. He kept his eyes on her and jumped up quickly. He saw she had a stake in her hands and he prepared himself for the attack. Her rain drenched face was fierce and she threw it surely at his heart. He deftly caught it between his palms only inches in front of his chest.

He grinned, “I spent a long time trying to track you down. Don't want the dance to end so soon, do you, Nikki? The music's just starting, isn't it?” He tossed the stake back toward her, and it landed on the pavement. Spike started to walk away, but then swung around on a lamp post, staring at her. “By the way...love the coat.” He added as he jumped down from the stone wall and disappeared.

Will shook his head as the memory faded. He stood and glanced around as he rubbed his slightly burned hand. I have to stop these images. I’ll wind up in some loony bin. As he bent to pick up the bagel, a taxi pulled up to the curb in front of him and disgorged its passengers. Will hurriedly tossed the remains of his ill-fated breakfast into a trash can, hurried toward it and jumped inside.

The driver turned to look at him expectantly and Will realized he hadn’t thought of a destination. “Um…um…the museum.” He stammered.

The cabbie looked at him incredulously. “We got a lotta museums. Which one?”

Embarrassed, Will thought quickly. “Ah…the Metropolitan…that’s it. The Met.”

The cabbie shook his head, flicked the metal flag on the mileage box and filtered the car into the traffic.

Will clasped the car door and watched in amazement as the driver expertly maneuvered through the mass of honking vehicles, which all seemed determined to cram themselves into the mere inches between each other. Finally, the cab screeched to a halt at a curb. Will paid the man and stepped out in front of the massive structure of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. He paid his fee, got his map, and began his journey, hoping that the beauty of the art and the serenity of the museum would soothe his troubled mind.

A faint image of Angelus sketching flickered into his thoughts but he forced it away and began to explore the museum with no definite destination. He wandered through the galleries of Egyptian, Greek and Roman art, happy that the wonder of the ancient artifacts overwhelmed any other thoughts. When his stomach began to grumble, he realized that he hadn’t eaten all day. He searched his map and headed for the Petrie Court Café. He ordered a cup of tea and a ham and cheese Panini, although he finished only half. After lunch he rode the elevator and without paying attention to his direction, got off, determined to forget everything as he continued to bask in the magnificence of the masterpieces. He entered a room and turned to look at the first painting. His heart stopped as he gazed at the dimly lit scene. A vague shape of a woman stood at the opening of a stone fence that surrounded a manor house. Leafless trees pierced the dreary winter sky as the moon struggled to shine its light through the heavy cloud cover. He knew this! How did he know this! Will glanced at the printed card next to the picture – The Figure at the Gate by Atkinson Grimshaw, 1881. Oh God! Grimshaw. As if pulled by unseen hands, Will stepped to the next painting, a gray moonlit sky reflected in murky water as a woman peered over the stone wall lit by streetlamps blurred by the fog. He read the card – Reflections on the Thames, 1880. Images from his past began their painful dance in his mind once again. He turned away from the paintings and walked by rote to a bench and sat down. His blue eyes had a mind of their own and gazed around the gallery. They were all by Grimshaw…John. The blood red, opaque tint of The Haunted House; the dusky grey gloom and stark outlines of ships in Nightfall down the Thames; the bleak, stormy, cloud-filled sky above the raging ocean that tossed a burning fishing boat onto the shale…In Peril!

Will closed his eyes and remembered. London…a party…Angelus introduced him to a man, an artist, John Atkinson Grimshaw. Thin face. Deep dark eyes. Quiet voice. Angelus drew the man aside, away from everyone. Spike followed and listened in awe as the artist and his sire talked about art. Spike could tell the man was touched by Angelus’ praise and interest. Angelus stiffened suddenly, angered at the interruption of a woman, the hostess, who drew the artist away. Later, Angelus sought the woman, charmed her into joining him on the terrace, and drained her. He demanded that Spike drag her body into the bushes while he returned to the party to thank the host and bid the artist goodnight.

The next evening Spike dared to interrupt Angelus while he was sketching to ask him about the artist. The older vampire was not angered and began to talk to him about art and Grimshaw in particular. “He paints a world of reflections and shadows, pale moonlight filtering through clouds, barely touching the earth, the last rays of the evening sun swallowed by the darkness. He paints the world that we see…the darkened, concealed world of vampires.”

Spike was shocked into silence. Angelus was seldom so articulate, so patient with his answers. One evening shortly after, Angelus received a message and left the house. He stayed away several days much to Darla’s fury. When he returned, Darla took him into her room. Spike heard the vicious cracks of her whip and her angry screams. He did not hear Angelus’ voice. As soon as evening fell, the evil bitch took Drusilla to visit the Master. Angelus had still not appeared. Spike dared to knock on the bedroom door. “Angelus…Sire…” When the older vampire didn’t answer, Spike turned the knob and entered the room. In the shadows, he saw the coverlet covering a mound and walked toward the bed, calling the vampire’s name. “Angelus?”

“I’m here, boy. I’m here.” Angelus whispered.

Spike hurriedly lit the candle on the dresser by the door. He could see Angelus’ long hair splayed messily on the pillow. The older vampire was lying face down. Spike walked around the bed and held the candle closer. Despite a day of healing, Angelus’ face was still mottled with bruises. Spike dared to lift the cover and gasped. The larger vampire was sprawled naked on his stomach. His back was marred with deep wounds still oozing blood. Spike placed the candle on the bedside table and ran from the room. He raced outside and quickly found a young woman who had stayed out too late and was hurrying home. He grabbed her, dragged her into an alley and slammed her into the wall, knocking her unconscious. He carried her back to their house and up to the bedroom. He placed her gently on the bed next to Angelus.

“Drink, Sire.”

Angelus opened his eyes and stared at Spike, startled. He groaned as he drew his damaged body close to the young woman’s. He gave Spike a nod of gratitude and began to drink. Spike sat in a chair and watched. When Angelus was sated, Spike lifted the body from the bed and carried it downstairs for the minions to dispose of. He returned to the bedroom where Angelus had fallen asleep and sat beside the bed, watching the wounds slowly close as the blood healed the vampire.

Will drew himself from his memories. Even though they were of Spike and Angelus, these were not terrifying…they were…tender, which oddly unsettled him more. He stood abruptly and strolled around the gallery, determined to see every painting in the retrospective of the Victorian painters. No other images pierced his thoughts and he left the museum. He glanced up, remembering that the Met was adjacent to Central Park. He crossed the street and slowly walked a little ways on the pathway, trying to fill his mind with the beauty of nature, despite the barren branches and bitter cold, but peace eluded him. After a while, he left the park and walked until increasingly heavy snowflakes forced him to enter the subway.

Will hurried down the steps and jumped aboard a car just as the doors began to close. As he glanced around he saw only one other person; a young African American woman who wore a black leather coat. As the train lurched out of the station, images of another encounter crashed into his mind. Spike was in the punk version he had seen earlier. White hair gelled into stiff peaks, he was dressed in faded jeans and shirtless; his bare chest partially covered by a black vest pierced haphazardly with safety pins. But this time he was battling the young black woman in a fast moving subway train. They traded vicious punches and the woman matched the vampire blow for blow. Spike broke off a metal pole and twirled it through his fingers like a baton. He smacked the slayer with the pole but she caught it and slammed it back into his face. Spike fell to the floor and the young woman knelt above him, bashing his face repeatedly. Suddenly the lights went out. When they came back on, Spike was on top of her, his hands clasped tightly around her throat. He grasped her head between his hands and twisted violently. Her neck broken, the slayer died!

Will closed his eyes and trembled at the horror of the scene. When another image flashed fiercely into his mind, he gasped out loud. Spike took her coat! She was wearing a black leather duster and the vampire took it. That’s where he got the coat he always wore. His trademark. The coat that Angel kept and held so reverently was like the duster Spike stole from the slayer after he murdered her!

Will looked down at himself, his stomach roiling in disgust. He wore a black leather duster! He had found it when he was eighteen. Something had intrigued him about the coat when he saw it in a shop window and he bought it, much to his mother’s dismay. Tears sprung to his eyes and his heart beat loudly in his chest. He was Spike! He was a murderous vampire!

He jumped up when the train stopped and ran out of the door and up into the cold, snowy street. He looked around and realized he was just a few blocks from his apartment. Dark had fallen and the wind had picked up, swirling the flakes into his face, chilling him. He hurried along, wanting to run but unwilling to draw too much attention. He saw Washington Square Park through the snow and increased his pace, his fury blazing with every step.

As he entered the shadowy park, he checked his pockets. He began to carry a stake when he was a teenager after he started to read the watcher’s journals. The habit stuck. He kept both hands in his pockets as he peered into the night darkened park, but one fist clasped a hidden wooden stake tightly. He didn’t walk far before a figure sprang from behind a tree. It was young vampire, looking barely out of his teens, but with the smirking bravado of the ancient creature it was. Without comment, it flung itself at Will, its cold hands reaching immediately for his throat. Will stood there, eerily calm, as the vampire’s hands tightened. He didn’t attempt to fight him…he had no fight left. An image of another time suddenly flashed into his mind. A young man sat on a bale of hay in an alley. He was crying pitifully. A stunning young woman, pale and dark-haired approached him. He thought her a pickpocket at first, but she was not. He stood and walked slowly toward her as she sauntered sensually closer. Drusilla! The dark beauty that often haunted his dreams. She reached for the collar of his shirt. “I see what you want. Something glowing and glistening. Something…effulgent.” William was stunned…finally someone who really understood him. “Effulgent.” He repeated. “Do you want it?” She asked. William quickly decided that he had never wanted anything more. “Oh, yes!” A sudden rush of daring filled him and he reached out with a trembling hand and touched her chest. “God, yes.”

William watched intently as Drusilla glanced down for a moment. When she looked up, her face had changed. Ridges replaced the flawless skin of her forehead and fangs descended from her luscious mouth. William just stared transfixed…more confused than afraid. She pressed her body wantonly to his and pulled back his shirt collar. She leaned closer and buried and her fangs into his neck. His cries of pain quickly turned into moans of pleasure as Drusilla ended his human existence.

Will’s mind tumbled out of its reverie when he felt the sharp tips of the vampire’s fangs at his neck, in the same spot where Drusilla took William many years ago. Amazed at his self-control, Will brought his stake-filled hand out of his coat pocket and thrust the end into the vampire’s chest. His voice quivered a bit but he spoke with determination. “Not again…I’m not a stupid sod…I’m good. I’m not evil…”

A look of horror replaced the predatory smirk and the vampire disappeared into a cloud of dust and snowflakes. Will stood still, unmoving as he stared at the dusted flakes. “I’m William Tate, not Spike. I’m not a murderous, blood-sucking vampire.” He rasped harshly through gritted teeth to the pile of ash at his feet.

He dropped the stake and calmly removed his leather duster, allowing it to fall onto the snow covered path. He turned and walked out of the park, arms wrapped around his body as he tried to keep warm in the bitter cold of the night. His irrational tranquility dissipated and he began to tremble violently as he walked, his eyes alert for any movement. No other beast or human approached him and he arrived unmolested at his apartment building. Shivering with cold and other emotions he could not name, he strode through the doors into the safety of his building.

~Part: 13~

Angel sat for a long while after Dominic left. He was relieved that he wasn’t crazy; that it was Spike’s scent emanating from Will. He didn’t know why he was surprised; the scent of a being never changed whether human, demon or animal. He was glad that Spike had been rewarded. Twice he had willingly given his life to save the world. His childe was truly a hero. He recalled the angel’s words. Words that, although he knew he wasn’t worthy, still broke his heart. “You will not receive humanity, but William will bring you peace.” Angel knew that he did not deserve humanity, but Will deserved more than being with him. Although he doubted it, he thought perhaps Will could bring him peace, but what could he give to the human young man? He could give him the answers he sought; the truth about the brutality and cruelty would send him away. That was better. I’ll tell him every horror of Angelus. He won’t want to be anywhere near me.

He paused for a moment. That wasn’t necessarily true. Cordelia, Doyle, Wesley, Gunn, Fred and Lorne knew what he had been and they were his friends. I’ll make it worse. I’ll describe every vicious, merciless, sadistic act that Angelus…that I ever perpetrated.

Angel stood and left the bar. He walked slowly, burdened by his thoughts and what he knew he would lose. He and Spike had gotten closer that last year. It began when the crazed slayer tortured him and cut off his hands and it developed slowly. Late night talks…mostly Spike chattering, of course. Reminiscences about the good times. Spike wouldn’t allow him to bring up any of their more barbarous escapades. When Fred died they clung to each other, not physically, but somehow together. Spike agreed that they had to make the decision not to save Fred. He closed his eyes and remembered the scene after they had mutilated and killed the guards in the fog enshrouded forest. They followed Drogyn inside the Deeper Well and he told them of the horrific consequences of saving Fred. “If we bring the sarcophagus back to the well, it will draw Illyria out of your friend...and into every single person between here and there. It will become the mystical equivalent of airborne. It will claw into every soul in its path to keep from being trapped. Entire cities – tens maybe hundreds of thousands will die in agony if you save her.”

“No.” Angel replied, horrified.

“That's madness.” Spike added.

Drogyn looked at the two vampires. “This is a place of madness. I'll prepare the spell. Your choice.” He left the two vampires to make their decision as they stood together on the walkway above the hole in the earth that had become a tomb for thousands of ancient demons imprisoned in their coffins.

There was silence, and then Angel turned around and looked toward Spike. “To hell with the world.”

Angel closed his eyes briefly and saw Fred’s kind face smiling at him. He opened his eyes and strode angrily to the end of the wooden bridge to tell Drogyn that he would take the spell. He would save his friend. He stopped suddenly. He couldn’t allow thousands of innocent people to suffer and die. It was his job to protect them. He grimaced. He was the champion.

Champion, my ass. I allowed Fred to die. I couldn’t prevent Doyle from jumping onto that light and dying. I couldn’t keep my son or Cordelia safe. I sent Wesley to his death and brought Gunn, Spike and Illyria to that alley knowing that there was no chance of survival. He laughed mirthlessly. No chance of survival for anyone who dared to get close to me. But I survived. I brought everyone death. I deserved to die. They didn’t.

Blinking back his tears of recrimination, Angel trudged on through the increasingly heavy snowflakes. He smiled slightly as he remembered the plane ride home. Spike tried desperately to get drunk but couldn’t because he only had the tiny bottles of liquor that the plane carried. He heard Spike’s kind words in his head.

“Thousands would have died if we'd saved her.” Spike said softly.

“Yeah.”

“She wouldn't have wanted that.”

“Yeah. I tried calling Wes. There was no answer.” Angel responded, knowing what that meant, but afraid to say it out loud.

“I guess she's gone then.” Spike replied, his voice a sad whisper.

Yes, she was gone. Sweet, smart, brave Fred was gone. "Handsome man – saved me from the monsters." But he couldn’t save her this time. Her body hollowed out; her soul burned to ashes so that the ancient god, Illyria, could return. And even Illyria was gone; dead in the alley where he wanted to make a stand against the Senior Partners. It was always what he wanted and others had to pay the price. ”You’re brooding, ponce.” Angel started. He heard Spike’s voice in his head. The younger vampire would never suffer his broodfests for very long and he went to great lengths to torment him out of his black moods. Angel smiled sadly as he saw Spike’s smirk in his mind. He shuddered and tried to shake himself out of his maudlin musings. He looked up and saw that he was near The Three Lives Bookstore. The proprietor had left a phone message a day or so before, to tell him that he had gotten some books in that he might want to look at.

Angel opened the door to the tiny shop and walked inside. Mr. Warrington was not behind the counter. He’d learned that the evening hours were often manned by NYU students, a few he recognized from his classes.

He smiled at the young woman. “Mr. Warrington left a message that he had found some books for me. My name is Liam Mc…”

The girl interrupted, smiling. “I know who you are professor. I took your Art History class my freshman year. Let me get your package.” She knelt down to search beneath the counter. Within minutes she stood up holding a bulky, brown wrapped package. “The note says you are to take them home and look them over. If they are what you want, you can pay for them later.”

Angel smiled and took the package.

“Art books, huh?” She asked smiling.

“Um, yes. Mr. Warrington was kind enough to search for them for me.” Angel answered.

“Oh yeah. He does that a lot. We’re always getting packages of books from around the world. Well, goodnight professor.”

Angel nodded and left the store. He had asked the man to search for two books on Victorian painting. Ironically, although he had collected many books on specific artists and various periods in art, he had none that dealt solely with the nineteenth century. He had met several artists who working during the period, including Whistler and Grimshaw. He suddenly recalled his first meeting with John Atkinson Grimshaw, a self-taught artist from Leeds. Angelus…he… had seen and liked the painter’s somber, slightly moonlit, often dark and dismal scenes. Even Whistler, that pompous ass, thought Grimshaw’s nocturnally themed paintings worthy of his notice and praise. When Angelus learned the artist would be at a party in London one evening, he made sure to attend. Spike had gone with him since the women were out of town. The vampire introduced himself to the man and spent a little time talking with him; telling him how much he enjoyed the dusky shadows of his landscapes and seascapes. Unfortunately, the hostess interrupted them and drew the artist away. She paid dearly for her intrusion later. Angelus…he had killed her.

As he walked toward his apartment, he saw Will coming up the stairs from the subway tunnel. The young man didn’t see him and Angel followed him discreetly. He almost called out to him when he saw him enter the park, but he didn’t want Will to know that he was following him. Will seemed distracted and he walked slowly despite the frigid weather and the falling snow.

Angel worried and kept as close as he dared. It was never a good idea to tempt the demons that frequented the wooded area and nighttime was their playtime. The vampire slipped unnoticed into the shadows along the path. He could see Will walking, paying no attention to his surroundings; although Angel’s keen eyesight saw his hand clutch something in his pocket. The vampire smiled approvingly. The young man had a sense of self-preservation. Angelus had trained Spike to seem nonchalant to disarm any prospective kill.

Angel stopped his musings when he heard rustling and watched as a vampire jumped from behind a tree. The young demon impetuously flung itself at Will, encircling his pale throat with its vice-like grip. Will simply stood there. Just as Angel began to move, he heard Will’s tremulous voice. “Not again…I’m not a stupid sod…I’m good. I’m not evil…” and the vampire disappeared into a cloud of dust.

Angel watched as Will dropped the stake, removed his leather coat and dropped it onto the snowy path. The vampire was startled. What would make Will take off his coat? Suddenly Angel found a memory as he followed the shivering young man out of the park. Will came up from the subway tunnel. Long ago Spike had killed a slayer on a New York subway train and stole her leather duster that he wore and treasured for years. The boy must have remembered…Spike’s memories are haunting Will. Angel felt his heart hurt for the young man’s painful thoughts and he kept him in sight as he surreptitiously followed him home.

Angel kept himself far enough behind Will so he wouldn’t think he was being followed as the streets were deserted because of the snow and the freezing temperatures, but he stayed close enough to keep him in sight. As he followed the young man, he wondered where he was going, and was soon brought up short when he realized that Will had stopped. Angel looked around at the familiar neighborhood. Why did Will stop here? At my building? He watched as Will looked up. Angel followed his gaze, and realized that Will was looking up at the darkened windows of his loft.

Will moved again, turning in the opposite direction, and went into the newer building across the street. Angel was confused. He crossed the street and walked carefully to the front steps of the building. He didn’t want to risk that Will would see him. He stood to the side and peered into the door and saw that it was another apartment building. In the lobby there was a high desk for a concierge, although it was empty. Further down, Will stood at the bank of elevators. Angel stepped out of sight quickly, turned and went back down the steps to the sidewalk. He looked up…waiting. Although many apartments had their lights on, he just had a feeling about the location of Will’s. He was soon rewarded when he saw the windows light up on the top floor. He looked toward his own apartment. Will lived directly across the street. A coincidence? Don’t think so. Nothing about this is a coincidence.

He looked up at the window again; wanting to make sure Will was okay. He couldn’t go into the building and knock on his door. How would he explain that? He saw a drain pipe running up the building about three feet from the edge of the wall. He walked toward it and then glanced in all directions. Seeing no one, he grabbed hold of the cold metal and pulled to make sure it was secure. Then hand over hand, he silently climbed the pipe until he reached the balcony of Will’s apartment. Almost at the top, he heard a noise. He paused and then risked a quick look around the edge of the building. He saw that Will had opened the sliding doors to the balcony and he stood wrapped in a heavy blanket looking out into the snowy sky. Angel saw him backlit by a halo of light from his apartment and he marveled at the young man’s pale, fragile beauty that was so much like William’s before he adopted the brash persona of Spike. As soon as the young man went back inside, the vampire continued his stealthy climb. When he reached his destination, he quietly hopped over the metal railing that encased the balcony. He paused and slipped into a crouch, staring at the glass doors, waiting and listening to make sure he hadn’t been heard. He straightened up, and that’s when he noticed the telescope. He dared a glance through the glass doors, but he could not see Will. He turned his attention back to the telescope. Walking quietly, he moved closer and peered through the lens and realized that it was pointed directly at his loft. So Will has been spying on me. But why?

He turned back around and walked soundlessly to the doors and observed Will through the filmy drapes. He was pacing back and forth in his living room, obviously agitated. Angel looked around and saw that the apartment was quite big. He wondered how the young man, an unemployed student could afford it. He saw the computer with a stack of what looked like old books next to it. The cracked leather books looked familiar, but he couldn’t place where he’d seen them. He returned his attention to the young man, who was still pacing nervously. Will stopped suddenly and then strode into the kitchen to grab a beer out of the fridge. He twisted the top off and tossed it onto the counter.

He was startled when he heard a phone ring. Patting his coat pocket, he realized that it wasn’t his. He saw Will pull a cell phone out of the pocket of his jeans. That’s when he noticed that the patio door was still open a bit. He must not have closed it all the way. He knew he shouldn’t, but he listened to the conversation anyway.

“Hello.” Will answered the phone. “Hi, Giles. I’m fine.”

Giles? Rupert Giles?

“Sorry I haven’t called lately. Been busy with moving in and school.”

Angel frowned in confusion, wondering at Will’s connection to Giles.

“Yeah…I’ve seen him. No I haven’t had a chance to really talk to him yet. What am I supposed to do? ‘Hi Angel…I’m Will Tate…used to be Spike in another life…’ yeah, I see that going over really well.”

So he knows…he really knows. Angel was more puzzled than ever now.

“I know you weren’t keen on the idea of me coming, Giles. But I had to. I thought you understood that. I need some answers that you can’t or won’t give me. No, I’m not coming home. Have you heard from my parents? You didn’t tell them, did you? Good. I don’t want them to know. No lectures, Giles. I already know where you stand. You’ve told me often enough. I have to do this! Look Giles, we’re never going to agree, so let’s save ourselves a lot of fighting and just not talk about it…okay? Look, it’s late and I’m tired. I’ll call you in a few days…I promise. Bye.” Will clicked his phone off, and tossed it on the table. He ran his fingers through his hair as he sighed.

Parents? Spike…Will has parents? He knows Giles? What do his parents do? How are they connected to Giles? Watchers? He continued to peer through the glass doors from the balcony until Will walked into the other room, out of his sight. Waiting a few more minutes to make sure Will wasn’t returning, Angel turned and walked toward the end of the balcony and jumped down to the sidewalk. He ran across the street, entered his building and walked toward the elevator. A million questions flashed though his head that he had no answers to, and those questions only led to more. The questions continued to bombard him as he rode the elevator up to his floor. He walked quickly, unlocked his door and threw his coat onto a chair after he pulled out his cell phone. He punched a series of numbers and waited until it was answered on the other end.

“Faith.”

“Hey Angel…how are things treating you in the Big Apple?”

“Things are good here. How are you doing? How’s Robin?”

“I’m fine…he’s fine…we’re fine. Can you believe it? 25 years. Who’d have ever thought I’d still be with one person after 25 years.”

“I’m glad to hear that Faith. I’m really glad. Look, the reason why I’m calling is that I need your help with something.”

“Anything for you, Angel, you know that?”

“I know. You’re a good friend Faith. What I’m about to tell you is going to sound really unbelievable. In fact, I didn’t quite believe it at first. Thought I was finally losing my mind.”

“Come on, Angel…spit it out. You’re starting to worry me. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Faith. Really I am.” Angel proceeded to fill her in on everything that had been going on since Will appeared without warning in his class. He described his recent visit from Dominic. Angel had told her about Dominic’s original appearance in the pub in Dublin as soon as he returned to New York.

“You’re shitting me? Angel…Spike’s back as a human? But how?”

“Well, I’m not sure if it’s really Spike…I mean…he’s not all Spike, but he sure looks a lot like him…well actually more like William. Spike shanshued. Apparently he’s come to New York to seek me out for answers. He’s been having dreams since he was a kid about his life as William before he was turned and afterwards when he became Spike. According to Dominic, he’s come to me for answers.”

“What else did Dominic tell you?”

Angel went on and told her all about his recent conversation with him.

“I just can’t believe this Angel. I can only imagine your reaction when he first appeared in your class.”

“I couldn’t believe it either. But that’s not all. I saw him in a park tonight and a vampire almost killed him. He was prepared. He had a stake and dusted it. Then I followed him home. His patio door was open, so I was able to listen when he got a phone call from Giles.”

“Giles? What does Giles have to do with this?”

“I don’t know, Faith. That’s why I’m calling. You knew nothing of this?”

“Honest Angel. I didn’t. If I did, I would have told you. Believe me.”

“I do Faith, but I had to check and make sure. I can’t call Giles about this. We haven’t talked since that night I asked for his help to get Fred back and he refused. I can’t ask Buffy either as we haven’t been in contact since the events in the alley. Do you think she knows anything about this?”

“I don’t think so, Angel. I’m occasionally in touch with her and the rest of the gang, and they haven’t said anything to me. Giles must be keeping them all in the dark about this.”

“Do you think you can nose around and find out anything? You still have your contacts since you retired, don’t you?”

“Yes. I’ll see what I can find out. Have you talked to Willow about this yet? She may be the person to go to with this.”

“No, I haven’t. I was thinking of that. Think you can call her?”

“Yeah, I’ll do that. I’ll get back to you as soon as I find out something.”

“Thanks Faith. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. That’s what friends are for.”

Angel smiled slightly as they said their goodbyes, but the good feeling from talking with Faith dissipated and he began to pace; his clenched fists stiff at his sides. The evening had been stressful. His emotions were in turmoil and he seemed to have no control over them. He had no control over his thoughts either. They cascaded haphazardly though his mind, knocking each other out of focus. A memory from his past blurred into a thought from the present and that thought disappeared into another from his time as Angelus.

Angel stopped suddenly. He stood still for a moment and then went into his bedroom. He walked to his dresser, knelt down and opened the bottom drawer. He lifted several pairs of sweatpants and retrieved the DVD case that lay there. He stared at it for a moment but finally took the case out, returned the sweats to the drawer and closed it. He stood and went back to the living room, turned on the TV and slid the disk into the drawer of the DVD player. Again he stopped. Do I want to watch this? He had watched it once right after Lorne gave it to him…before the alley…and then every few years or so when he was feeling especially lonely and lost. Am I trying to open all of my wounds? William may be Spike shanshued but he is still William, not Spike.

Angel sighed, sank into the leather sofa and pressed play. Lorne’s voice boomed from the television as he sang A Place Called Home. The huge building that was Wolfram and Hart began the show and then the images of his lost friends appeared. Clips of Fred in her lab. Wesley at his desk behind piles of books. Gunn’s office. The shelves of robots that he collected. Gunn sitting behind his desk, looking professional in his lawyer suit and tie. Harmony at her desk cluttered with her collection of unicorns. Spike prowling the corridors, unaware that he was being filmed. Spike in the lab with Fred. Spike sprawled on the sofa in his office, a mischievous grin on his face. Him sitting stiffly behind his enormous desk, refusing to look up into the camera. His apartment when everyone came over to have Chinese. All of them: Fred, Gunn, and Wes eating their take out and laughing together. Even he had a smile on his face…briefly. Spike, alone, staring out of a window. One of their morning meetings. All of them with their portfolios open, watching him expectantly. Spike slouching in his chair at the end of the table, fingers steepled, mouth smirking, eyes staring…at him. Him as a puppet stalking through the corridor, daring anyone to say something. Spike laughing hysterically at his tiny puppet self. Spike, smiling and talking animatedly at some party with several staff members. Spike pale, sleeping in his hospital bed, his arms heavily bandaged. The evening in his apartment when Wes and Gunn brought the video system and games. The surprise on Spike’s face, obviously touched by the gesture. Spike grinning at him because he couldn’t manipulate his large fingers on the keypad. Spike battling with Illyria in the training room. Illyria standing as if frozen, apparently looking at nothing. Spike at a club, reciting poetry on a stage lit by a spotlight. Spike at another party, his arms around two young women. Shaky pictures of Lorne strolling through the halls, apparently taken by Spike. Spike and he facing off. Spike’s grin turning into anger. His own face taut with annoyance, his mouth grimacing into a thin line. Wes, Gunn, Spike and him at one of their final meetings, everyone serious. Spike alone, staring out of a window. Spike sitting alone on the steps in the foyer. Spike, Wes, Gunn drinking together at a bar. Spike sleeping on the sofa in his office. Him sitting alone at his desk.

Angel clicked off the DVD and the television. He put his head on the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. Tears slipped from behind his lids as he replayed the film in his mind and remembered his friends. He had watched it reluctantly when Lorne first gave it to him. He had watched it again and noticed how often Spike was alone. How often the younger vampire must have slept in a chair in some office. On the sofa in his office. Angel fell asleep and his dreams were awash in memories of his friends and of Spike. Spike as the newly made William. Pale and frightened. Later, as Spike, full of spit and vinegar. He dreamed of the mine in Yorkshire when he came very close to staking Spike after the younger vampire had endangered all of them with his rash bravado. He dreamed of Spike bursting from the amulet and awoke with a start. It was close to dawn and he staggered into his bedroom, undressed and crawled into bed. The fitful sleep on the sofa did not sate the exhaustion of his body and mind.

~Part: 14~

Angel woke hours later. When he glanced at the clock, it was late afternoon. He got up and showered quickly. He wanted to look over his notes for tonight’s class. He also had to do some laundry. The basket in his closet was overflowing. He dressed and carried the laundry into the tiny alcove at the edge of kitchen. He tossed the clothing into the washer and turned it on. He made himself a mug of blood in the microwave and carried it to his desk to retrieve his notes. Even though he had taught the class for fifteen years, he changed it almost every semester. He had more slides to show tonight. This time the art was all geared toward the mythology of Greece and Rome. The students seemed to be more comfortable with these images since most of them knew the ancient myths. There was usually a lively discussion about the art and the myths that had influenced the stories of later societies. The next class would be Gothic Art and the early Renaissance. He had to skip huge sections in the History of Art timeline, but the class was only a semester and he couldn’t possibly do everything. He always made sure he saved time for Modern Art and Pop Art, neither of which he liked, but the students always did. He had found an artist in the neighborhood who created Pop Art and he always took his class to the man’s studio at the end of course.

When Angel entered his classroom, he glanced around the room. Will was in his seat in the back. When he saw Angel look at him, he lowered his head to his notebook. Angel tensed. At the end of the class, the young man was one of the first out of the door. Angel walked home, conflicting emotions slowing his pace. He felt dejected because Will obviously wanted nothing to do with the crazy vampire who plagued his dreams, relieved because the young man would be safer away from him and hurt, although he had no right to be. When he got home, he finished his laundry and put in an old Star Wars film. He drank several glasses of Jameson’s as he watched the young heroes save the world. He fell asleep on his sofa and dreamed that he was Hans Solo and Spike was Luke Skywalker.

He awoke before dawn, groggy and stiff from his second night on the couch and stumbled into his bedroom to sleep again. When he awoke hours later, he showered and opened his package of books on Victorian painters and spent the afternoon and evening reading and sketching. Each time an image from his past, during his time with Darla, Drusilla and Spike in London tried to insinuate itself into his thoughts, he determinedly shoved it aside. But later as he lay in bed, his mind overruled him and he spent hours thrashing about, and worrying about Will, until he finally fell asleep as the weak winter sun rose in the sky.

He woke late in the afternoon and hurriedly showered and went early to his office at the university. He wanted to check the slides in the projector before class.

“Good evening. I hope you’ve all read the chapter on Gothic Art. Who can give me an encapsulated version of the style?”

One of his most interested students raised her hand and began the discussion. As usual, only a few of the students were interested in the period. He glanced to the back and Will was there, although his head was bent to his notebook. He shut the lights and began to show the slides of the various cathedrals whose facades contained intricate sculptures of saints, angels and demons and the frescoes, panels, stained glass, and manuscript illumination that were created during the period.

He moved swiftly into a brief lecture on the early Renaissance painters. As he expected, the artist that fascinated the students most was Hieronymus Bosch. Fortunately, his slides of the period were filled with the complex paintings of the artist whose works, though highly religious in subject, depicted sin and human failings, brutality and torture.

When the lights came up, the students gathered their things and left. Will’s seat was already empty. He locked everything in his office and walked home. The grisly scenes in Bosch’s paintings probably inspired images from our sadistic past. As he walked toward the park, he heard shouting and hurried to find the cause. He stopped, stunned. He could see Will in the dim light of the streetlamp battling several demons. Angel knew that Will was no match for them, but he could see a lot of Spike in the human’s fighting. The only thing that was missing was Spike’s arrogant taunting that always egged his opponent to fight on to its death. Will seemed to have better sense than to do that. They were Kralle demons, seven foot beasts whose long arms ended in several six inch long claws. For all that his fighting style reminded him of Spike, Will was human and he was losing the fight. The demons slashed his body brutally. Angel roared, his face immediately changing. Startled, the demons looked up. Before they could decide how to act, Angel was on them. He twisted the necks of two of the demons and their heads fell to the ground; their bodies collapsed into putrid ooze. The remaining demon ran. Angel did not pursue but knelt quickly at Will’s side. He was bleeding from the many tears in his skin but he was breathing.

As Angel picked him up, two policemen stepped from the bushes.

“Can we do anything, sir? We’ll call an ambulance.”

“No. No. I’ll take him home with me. He…he has no family in town.”

The older cop nodded although he looked uncertain. The boy’s wounds looked deep, but he had been told to only offer assistance to this man, never to insist.

“Thank you.” Angel returned the nod and hurried out of the park. He ran the short block to his apartment and entered the building. The elevator was waiting and he carried Will inside and rode impatiently the twelve floors to his apartment, constantly watching the rise and fall of the young man’s thin chest. The vampire carefully held him against his chest with one arm as he opened the door. He kicked it closed with his foot. He walked quickly into the bathroom and laid Will on the floor near the tub and reached over to turn on the taps. As the water poured into the huge tub, Angel carefully removed the young man’s clothes. He bit his lip at the extensive wounds. Will moaned. “Shhhh. You’ll be all right, Will. It’s Professor McDonagh. I’ll take care of you, like you took care of me.”

Will’s eyelids fluttered open briefly and Angel could see that the pain and tears had dulled his brilliant blue eyes before they closed again; his dark lashes cast shadows on his pale cheeks. The vampire lifted the slender body into the warm water. Will moaned again but did not open his eyes. As Angel sponged off the blood, a memory of bathing a fledgling William floated into his mind. The women were gone and they had hunted. The prostitute that the young vampire accosted had a knife and plunged it into William as he bit into her neck. Angelus had helped William home and had the minions prepare a bath. “Don’t know where that knife has been, boy. Best to clean you up.” Although William had been embarrassed at first, he was a sensual being, and quickly reveled in the luxury of Angelus bathing him. Of course the intimacy of the bath aroused Angelus and although he protested, William knew his pleas would be ignored. Angelus took what he wanted when he wanted it. Something of tenderness always quickly devolved into brutality.

Angel reached for one of his huge bath towels and laid it on the cold tile floor. He lifted Will from the tub and laid him on the towel, quickly wrapping him up and standing. He carried the unconscious young man into his bedroom. He flung back the heavy quilt and placed Will on the bed, covering him with the soft sheet. He hurried back to the bathroom and gathered supplies to tend his wounds. Will had not moved nor opened his eyes. Angel drew back the covers and began to disinfect the cuts; several of them were very deep. He needs stitches. Should I call an ambulance? How would I explain the injuries? What does that matter? He needs medical attention. Then he remembered. One of his neighbors was a nurse. She was a friend of sorts ever since he had helped her with an abusive husband, although she didn’t know he was a vampire.

He covered Will and hurried to the telephone and called Mary. She answered after several rings and it was obvious from her groggy voice that she had been sleeping.

“Mary, it’s Professor McDonagh…Liam, I’m sorry to bother you but a young student has been hurt. He needs stitches. He doesn’t want to go to the hospital. Could you…?”

The woman interrupted, her voice awake and strong now. “I’ll get dressed. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

About five minutes later, Angel heard a knock on the door. He practically ran to open it. Mary, slightly disheveled, stood there, a small medical bag in her hands.

“Come in. He’s in my bedroom.”

Mary immediately went over to the bed and gently lifted the coverlet. She drew in her breath sharply and turned to Angel. “What made these cuts?”

Angel stared at her for a minute, wondering what to say, and then the woman looked away and opened her bag. She began to cleanse and disinfect the wounds and got out her suture kit.

“Mary…um…are you aware…there are other beings besides humans on the planet.”

She looked up at him sharply. “Demons?”

Angel looked at her, surprised. “Yes. Will was attacked by demons with extremely long claws.”

She turned her head and continued her work as she spoke. “I’ve…I’ve heard things…and people have arrived in the emergency room with injuries like this. I can accept that demons could do so much damage. It’s when the perpetrator is a human being that infuriates me.”

When she began to stitch the deeper wounds, Angel turned away. That beautiful skin now scarred. Why? Because he came to New York to find me. To find out about his memories. He lived without danger for twenty-five years and within weeks of arriving here, near me, he’s almost killed. He needs to go home. Forget about…forget about who he was as Spike. He needs to be safe. He needs to be far away from me. He started. Mary had apparently said something to him and he hadn’t responded.

“Sorry. I…I’m worried about him. His parents are out of the country. I don’t know how to contact them.”

The nurse smiled at him. “I’ve closed the wounds. He…he should be all right, but we need to be vigilant. I don’t know what was...I don’t know if there was poison of any kind in those…claws. I’ve drawn a blood sample and I’ll take it to the hospital lab so I know what kind of meds he might need. You’ll watch over him?”

“Yes, I…I won’t leave his side. You’ll call me with the lab results?”

“Yes. I’ll drive to the hospital now. My friend is working in the lab tonight so I can rush this.” She touched Angel’s arm. “We’ll find out. We’ll help him, Professor.”

Angel nodded and glanced at the injured young man in his bed.

Mary touched his arm again. “I’ll show myself out. You stay with him. Watch for a fever.”

Angel looked at her and nodded again. Mary turned and left the room and the apartment.

He dragged a chair close to the bed and sat down, grasping one of Will’s slender hands in his, rubbing his thumb over the back. Another image from the past flitted into his thoughts. One night Spike had gone out to hunt on his own when they were all in Vienna. Angelus…he… was livid. They were leaving the next night. Mobs were searching the streets after a series of brutal murders by other vampires. Spike had slipped out despite being ordered to stay in. Angelus thought briefly about letting the mob kill the annoying younger vampire, but…Drusilla was calmer when Spike was with her and…and Spike was often good company when the women were gone. Angelus had moved stealthily through the streets avoiding the mob. He followed Spike’s scent and found him in a barn, cowering in a stall. He had been beaten badly. His eyes were almost swollen shut and a bone protruded from his leg. Spike had looked at him, his blue eyes burning with pain. Angelus scooped him up and carefully carried him home. He had bathed and cleansed his wounds. Drusilla could do nothing but weep and moan. Darla would have rather Spike died. After he was clean and bandaged, Angelus sat briefly by his bedside. Spike’s eyes fluttered open and he reached out his hand. Startled, Angelus took it.

“Thank you, Sire. I…I didn’t change. They didn’t…know I was a vampire. They were crazed and just kept hitting me until I got away.”

Angelus nodded and rubbed his thumb across the back of the younger vampire’s hand briefly, until Darla shouted for him to return to her. He suffered her wrath for rescuing the troublesome vampire.

An hour later, Angel sat in the chair by the bed, reading. He looked up every few minutes to see if Will had awakened. He raised his head whenever the young man moaned. When he reached over to touch his slender fingers, he found that they were hot. He stood up and leaned over to touch Will’s flushed face. It was burning with fever.

Angel hurried into the kitchen for a basin and walked quickly to the bathroom to fill it with cool water. He grabbed a small hand towel and returned to the bedroom. Placing the basin on the bedside table, he sat at the edge of the bed and began to sponge Will with the cool water. He heard a knock at the door and hurried to open it. Mary stood there, her face white. “Professor, we know it is a poison…but we…we don’t know what kind. We can give him antibiotics for infection, but…”

Angel swore his heart constricted as he stood aside to let her enter. “Come in. I…I was afraid that there would be nothing to combat this demon blood. It is not that well known in the United States, so no research has been done.”

Mary administered some antibiotics. “Call me…if…if you need anything. Hopefully, they’ll work until his body can fight back.” She smiled sadly and left.

Angel got fresh water and bathed Will’s face and neck. He stared helplessly at the young man; the young man who looked exactly like William…who had been William…and then Spike. A thought suddenly forced its way into focus. If I…If I make him a vampire he’ll be okay. Okay! He’ll be a demon…a soulless demon.” Angel was horrified that he had thought about turning the young man. He sat in the chair and reached for Will’s hand. Suddenly, he began to writhe as if in agony. He whispered in a raspy voice. “Angelus…stop…stop…”

Angel stiffened and his dark eyes blurred with tears. Will began to toss his head as he groaned softly. He spoke softly in a raspy voice. “So? I get what I came for? I passed, right? So you’ll give me what I want. Make me what I was. So Buffy can get what she deserves.”

Angel went rigid as soon as he heard Buffy’s name. This…this must be when he went to Africa for his soul. Faith had told Angel that Spike had gone to Africa and suffered a series of trials to get his soul, apparently after he attempted to rape the slayer. At first he was furious, but Faith had given him some insights about the mutual brutality of the relationship that she had learned about from Willow.

Will began to flail his head back and forth wildly on the pillow. “No visitors today…Don’t you think I’m trying? I tried to cut it out! Get these sodding things off me! So that’s it, innit? Brought me here to kill me…wanted you to know that…before I kill you.”

Tears poured down Will’s flushed cheeks and he quieted for a while. Angel had just dozed off, when the young man began to speak again. “You’re no more in control than I am. Except I’m not gonna bloody stand for it. Hurt Angel, that it? You want me to hurt Angel? You’ve come to the right ghost.”

Angel thought about what Will had just said. It must be his conversation with that necromancer…Hainsley.

Will’s body stilled and he began to talk in a quiet, gentle voice. “I know what’s down there – where it’s trying to take me – and it’s not the place heroes go. Not by a bloody long shot. It’s the other one. Full of fire and torment. And it’s happening. And I’m terrified. Help me?”

A sob escaped from the usually stoic vampire. He got onto the bed and leaned back on the headboard. He carefully took the young man’s suffering body into his arms. Fred told me this. I wasn’t interested, but she told me anyway. I didn’t care. I didn’t care if Spike died.

Will’s body began to tremble again. Angel rubbed his back and whispered softly. “Shhh, Will…Shhh, you’re safe. Don’t be afraid…come back, Will…fight this…please fight this. You can’t die…again…”

The young man stopped shaking. He turned his body slightly and rested his cheek in the crook of Angel’s neck. He licked the neck once, sighed and stilled.

Angel shuddered. There were only a very few times that William gotten this close to him. He drifted back into memory and remembered one evening when Darla and Drusilla had gone to Paris to shop. He and William had spent the evening creating mayhem in the foggy London streets and then came back to the house. They bathed and went upstairs to the huge bedroom that Angelus shared with Darla. The older vampire lit the fire and they sat in front of it, passing the bottle of whiskey back and forth. Angelus coaxed William to recite some of his poems and they eventually fell asleep on the floor in front of the fire. Angelus woke in the night and William was pressed tightly to him. His arm was slung across Angelus’ waist and his cheek was nestled in the crook of the older vampire’s neck. Angelus had been startled but comforted by the closeness and fell back to sleep.

Angel continued to rub the young man’s back, relishing the feeling of connection with another being…in truth, the comfort of holding the young man who looked so much like the vampire he lost so long ago in the alley. He refused to consider all the reasons that it was wrong, until out of exhaustion, he too fell asleep.

~Part: 15~

Angel dreamed. He searched his memories, but all of the faces were indistinct, enveloped in mist. He was so warm. He couldn’t remember being this warm. His arms were wrapped around someone. Who? Who was he holding? He couldn’t open his eyes. The body he held was slender and so warm. Warm breath tickled his neck. A warm leg rested over his. It felt so good. His hand caressed soft, warm skin. He had been alone for so long and now he was close to someone. Who shared his bed? He didn’t want to wake up. He wanted to bask in the warmth of this body he held. It felt so good to have someone in his arms; to share such closeness. His body responded to the intimacy and he dreamed. Dreamed of loving someone, sharing a sensual coupling. Ecstasy.

Angel opened his eyes. The dream had been so real. He glanced down at the body he held in his arms and stopped. It was Spike! No…no. As his mind threw off the fog of sleep, he remembered. It’s Will! Oh, God! The vampire slipped quickly, yet carefully, from the passionate embrace that he had felt in his dreams. Will moaned and burrowed deeper into the covers. Angel stood by the bed and stared at the young man whose flushed face was cut and bruised; the human young man he had rescued from demons. His student! Angel was horrified by his thoughts and his body’s response. He’s injured and helpless and I…I dream about… Shaking his head disgustedly, Angel walked into the bathroom and turned the shower onto cold. He undressed and stepped inside, determined to drive away the warmth of the dreams and his desire; determined to ignore his need for release. After several long, uncomfortable minutes, he had achieved his goal. His erection had subsided without satisfaction. He washed and got out of the shower. Taking his terry cloth robe from the hook, he wrapped it around his body and brushed his teeth.

He walked quietly into the bedroom and risked a glance at the bed. He could only see Will’s light brown hair and flushed face resting on the pillow. His body was hidden beneath the blankets. Angel dressed quietly in house pants and a long sleeved t-shirt and walked into the kitchen. He made himself a mug of blood and strolled to the huge window at the end of the loft. The weather had worsened. Snow fell so heavily he could barely see the street. The dark clouds hovered low in the slate sky as if impatiently waiting their turn to drop their frozen burden on the already buried city. It looked as if a blizzard had arrived while he…while I had sexual dreams about a young man; a human being troubled by gruesome memories of the vampire that he had been. A young man who had been horrifically injured by demons he had attempted to fight. The supernatural remnants of Spike’s bravado would kill him. I have to…what…train him to fight so he can…so he can die again?

Angel shivered but not from the cold. He heard the clock strike four times. It was late afternoon. He turned from the window when he heard a voice cry out and he hurried into the bedroom. Will had tossed off the covers. His naked body gleamed with sweat; his fevered blue eyes wild with fear.

“What…where…what am I doing here?” He glanced down at his nude body and quickly covered himself with a sheet. “What did you do? Why am I here?” Suddenly his body spasmed and he gasped with pain. He fell back onto the pillows and groaned pitifully.

Angel drew close to the bed and spoke softly. “Will…last night you fought some demons…they hurt you pretty badly. I…I brought you here to tend your wounds. The demon claws contained poison…a poison that …I didn’t know a remedy.” Angel continued speaking in a rush. “A friend, a nurse, sutured your deeper cuts and brought antibiotics. You’ve been unconscious for a while.”

Will opened his eyes and whispered, “Am I dying?”

Angel smiled at the obviously frightened young man. “No…no. My friend, Mary, has been helping me to monitor your condition. Your body and the medicines have been fighting the poison, but the fever has left you very weak and you’ve not eaten. Can I make you tea…toast?”

Will stared at Angel and shook his head. He groaned again and held his hands to his head. “Head…hurts. I’m hot.” He sighed, glanced once more at Angel and closed his eyes.

Angel drew the blanket over the young man, worriedly watched him for several minutes in case he should reawaken, and then left the bedroom. He walked to his desk and picked up his cell phone. He had a message. Angel listened and sighed, relieved. Classes were cancelled due to the storm. He had a temporary reprieve, but he had to talk to the Dean about finding a substitute for him. He could not leave Will alone and Mary often had a shift at night. He erased the message and then punched in a number.

“Mr. Worthington, yes it’s Liam McDonagh. I need your help. I know you have contacts. I need to find a potion that will stop the poison of a Kralle demon. One of my students tried to fight three of them in the park last night and was hurt badly. Yes, I brought him here. A friend has been giving him antibiotics, but…okay. Yes, I’ll wait to hear from you. Thanks.”

After just a few minutes, the phone rang and he answered immediately. “Hello…yes…oh…I never noticed. I’ll go now, thank you.”

He punched in Mary’s number and asked the woman if she could stay with Will while he went to get medicine. She came immediately and he rushed out into the night. A new occult shop had opened not too far away. Morgana’s Chamber. The proprietress was a witch. He had frequented a shop next to Mr. Worthington’s book store, but the elderly wizard had died and now it was a second hand clothing shop. He had not had the need to find another such shop, until now.

The cold wind blew the snow into his face as he strode down the street. Although it was a short distance, he searched for cabs as he walked but the bad weather must have sent them all home. He had no body temperature but he was getting soaked with the heavy snowfall. As he peered through the wildly blowing flakes he saw that most of the shops were shuttered and he was the only one out in the streets. Even the vagrants had disappeared.

Angel saw the soft glow coming from a lone shop in the middle of the next block and he increased his pace. He stopped and stared into the softly lit window filled with books, trinkets and all sorts of mystical gee-gaws. A tall woman with long auburn hair walked from behind a curtain and waved to him. He opened the door and went in. She smiled at him. “Liam McDonagh?”

Angel was startled and it must have shown on his face. The woman laughed, a quiet, tinkling sound, like a breaking glass wrapped in velvet. “Jeremy called me…Jeremy Worthington.”

“Oh.” Angel answered dumbly. “I…”

The woman interrupted. “I know. Kralle demon. I have everything ready. I had to substitute a few ingredients but it should work well enough. The mystical part was the easiest.” She handed him a small shopping bag that contained a little octagonal jar and a tiny clear envelope. “The ointment will increase his fever at first but it’s burning out the poison. So there’s no need to worry.”

She handed him a purple bottle. “Use this to make him a tisane. It’s slightly bitter, but it will speed up his healing power. Add some sugar to make it palatable. The other packet in the bag is lavender and rose oil. Put that in cool water and sponge him.” She smiled. “I’ve always wanted to meet you, Angel.”

Angel stiffened and she laughed again. “I know Willow. She’s told me a little about you. She and Jeremy trust you and so will I. Take this to the boy. It will take a few days but he will be well. If there’s anything else I can ever do for you…” She smiled again and handed him a tiny card with her name and number.

He reached into his pocket and handed her some bills. She nodded and he turned and left the shop. He hurried through the windy streets; through the frigid snow blanketing the city.

He arrived home and found Mary dozing in the chair by the bed. She hadn’t heard him come in. He touched her shoulder and she jumped. “Oh…sorry. I…I worked a double shift today.”

Angel smiled at her. “Thank you, Mary. I’m grateful for all your help.”

The woman returned his smile. “That’s what friends do for each other.”

They said goodnight and Angel was left alone. Despite his worry for Will, he…he felt…good. Jeff Cardiff had been a very good friend. He often saw the man and his now married daughters. Mary and Mr. Worthington had become friends and tonight he made a new acquaintance, Morgana. He wondered briefly if Willow had told her everything about him…of course she did. And anyone remotely connected to the supernatural knew about Angelus. He shook himself as if to dislodge the self-pity that occasionally permeated his thoughts.

Angel went into the kitchen, boiled water, mixed in the tisane and added several teaspoons of sugar. He took the cup and the little bag into the bedroom. Will had thrown off the covers again and his flushed skin glowed in the dim light. Angel grimaced at the crisscross of scratches and stitches that marred the pale skin. He set down the tisane and sat on the edge of the bed staring at the beautiful young man. He reached for the jar that held the tincture. A scent of mint wafted into the air. He began to gently rub the ointment onto the sutured gashes in Will’s skin. He hissed in his sleep but did not waken. Soft…soft, pale skin…like…like William’s…like Spike’s. Translucent…almost can see the blood pumping through the veins. Banishing his thoughts, he finished ministering to Will’s wounds and covered him with the sheet. He lifted the boy to a semi-sitting position against the back of the bed, and reached for the tisane. Angel touched his burning cheek with his cool fingers. “Here Will, drink this. It will make you well.”

The young man didn’t respond; he didn’t open his mouth. Angel dipped a finger into the liquid and laid it on Will’s lips. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the young’s man’s tongue licked the vampire’s finger. Angel immediately felt his groin stiffen but he angrily controlled his desire. He coated his finger again with the mixture and held it against Will’s lips until his tongue licked it again. His eyes suddenly fluttered open.

Angel smiled at him and spoke quietly. “Will, it’s Professor McDonagh. You’ve been ill. This is medicine. Will you drink it?”

His blue eyes were luminous with the heat of the fever as he stared at Angel and he answered in a raspy whisper. “Demons.”

Angel nodded and spoke quickly before Will collapsed into sleep again. “Kralle demons from Germany. They’re not that common in America. We didn’t have an exact antidote. I got a salve and the mixture for this tisane from a friend of a friend. It contains an herb mixture that will help your fever.”

Will stared at him and then nodded, wincing. Angel held the cup to his lips and he swallowed several mouthfuls before he grimaced and scrunched up his face. “Tastes…terrible.”

Angel grinned at him and then had to again force down the sudden stiffness in his groin. He held the cup to Will’s lips again. Holding Angel’s gaze, he sipped another mouthful and then pulled back.

“You can take more later. Are you hungry?”

Will nodded no and winced again. “Everything hurts. My head. My skin.” He looked down at his arms laced with stitches. His eyes filled suddenly with tears.

Angel hurried to reassure him. “They won’t scar too much. My friend was careful and she left cream to massage on the sutures after the poison is gone.”

Will rested his head against the back of the bed and the tears slipped from beneath his lids. A sob shook his chest.

Angel put down the cup and took one of the young man’s hands. “Can I call someone? Your family?” As he said this, he selfishly hoped that the boy would refuse and want to stay in New York.

Will whispered. “No…no one to call.” He slowly opened his eyes as the lids were too heavy to lift and moaned pitifully. “My head…hurts...it…hurts.”

“It’s the fever. Lie down, Will. Rest is the best thing right now. You’re safe here.”

“Thank you, Professor.” He slid down into the blankets, rested his head on the pillow and closed his eyes, never releasing Angel’s hand from his grasp. He was immediately asleep.

Angel sat on the edge of the bed for a few minutes staring at the beautiful young man. He rubbed his thumb over the back of the hand still clutching his. Memories floated through his mind. Memories of tending fledgling William’s wounds; always when Darla and Drusilla were gone. He tried to keep up; tried to show me that he learned his lessons. He learned his lessons well…lessons of death.

Angel stood up suddenly and hurried into the kitchen and filled a basin with cool water. He dissolved the packet of herbs and carried the basin and a towel back into the bedroom. He sat on the bed, dipped an edge of the towel into the water and gently sponged the boy’s face and body, avoiding the sutured areas to allow the ointment to work. The room began to smell of mint, lavender and roses. He set the basin aside and sat down on the chair. Totally exhausted with long hours and worry, Angel succumbed to sleep.

He was awakened by pitiable moans. Will tossed his head back and forth on the pillow, mumbling something that Angel could not hear. Angel got out of the chair, leaned over and pressed his hand against Will’s forehead. It was hotter than before! Oh God…could it…was it too much? Then he remembered, Morgana said the fever would flare.

Will began to fling his head about more violently. He twisted his body and kicked his feet until the covers slipped. Sweat shimmered on the pale skin. Will’s voice trembled with fear. “No…no…Angelus…no…no more. Please…”

Another shard of pain thrust into Angel’s guilt worn heart. He’s remembering…he’s remembering one of the many times I tortured him.

Angel tried to bathe the young man’s face with the herbed water again, but he still thrashed about. He stood helplessly wondering what to do next. Remembering another time in his past with the newly turned William, he put the basin down and walked to the other side of the bed. He climbed into the bed next to Will and took him into his arms as he murmured, “Hush, Will, hush. You’re safe.” The young man quieted immediately and turned to his side, pressing his fevered body against Angel’s cold flesh.

As Angel slept, his mind once again drifted to the past. He dreamed of his first meeting with William…his cocky bravado. Angelus had been intrigued and annoyed. He dreamed of his salacious and brutal initiation of the young fledge into the family. There were some tender moments between the two unsouled vampires, especially when Darla and Drusilla were gone, but Angelus always tempered them with ruthless, vicious, physical assaults. William was too soft for his own good. Angelus had to make him a monster. If he didn’t, then William wouldn’t last long as a vampire. And he wanted William to last. He dreamed of the hunts they’d go on together and their rough carnal couplings afterwards…the scent of their victims’ fear aroused them and the tantalizing taste of their blood as they drank from them made their cold vampire bodies vibrate with lust and power. There was nothing soft and romantic about it. They were savagely sybaritic in their copulation, often doing it in alleys while their victims lay at their feet. They’d tear at each other’s clothes, and Angelus, ever the dominant male, would press William against the wall and plunge into him. He’d smell blood from both the torn flesh of William’s channel and his hand as the younger vampire bit down to muffle his screams of frenzied sexual gratification. To a non-human, they sounded like cries of torture and anguish, but to Angelus’ ears they were like a symphony…passion and pain entwined ferociously together. William's moans would spur him on and soon they both would come violently. He into William and William into his hand.

Angel woke suddenly as a powerful orgasm ripped through his body and his arms tightened involuntarily around the body curved next to him.

“Bloody hell, Angel!” A voice shouted sharply from the bed beside him. “Watch what you’re doing with those bloody gargantuan arms of yours.”

Angel blinked. I’m lost in my dream. I’m hearing Spike’s voice.

“Heave off will you.” The voice said again as the body apparently attached to the voice struggled to withdraw from Angel’s powerful embrace.

Angel relaxed his grip slightly and looked down at the body twisting in his arms. “Spike?” Angel asked incredulously, still disoriented from his dream and horrified at his response to it.

“Who the hell else would it be and what the bloody hell am I doing in your bed…naked? And is that come that I smell?”

“But…but…Will?”

“Will? What are going on about?” He looked at Angel puzzled. “You haven’t called me that in over 100 years.”

Angel sat there in bed and could do nothing but stare at the young man lying next to him, his face scrunched in annoyance. He looked like Will, but now he sounded an awful lot like the Spike he knew. But Spike was dead…come back to life as a human…as Will. Angel opened his mouth but no sound came out. He felt paralyzed. Except for the slight movement of his arms to release Will…Spike, he couldn’t move. It was like he was being held in place by some invisible force, and all he could do was gawk at the man in bed with him.

Will quirked his eyebrow…his scared eyebrow, as he looked at Angel but the vampire could form no words. “Well, ponce. Know you’re a man of few sodding words, but I need some answers.” Will shook his head and moved to get up. He hissed and stopped as he clasped his head. He glared at Angel and moved more slowly. Angel watched a grimace of pain flash across Will’s flushed face as he gingerly climbed out of bed. He didn’t bother to cover his nude body and smirked as he noticed that Angel’s eyes were quickly shifting back and forth from his face to his groin. As he lifted his eyes back to Will’s, Angel was brought up short by the smirk. It was pure Spike.

“Must have been some fight…haven’t hurt this much since that bloody battle over the fake cup.” He paused, waiting for some response from Angel. As he stared at the older vampire, he smirked again, although his eyes revealed some exasperation at the still silent vampire. “I take it since we’re both here, that we got out of that bloody alley. Looks like I’m the worse for wear though. What about the others? Gunn…Illyria…”

Angel couldn’t say anything…he was in shock; totally confused about what was happening.

Will sighed. “You’ll have to tell me all about it. My brain’s a bit fuzzy at the moment and I gotta take a piss first.”

Angel didn’t know what the hell was going on. It was Will, but it wasn’t. How in the world is that possible? He was forced out of his jumbled thoughts when he heard a loud curse and a crash in the bathroom. He bounded from the bed and raced quickly to the bathroom where he found Will laying on the cold linoleum floor, his face stark white, his blue eyes glittering with anger and fright. The young man looked up at him in shock and confusion.

“Will?” He knelt down to the figure sprawled on the tiles. “Are you okay?”

“Okay?” Will asked in a shocked voice. “Am I okay? Well ain’t that the question of the century. And will you stop calling me Will. I’m Spike…haven’t been Will in a long time, you git!”

“It’s okay Will….Spike…it’s just that…”

Will interrupted, his voice a soft but angry snarl, “Answer me, Angel. Since when do I have to take a piss? And when did I get a reflection? Oh, and while you’re at it, tell me what the bloody hell is going on?”

~Part: 16~

Angel stood staring down at Will. His mouth opened and closed although he made no sound. Spike glared up at Angel, swore colorfully and then reached up, trying to grab the end of the counter and hoist himself onto his feet, but he didn’t have the strength, and fell right back down. “Bugger this!”

Spike’s fall pulled Angel out of his surprised stupor. He knelt down and put Spike’s arm around his shoulder while he snaked his long arm around the fallen man’s waist. He stood, slowly, and carefully brought the injured man with him.

“If you so much as swoop me up into your arms, you git…I swear I’ll knock you across the room.”

Angel looked at him. The worry still furrowed his brow but his eyes twinkled and his lips twitched dangerously close to a smile.

The glare Angel was given turned into Spike’s trademark cocky grin as the vampire led him back into the bedroom and helped him into bed. It was futile to even think that in his current state, he could knock Angel off balance. After he pulled the covers up, Angel sat on the bed. He placed a large hand across Spike’s forehead. It was still hot, but not as much as the prior evening. Spike shook his head to dislodge Angel’s hand but moaned at the movement. “Bloody, sodding hell. What the bloody hell is goin’ on, Angel?”

The younger man closed his eyes and stilled. Angel frowned unsure what to do. “Um…Are you thirsty? Can I get you some water?” He got up but was stopped when Spike clutched his hand. Spike’s battered face revealed something that Angel had seldom seen on his face – fear.

He spoke quietly as he stared deeply into Angel’s worried dark eyes. “No…um… Stay... Please…please…what happened? How did we get here? What happened in the alley? Where’s the rest of the gang?”

Angel bent over Spike, wiping the stray hair out of his eyes. “Let me get your medicine, and I’ll tell you everything.”

Spike nodded as he released his grip on Angel’s hand. Angel ran his fingers softly down Spike’s bruised face before turning around and hurrying out of the room.

Angel’s thoughts tumbled frenetically through his mind as he tried to grasp what was happening with Will. Confusion ran rampant. It was Will. He was still human, but all the mannerisms, body language, and speech were pure Spike. As much as the younger vampire had annoyed him incessantly, he wasn’t afraid to admit that the thought of Spike being back made him happy. Very happy. I’m not alone. He shoved the selfish thought from his mind. His happiness and relief at Spike’s return were tempered by deep concern. As he prepared the boiling water and the medicine for Spike, he realized that he would have to call Morgana. She didn’t mention that there could be side affects, especially not one like this. She only said that the fever would spike as the poison burned out of Will’s body.

Pushing his questions out of his mind, he gathered up the medicinal tisane and went back into the bedroom. He paused in the doorway of the room and stood there for a minute, watching Will…Spike…whoever the hell it was. Despite the stitches and bruising, the young man’s alabaster skin was…beautiful, just like the fledgling William’s had been. Angel watched the rise and fall of his chest and then swept his eyes upwards to his flushed face. Spike’s…Will’s eyes were closed. Thinking he had fallen back to sleep, the vampire crept quietly into the room, not wanting to disturb him. As he drew nearer to the bed, Spike’s eyes fluttered open and his head turned towards him. A hesitant smile graced his battered face.

Angel set the tisane down on the bedside table. He sat on the edge of the bed. As Spike struggled to sit up straighter, he moaned and his body trembled slightly. Angel quickly reached toward him. Spike batted his hands away and glowered. “Not an invalid, Angel.”

Angel pulled his arms away and sat back. His brow furrowed and his worried eyes never left Spike’s face. Spike glanced at the cup and then back at Angel. “What’s that then?”

“Um…it…it’s a mystical, medical tisane…it will bring down the fever.”

“Mystical…had enough mystical crap to last me two vampire lives…Never works like it’s supposed to Angel. Where’d you get it? Red in town?”

The older vampire stared. “Red?” He asked quietly.

“Red…Willow…the witch.” Spike quirked his eyebrow.

“Um…no…I mean…she…she is a witch. Her name is Morgana.” Angel answered hesitantly.

Spike grinned. “Gave up on werewolf girl, huh…tryin’ witches now are you?”

“What…what…no…Spike…” Angel stammered. “Here…drink this.” He thrust the cup into Spike’s hands.

The younger man continued to grin at Angel’s discomfort and then bent his head to take a sip of the liquid. Immediately his face scrunched. “Bloody hell you git. Smells like burnt rubber and tastes….worse.”

Angel blushed. “Oh…I forgot to add sugar.” He reached for the cup but Spike waved his hand away, swallowed another mouthful and shuddered.

“Anything this bad must work.” He handed the older vampire the cup and rested his head on the headboard. He looked at Angel for a moment and then sighed. “Now that I’ve taken my medicine like a good little boy, care to tell me what’s going on; where everyone is, and where the hell we are for that matter?”

“We’re in New York.”

“New York!” His fevered eyes glittered. “How…it’s…it’s been ages since I’ve seen the Big Apple. Let me think…30 at least.”

“Uh…Spike? Try over 50 years.”

“WHAT!!! No you ponce. That’s not right. I remember distinctly being there in the 70’s.”

“Yes, but…don’t you remember anything?”

“Sure, remember it all. Rain…alley…big fight…you wanting to slay the bloody dragon. Did you?”

Distracted by how he was going to tell Spike he didn’t hear the question. He returned his attention to Spike when he felt a hand on his. “Huh?”

“Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Slay the dragon?”

“Oh…um…yes I did.”

“Well, how come I don’t remember that? I think I’d remember something like that.”

Angel looked intently at Spike for a long moment. He watched the other man’s face…curiosity…concern…humor…various emotions played on Spike’s ever expressive face as he waited for Angel to answer. The vampire swallowed and began to speak. “Spike, there’s…there’s no other way to tell you, but to tell you straight out….it’s…it’s been over 50 years since you’ve been in New York. It’s been 25 years since the fight in the alley against the Senior Partners.”

Spike stared at Angel incredulously. His eyes glittered with humor and he started to laugh. His wounded body betrayed him and he hissed and quieted. “God Angel, and everyone said you didn’t have a sense of humor.”

“Spike, I’m serious. You didn’t survive that night in the alley. In fact no one did…except…I was the only one left. Gunn fought as long as he could. I think the only reason I survived was because of Illyria. She turned all white and glowy and incinerated everything in the alley that night.”

“And me?”

“You…” Angel swallowed. There was no easy way to tell Spike this, and the image of him dying that night burned fiercely in his memory. “You…a Fell Demon…you were killed by a Fell Demon. By the time I realized what he was doing, it…it was too late…I…I was too far away. I shouted…but I…I couldn’t get to you in time…God Spike, I’m so sorry. It’s my fault.” Angel stared into Spike’s emotionless face…surprised by the emptiness…he…he hadn’t seen that expression since…since that night in his bedroom…when Spike was still a ghost. “I can’t live like this, Angel…being useless.”

“I died…dusted…” He whispered as he searched Angel’s eyes for the truth.

“Yes…” Tears welled up in Angel’s eyes. “Oh God, you don’t know…I’m so sorry…I...” The older vampire looked down at his clenched hands for a moment and then straightened his shoulders and glanced miserably back at Spike, silently begging his forgiveness. He looked away and then back searching Spike’s face. “It…it should have been me who died that night. Not you…not Gunn…not Wes. Me!! It was my idea…my arrogant, stupid idea to take on the Senior Partners.”

Spike spoke quietly. “It was our choice too, Angel. You didn’t force us to do anything.” Spike could see how upset and guilty Angel was feeling. He reached out to offer comfort, but Angel pulled away and held his head in his hands. They were silent for a few minutes and then Angel glanced up and spoke angrily.

“How can you be so calm about this, Spike…you died!”

Spike smirked. “Well, apparently it didn’t take, did it? I’m here now. Care to explain that?”

“The prophecy…You were right…the prophecy was for you. You shanshued Spike.”

“I what?” Spike sat up, and grimaced at the pain that shot through his body.

“The prophecy…remember that? From what I’ve been able to learn, on the night you died, you came back as a human baby and were raised by a couple in London.”

“Human…I’m a bloody human…again!” Spike shouted and then fell back against the pillows, his face paler from the exertion. “So how did I get so beat up?” He asked softly.

Angel then told him everything he knew and learned since Will…the human young man…came to New York. He told him of Will’s connection with Giles and about his adoptive parents. He told him about meeting Dominic twice and his cryptic messages. He revealed what he knew about the memories of his life as Spike that were tormenting Will and the young man’s attempts to get answers…from Angel. He told him how he got hurt. Told him everything he knew…except…except for how happy he was that Spike was back.

Spike sat there and listened intently, his eyes never leaving Angel’s face. When the vampire finished speaking they stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, Spike lowered his eyes and spoke into the blankets. “Human…don’t want to be human. Hurts…hurts too much to be human.”

Angel was shocked and spoke quietly to the top of Spike’s…Will’s damp head. “But…but I thought you wanted it. Back in LA…the fight we had over the cup.”

Spike looked up and gave Angel an exasperated look. “You stupid git! You really think I wanted to become human? Hell no. I loved being a vampire. Only reason I said that was because I didn’t want you to have it, you ponce.”

“Me, why didn’t you want me to have it?”

Suddenly embarrassed, Spike looked away. Angel reached out and gently grasped his fingers on Spike chin and turned his face back around although the younger man kept his eyes lowered.

“Tell me, Spike…tell me why you didn’t want it? You sure fought hard enough for it. You kicked my ass but good to get it. Seem to remember it was the first time you beat me, so you must have wanted it.”

“No…I didn’t…Didn’t want you to have it…” Spike looked up and glared at Angel fiercely.

“Why, Spike…tell me why.”

“How stupid can you be Angel?” He snarled. “I…I didn’t want you to have it because then you’d go off and live your perfect human life…and…and there wouldn’t be…I’d have no place in it. Happy now!!!” His shoulders sagged and he closed his eyes again.

Angel brushed his fingers across the back of Spike’s hand. “No, I’m not happy. But Spike, you’re human…you have a chance to live your life as a normal person…in the light.”

“Bollocks to being normal. Who wants to be normal? What’s so great about being human? You get hurt…you get old… you die! I think being a vamp is way better what with the super strength and immortality. You stay handsome and studly forever! So what if you have to drink a little blood.”

Angel couldn't help it. He started to laugh at Spike’s little verbal tantrum. Soon Spike was joining him in laughter, until the movement started pulling at his stitches. He grabbed his middle and winced.

Worried, Angel gently pushed him back down onto the pillows. “Look Spike, you’re still weak. Let me put more of this ointment on your cuts to help them heal and you need to get your rest. We can talk more later.”

Spike let himself be pushed back onto the pillows and closed his eyes. “I am a bit tired. Maybe I’ll just rest here for a bit.”

“You do that. I’ll rub some of this stuff on your stitches.”

“Okay.”

Angel began to gently spread the tincture over the slowly healing wounds. Spike hissed at first but then settled, comforted by Angel’s gentle touch and the soothing chill of the ointment.

“Feels…good.” Spike whispered and then was silent as he fell quickly to sleep.

Angel sat for a long time watching Spike…Will…sleep, occasionally pushing the damp curls from his forehead and rubbing his fingers back and forth across the young man’s warm, slender hand. Finally he stood up and strolled into the kitchen. He fixed a mug of blood and withdrew into the living room. As he stood in front of the windows, watching the snow swirl in the harsh wind, his thoughts were mired in an emotional morass. He didn’t know who was in his bed. Spike? Will? Would Spike remain in a human body? What would happen to Will? What was he going to do? Who…who did he want…? He was tired – emotionally and physically.

Suddenly the weather intruded into his reverie. When he heard the snowflakes hitting the window, he realized they were now mixed with ice. The city that never slept had been brought to a standstill by the storm. The only vehicles he saw were a few cabs and buses and a patrol car. He sipped the warm blood from the mug. It was so quiet inside the apartment that the ringing of the doorbell rang startled him. He wasn’t expecting anyone. He frowned, walked to the door and peeked through the tiny safety hole.

Faith! Angel flung open the door; his surprise evident on his face.

The former slayer grinned at him and sashayed into the apartment carrying a small duffle bag. She whistled as she took in the large apartment. “Always did like your space, Angel. Great weather,” she groused. “The flight was supposed to land hours ago. Do you have anything that a human could eat?”

“Faith, what…what are you doing here? I mean. It’s a nice surprise but….”

“You sounded stressed on the phone, Angel, really stressed. This thing with your student who looks like Spike…” Faith stopped as she watched a flash of something swept across Angel’s almost permanently furrowed brow. “What…oh god! He didn’t die, did he?’

“Well that’s the matter in question, luv.”

Faith stepped past Angel to find out who was speaking. She knew the voice, but hadn’t heard it for more than twenty-five years. She stared at the young man before her. Except for the light brown hair, he looked exactly like Spike. He had the same sharp cheekbones and the same blue eyes that shifted from ice to fire.

“Close your mouth, luv.” He said with a smirk; Spike’s trademark smirk that she had never seen on anyone else.

She looked at Angel but couldn’t form any words. Angel watched her and shook his head. “Come in, Faith. Something has changed since I called you.”

Faith walked over to the young man who was Spike but couldn’t possibly be. She saw the pile of dust in the alley. Angel had furiously pointed it out to Buffy. She stared into his face and then spun around to face Angel, her expression incredulous and slightly annoyed. “What happened? You said it was a young man named Will, your student.”

“Sit down, Faith…please.” Angel said quietly.

At first she couldn’t move. She glanced between the two men. Everything in her mind told her that it couldn’t possibly be Spike, but no one could imitate the blonde vampire’s voice and arrogant stance. Finally she walked over to the sofa and sat down.

Spike slowly strolled over and sank into a chair wincing. He scowled as he turned his body and thrust his legs over the side as he slouched. He hissed as he settled, yet his eyes twinkled. It was the mischievous, sardonic glimmer that she had seen long ago in Buffy’s basement.

Angel sat down heavily in a near-by rocking chair and Faith tore her eyes from Spike to look at her friend. He looked worn out. She thought she could see tiny wrinkles around his eyes, which was impossible since vampires didn’t age. He smiled slightly at her, although it didn’t reach his dark, somber eyes.

He began to speak in a quiet, weary voice. “Will was attacked by three Kralle demons. The poison in their claws made him quite ill.”

Faith looked over the young man sprawled in the chair. She could see inflamed skin under the stitches on his arms and butterfly bandages on the scratches on his face. His eyes were sunken into his stark white face, making his sharp cheekbones even more pronounced. He looked thinner than she remembered. He winked at her, and then glanced over at Angel and his face altered. He looked at the older vampire tenderly and with concern. She had never seen that gentle look on his face. Angel began to speak again and she turned her attention back to her friend.

“I got medicine from a friend of a friend who is a witch. She told me it would make Will’s fever rise but that it was burning the poison out of his system.” Angel turned his head to look at the injured man reclining in the chair. Although the glance was soft, his face was creased with worry. “He…he suffered and then the fever spiked dangerously. I…bathed him with cool water laced with special herbs. I…I held him…and…we both slept and…and when he opened his eyes and spoke…he…he was Spike.”

Faith looked at her friend in dismay. “Why did you trust the witch? She must have done something else…she…”

Angel interrupted. “She knows Willow and another friend trusts her. I…I was so worried about Will…I…I would have done anything.” He lowered his head but not before Faith saw the tears glistening in his eyes.

Spike quickly swung his legs to the ground, stood up and then staggered slightly. Angel made to rise but Spike shook his head. He walked slowly over to and rested his hand on the vampire’s shoulder. “You did right, Angel. You wanted to save the boy.”

Angel looked up, his eyes sad. Spike gently stroked his cheek. “Don’t fret. We’ll figure this out. We always do.”

The older vampire nodded and grasped Spike’s hand. A look passed between them. Faith wasn’t sure exactly what she saw. Was it a look of love…a look of devotion? That was impossible. Angel and Spike had never been close friends and certainly not lovers as far as she knew; at least not since the gypsies forced a soul into the older vampire. Then she remembered those first months in Cleveland. Angel revealed a little about the last year in Los Angeles. He had told her that he and Spike had drawn closer after the younger vampire had his arms cut off by that crazed slayer. Angel spent time with Spike as he worked to rehabilitate his arms and hands. She remembered laughing at the image of Angel trying to work the controllers of the video games that Wes and Gunn bought for Spike. The older vampire had told her that they watched old films and actually played board games that Fred brought up to the penthouse. When Fred died, Angel and Spike tried to comfort each other in their own peculiar way.

Faith quickly drew herself out of her thoughts and saw that both the men were watching her.

Spike quirked his eyebrow and grinned. “It’s a puzzlement, isn’t it slayer?”

She nodded and then looked more intently at Angel. His body was slumped against the rocking chair. He looked tired but he smiled at her.

“You know, none of this surprises me.” She began. “As soon as you told me about the shanshu and Will having memories….I…” She paused and glared at Spike. “It’s you, Blondie. You’re just too…too ornery. Couldn’t keep you in check and quiet in your lifetime, why think death would stop you?”

The younger man smirked. “Kind of like you, huh, Pet?”

“Me? I’m nothing like you…you’re arrogant, self-centered and determined to get your own way.”

Spike grinned broadly and the glint in his eye made her wary. “Like I said, luv, kind of like you. I seem to remember quite a few sparks flaring from you in Sunnydale. I told you I’d never forget what you said to me that night in The Bronze when you were wearing Buffy’s body. Then in the basement…”

Angel interrupted again, his face a mask of confusion. “What…what about Faith in Buffy’s body?”

“Ah…nothing, Angel…it was a long time ago…I don’t remember.” The slayer said quickly as she glowered at Spike.

Spike said no more but looked at Angel and smiled conspiratorially. “Tell ya later, luv…maybe I’ll show you…” He heard a gasp and looked over at Faith, his eyes teasing. “It’s burned into my memory.”

Faith’s face had turned crimson and her glare at Spike intensified.

Angel coughed and stood up and they both looked at him. “You said you were hungry, Faith. Come into the kitchen with me.”

She nodded, rose from her chair and followed Angel. They could hear Spike’s quiet laughter in the other room.

Faith watched Angel as he moved slowly around the kitchen. He looks totally spent. I’ve never seen him look so…tired. “We’ll figure this out, Angel.” She said quietly as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

He nodded but didn’t look at her as he spoke so softly she had to strain to hear. “I…Will…the shanshu is mystical so anything can happen. I told you that Spike’s memories haunted the boy. And…the poison or the fever must have…I don’t know…” he trailed off.

“Yeah, about the memories, Angel…” Faith began but didn’t get to finish.

“We can talk about that later once Spike…Will…” Angel rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’ll go back to bed soon. He tires easily. You can see that his human body is weak. The poison has not left his system. He’s still running a fever, but it’s not as bad as it was yesterday.”

The older vampire turned and handed her a beer and a plate with a sandwich. She was surprised that he had food. A half smile lurked at the corners of his mouth. “A friend…a neighbor who’s a nurse took care of Will initially. She brought some food over…she doesn’t know…that I’m a vampire.”

“How’d you help her, Angel?” Faith asked as she took the plate and the beer and began to walk out of the kitchen.

He looked at her. “Come on, Angel. I know you. You don’t help the Powers The Be any more, but knowing you the way I do, you could never resist a damsel in distress. I know that from personal experience.” She said smiling at him.

A slight smile graced Angel’s face at her words. “Her…she had an abusive husband…I…”

Faith shook her head angrily. “Angel…you think you’ll never atone for Angelus…you have and you do. You helped me even though…even though I tried to kill you. People are drawn to your kindness. Remember Los Angeles? You took in Cordelia, then Wesley, then Gunn and then Fred. They all depended on you. They would have been lost without you. Even that brat of a son…” She trailed off. Every time she thought of Connor and remembered that he imprisoned his father in a coffin under the ocean she wanted to kill him. She felt Angel stiffen slightly and she looked at him. “He’s not my kid…I don’t have to forgive him for what he did to you and I’m not sure I could if he were mine.” She shivered and made a face. “Ugh…motherhood…”

Despite his worry, Angel had to laugh at the look on her face. “No, Faith…I can’t really imagine you changing diapers.”

“So do you hear from him? Connor…”

“Yes, we talk quite often. He’s doing well and is living up in Seattle now. He graduated from Stanford…got a graduate degree in Criminal Justice. You’re not going to believe this, but he runs a PI Agency…called Angel Investigations. We…we can talk more about him later.”

She gave him a look of surprise, then turned and carried her food back into the living room. Spike had returned to his chair. He looked at her, surprise accentuating his sharp cheekbones. “You made the ponce laugh, slayer? I made him laugh a little earlier. Twice in one day. Hasn’t laughed all that much since the damn soul.” He turned his eyes to Angel and his face softened but he said nothing more.

Faith sat on the sofa and began to eat. Angel walked over to the fireplace and stood gazing at the ashes. Spike watched Angel and she watched Spike. This softer Spike was not someone she knew. It was obvious that he was concerned about Angel. A quiet tension lay heavily over the room. Faith finished most of her sandwich and all of the beer. She stood up and walked back into the kitchen. She was gone for several minutes and the two men heard opening and shutting drawers and cabinets. When she returned she carried a tray with more beer, a bottle of wine and glasses. She put the tray on the low table in front of the fire. “How about some wine, Angel? Except, I’ve never mastered a corkscrew.”

“Thought you slayers could do anything. What with the superior strength and all.” Spike said with a grin as he unsprawled his limbs slowly and gracefully and walked over to her, but it was obvious by his hesitant stride that his body was hurting. Angel had turned toward her, a slight smile on his tired face. The younger man quickly uncorked the bottle, poured the deep red liquid into a glass and took it to Angel. When he quietly spoke, there was no trace of Spike’s harsh voice. “Drink this, Angel.”

Angel glanced up at him and a look of such longing passed between them that Faith caught her breath and looked away. When she looked back, Spike had knelt before the fireplace. Flames soon flared between the logs and warmth billowed into the room. He got up slowly, grasping the mantel for support and walked back to his chair. He was determined to both conquer and hide his discomfort. “Want a beer, Blondie?” Faith asked reaching across to offer him a bottle.

Spike nodded, took it and sank back down. Angel sipped his wine and stared into the fire. Faith and Spike watched the older vampire. He looked so tired. Suddenly he turned around. “Faith, you must be exhausted. There’s a small room…must have been a maid’s room…you can use that. I’ll get sheets.” He looked at her, embarrassed. “It’s…I’ve stored boxes…it’s not…it’s messy.”

“Oh right, Angel, you anal retentive sod.” Spike remarked with a shake of his head and a grin. “When have you ever been messy?”

Angel gave him a slight smile and walked across the room through the kitchen and out of sight, obviously into another room. Spike watched him all the way and Faith continued to stare intently at Spike. The younger man, like the vampire he had been, did not often hide his feelings. He was obviously worried about Angel’s doleful behavior.

“Spike.” Faith said quietly.

The young man turned to her, the look of concern gone from his face; his Spike persona back in his insolent glory. “Yeah, slayer?”

“What do you know? Do you know Will?”

“Nah…suddenly I’m here and the ponce is freaked. And I’m pretty freaked havin’ this human body that hurts and findin’ out about the kid.” He stood abruptly and then grabbed the arm of the chair for support. His back was rigid; his face taught with fury as he glared down at her. “Damn Powers That Be. When are they gonna stop fuckin’ with him? He’s suffered enough!” Suddenly embarrassed because he revealed his obvious concern for the vampire he always mocked and taunted, Spike turned quickly and stomped to the fireplace, clutching the mantel to stabilize himself. He cursed quietly.

Faith stared at him and her anger at the Powers grew. Whatever happened, it would hurt Angel. It would increase the guilt that already burdened him. It was obvious that Spike remembered the closeness that had begun to develop between them in L.A. It was also obvious to Faith that Spike loved Angel. But what about Will? If Giles knew he was here…if he disappeared…they’d all blame Angel. Shit! Fuck! NO!

Angel reappeared in the living room and glanced at the slayer and Spike. He felt the increased tension. Faith stood up and smiled at him. “I’m more tired than I thought. Show me the bed, Angel. We’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

He nodded and turned back around. Faith followed him through the kitchen. Angel opened another door and looked at her apologetically. “Here’s the bathroom. No tub, just a shower. But you can use the spa tub next to my bedroom.”

“Nah, big guy. Remember which slayer you’re dealing with. I’m not the girly one!” She grinned at him hoping that her reference to Buffy wouldn’t hurt him.

He smiled and reached for her, hugging her tightly. “No chance I’d forget who you are, Faith.”

He released her. “It was good…thank you for coming.”

She stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “What are friends for, Angel?”

He smiled again and left the room.

Spike was still standing by the fire when he returned to the living room. “Are you tired…do you want…” Angel trailed off as Spike turned from the flames to grin at him. He had spread a quilt and throw pillows onto the floor in front of the fire.

“No…I’m not tired…but you are. You look two hundred years old! Lie down…let me…” Spike looked at Angel shyly despite his bravado. “Remember…remember how I used to massage your tired ass after a hunt…of course when the bitch queen and Drusilla were out of town?” He pushed Angel down onto the blanket, knelt beside him and removed his boots. He hid his grimace. He would not let Angel how much the effort took him.

“Spike…” Angel began, looking wary.

“No…no…fuck Angel…don’t know how long I’ll be here. Don’t…I don’t want to waste whatever time we have…we’ve done that too many times.” Spike looked down at the man who had changed his life…who had made him a monster and broke his unbeating heart more times than he could count…but who became a close companion and taught him pleasures that he never found with anyone else…not even Drusilla or…Buffy.

Angel stared up at the brash younger vampire imprisoned in a frail human body so much like…William’s. He too remembered their times together, although he quickly thrust those intimate memories aside when they came unbidden into his mind and heart. He too had not been able to replace the intense pleasure he had found with Spike.

Spike smirked at Angel as he began to unbutton the blood red silk fabric of the vampire’s shirt. “Ponce.” He whispered and Angel smiled. “Lift up.” He demanded and the larger vampire stared at him for a moment. Angel raised his body and Spike drew off the designer pants, hissing as his hand brushed the black silk boxers beneath. He looked at Angel and found him grinning, although his brow still furrowed with worry.

Angel whispered. “I know…ponce.”

Spike shook his head and bent down to kiss up Angel’s powerful chest. He licked each nipple with his tongue until it hardened. The vampire shivered and his body tensed. “None of that, Angel…be still.” The younger man demanded as he looked into the deep dark eyes that stared up at him. Spike grinned mischievously. “I’m a guest…ain’t I? Hospitality Angel…have to do what the guest wants.”

“Spike…”

Spike stiffened and anger flew across his pale, lovely face. “The alley…came too quick, Angel.” He silently cursed himself as he felt the older vampire begin to tremble. Spike bent down and began to kiss Angel’s cheeks, his nose, his eyes. He whispered. “We didn’t have time to…to see where…to see what we…” Spike stopped speaking and looked intently at Angel. Then he smiled and kissed the larger vampire’s lush, full lips. He slipped his tongue inside and claimed the mouth for his own. Finally.

Angel had allowed Spike to set the pace, but the passion that had burned unquenched for years erupted. He encircled the smaller man tightly with his powerful arms and returned the kiss with fervor. Spike’s human body betrayed him and he groaned. Angel quickly drew back and saw the pained look on his face.

“Hate this…” he said angrily. His damaged body trembled and he whispered, turning his face away from Angel, “Weak…like…William.”

Angel’s chest tightened. He reached for Spike and held him tenderly. “William was not weak. He was gentle and kind.” He brushed his lips against Spike’s face. “Angelus…I was intrigued by your gentleness but knew it would get you staked. I…I couldn’t show you that I…I wanted your softness. Darla…she would have been more jealous than she was. You…you would have suffered even more at her hands. I made you hard. I had to make sure you’d survive as a vampire and then…” He stared at Spike knowingly.

The younger vampire turned his head away and spoke, his tone half bravado, half regret. “And then…then I became Spike…”

Angel placed his large hand on Spike’s chin and gently turned him back. He grinned and his eyes glittered with humor. “And the roller coaster ride began.”

Spike laughed. “Made your life interesting, Angel. Kept you on your toes.”

“That you did, Spike. Although, I was certain Darla would find a way to kill you.”

Spike hissed and Angel immediately looked at him, worry etched on his tired face.

“Used to wish to be human…when…Buffy…but now…this body hurts all over. Damn…damn those Powers…always fuckin’ with us!”

Angel sighed. “I know. After the Mora demon made me mortal, everything hurt. I couldn’t fight…Buffy…if she hadn’t arrived, I would have been dead. Great having a girl rescue you!”

Spike laughed again. “We’re a pair Angel, that little blonde bint did a number on us. Made us…we were like trained dogs followin’ her around…at her beck and call. I hated myself every day when….when we were…” He trailed off.

Angel clasped Spike carefully to him and began to rub his back. He understood. He hated himself too when he was with Buffy. Hated that he was a vampire. Hated that he could not be the man she deserved. He knew the depth of his physical longing and how that terrible need almost destroyed her. He had a lot of hate stored in his heart. He felt despair when he remembered the last year in L.A. Almost all of it wasted. Only at the very end had he been able to admit to himself that he cared deeply for Spike but he never had a chance to tell him. The battle in the alley ended any hope…until now.

“I can hear you brooding, Angel.” Spike said quietly as he tightened his arms around the larger vampire.

Angel chuckled and then tensed. “Spike…I…I just thought…I…I can lick your wounds…maybe it will heal them despite…”

Spike sat up. “You think it works on…on a human body?”

“I don’t know.” Angel answered honestly. “I didn’t even think of it when…when Will was…”

“Yeah…well go on…can’t hurt to try. I hate being this damn achey.” He waggled his eyebrows and grinned. “And I want more than just a back rub from you, Angel.’

Angel felt himself stiffen and Spike smirked sweetly. The larger vampire began to lick each sutured gash encouraged by Spike’s moans of pleasure. The wounds did not heal immediately but the skin seemed less inflamed. Angel began to alternate kisses with licks and both of them hardened. Angel looked up and saw Spike biting his lip.

“Spike? What…a lot of pain?”

A few tears slipped from beneath the younger vampire’s lashes and he opened his eyes and offered a slight smile. “Seem to recall this conversation….More than I’d like…”

Angel’s face tightened and Spike almost snarled. “No…don’t even think about it. I know now. I know…know how much you cared. I…I was too busy being angry at myself for falling for her trap. William the Bloody captured by a slayer!” He shook his head and another flash of hurt raced across his face. Defeated by the pain his human body was experiencing, he laid his body down on the quilt. Angel took him in his arms and kissed the top of his head. “Sleep now, Spike. We’re…we’ve both had a lot to deal with in the past few days. There'll be time…lots of time now that you’re back.” Angel stopped speaking when he heard the soft snore coming from the man in his arms. He cradled Spike tightly to him and fell asleep, comforted by the closeness…ignoring the questions and fears that tried to force their way into his mind. Refusing to think about tomorrow and…Will. After more than a century, Spike was finally in his arms. Spike needed him and he desperately needed Spike.

~Part: 17~

As she woke up the next morning, Faith listened for movement but there was only dead silence in the apartment. She lay in bed for a bit, willing her mind and body to wake and worrying about Angel. She couldn’t quite wrap her mind around what happened. When Angel called to tell her about Will she was intrigued, at first, but that quickly turned into concern. The vampire’s stress was obvious in his voice. It was the same tone that he had used when he talked to her in his mansion all those years ago, when he was trying to convince her to let him help her. She heard it again when he tried to convince her to leave him after she had helped him out of the alley. No one had ever spoken to her like that. She never forgot that calm, slightly tremulous, yet determined voice. It held power but also worry and…and love…the love of friendship from a being who knew the anguish of loneliness. Knowing Angel as she did, she knew he would feel terrible guilt about the boy and what he was going through, because more than a century before he had destroyed the gentle poet William, created the arrogant blonde vampire and taught him to relish murder and mayhem. She knew Angel would try to help no matter what the cost personally.

Now with Spike being back and human, Angel’s guilt at Will’s loss and his desire for Spike to remain in his life would battle each other for dominance. The stress, confusion and pain would devastate Angel. She was worried, pissed off and uncertain how she could help him. None of this bode very well for her friend. If Will was gone permanently, how would his loss be explained to Giles, the coven, and to the kid’s adoptive parents? Giles hated Angel and the former watcher would see to it that the vampire who loved and hurt his precious Buffy was finally destroyed. How would Angel deal with the horrific guilt that the human young man was lost because of what he did or didn’t do?

And Spike. How would the vampire who reveled in being “the big bad” demon deal with being human? It was obvious he hated the weakness of a human body. Even though she had seen his feelings for Angel, would the pull of his old love for Buffy take him away? Would he abandon Angel for the slayer? Buffy had had several relationships, but none lasted. Faith had always wondered why, just as she was surprised every day that she spent twenty-five years with Robin. Was Buffy always looking for what she had with Angel? With Spike? Faith thrust all thoughts about Buffy out of her mind. None of this was about her. Everything was about Angel, Spike and Will.

Even if he remained Spike, she didn’t see Angel letting himself start anything now that Spike wasn’t a vampire. He’d push him away, wanting him to have a normal life as a human being. That was Angel, always thinking of others, never of the cost to himself.

Faith remembered how he was after Spike died twenty-five years ago. It took him years to be able to stay in one place; years of loneliness and recrimination as he traced his long existence as the vicious vampire, Angelus, across Europe and Asia. Only the long delayed interference of that angel, Dominic, enabled him to consider beginning a new life for himself. She had daily thanked whatever gods were actually watching that Jeff Cardiff was as grateful and loyal as he was. The man had helped her friend begin a new life. It was a lonely life, but at least Angel had some satisfaction in sharing his knowledge of art. She smiled to herself. Maybe she would have stayed in school if she had ever had a teacher like Angel. She sighed and shook her head. Not even Angel could have kept her imprisoned in a world of bewildering books, sadistic evil educators and demented dorks.

She quickly turned her mind back to her friend. She talked to him every few months over the years and they emailed each other every week. She smiled again. Angel was much more expressive in emails, obviously because he had been born at a time when letters were the normal form of communication. He revealed much more of his thoughts in those short electronic messages. She knew that he was content in his existence but that he was still keeping everyone at a distance and not forming any sincere, close attachments like he did with Cordy, Doyle, Wesley, and later Gunn and Fred. He had lost all of them and blamed himself. Spike’s loss was the final blow. He was Angel’s family and his death meant not only his physical loss but the loss of a possible relationship that had been slowly developing. Since the devastation in the alley, he allowed himself only peripheral friendships like Cardiff and his daughters, the bookseller and that neighbor who was a nurse.

Groaning a bit at her mind’s exhaustive kaleidoscopic meanderings, Faith got up, washed her face, brushed her teeth and dressed. She walked slowly and quietly out of her room into the kitchen, still a bit groggy from her travel. She peered into the living room and stopped. She held her breath as she gazed at a half naked Angel holding a half naked Spike protectively against him. In his sleep, Spike had flung his slender arm across Angel’s broad chest and nestled his face into the larger vampire’s neck. They looked so peaceful, but she noticed Spike’s almost gaunt upper body. He had always been thin, but his human body looked…emaciated.

She stared in wonder at Angel’s tranquil face; his unfurrowed brow. She couldn't remember Angel ever looking this relaxed and content, except in that photograph where he slept with baby Connor in his arms. Faith closed her eyes and wished that all would turn out well for them, especially for Angel. She ground and her teeth and shouted silently. Do you hear me you damn Powers That Be. He deserves…you owe him peace. He has more than made up for his Angelus days and you know it!

She opened her eyes and furiously blinked away the tears that threatened to spill onto her cheeks. She felt like a peeping tom as she continued to stare at the sleeping figures, half covered with blankets, sprawled together on the floor in front of a now cold fireplace. So lost was she in her voyeurism and thoughts, she didn’t realize that Angel had awakened until she felt his glance. His sheepish brown eyes caught her attention. She looked at him, raised her eyebrow, and gave him a wink, and then a saucy grin. She could have sworn that Angel actually blushed.

Faith started to step forward but Angel stopped her with a slow shake of his head. She stepped back and watched while Angel slowly slipped free of Spike’s embrace. He stood and she saw that he was partially dressed. She wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or sad. Angel bent down and gently picked up the sleeping man who moaned slightly at the movement but didn’t awaken.

“I’ll be right back.” He whispered as he carefully carried Spike into his bedroom.

She heard water running in the sink and after a few minutes, Angel rejoined Faith, walking into the room, buttoning up a clean shirt. He found her in the kitchen making a pot of coffee. She offered him a cup of the steaming brew, but he declined. As she sat down at the table, he went to the refrigerator and took out a carafe of blood. He poured it into a mug and placed it into the microwave, carefully removing it before it pinged. He joined her at the table.

“So…” Faith began after a few minutes of silence.

He shook his head and said softly. “I don’t want to talk about it right now, Faith.”

“Not gonna work, buddy. You know that.”

“I know, but I thought I’d give it a try anyway.” Angel smiled slightly. He knew Faith wouldn’t let it lie.

“Look Angel, I know Spike appearing must have been quite a shock to you. It was to me. I was expecting the meek and mild college student you described, but then he sashayed his ass into the room last night. It was all Spike, no trace of the Will you told me about.” She paused and they both grinned at the image. “And I know you felt guilty about him being killed, but…”

“But what Faith?”

“Do you know what you’re doing here?”

“What I’m doing? I’m trying to help Spike.”

“I know that’s your intention, Angel, but is it really Spike? I mean, he walks like Spike and he talks like Spike, but he’s human. And he was totally someone else before you gave him the medicine. How can he be both? So who is he, Angel?”

“I don’t know.” Angel sighed and dropped his head down. She noticed his fingers tighten around the mug.

“I know you want him to be Spike, but don’t you think you should find out who he is and what’s going on with him first before things get too carried away?”

“Before…carried away…What are you talking about?”

Faith said nothing, just raised her eyebrow at him.

“Oh...you mean what you saw? Nothing happened, Faith…really.”

“Oh, so not what it looked like from where I was standing, Angel. I know how distraught you were all those years ago when he died. I know how…how much you’ve missed Spike…even though you wouldn’t admit it to yourself. I know you have regrets about what wasn’t said and done before it all went down twenty-five years ago.”

“What are you trying to say, Faith? You aren’t normally one to mince your words.”

“Look Angel, I care about you. You are my best friend, and you know I want nothing more than for you to be happy. You deserve to be happy. I just can’t shake the feeling that there’s a possibility here that the Powers or someone else is fucking around with you.”

“We are friends and I care about you too, you know that, Faith. You’re the only one I ever stayed in touch with.”

The warmth in his voice encouraged her and she continued. “So for once in my life, I’m going to be the voice of reason here. Obviously whatever that medicine was that you gave Will, did something too him. For all intents and purposes, he looks to be a reincarnated version of Spike. I know that he shanshued, but what do we really know about the prophecy? We know it said that the vampire with a soul would become human. Well, that seems to be what happened. But is it Spike in a human body, or is it Will with some of the blonde bombshell’s pain-in-the ass personality? And why didn’t Will act like Spike before you gave him that medicine? I don’t know and you don’t either. So I think you need to see that witch fast and find out. Is this permanent or not? You need to find out Angel, before you get hurt.” She stopped finally to take a breath, surprised by her long semi-tirade. “I’m sorry…I…”

Angel smiled and put his hand on hers. “I know, Faith, and I agree with you. But…I just …we both wanted one night…we just wanted to be close…with no regrets. We didn’t have that chance before. We were both too stubborn to find out where anything might lead, neither of us wanting to give an inch. I mean, he could wake up right now and not be Spike.”

“So were there no regrets last night? Did you…?” She stopped and looked away, suddenly shy at her intrusive question. “You…you two looked like a couple of…of cuddle bears there on the floor.”

“No, there are regrets.” He lowered his eyes and spoke. “It…it didn’t go as far as it looked. He’s still too injured.” Angel looked up, slightly embarrassed as he smiled. “Unfortunately. But I promise, I’ll go see Morgana today. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now, will you to tell me what you found out? Was Willow able to learn anything?”

Faith looked at Angel intently, sighed and began to speak. “Well, I found out a bit, but it’s still not a whole hell of a lot.”

“Well, a little is better than what we have now. So tell me.”

“I called Willow right after you told me about Will. I wasn’t sure how I was going to tell her, but I said that you had a student in your class that looked like Spike and that you were trailing him. I told her about the conversation you overheard and that he mentioned Giles. She wanted to know how that was possible, so I reminded her about the Shanshu Prophecy, and apparently since Spike had fought for his soul, it was pretty much up for grabs, and from what you gathered, Spike was the one who received the reward.”

“She didn’t know?”

“Apparently not. Seems Giles is still good at keeping secrets, but how he managed to keep it secret for twenty-five years, I have no idea.”

“So what did Willow say next?”

“She told me that she’d have to get back to me. She was going to check with the local coven and see if they could tell her anything. I stressed to her that she couldn’t go to Giles with this under any circumstances, and she agreed. She was certain she could get information from the coven and extract a promise that they would not tell Giles of her interest. Witches’ bond or something.”

“So I take it since you’re here, she called you back. What did she find out from the coven?”

“Well apparently, twenty-five years ago a member of the coven dreamt that a special child had been abandoned nearby. She found the baby boy and took him back to the coven. The witches found out about the Shanshu Prophecy and who he was. Giles took him and gave him to a childless couple that were friends of his, but he didn’t tell them what he knew about the boy’s mystical rebirth. Giles shielded the adoptive parents and later, the boy, from the truth.

The boy began to have dreams as a child but they intensified as he grew. It wasn’t until he was around twelve that Will questioned who he was. That was all Willow could tell me. According to what she said, Giles wasn’t very happy that Will had decided to come to New York and seek you out.”

Faith watched with dismay as the vampire’s brow creased with worry as his body tensed. She hated adding to his stress.

When she finished speaking, he said nothing but stood and spoke. “I’m going to call Morgana.” He strode purposefully to his desk and punched in the shop’s number on his cell phone. “Hello, Morgana, it’s Angel. I need to talk to you…yes…something’s happened…no, he’s not dead…he’s…I need to talk to you…thank you. I’ll be there in about thirty minutes.” Angel hung up without saying good-bye. “I’ll shower quickly. Hopefully Spike won’t wake up till I get back.”

Faith nodded. “What should I tell him, if he does wake up?”

“Um…just…try to deflect his questions.”

The former slayer nodded again as she inwardly invoked the patron saint of slayers to keep the emotional younger vampire in human form asleep. She didn’t want to have to answer any of his questions and she knew he’d sense that something was up. His penetrating blue eyes were good at discerning trouble of any kind.

Angel ignored the elevators and raced down the twelve flights of steps to the lobby. As he pushed open the heavy door, the wind blew the icy snow into his face. He shivered despite his lack of body temperature. Although the heavy storm clouds blocked any sunlight, he’d take no chances. He stepped back inside and approached the basement stairs. He hurried down the steps and passed the storage areas assigned to each apartment. The old caretaker, Mr. Riley, nodded to him as the vampire pulled up the heavy metal door in the floor and walked down the steps. This was not the first time the professor had traveled through the ancient tunnels beneath the city. Riley had his suspicions, especially since the man never seemed to age, but he asked no questions. The younger man stopped to talk every once in a while and they chatted about Ireland, where Riley had been born. He often gave the caretaker a thick envelope in gratitude that helped take up the slack of his meager pension from the transit system. The professor was a good man. That’s all he needed to know.

Angel raced the short distance through the frigidly damp stone tunnel and came up in the covered alley next to Morgana’s shop. He hurried around to the front of the building, where the soft light from the front window pierced the darkening sky. Angel pulled open the door and walked inside. Morgana walked from behind the heavy curtain. Her face was placid but her eyes showed the alarm that she felt.

“I’ve searched my books and called my mentor…” She stopped briefly at the look on the vampire’s face and then hurried on. “Do not worry, Angel. She will not reveal anything. She is not a member of that coven and…and she knows of you…and…and your dedication. You may not know it, but you are admired and even revered in many places in the occult world.”

“What did you learn?” Angel demanded his voice hard, although the tone was soft. To those who knew him, this was his most dangerous voice.

“Angel, when I first called Cassandra, my mentor, she was puzzled. When she called back, she had found out about the Shanshu. She used powerful magic and an invulnerable ether to keep her search secret. During her search, one of the Sióchain angels visited her and told her about the Shanshu, Will and Spike, although he told her that she must not reveal the truth to anyone. She informed them of your visit to me and they agreed that she could tell me again under deepest secrecy. There had never been a Shanshu before. Nothing had been written except the prophecy. Cassandra had lived for centuries and although she knew of the prophecy, she hadn’t known that it had been achieved. Other members of the supernatural community knew about the events in the alley. They knew that you survived, but Spike did not. The coven created an impenetrable shield to protect the baby. No one knew except the coven, Giles and the Sióchain. Cassandra was shocked. They would not reveal anything except the Shanshu. They told her she must not interfere in destiny and that anything she might do would endanger the boy. Stygian, insidious forces must not be alerted. She did tell me that fortunately no one knew – the remnants of the Senior Partners and their ilk had not learned of Will’s existence. Perhaps, finally, the inviolable powers of good had been able to protect someone so important to the world.”

Angel answered in a cold, incensed tone. “He is not important to the world. He is a young man who has a right to have his human life untainted by anything evil or supernatural. Spike gave his life twice to save the world from the powers of darkness. He is owed more than any of us can repay!”

Morgana had taken a step back at the force of his fury. She stared at the vampire with a soul, who had fought honorably for the powers of good and had been tormented repeatedly. He had lost everyone he loved, although through the intercession of some secret influence, had regained his beloved son and now, apparently, the being who brought love and a measure of tranquility into his tumultuous and solitary life. He had a right to his anger. Cassandra believed that Angel had sacrificed much and earned peace. The old witch had been disheartened at the thought of more anguish for the unique vampire. Unfortunately, it was out of everyone’s hands, mortal or supernatural. It was a matter only for the supreme immortal beings. No one knew if Spike would remain or if Will would return. She had advised Morgana to tell Angel the truth and to assure him that what happened was not the result of the attack, the injuries or the mystical tisane or ointment. Something else was at work here.

Morgana knew that the information would not bring Angel the comfort that she wanted him to have. She had long known his story and like a little girl reading about knights in shining armor, she had fallen under his spell. When she had finally met him, she had been hopeful, then terrified at what happened and now, sadly resigned. She knew from her conversation with Cassandra that Angel’s true soulmate was Spike, not the slayer he once loved. Only Spike could bring peace to Angel’s troubled soul; only Spike could bring him love and joy. The heroic vampire had only begun to realize this truth just before the catastrophic events in the alley.

Morgana motioned him into her tiny apartment behind the shop. When they settled in front of the blazing fire, she told him all that Cassandra had said. He stiffened and his face flushed in fury. By the end, his shoulders had slumped and he sat with his head in his hands. She longed to reach out to comfort him, but knew she would be rebuffed. They sat for a while until he stood suddenly and spoke in a harsh whisper. “I have to return to Spike.”

The witch stood. “Please, let me come with you. I do have a tisane that will hasten the healing of the human body, now that some time has past. I have a potion that will soothe his troubled heart…”

Angel interrupted, his face hard with anger. “No more potions! No more mystical influences. They do nothing but give false hope.”

Again Morgana stepped back from his wrath. Angel’s face softened. “I’m…I’m sorry…it’s…it’s not your fault…it’s just…”

Morgana caught her breath. He was apologizing to her. This was why he was revered by so many. His vampire soul was far above those of most in the immortal world and definitely soared above most of humanity. To her, he had long made amends for the cruelties of Angelus. “Angel, it is medicinal only. It has healing herbs that will help the human body heal. That is all.”

He smiled at her although his dark eyes were sad. “Come. Everyone should meet Spike, at least once. He is a very special vampire.”

After Angel had showered, dressed and left the apartment, Faith listened but heard no sound coming from the bedroom. She went into her tiny bathroom and showered. As she was dressing, she heard footsteps. Dammit! Shit. What the hell do I do now? She knew that Angel could not have returned so quickly. She finished dressing wondering if human Spike still had vampire hearing. She sauntered out into the kitchen and poured another cup of coffee, trying to delay facing Spike as long as she could. She heard him coming toward her.

“Hey, slayer. Where’s the poof?”

She turned and smirked at him. “Good morning, Spike. How are you today?”

He quirked his eyebrow but his eyes weren’t smiling. “What’s up? Where’d he go?”

She sighed. “He went to see that witch…the one who made up that potion…tisane…to find out…” She let the sentence peter out.

“To find out where the hell the kid went?” He said quietly as he hunched his shoulders and turned away.

“To find out what happened, what it means. Shit, Spike…Angel’s a wreck. He doesn’t…is he gonna be blamed because the kid disappeared?”

The vampire in human form spun around, wincing a bit at the harsh movement. “What do you mean?”

“Spike…Will was a human being. Giles and the coven that found him as a baby knew he was here. He had adoptive parents. Angel…they could make trouble for him.”

Spike stared at her, his eyes widening in sudden understanding. “Fuck…they’ll…you mean…they…they’ll think he did something to the kid? That’s bollocks. They have to know Angel wouldn’t hurt a human being. That’s sodding stupid!”

“You and I know that…but…Giles…”

Spike interrupted. “Giles hates Angel…and he hates me!”

She nodded. Faith saw the anger and fear race across Spike’s flushed face. His thin face made his sharp cheekbones razor-edged. She spoke softy trying to calm his increasing emotions. “Want some blood…um…tea?” She finished lamely.

He quirked his eyebrow at her and despite his confusion and anger, grinned at her. “Not sure about me are ya, slayer. Join the club. I’m Spike in here,” he said as he tapped his head, “but in here…,” he said as he thumped his chest, “I’m…my body is human.” He shook his head and slumped into a chair at the table, unsuccessfully stifling a quiet groan. He sat for a moment and then lumbered to his feet, a swift hint of pain rushing across his face. “How…how long ago did he leave…I’ll catch him up…make that witch tell me…us…what’s going on.” He turned to leave the kitchen.

Faith grabbed his arm. “He’ll be back and you can’t go out. It’s still snowing and cold. That human body of yours isn’t well yet.”

He had faced her furiously when she had touched him but suddenly all fight left him. “You’re right.” He stood there, head down and her heart was touched by his dilemma.

“Look, why…go get a shower…get dressed…he’ll be back soon….hopefully with some answers.”

He nodded, turned slowly and left the room. A minute later she heard the shower. After several minutes, Spike, clean and dressed, strolled back into the living room, his light brown curls in damp disarray. He knelt down and rekindled a fire in the large, stone fireplace and the room quickly warmed. He rose and sat on the sofa, staring into the flames. Faith joined him and handed him the cup of tea that she made. “I didn’t add sugar. Do you want some?”

He grinned at her. “Didn’t think you waited on anyone, slayer. Not that domestic as I recall. No thanks, no sugar.”

She returned his grin but quickly answered in an annoyed tone. “I’ve mellowed. I’m forty-fucking six now!”

Spike’s scarred eyebrow shot up. “Fort-six?! Holy shit, Faith.” He looked at her intently. “Don’t look that much different to me, slayer.” He reached out and fondled her long, still dark hair. “Always liked your hair…thick…dark…like…like Drusilla’s.” He smiled at her although it did not reach his eyes.

“Is…do you…know if…” Faith began.

Spike interrupted. “Don’t know…haven’t thought to ask Angel.”

They sat in companionable silence watching the flickering golden flames until they heard the key in the door. Faith stood up. Spike remained where he was, staring into the fire, but his body tensed.

A tall woman shrouded in the folds of a deep green floor-length wool cape, strode casually into the room. Her hands were hidden inside an old-fashioned, green velvet muff. She withdrew her hands and Faith saw long, slender fingers. Angel took her cape and laid it across a near-by chair, never taking his eyes from the back of Spike’s head. The woman’s rich auburn hair cascaded down the back of her black velvet blouse.

“Faith, this is Morgana.”

Faith nodded. “Willow spoke of you.”

Angel glanced at both women and then walked toward the fireplace. He turned and stood in front of Spike, who glanced up at him. “Spike, this is Morgana, who…”

The witch had followed Angel but stopped when she heard Spike’s furious voice. “Who…fucked up the magics and thrust me back into this puny human body.” Spike stood, wavered slightly and turned to glare at the woman who grimaced and took a step back.

“Spike…” Angel said quietly and put a hand on his arm. He frowned when he felt the arm trembling violently. He grasped Spike’s hand, turned him around and pushed him gently back onto the couch as he nodded to Faith who understood. The slayer gently touched Morgana’s arm and the women walked forward. Morgana sat in the rocking chair facing Spike. Angel sat next to him, still holding his hand. Faith stood near the witch, her face hard; her arms folded firmly across her chest. Her dark eyes flickered from Angel to Spike who had turned to look the older vampire.

Morgana began to speak to Spike in a calm, gentle voice. “As I told Angel, I…this…your situation is unique. I’ve…I’ve never had to deal with a shanshued human…vampire. Angel didn’t tell me the whole situation when he came to me, but I wouldn’t have known what changes to make, if any.”

Spike turned to look at her then and the witch hissed and sat back. She glanced quickly at Angel and then back to Spike.

Angel looked at Morgana and then back at Spike, his eyebrow raised in a question.

Spike’s glare intensified and he stood abruptly, releasing Angel’s hand but grasping the edge of the sofa for support. “She fancies you, Angel. You’re such a stupid git, you never notice how women…don’t trust her…” He stopped and breathed deeply, his face stark white. His body’s trembling obvious to all in the room. Angel rushed to him, grabbed him and sat him down. When he looked deeply into Spike’s face, he saw tears threatening in his eyes.

Angel stroked the side of Spike’s face with the backs of his fingers as he stared into his glistening eyes and whispered, smiling tenderly. “Hush…hush…you’re the git, if you think anyone can ever tempt me from you. I have ignored my true feelings for too long because they terrified me and because I never wanted you to suffer because of me.”

Spike leaned into Angel’s hand and they stared at each other; each lost in the other’s eyes; each finally believing the feelings they shared. Morgana and Faith silently turned away from the intimately loving scene between Angel and Spike. Morgana walked into the kitchen and Faith followed. “Would you boil a little water for me?” The witch asked. Faith nodded, filled the kettle and placed it on the gas burner. Within moments, the liquid boiled and Morgana poured the hot liquid into a small cup, stirred in the packet of herbs she carried and added sugar. She turned to Faith. “This is not truly magical. They are normal herbs used in tonics for better health. It will help the human body to heal. That’s all it will do.”

Faith nodded and the two women returned to the living room. Angel still knelt at Spike’s side and their hands were entwined but the human vampire rested his head on the back of the soft fabric of the chair, his eyes closed. He opened his eyes when he heard their footsteps. Angel stood and turned toward them. Morgana and Faith gasped silently at the intensity of emotion they felt emanating from the two men: pain, fear and passion filled their hearts and thoughts.

Morgana spoke softly. “I have brought a medicinal tisane. It is one I give my human clients who have suffered bodily injury. It is for humans and it contains very few mystical properties. It just helps the body’s natural healing powers to escalate, I promise. I would not lie to you. It will make you a little sleepy which means the herbs are working.”

She held out the cup to Angel, who stared intently at her for a long moment and then took it. He turned and glanced at Spike who nodded and took the cup. He sipped it slowly until all of the liquid was gone, never taking his eyes from Angel’s face. The older vampire took the empty cup and handed it to Faith.

Morgana smiled at Spike. “I am very happy to have met you, Spike. I have heard about you for most of my life. You are…you are a special man. I wish you well.”

She nodded to Angel and Spike and turned to leave. Faith helped her with her cape and walked her to the door. When she returned to the living room, Spike had moved to the sofa and Angel was standing and perusing the DVDs. “What do you want to watch, Spike?”

Spike smirked. “Slayer, we’re going to watch a movie…any preferences?”

Although she was startled by the sudden change in Spike’s demeanor, she returned the smirk. “I don’t care as long as it’s not one of those poofy romantic comedies.”

Spike laughed, a wonderful sound. “Okay. How about Raiders of the Lost Ark?

Faith smirked at Spike. “Of course you’d like Indiana Jones. He’s as snarky and arrogant as you are, blondie!”

Spike laughed heartily at her comment and the three friends finally felt the tension of the day dissipate as they settled in to enjoy the film.

~Part: 18~

As the previews for upcoming releases were rolling, Angel got up. “Anyone need anything?”

“Got any popcorn?” Faith asked.

“Uh…no, I don’t think so.” Angel replied, looking chagrined. He rarely kept much human food in the apartment and with everything that had happened, food was the farthest thing from his mind.

“Got any movie-like snacks?”

“No, I don’t. Sorry.” Angel looked from Faith to Spike. They had glanced at each other and were now grinning at him, conspiratorially.

Faith stood up. “Didn’t think so. How about we pause the movie and I run to the store to get some supplies?” Faith suggested. “There is a convenience store near-by, right?”

Angel thought for a minute. “There’s a small market at the end of this street. I’ll go, Faith, it’s still cold and snowy out there.”

“Sod that, Angel, you wouldn’t know what to get. Probably come back with apples or something else healthy.” Spike said, his grin widening at the look on Angel’s face.

“But…” He began and Faith interrupted, “I’m going…I…I need to get a couple things anyway.”

Angel walked over to Faith, pulling out his wallet.

“Put it away, big guy. I got it.”

“Faith…”

“I’ve got it, Angel.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Faith got up and pressed pause on the remote in her hand. “Got any requests Spike? Something you’re especially craving?”

“Nah. Get whatever.” He looked over at Angel and quirked his eyebrow mischievously. “You know what I like from that time in the basement in Sunnyhell.”

Faith glared at him but then laughed. “Okay, be back in a jiffy.” She grabbed her coat and was gone in a flash, leaving nothing but silence in the large apartment.

Angel was staring intently at Spike, questions almost physically racing across his brow, but he would never ask.

Suddenly, Spike’s humor evaporated and the ghosts of past events dragged tension into the room. Neither knew what to say. Angel decided to play it safe and kept it neutral, although his body stiffened slightly. “Sure you’re not hungry? I could order something for delivery.”

Spike noticed Angel’s change in posture but chose not to say anything. He knew he felt vulnerable because of his human body, and the uncertainty of his existence made him edgy. But even more, the tenderness between them opened doors long closed; promised possibilities that might be unfulfilled. Angel had to feel some of the same emotions and, of course, his oppressive guilt made the older vampire’s burden heavier. Angry jibes and fists had long been their norm. They knew how to deal with that. But, this new thing between them, neither knew how to handle it or deal with it.

Spike sighed. “Nah, Angel. I’m fine. Not really that hungry. But…”

“But what?” Angel was startled. Did Spike blush? He never blushed.

“Well,…um…you got any hot chocolate? The…um…the kind with the tiny marshmallows?”

Angel had to bite the inside of his jaw not to laugh and he lowered his head for a minute to compose himself. Spike never liked to be laughed at. Of course, no one really took laughter at their expense well. He looked up and stammered. “Um…not sure, I…I might. Let me check.”

Spike stayed on the couch while Angel went into the kitchen. He could hear him opening and closing the cabinets as he searched for the requested hot chocolate. An aching grief filled his heart as he remembered Joyce. She always had hot chocolate for him once she learned his weakness and they had bonded over their addiction to Passions. He ground his teeth as he remembered Xander’s harsh words after Joyce died. He wouldn’t even let me leave my sodding flowers! An image of Angel coming to Buffy in the cemetery and holding her until dawn flickered into focus, but he quickly pushed the painful memories aside when he heard Angel’s voice.

“Found some. Must be leftover from when Connor was here last. I hope it’s not too stale. It’s been quite a while.”

Spike went to get up, but Angel shook his head. “You stay there, Spike. I’ll make it and bring it to you.”

Exasperated with being treated as an invalid Spike said peevishly, “Bollocks, Angel. I can be up long enough to make some bloody hot chocolate. Body hurts less and I’m feeling much better so you can quit coddling me.”

“I know you are, Spike. Just let me take care of you. Please…”

Spike heard the slight tremor in Angel’s voice and he understood that this was something that Angel wanted to do or maybe felt like he should do, so he decided to allow a bit of pampering.

Old memories suddenly flooded his mind and he remembered being cosseted by Angelus after a particularly brutal beating. The women were away and he couldn’t remember exactly what he did to enrage the older vampire but whatever it was, he paid dearly for it. Angelus had thrashed him with his whip until his entire body was in shreds. He…William, had broken his wrists in his attempts to loosen his bindings, and passed out from the pain. When he opened his eyes, Angelus was there watching over him. He said nothing but held William and bid him feed. Angelus had to wrap his arm around the younger vampire’s neck because every other part of his body was flayed and bloody. Sire blood sped up the healing but it still took several days for him to be able to lie comfortably on his back. Angelus never left his side. He wouldn’t allow minions to touch his horribly battered body. He did everything himself. The older vampire didn’t apologize for his cruelty but he spoke softly to him as he sponged his body and tended his wounds. He read to him and told him stories of his escapades with Darla long before Drusilla and he were born. Spike reveled in the attention and was almost sorry when his body had healed.

Angel and Fred pampered him until he almost longed for his lonely, dank basement apartment after the slayer cut off his hands. Even Wesley and Gunn brought a video system to the penthouse while he recuperated. Although he almost went crazy with inactivity, he didn’t really mind having the poof and Fred fuss over him. The sudden image of Fred pushed a lump into his throat and he fought back to the present.

“Fine. I’ll be lord of the manor and you can be my humble servant. Hot chocolate, Jeeves…please.” Spike grinned as he gave his order.

Returning the grin, Angel bowed and spoke in a truly horrible English accent. “As you wish, sir.” He turned around and went back to the kitchen, Spike’s sputtered laughter following him.

When he returned, he had a fancy china cup and saucer on a pewter tray. When he bent forward toward Spike, he noticed an embroidered linen towel hanging over the larger man’s forearm. He bit back a laugh as he marveled at Angel having such a thing. But then, he was always a poof. Angelus wore velvet, brocade and lace. Whenever possible, they stayed in large, fancy houses richly furnished and…and the sheets were silk. Again, Spike had to yank himself out of his memories since an image of the two of them lying naked in front of a roaring fire hovered at the edge of his thoughts. This damn human body is making me sappy!

“Your hot chocolate, sir. I hope it’s to your liking.”

Spike took the cup and saucer from the tray, and blew on the steaming liquid. He could see the marshmallows melting on the top. “Thank you.”

“Is that all sir? Do you require anything else?” Angel asked, staying in character. Spike was thoroughly enjoying this charade. He had only rarely seen a playful side of Angelus and Angel was generally too shrouded in guilt to relax. Although, one evening during his recovery from the crazed slayer’s attack, he and Fred and Angel had played a board game that the science queen brought over. It was something about murder and various characters, using a variety of implements, could be the possible killer. Angel had used that same horrible British accent and they had laughed and kidded around. Angel’s eyes twinkled and his brow was actually creaseless that night. He and Fred had exchanged happy glances as they watched Angel unwind. Again, the image of their lost friend saddened him.

“No, I’m good.”

Angel bowed and turned to leave, stopping as Spike spoke. “You may stay, Jeeves.”

“Yes, sir, as you wish, sir. I’ll just add some logs to the fire, sir.”

After he had the flames blazing, Angel sat in the rocking chair across from Spike. They watched each other silently as Spike sipped his drink. When he finished, he returned the cup to the tray. Angel stood up and took it back to the kitchen. Ever the anal retentive neat freak. Spike grimaced and his heart hurt. He didn’t see how they could ever live together. Angel would be driven to distraction by Spike’s less than stellar housekeeping regimen. Although…they always had minions to pick up after them…maybe I could suggest a maid. Spike started. He was thinking long term. What about the kid? Faith said Angel could get in trouble. Fuck! Shit! Spike groaned, closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the sofa.

Angel heard the groan and hurried back to the living room. He sat next to Spike and spoke quietly but with obvious concern. “What’s wrong? What hurts? What can I do?”

Spike stayed where he was, keeping his eyes closed. Angel touched his cheek. “Spike, what is it? Please, tell me?”

The younger vampire opened his eyes and looked into Angel’s troubled face. He reached out and traced his fingers along the larger vampire’s jaw and then used his annoyed tone of voice to cut through the emotional tension. “Nothing, just a twinge, stop worryin’, ponce.”

Angel stared at him for a few minutes and then sat back and took Spike’s hand in his larger one. He rubbed his fingers over the back in small circles. Spike sighed and turned to him. He leaned in close to Angel and lightly touched his mouth to the vampire’s. Angel’s lips, that hardly ever smiled and always seemed to be pressed flat in an uncompromising, often disapproving, line, were amazingly soft and supple against his. He brushed his lips gently against Angel’s again while he murmured, “Kiss me back Angel.” Spike feathered kisses along the larger man’s neck and face as he whispered. “Don’t…don’t know how much time we have, Angel…let’s not waste it.”

Maybe if he didn’t hear the pleading in Spike’s words, he would have been able to resist him. Angel knew he should resist him. There was nothing but heartache in the direction where this was heading, but he was powerless to ignore the man draped across his chest. There was something so intimate in Spike’s voice when he quietly murmured his name that he willingly surrendered. Angel wasn’t conscious of his large hands grasping Spike’s narrow hips, nor was he aware of Spike’s arms encircling his neck as he pressed forward in response to his plea. Angel only knew that he needed to be closer; he needed to be a part of Spike, and he wanted Spike to be a part of him, no matter how short their time together or the ramifications.

Angel’s hands tightened on Spike’s hips as the first, devastatingly soft, entangling kiss became a series of gentle, provocative brushes against his closed eyes, nose, and cheeks. Spike’s kisses opened the doors to feelings long held in check. Angel shuddered and felt his body stir from its lonely bonds. Spike ran the tip of his warm tongue along the shell of Angel’s ear, taking a nip of the fleshy lobe. He felt Angel’s body tremble. “Spike…Faith will…”

Slowly, the smaller man moved, swinging one leg across Angel’s lap. He settled down, straddling the surprised vampire. “Faith is gone…gone for a while I suspect. Let me do this, Angel. I need to do this.”

“But you’re still injured, Spike.”

“I feel fine. Bloody hell! Quit your worrying and just go for it.” Spike leaned down and none too gently sucked Angel’s lips into his mouth.

Despite their tender capture, Angel’s lips curved into a tender smile. His hands left Spike’s hips and slipped into the soft curls at the nape of the younger man’s neck. Angel felt the shiver that rolled down Spike’s spine at his touch. He leaned forward slightly to lick Spike’s soft lips with his tongue. This kiss was different. It was hungry. Angel’s demanding lips claimed Spike’s possessively.

Angel gathered Spike closer to him and held him tightly enough that he could feel the pounding heart in his human body. Nothing had prepared Angel for the erotic feelings coursing through him. Feelings that had not been explored before Spike died in the alley twenty-five years ago; feelings that had terrified him and made him reluctant to take a risk. And then it was too late, and he had lost what he had come to desire more than anything else. Now, he felt like he was sinking, caught in a rip tide and being pulled deeper and deeper into the turmoil of uninhibited passion. But it wasn’t only the physical reactions of his body. It was the emotional tumult of knowing that he was finally being held by the man he loved with a fervor he had never experienced. He realized in dazed wonder that Spike felt the same. Spike wanted him; needed him; desired him with the same passionate intensity. Spike’s tongue was wet and warm and welcome. It had been so long since he’d felt warmth, and he reveled in the heat that Spike’s human body was exuding. He knew he was hopelessly lost and knew that he couldn’t…wouldn’t lose Spike again. He’d never survive that loss again. He didn’t want to survive without Spike.

Always more in tune with his own feelings, Spike could feel the shift in Angel’s emotions. He felt the wall that had been built brick by brick over years of fury, disappointment and hurt, crumbling and he smiled. He pressed into the larger body. When Angel’s powerful hands cupped his ass, he was momentarily distracted from what Angel was doing to his mouth and teeth with his tongue. He moaned into Angel’s mouth when he felt large, but gentle fingers massage his nipple. His body was hot and hard, yet it trembled with passion that had been pent up for a century. He started rubbing himself against Angel, and even through the layers of cloth, his movement produced a pleasure he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He continued to curve his body against Angel’s, their hardness obvious; their slow, but determined thrusts against each other making them gasp and writhe, desperate for more satisfying contact.

Spike unbuttoned Angel’s shirt and bent to brush his heated lips up his chest. When he began to lave a nipple, Angel moaned and shuddered. Spike sat up and looked at Angel, his eyes brilliant with excitement.

Faith rode down in the elevator and exited into the lobby of the building. She walked to the door and peered out into the shadowy daylight filled with huge snowflakes. Damn. Down the block. Which way? She was startled by a man’s voice.

“May I help you with something?”

She turned to see an elderly man in work clothes leaning on a mop smiling at her. “Oh, thanks, yes. I’m visiting An…Professor McDonagh. We…he’s not feeling well and I said I’d go to the market for a few things. I’m just not sure whether to go right or left out of the building and I don’t want to make a mistake in this weather.”

“Oh. I’m sorry the professor isn’t well. Is there something I can do? I’ll go to the store for you.”

Faith smiled at the rather frail old man thinking once again of her friend’s effect on people. When people responded positively to him, he was surprised and of course, thought he didn’t deserve their friendship. Angel was kind to everyone until they gave him a reason not to be. I wonder how he helped this man.

“Thanks, but I…I have to get a few things for myself.”

“Ah…of course…turn left out of the building and walk to the end of the block. It’s called the Lumana Market. It’s owned by a family from Nigeria. The word means peace, I think.”

Another word for peace. Lots of words. Not much peace happening. She grinned at him. “Thanks. Can I get you anything? No sense in both of us getting cold and wet.”

The man’s smile broadened and his eyes seemed to glisten. “I can tell you’re the professor’s friend. He’s always helping the people in this building. I’m good; got some supplies in before the storm. Thank you though. Tell the professor I hope he’s feeling better soon.”

Faith nodded. “I’ll tell him.” She opened the heavy glass door and walked down the calcium covered steps. She bent her head and walked straight into the wind. By the time she reached the corner and the welcoming glow from the shop, she was shivering. She pushed open the door and was startled by the old fashioned jangle of a bell. A lovely woman, her head wrapped turban style in a brightly colored fabric, walked from somewhere in the back.

“Good afternoon. What brings you out in this awful weather?” She said as her smile showed several gold teeth.

Faith nodded and smiled. “I need a few things. Can I just browse a bit?”

“Of course. Ring the bell on the counter if you have questions. I’m unpacking a few things in the back.”

Faith picked up a wicker basket and strolled around the tiny store. She picked up a variety of junk food: popcorn, chips, soda, honey roasted peanuts, ice cream, chocolate syrup and whipped cream. She bought a box of Cheerios, oatmeal, milk and orange juice, packets of soup mix and chocolate chip cookies. She added a package of chicken breasts and frozen vegetables to the basket. Spike might be driving, but the body was human and he had to be starving. She threw a few other items into the basket and walked to the counter. The woman was waiting. She packed everything in a woven bag with handles and Faith paid, thanked the woman and left the shop. She crossed the street and walked away from Angel’s building. There must be a bar open near-by, despite the weather. I’ve got to give them more time…whatever they do with it. She grinned at the lurid images that popped into her head. Spike. If his human body was at all healed he’d put moves on Angel no matter his protests. She had never met anyone who oozed sexual energy like the blonde vampire. She pulled her mind away from the salacious pictures and walked on through the cold.

She had never understood how Angel could be celibate for so long. The curse was gone, but he never risked getting involved with a woman. Now she knew why. She had caught the brief looks of longing between them. Damnit! Those PTBs…they owe them both. Angel and Spike saved the world more than once. They both aided Buffy in her battle! And then in the alley in Los Angeles…they both paid a terrible price.

She stopped when she heard music. Hopeful, she looked up. Lights blazed from windows a little ways up the street. She strode toward the building. The sign above the door said McSorley’s. She pushed open the door and entered the old, low-ceilinged room. The rush of frigid are made several people turn to look at her. They quickly returned to their brews when they didn’t recognize her, although their faces were welcoming. Despite the blizzard, the bar was semi-full. Two young men sat on stools in front of the window making the music she heard from the street. One had a guitar, the other a fiddle and the obviously Irish music brightened the bleak weather. She glanced around and saw a table close to the huge fireplace, its warm flames beckoning. She stepped to the long bar, its dark wood surface scarred by years of use, and waited until the bartender drew near. She offered him her sweetest smile.

“Hi. I’d love a beer but I’ve got some groceries in this bag that would melt. Is there anyplace I could put them temporarily?”

“Sure. Go through that door into the kitchen. There’s a huge walk in frig. Just put it on a shelf in there until you’re ready to leave.”

“Thanks.” Faith replied, and the man walked to the other end of the bar when someone called to him. She went into the kitchen and found a young man stirring a huge pot of what smelled like onion soup. She nodded at him. “That’s smells wonderful. What is it?”

“Potato leek soup.”

“I’ll have to order some.” She smiled at him and left the kitchen. She walked to the bar and ordered a pint of Guinness. “That soup he’s making in the back smells wonderful. Do I order it from you?”

“Yes. I tell him to bring it out. Do you want to start a tab?”

Faith nodded, picked up her glass and walked toward the small table she had noticed near the large fireplace. She sat for a while staring into the flames, sipping her beer, going over all that had happened recently, and trying to temper her anger and worry. She’d be no help to Angel if she let her emotions overwhelm her. The young man interrupted her thoughts and placed a large crock of soup and a basket of bread on the table.

She smiled at him. “Could I get a container of this and a loaf of bread to go? A friend was injured in an accident and is recuperating.”

“Aye, I’ll fix it.” He nodded and returned to the kitchen.

She jumped suddenly when the buzz of her phone startled her and she retrieved it from her pocket. She glanced at the number and answered it quickly. It was Robin. She knew she couldn’t talk in public so she rose and walked toward the ladies room, leaving her beer and her meal behind.

“Hey. Everything okay?...yeah…blizzard…no…few more days I think…complicated, Robin. Angel…I can’t go into it now…yeah…a bar…Irish…I’m drinking Guinness…no alone.” She listened for several minutes, her shoulders hunched. “Robin, Angel needs my support right now….no, he didn’t ask me to stay. I just need to be here for a bit…no...no. Look don’t worry, I’ll be back soon.” Again she listened but this time her shoulders relaxed. She smiled and her dark eyes twinkled. “Yeah, sounds good…we both need some sun. Winter’s been too long and too cold…you choose…anywhere there’s a beach.” She laughed. “Thanks, hon you’re a prince…Love you too.”

Faith folded her phone and returned to the table. She tasted the soup and it was perfect. She hadn’t realized that she was that hungry. She buttered the obviously homemade, hard crusted bread and munched happily for a few minutes. The young man from the kitchen came over. “I put your soup and bread on the shelf next to your bag.”

“Thanks very much.” Faith answered. They nodded to each other and he disappeared into the back. She caught the bartender’s eye and he brought over another pint of Guinness.

“This will do it.” She handed him a twenty and he returned to the bar. Another young man brought back her change. Faith finished the soup and her second beer, left a tip and retrieved her bag from the refrigerator. She nodded to the men behind the bar, smiled at the patrons who were staring at her, and walked out into the cold, feeling much warmer.

She retraced her steps to the store and then back to Angel’s apartment building. She rode up in the elevator hoping that she'd given them at least a little private time.

Spike was driving Angel crazy as he traced his warm tongue across his cool skin. Angel grabbed the smaller man’s head and brought it back up level with his gaze. His blue eyes were bright with desire, so bright he felt they might burn a hole right through him. Angel captured his mouth again with his, devouring Spike with his lips and teeth and tongue. He was consumed with Spike’s passion and it ignited his into searing flames. He’d never felt such hunger, such a craving for someone…something. He needed…to be closer to him. To be inside him. He realized with a tremor of shock that he desperately wanted Spike to be inside him. He had never experienced that intimacy. He was always the one who penetrated, always the one who held the power. But now…

Angel didn’t stop Spike when he heard the sound of his zipper. He didn’t stop him when he felt a slender hand slip into the opening of his pants. He didn’t stop the soft hands even when he felt a gentle, but firm, warm grasp surround his aching cock and pull it from the confines of his silk boxers. He gasped at the heated touch and roughly pulled at Spike’s shirt, loosening it from his pants. He knew that if he tried to take it off, the warm hand giving him such painful pleasure would have to release him, and he didn’t want that. Abruptly, he ripped the flimsy material, the tearing sound sharply loud in the quiet apartment. As he pulled it free of Spike’s lithe body, he tossed it carelessly over his shoulder.

Spike pressed against him, his hot flesh warming the vampire’s naturally cool skin. Angel cried out suddenly when the man, already giving him such sensual pleasure, attacked his neck, nibbling his way purposefully up and down the long column. Angel held his head still, afraid that Spike would stop; afraid it would be over before the craving was satisfied.

Spike suckled at Angel’s neck, laving the soft skin with his tongue, nipping the cool flesh gently with his teeth. He couldn’t get enough. Angel was like a drug on which he’d happily overdose. He would never get enough of the vampire. His passion would never be sated. He licked his way down Angel’s body, leaving a trail of saliva on marble skin, biting at his broad shoulder before settling and closing his mouth on his nipple. As he continued his arousing ministrations on the pert nub, he stroked Angel’s flushed, hardened cock, occasionally swiping his thumb across the tip and feeling it quiver within his grasp.

Angel’s body rose involuntarily when he felt Spike’s finger brush across the top of his cock and then return to fisting the column that quivered eagerly at his touch. Angel’s large body moved with the rhythm of Spike’s strokes, as quiet, whispered moans escaped his mouth. Spike released the hard flesh and he smiled at the slightly petulant moan. He returned his attention to kissing Angel. He was eager to please the larger man as well as himself…please him for the rest of the time they had together, repercussions be damned. He felt shivery, quivery all over as he searched the inside of Angel’s mouth with his tongue, finding rich textures and sensuous tastes, and discovering secrets only a lover would know.

Angel liked it when Spike nibbled on his upper lip. Or sucked his lower lip into his mouth. Or traced the inside of his upper lip with his tongue. He liked it a lot and when he could think again, he reached his hand to the front of Spike’s pants and quickly released him, taking his hard, hot cock into his cool hand. The temperature difference was startling. As Angel began to slowly, and then more quickly, stroke his cock, Spike moaned into his mouth, pressing closer; crushing his body and his mouth tightly against Angel’s. They were both impatient. They both wanted more. They both wanted everything at once.

The two bodies were jarred to their senses by the insistent buzzing of the doorbell. Startled, they drew away from each other, confusion obvious on their faces. They blinked when they realized what it was. They were both frustrated and disappointed by the interruption. Grinding his teeth and shaking his head in annoyance, Spike reluctantly climbed off Angel. He resituated himself on the sofa as Angel got up and walked to the door, zipping up his pants and buttoning his shirt. He saw the torn remnants of Spike’s shirt on the floor, and took a detour into his room. He grabbed a shirt and tossed it to Spike as he continued his trek to the door.

The doorbell buzzed one more time before Angel opened the door. He nodded in greeting and reached for her bags and she noticed his slightly chagrined expression. She smiled at him, and then glanced at Spike who was buttoning up a shirt that he wasn’t wearing when she left. She looked sheepishly at her friend, and mouthed ‘Sorry,’ before she spoke. “Got non-wholesome snacks for our movie watching. Oh, found a pub down a block or so. Great Guinness and terrific soup. Good music too, Irish.”

“A pub? Hey, slayer. Why didn’t you come back for me?” Spike said in a slightly annoyed tone from the sofa.

“Too cold for you, Spike. Can’t have you getting sick on top of those other injuries. Brought you some Irish potato and leek soup and homemade bread. We’ll go out as soon as you’re feeling better and this frigid weather warms up a bit.” Faith answered as she walked toward him. She pulled out a bag of chips and tossed it to him. “I’ll make the popcorn. Got some ice cream, fudge sauce and whipped cream too.”

“Ice cream? It’s freezing. How can you eat ice cream?” Angel asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I can eat ice cream anytime and I know blondie likes it too, don’t ya?” Faith replied winking at Spike.

He grinned at her and Angel looked from one to the other slightly annoyed and confused.

“Hey Angel, you got a dirty mind?” He waggled his eyebrows and smirked at the older vampire. “It’s not what you’re thinkin’ but we can try it if you want.”

“I…I wasn’t…” Angel finished lamely as Faith and Spike laughed. He realized that nothing he could say would get him out of the hole he had dug for himself. “Um…what do you want to drink?” He said over his shoulder as he walked quickly toward the kitchen.

“Beer,” Spike replied with a grin.

Angel was putting a bottle of wine, several bottles of beer, soda and glasses on a tray. He turned and smiled weakly at Faith. She returned his smile and touched his arm. “They had ice cream sundaes one night for the birthday of one of the potentials. Spike stayed in the basement most of the time and I hid out quite often with him to get away from the constant din of teenage girls. Dawn brought down sundaes for Spike and me. We tried to be cool and act disinterested, but neither of us could resist and gorged ourselves like five year olds.”

He nodded and carried the tray into the living room, willing his burgeoning erection to subside. He would never admit the tantalizingly erotic thoughts that had suddenly filled his mind about licking whipped cream off Spike’s body.

Angel wouldn’t look at Spike. He set the tray down and sat down in the rocking chair, not on the sofa. Faith strolled in with the bowl of popcorn, sat next to Spike and they began to watch the film. After about an hour, during a lull in the action, Spike got a mischievous glint in his eye and tossed a handful of popcorn over Faith. She sputtered and immediately retaliated. Angel watched in horrified fascination as his living room became a war zone filled with a barrage of fluffy white popcorn, although Spike’s laughter was a boon. Part of him wished he could just release as they did but he couldn’t.

Suddenly Spike swiveled to face Angel. With an impish grin, the blonde menace that was the Spike of old winked at the larger vampire and tossed a handful of popcorn at him. Angel startled. He opened his mouth to speak and a fluffy kernel flew in. He sputtered and coughed. Faith hurried over to pat him on the back although it was difficult because she was laughing so hard. Spike’s pale face was flushed and his eyes twinkled merrily. Angel lowered his head as Faith pounded his back. She stopped when she realized Angel’s shoulders were shaking.

Spike’s smile vanished and he spoke softly. “Angel?”

Angel slowly lifted his head and the most wonderful grin brightened his usually somber face. One never knew how Angelus would react to anything and that had not changed when his soul was forcibly returned. Spike sighed and collapsed on the sofa breathing heavily, his face glistening with perspiration. After a few gulped breaths, he opened his eyes and tried to smile but couldn’t quite achieve it. He spoke softly with obvious effort although his eyes still danced with humor. “Made you smile, ponce. That…that…was fun…damn weak-assed human body!”

Angel had jumped up and came over to him, concern etched deeply on his face. “Spike…”

“Sod it. No…no fussin’ Angel…give me a minute.” He whispered and closed his eyes again.

Faith raced into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of water and a basin and cloth to bathe Spike’s flushed face. Angel took the basin and hovered over Spike, dabbing the cloth on his face. “It’s okay, ponce…I’m okay.”

“Rest a minute. Stay quiet will you?” Angel demanded quietly.

Spike opened his eyes and smiled at the worried vampire. “We’re missin’ the movie.”

“Lie on the sofa and watch.” Angel demanded as he lifted Spike and pushed pillows beneath his head. Spike grinned up at him but it was obvious that he was tired. They watched the rest of the film, although Angel glanced back and forth from the younger man and the television. “You’re gonna get whiplash, Angel. I’m okay. Just forgot that I wasn’t still an invincible vampire like you.”

By the end of the movie, Spike’s color and breathing were back to normal. As the ending credits were scrolling, Faith got up and went into the kitchen. She was gone for a few minutes and came back with a tray laden with three bowls of ice cream, topped with chocolate syrup and whipped cream. She figured it might be safer to leave the can in the kitchen.

Spike grinned, not his usual snarky smirk but a childlike smile when he spied the sundaes. Faith and Spike dove into the sweet concoction while Angel spooned small bites into his mouth. He didn’t really want the sundae but he didn’t want to hurt Faith’s feelings and he wanted to feel the camaraderie that Spike and the slayer seemed to have. He had to admit that he felt a few jabs of jealousy at their ease with one another. Faith spoke a bit about her life in Cleveland and with Robin and the young slayers that lived with them.

“Can’t see you bein’ domestic, slayer.” Spike said between mouthfuls. “Can’t believe you’re still with the principal either.”

They were silent for a moment and Angel knew they were remembering Robin’s attempt, with Giles’ blessing, to kill Spike. Faith had told him about it before they arrived at her house after she rescued him from the alley. He and Robin gave each other a wide berth during the month that Angel stayed with them. Angel was civil and Robin made polite attempts but there was a distinct frost whenever they were together. Angel had been glad to find his own place.

“Me neither, Spike. I’m surprised everyday.” She jumped when her cell phone buzzed and stood up. “I’ll go into my room.”

Angel stood when she left and put the bowls on the tray and walked into the kitchen. When he came back, Spike had his eyes closed and was leaning against the back of the sofa. His body was stiff with tension. Spike was more tired and hurting than he would admit. Angel drew close to the sofa. “Hey, how about a bath and then I can put some more of that ointment on your cuts.”

Spike’s eyes flicked open quickly. He loved the few times that Angelus bathed him long ago. He grinned and nodded. “Can’t wait to get me alone, hey Angel?” He quirked his scarred eyebrow and spoke softly. “I’m all yours.” He struggled a bit to get out of the deep cushions of the couch, and Angel grabbed his hand. “Dammit, I can get up. How many times do I gotta tell ya that I’m not a sodding invalid!”

Angel ignored Spike’s protest and pulled him up, holding him tightly to his chest for a moment as he kissed the soft curls on his head and spoke. “I want to take care of you, Spike. You did the same for me long ago, remember? I’ve never forgotten.”

The vampires embraced for a few minutes, each drawn back into their shared past. Darla had beaten Angelus badly for some stupid reason and then left in an angry huff to visit the Master, dragging Drusilla with her. William was still a fledgling vampire and was disconcerted when Angelus didn’t appear. He had dared to knock on the bedroom door the two vampires generally shared, and heard a soft moan. Forgetting his usual terror, he opened the door. He peered through the flickering candlelight and saw the older vampire lying on his stomach. His back was bloody from a whip’s lashes. William had cared for Angelus until he was healed enough to get up.

Despite the frequent later beatings at the larger vampire’s hands for various infractions, if Darla was gone from the house, Angelus often fed him Sire’s blood and tended his wounds. Spike frequently thought of that tenderness after Angelus had left them.

Angel and Spike walked into the vampire’s large bedroom. Spike lay down heavily on the bed. “Let me tell Faith.” Angel said and left the room. He was back a few minutes later, Faith at his side.

“Good night Blondie, you’ll feel better in the morning.” She glanced at Angel and grinned. “We’ll think of something tomorrow to make him laugh, Spike.”

Spike winked at her. “Yeah…it’s what I live for, making my sober Sire smile!”

The slayer shook her head; her heart both happy and worried for the two vampires, said good night and left them alone. Angel pulled Spike up from the bed and they walked to the bathroom. The younger man sat at the edge of the tub while Angel turned on the taps. When he poured in some vanilla bubble bath, Spike sputtered and laughed.

“You are a ponce! Bloody bubble bath?”

Angel ignored pretended to ignore him but his mouth twitched. “Bought it for my granddaughter.”

“What?! Granddaughter? What are you talkin’ about?”

Angel continued to fuss with the water as he spoke. “Remember, Connor is mostly human. He married and had a baby girl and a son. He came to visit last year. Her name is Fiona and she’s twenty. His son’s name is Ryan. He’s seventeen and will graduate from high school this spring.”

The vampire stood and turned. He smiled at the incredulous look on Spike’s face. “I forgot about him…grandchildren? Huh!”

“Yes. He lives in Seattle and runs a detective agency called, ironically, Angel Investigations. Fiona goes to the University of Washington. She’s studying Literature. Ryan is an artist. He draws comics…um, graphic novels.”

Spike heard the note of pride in Angel’s voice when he spoke of his family. Spike felt a little stab of jealousy and sadness. He’d never experience having children. He’d leave no legacy in the world.

Angel saw the emotion flit across Spike’s pale face. He grasped the younger man’s chin and stared lovingly into his glistening blue eyes. “You’re my childe, Spike, and I am proud of you. No other vampire sought his soul. No other vampire unselfishly chose to die to save the world – twice!”

Angel stood next to the tub. “Come on, the water’s just right. And I don’t want to hear anything about the bubbles. I know you used the ones that I had when you were recuperating in the penthouse.”

Spike mumbled something and took off his clothes. He was glad that Angel didn’t offer to help. He climbed into the warm water, sank up to his neck under the bubbles and sighed deeply as he soaked, allowing the pulsing jets to work their magic and soothe his still sore human body. Angel sat on a small bench near the tub, and tried not to stare.

~Part: 19~

Angel stood suddenly and walked to the door.

“Angel?”

The vampire turned and spoke quietly. “I’ll be in the other room getting ready for bed. You take my room and I’ll sleep on the couch. You need your rest.” He smiled tenderly at Spike lounging in the warm water and silky bubbles. “Call out if you need anything.” Then he was gone, closing the door and leaving Spike alone in the steam fogged room.

“I need you.” Spike whispered, his eyes sadly riveted on the closed door.

As he shut the door behind him, Angel sagged against it, his eyes closed as he tried to will away the painful hardness in his groin, to no avail. Sighing, he went to his dresser and pulled out a pair of silk lounging pants. He removed his trousers and tossed them into the hamper next to his dresser. He stood there, firmly rooted, his erotic thoughts battling with concern for the injured human body that Spike inhabited and the uncertainty of when and if Will would return. God! I want him...I’ve wanted him for so long…but is he here permanently? Do I have the right? Do I dare take what I want…for once? Is Will lost? Will he return? Will I lose Spike…again? How can I bear another loss?

Sighing again, and trying to control his anguished thoughts and emotions, he proceeded to unbutton his shirt slowly. He knew he should hurry and leave the bedroom before Spike was finished with his bath, but he couldn’t…or rather, he really didn’t want to. I want another glimpse of him…his body…

He heard the door slowly open and he turned around. Spike loomed in the doorway, steam escaping and surrounding him as he stood there with a towel around his waist. Spike took a step forward. Angel took a step back.

“Spike…”

Spike walked toward Angel, his captivating blue eyes blazing with determination. “No. We’re not stopping. We’re gonna continue what we started earlier. We owe ourselves that. The sodding Powers owe us that. I want you and I know you want me. You’re not gonna logic us out of it, Angel.”

Spike stopped speaking and stood firmly in front of the larger man, gazing at him with those devastatingly beautiful eyes. His pale skin was flushed from the heat of the bath and tendrils of hair wreathed his cheeks. Angel stared at the man who had haunted his dreams for centuries. He raised his arm and tentatively drew the back of his hand across the sharp planes of Spike’s thin face. His long fingers sifted through his damp curls, brushing them back from his forehead in what was almost a caress.

“I like it like this…your hair. It’s soft and sleek.”

When Angel’s hand slid gently into his hair, Spike felt tingles down his spine. He closed his eyes briefly and held his breath as Angel continued to thread his fingers through the still moist locks. He was hard just with Angel’s touch. When he opened his eyes and realized that Angel was wearing nothing but his silk boxers and his partially unbuttoned shirt, the intimacy of their closeness intensified. The shirt hung on him like a second skin, curving along the rippled muscles of his chest; the ends hanging just below his groin.

Spike captured the long shirt points with his hands and tugged Angel closer to him. “One of us is wearing way too many clothes, and it isn’t me.”

He leered at Angel as one slender hand slipped down between their bodies. Without looking down, his fingers undid a button. He drew closer and walked Angel backward. Their eyes remained focused intently on each other, although by the time they reached the side of the bed, Spike had all of the remaining buttons undone.

When Angel felt the edge of the bed against the back of his knees, he sat down. Spike leaned forward and placed his palms flat on either side of Angel on the mattress. He lowered his head and nudged the shirt aside with his nose, then latched on to Angel’s nipple, swirling his tongue around the nub. Angel hissed, grabbed Spike’s head and held him where he was. As Spike bumped against him, Angel slid backwards. Spike straightened out his legs and laid his body over Angel, gently shoving the larger man’s legs apart with his knees. He pressed himself against Angel with only the half open shirt and the filmy silk boxers between them.

They stared at each other for a moment; brown eyes and blue filled with lust and loving desire. Without thought, Angel rolled them carefully, grabbing and removing the towel as he turned them so that Spike now lay underneath him, although he leaned heavily on his arms to alleviate some of his weight from the smaller man. Spike’s body arched up towards Angel’s and moments later he wrapped his legs around the vampire’s waist.

Angel sucked on the flesh at Spike’s neck, sending a frisson of feeling scattering across the younger man’s shoulders. He licked slowly across Spike’s chin, and kissed his nose, eyes, and cheeks before finally finding his soft, supple lips. Spike groaned and Angel swept his tongue into his mouth. Angel knew Spike wanted this; knew that he needed this. Angel ignored the reasonable part of his mind that began to list all the reasons to stop now. He needed this; he wanted this. He had wanted this for twenty-five years.

Spike loved the weight of Angel on top of him; the feel of his hard body against his, and his tongue laving the inside of his mouth, mimicking the natural thrust of his hips.

“Spike, Spike,” Angel murmured. “I can’t stop,” he said as his lips nibbled hungrily at the younger man’s voluptuous mouth while his hands roved voraciously over his body. “I don’t want to stop.”

“Angel,” Spike murmured. “Love me. Love me, please.”

Relentless as ever, Spike didn’t give him a choice. Not that Angel could make another choice. His will was gone. Spike’s mouth sought his and when their tongues met, Angel was lost in a fog of sexual pleasure that he had no wish to escape.

Angel kissed Spike back with every fiber of his being. His heart and soul were filled with such intense longing, that his body thrummed with desire. He caressed Spike tenderly, barely containing his passion. He couldn’t get enough of him. His fingers tingled as they explored the soft, warm contours of the body whose gentle, pulsing heartbeat drove him wild. Angel briefly rested his head on Spike’s chest to revel in the quiet ticks as he breathed in the spicy scent of his skin.

He felt Spike’s hand slip beneath the collar of his shirt and rest against his neck. Angel quickly got up on his knees and drew Spike into a sitting position. Spike pushed the shirt from Angel’s broad shoulders and leaned in to lick up his chest as he pulled the boxers down by the hem, releasing the larger man’s magnificent cock. Angel’s eyes closed as he enjoyed the caresses of Spike’s tongue. He felt the silky material slide past his hips and shivered slightly as the cool air flowed across his groin. He opened his eyes and saw the blonde’s fevered glance and cheeky grin. Placing a hand on Spike’s shoulder for balance, he lifted one leg and then the other and the flimsy material slipped from his body. Angel trembled at his gentle, sensuous touch and stared into Spike’s passion-filled eyes. He knew the question he should ask, but was afraid of the answer in spite of Spike’s current provocative actions.

When he hesitated, Spike knew the question that Angel was afraid to ask. As he stared into larger man’s dark brown eyes, luminous with lust and love, Spike traced his hands up his powerful thighs. Wanting to relieve the vampire’s obvious doubt, he answered the unspoken questions, “I’ve never been surer of anything. I need you, Angel. I need to feel you inside of me. It’s been too long.”

Angel gasped at the desire in Spike’s eyes. “God, Spike. I…I’ve…my dreams have been haunted by thoughts of…us…together. I’ve never needed someone as much as I need you.”

Spike clasped Angel’s hand and drew him down. “Am I too heavy? Am I hurting you?” Angel asked worriedly. Spike’s body was human; far more fragile than a vampire’s.

In answer, Spike pressed his body more tightly to Angel’s and thrust his tongue deep into his mouth, biting on his lip as he withdrew. He smirked. “Got your answer, ponce? Even this weak assed body is strong when the stakes are high. Have at it!”

He rose up and drew away from Spike, smiling at the look on the younger man’s face as he moved to the end of the bed. He lay down and began to kiss Spike’s feet, as his hand gently kneaded his sack. Angel sucked on his toes and brushed his tongue up his thin, muscular legs. He licked and nibbled his thigh and buried his face in the nest of brown wiry curls. Despite his currently human body, echoes of Spike’s unique scent lurked beneath the skin. Spike was thrashing about and Angel learned something about him that he had forgotten. Spike was a very vocal lover.

Not that he minded the sighs of pleasure or the groans of agonizing delight or his cries of “do that again,” or “more, please, Angel.” He was worried momentarily about waking Faith, but he was enjoying Spike’s rapturous pleasure too much and he wasn’t about to tell him to be quieter.

When he took Spike’s cock into his mouth, the younger man stiffened in surprise and whimpered. “Angel…oh God…Angel.”

Angel had never done this before. It was always about Angelus’ pleasure; his release. Spike’s enjoyment was never the issue. “Please…Angel…please…I need to feel you…damnit…Angel…fuck me!”

Angel grinned at Spike’s demands. He would have never said this to Angelus. But, he was concerned. He didn’t want to hurt him. The last time they had been together was right before he got his soul back. Spike was a vampire then, and he…Angelus, was a sick, torturing bastard.

Suddenly he stopped his ministrations, his eyes wide. Spike opened his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Spike, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. May not be a vampire any more, but I got all the same parts. Quit your worrying.” Spike gave him a reassuring smile and, just for good measure, a small thrust upwards so that his hard shaft grazed against Angel’s body. “So reach into the drawer over there.” Spike pointed to the table next to be bed. “And pull out the bottle I just know you have hidden in there.”

Angel threw a shocked look at Spike. “But…how…”

“Come on Angel. It’s me. Can’t tell me you haven’t jerked yourself off in the last twenty-five years. Come on. Admit it, ponce.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Angel was speechless, and a bit embarrassed. But he leaned across Spike, and reached with his long arm to pull out the bottle that was in the drawer.

“So tell me, what images did you conjure up in that brain of yours?” Spike asked, his full lips smirking as he winked up at Angel.

Embarrassed again, the vampire said nothing.

“Angel, it’s me. Tell me.” Spike’s eyes twinkled and he smiled at Angel’s embarrassment.

“Um…you…us…what…what could have been, but never was.”

Spike’s face softened at Angel’s quiet words. Touched by Angel’s wistful thoughts, and once again silently cursing them both for their past stubbornness, he sat up and crawled to the middle of the bed where Angel was on his knees. “Well, it’s us now, Angel. No more fantasies.” He reached up and brushed Angel’s lower lip with his thumb. His blue eyes held Angel’s brown ones as his mouth replaced his thumb with unabated hunger. “Too much talking.” He murmured against Angel’s lips and slipped his tongue inside the larger man’s mouth. He slowly savored every inch of the silken interior, exploring, coaxing.

Angel carefully changed his position so that he was no longer on his knees, but was now sitting in the middle of the large bed, his legs stretched in front of him. Spike crawled on top of him, never breaking his hold on Angel’s mouth as he settled onto his lap. His hands slid to Angel’s hips, his fingers tightening as he pulled the larger body against him, pinning the vampire’s hardness against his own slender frame.

Spike took the bottle from Angel’s grip and popped the lid. He squeezed it and emptied some of the silky contents into Angel’s waiting palm. He threw the bottle onto the bed, and directed Angel’s large hand between their bodies. He molded the vampire’s hand around their cocks. It was large enough to fit around both of them. He rested his hand on Angel’s and they began a slow, steady stroking motion. Spike unfurled his legs and wrapped them behind Angel’s body until his heels were pressed against Angel’s sculpted ass. His hands ran along Angel’s broad shoulders and down his muscled arms. He gently slipped one of his hands between their bodies and brushed across a nipple, while the other settled on Angel’s hip.

Spike broke the kiss, panting harshly. “Inside Angel…I need to feel you inside of me.”

Angel released his hold on their cocks, and reached around Spike’s body with a long arm. Starting at the top, he ran a slippery finger from the top of the crease downward until he found it. His finger hovered there at the opening, barely touching it, but feeling it quiver in anticipation. Slowly he pushed the digit in, feeling the resistance lessen and give way to his gentle intrusion. Spike sighed as he felt the finger enter and tried to get closer to Angel, although their bodies were already meshed tightly together. He dropped his head down and lightly nipped at Angel’s shoulder as the vampire pushed his long finger deeper inside his ass. He winced a bit, but continued to encourage the vampire in between nips and kisses to the cool skin.

Angel held still for a moment, and then began to pump his slicked finger in and out of Spike’s incredibly tight channel. He added a second finger, pausing as he felt Spike’s body tense. When he felt him relax again, Angel started moving his fingers again, rotating them, and stretching Spike. Every now and then he’d hit the small, spongy mass hidden there and Spike would moan in ecstasy.

When Angel touched his sweet spot, Spike captured the vampire’s lips with his. He thrust his tongue deeply into Angel’s mouth and then leaned back, drawing the larger man with him. The vampire followed him down willingly, blanketing Spike’s body with his own. His huge hand tenderly caressed Spike’s alabaster skin, tracing the hard planes of his lean body. His mouth found Spike’s eyes, his temple, the corner of his mouth, his throat. Each kiss was feather light, but left a burning brand, his imprint on Spike’s heart and soul.

Spike felt Angel’s hunger; his desire burning uncontrolled beneath his cool skin. His body responded to the urgency of the vampire’s need. He moved beneath Angel, arched upward. His eyes closed tightly, and he moaned aloud as Angel took his nipple into his cool mouth. His arms encircled Angel’s head; held him as every pull of his mouth produced a rush of answering liquid heat from his body.

Angel lifted himself slightly, just enough so that his eyes could caress Spike’s body. He lay naked, his skin flushed with passionate desire, his chest heaving for air. Angel’s hand spanned Spike’s flat stomach. He reached for the bottle that had been tossed carelessly on the bed earlier. He poured more into his hand. His slick finger probed Spike’s entrance again, finding heat; understanding the need that was just for him. He could feel hot tears of love and gratitude burning behind his eyes.

His fingers moved deeper, a deliberate enticement. He felt hot velvet muscles clench around him. Angel’s body was raging for release.

“Are you sure?” There was a catch in his husky voice. His hand pushed against Spike, his fingers probing, exploring; deliberately feeding the fire spreading through Spike’s body.

“Yes.” Spike’s tongue stroked over Angel’s muscles, a soft caress. His teeth nipped Angel’s skin, teasingly.

Angel’s hands explored Spike’s thighs; the secret shadows and hollows of his body as he writhed helplessly and emitted breathless, mewling cries from his throat. Spike’s hands found the roped muscles in Angel’s broad back, his touch further enflaming the vampire. Angel memorized every inch of Spike with his gentle fingers.

Angel was doing things to him with his hands, with his touch alone that dragged Spike willingly into a firestorm of salacious hunger impossible to sate. Spike responded and kissed Angel’s chest, swirling his tongue around his stiffening nipple. Angel’s body hardened until he thought he’d go mad. He forced Spike’s legs apart, giving him better access. He brought each of the smaller man’s legs up over his shoulders and pushed against Spike aggressively, needing him desperately.

Spike felt him, hard and thick, insisting on entrance. Excited in his anticipation, his mouth moved of its own accord over Angel’s chest. His tongue stroked, caressed and sucked at the cool, pale skin. Angel’s hands tightened on Spike’s lean hips nearly to the point of pain. When he felt Spike’s bite, his body surged forward uncontrollably to bury itself into the man he had wanted for so long.

Spike cried out with pain and pleasure. His shout, hoarse and triumphant, mingled with Angel’s. Angel moved, nearly unable to bear the heat as Spike’s channel clenched him tightly; so seductively hot and addictive that he wanted to lose himself forever in him. The fiery friction consumed him until he was riding a crest so high with carnal pleasure that he lost all concept of time and space. Color danced behind his eyes, vivid and bright. Their scents, musky and fragrant, mingled, a perfume created from their lovemaking.

Spike’s mouth roamed over him, erotic and frantic, matching the wild frenzy of his body. Angel lost himself in pure feeling, burying himself deeper and harder, wanting to crawl so far inside Spike that their very souls would be entwined, impossible to separate.

Spike clutched desperately at Angel’s back, trying to hang on; feeling like he was being swept away for all time. Angel’s hands were hard on his hips, holding him still for his invasion. It was almost more than he could bear; the untamed animal look of Angel with his eyes changing from brown to gold, and back to brown again. Angel’s face was taut with blissful pleasure. Spike kneaded his hands down the vampire’s broad back and over his ass, tenderly mapping every inch of his massive, beautiful body.

A moan escaped Angel’s throat, deep and husky; the sound dredged from the depths of his soul. He lifted his head, his eyes molten gold, hot and fierce with hunger. He kissed Spike’s eyes, the corners of his mouth, his chin. Spike felt Angel’s mouth hover over his throat, the stroke of his tongue, a caress. Spike’s body clenched and then shuddered in reaction, heightening Angel’s pleasure, until he thought he might disintegrate into fiery ash with its passionate heat.

Angel’s fangs scraped the sensitive skin on Spike’s neck and the smaller man ached and arched into him, pushing against his mouth.

“Do it Angel…please…” Spike demanded with desperate sexual need as he exposed more of the slender column. He cried out in pleasure, his throat working convulsively as Angel’s fangs pierced his skin. Angel’s arms tightened possessively and his body took Spike’s with a ferocious hunger beyond his wildest imagination or memory.

Wave after wave of pleasure swept through Spike, hurling him out of himself and into Angel. Angel was everywhere he turned, everywhere he touched, inside his body, inside his mind, his very blood was Angel’s, until they seemed one being exploding upward into an ethereal realm of quixotic sensual satisfaction.

They lay together, clinging to one another. Spike’s heart pounded as if it would burst from the confines of his fragile chest. Angel framed Spike’s face with his hands, brushed his mouth gently, tenderly, across his forehead, and feathered kisses down Spike’s face to his chin. For the first time in his long, seemingly endless existence, Angel felt truly alive, truly at peace.

Spike stared up at Angel in wonder, refusing to return to the bonds of earth. Angel was still inside him; his body was wrapped possessively around Angel’s. It seemed impossible that those gentle brown eyes could shine with such intensity, burn with such need, only for him. A slow smile curved Spike’s mouth and lit up his blue eyes to match the glow in Angel’s. They simply stared at each other, lost in love so intense that they could peer into each other’s souls.

Spike could feel Angel, thick and hard again, beginning to move, an incredible friction of slick heat, so gentle and tender, he felt as if he were melting; melting into the cold body of the vampire; burning him with his desire. Angel moved slowly, savoring each long stroke, his eyes devouring Spike’s face. Earlier had been a wild frenzy. Now Angel wanted to take his time, build their pleasure slowly.

His fingers tangled in Spike’s hair. His mouth tasted his satin skin, finding the pulse beating in his vulnerable throat. He could see the twin puncture marks he made and was surprised that for once he didn’t feel guilty. He lowered his mouth to the marks and swept his tongue across them, feeling Spike’s body tremble as he did so.

He lifted his head and stared down at Spike. He whispered. “I can’t believe you’re back; here, with me, after so long.” His hips continued their slow, languorous movement.

His slow, rhythmic rocking was taking Spike’s breath away and fanning the embers of the smoldering fire somewhere in the pit of his stomach. His body was moving with Angel’s, following his guidance without inhibition. He loved the feel of Angel’s hands on his body, the brush of his chin, his mouth, across his nipples. Angel was stealing his breath with his tenderness.

Spike hands found Angel’s hips. Angel’s body surged forward; his large cock burying itself again in the heated depths of Spike’s ass. He began to move with deeper, stronger strokes, picking up the pace until the smoldering embers of their passion were leaping flames.

At the unexpected flash of fire sweeping through Spike’s body, he bit his lip, unmindful that he broke the tender skin. A bright red spot of blood appeared where Spike’s teeth had slit his skin and Angel’s glittering golden eyes focused there, untamed demonic emotion lurking in their depths. Just that look sent Spike spiraling over the edge, his body erupting in a mind-shattering explosion. His breathless cry was lost as Angel’s mouth found his, capturing the sound forever. His tongue swept across his lips, a curling caress that impossibly heightened Spike’s pleasure.

Angel’s every muscle tensed. He was motionless for a heartbeat, and then threw back his head and surged forward, burying himself in Spike, his body shattering in reaction; overriding his control. It felt so right, he thought the ecstatic pleasure would go on forever. But at his release, the spinning world of incredible passion and emotions lasted not nearly long enough. Angel desperately wanted to be captured in the moment there for all time, with Spike locked safely in his arms.

They lay together without moving, without speaking, savoring the moment and each other. Angel was the first to move, reluctantly shifting his weight. He gathered Spike tightly to him as if he were afraid that the love of his long life would suddenly disappear. Spike stroked Angel’s arm as it wrapped possessively around him. They kissed again tenderly and lovingly. Spike pulled the covers up over their bodies and nestled back down within Angel’s embrace.

Angel watched as Spike fought to keep his eyes open. He placed a kiss on the tip of his nose. “Sleep, Spike. We’ll be together tomorrow and always.” He watched as Spike’s eyes fluttered closed. He tightened his hold on the warm body in his arms, letting the beat of Spike’s heart lull him to sleep.

A few hours later, Angel was startled awake by a scream of pure terror. Bolting upright, he saw Spike bound from the bed, a look of confused fright on his pale face as he glanced around the room frantically. Suddenly his eyes widened in sheer terror when he realized he was naked. He grabbed the quilt off the bed and hurriedly wrapped it around his naked body.

He glared at Angel, his eyes glittering with furious tears. “What…how…why…”

Angel scooted across the bed towards Spike, unsure of what was happening. As Angel got out of bed and moved towards Spike, he jerked and stepped away.

“Don’t come near me,” he snarled, his lips curled in disgust as his body visibly trembled.

“Spike?”

“Spike! No! Will…you…what did you do to me?”

“Oh God! No…please, no!” Angel moaned in heartbreaking anguish as he fell back onto the bed.

~Part: 20~

Will tripped as he hurriedly stumbled out of the bedroom. The ends of the quilt he had grabbed to cover himself as he staggered out of the bed tangled in his feet as he ran and he fell onto the hard wooden floor of the living room. He lay there, stunned. Tears of rage, fear, confusion and embarrassment flooded his flushed cheeks as horrifying thoughts and images careened through his mind.

My God! I…I was…naked…in bed…in bed with my professor! It was Spike…I was Spike…Spike and the prof…Angel had sex! How…where was I? Oh God!

Will laid his cheek on the hard floor, wrapped his arms around his head and sobbed. He didn’t want to think. He didn’t want to remember. But he did. He remembered everything. The burning ache in his ass proved that his memories were true.

“Spike? Spike? What happened?” Faith’s soft voice was concerned as she hurried to the man lying on the floor. She knelt down and touched his arm. “Spike?”

Will raised his head to look at her and she gasped at his flushed, tear stained face. “I’m Will…not Spike!” He said through clenched teeth.

Faith drew back. “Oh, no. Oh my God!”

Angel walked stiffly out of the bedroom. His brow was deeply furrowed and his hands were shaking as he tried to button his shirt. Faith looked at her friend and her heart broke. He was devastated.

Will scrambled to his feet, clutching the quilt around his slender form. He stared at Angel with hate and terror as his body trembled violently. “Stay away from me!” he snarled as he took several steps back. Once again he tripped and fell hard onto the floor, this time cracking his head. He lay still for a moment and Faith and Angel hurried to his side. Faith knelt down next to him but Angel stayed a few steps back, worried that he would upset the boy even more. He let Faith help the boy. He walked into the kitchen and put ice in a towel. When he returned, he handed it to Faith.

She leaned over Will. His eyes were closed although tears slipped silently from beneath his lids. She breathed a little easier when she realized he wasn’t unconscious. “Will, are you hurt? Can I help you up?”

The young man opened his eyes and looked at her and she felt an almost overwhelming pity for him. He was so young and he was terrified. “My head…my head hurts…everything…hurts.” He began to cry again, although he angrily swiped the tears from his face.

“Let me help you up. We need to put ice on your head,” Faith said quietly. She stood up and bent over him. Using her slayer strength she lifted him up and helped him walk to the sofa. He winced and moaned when he sat down and immediately raised his eyes to Angel as Faith moved behind Will and held the ice to his head.

“You…you raped me!” He snarled and his beautiful face contorted with anger. As suddenly as the fury rose, it subsided and the young man sank against the back of the sofa, totally defeated although his eyes burned as he stared at Angel. He leaned forward suddenly, held his hands over his ears and moaned pitifully.

Faith looked over at Angel. He was standing, staring at Will. His shoulders were hunched and his arms hung at his side; his hands curled rigidly in tight fists. He took his eyes away from the boy and looked at Faith. He had the same look of desperation and loss that he had after the events in the alley. Of course…he lost Spike again! Oh God! When will they stop? Will he never have peace?

Faith placed a hand on Will’s shoulder and drew him against the back of the sofa, holding the ice pack against his head. “What do you remember? Do you remember Spike?”

The young man raised his eyes again. He glared angrily at Angel. Angel watched him but said nothing. Abruptly, he closed his eyes. He hung his head again and began to wring his hands. His voice was barely audible when he spoke. “Yes…I…I remember…Spike was here…I was gone…but…I…I was here…in…in my head with Spike.”

He looked up at Faith and she gasped involuntarily at the sadness and fear she saw in his tear blurred blue eyes. She reached out to him and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Will…I…I don’t know how this happened. Spike was here. He was in your human body. Do you remember fighting the demons?”

Will closed his eyes briefly as if searching his memories. “Yes...” He shuddered and looked over at Angel. “He…you…” He couldn’t finish the sentence and he turned his face away from the vampire. His slender body was visibly trembling.

“Yes, Angel rescued you and brought you back here. He took care of you. You were seriously hurt and unconscious…then…”

“I woke up…as Spike…I tried to stop him…but he was too strong…he wanted…” Will glanced at Angel. “He wanted to see you! He wouldn’t let me…I tried…but he was too strong…I couldn’t…”

He burst into tears again. “I…I was too weak…I couldn’t fight him.” He looked again at Angel. His face softened although the tears still wet his cheeks. “He…he loved you…he…had to be with you again.” Once again, Will hung his head and whispered. “He loved you…he loved you so much…but…”

His eyes flashing again with anger, Will glowered at Angel. He lifted one quivering hand and touched his neck. “You…you bit me!”

Faith gasped and looked quickly at Angel. It seemed as if he had grown paler. His lips moved but he said nothing aloud. For a long moment, there was no sound in the huge room save the quiet ticking of the old grandfather’s clock.

“I…vampires…it’s a part…it’s a part of…sex with vampires. It’s…He wanted me to. I wanted…” Angel said softly as he watched Will’s face, flushed red in fury.

The young man and the vampire watched each other warily. Angel’s guilt marched across his kind face. His dark eyes burned with shame and self-hatred. Will’s posture had stiffened when he flung his accusation at Angel. He got up suddenly and stalked closer to the vampire. Angel didn’t move as Will stopped only inches away from him. The frightened boy stared menacingly at the despondent vampire. “He…Spike…you knew…it was my body…I’m not a vampire!”

“I…I wanted Spike…I gave in…I was lost in…I couldn’t refuse him anything, Will,” Angel replied quietly.

The boy started when Angel said his name. He searched the vampire’s face and then turned and walked slowly back to the sofa. He sank into the cushions, leaned over and held his head in his hands. He rocked back and forth, murmuring so quietly that even Angel could not hear.

Faith looked at her friend. Angel had not moved or changed his posture. He stood tall, his body rigid; his face expressionless. The sharp angles of his cheeks cast shadows over his white skin. He had not taken his sad, dark eyes away from Will. They were moist and full of so much pain it was almost palpable. He didn’t speak.

Will looked up and stared intently at Angel, his eyes glistening with tears; all the rage had evaporated. “I’m…I’m sorry. He…he wanted to stay…but…but I wanted to come back. I…I’m sorry…he loved you…I didn’t know anyone could…could love that much.”

Angel stared back at Will. He spoke in a soft, hoarse voice that trembled slightly with intense emotion. “I…I loved him too…I…I never knew how much…I’m grateful that I had...” Angel swallowed and continued. “We…we had a little time…I’ll have…I’ll have those memories.” Again he paused. “You…you had to come back…you belong…Spike…Spike doesn’t…”

His voice broke slightly. He stopped talking and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, his reserve was back. He had centuries of practice in secreting his deeply passionate emotions in the far recesses of his mind and heart. “I’m…I’m sorry…about…” Angel stopped. He didn’t know what to say or how to say it. How can I say I’m sorry I raped you?

Will had watched Angel. He saw the heartache in his eyes and despite his anger and confusion he was touched. “I…I know…it wasn’t really…it was my body…but…Spike…wanted…I…I’d never…I…I was...” The young man lowered his head and stared at his hands still gripping each other tightly. He was worn out. The frenetic shifting of his emotions and his physical fragility were exhausting him.

Oh God…he was a virgin…Damn! Faith was becoming more and more furious. Will and Angel suffered. Spike was gone. Way to go, blondie…you always leave chaos in your wake! She shook her head as if to dislodge her thoughts. It wasn’t Spike’s fault. He had waited a century to love Angel; to be his lover. He had to take his chance. He didn’t know how long he had. I’m so sorry, Spike.

Suddenly, Will’s stomach growled. Faith and Angel looked at him in surprise and he blushed.

“Sorry…”

“Oh…you must be starving. I’m sorry….” Angel stammered as he looked at Faith.

“I have chicken, soup…what do you feel like eating, Will?” she asked with a smile.

“I…I don’t care…maybe soup?” he answered softly.

“Perfect. I brought some soup and bread home from an Irish pub near-by.”

He turned to Angel, and they watched memories almost march across his brow. “You’re Irish…from Galway…Liam…”

Angel was startled by the sudden shift into the past. “Um…yes…a long, long time ago.”

“You’re an artist…you sketched…” He stopped and blushed. The boy looked down and said no more. He had sudden images of Spike lying naked in front of the fire as Angelus, sitting in a chair near-by, sketched his body.

The tension pulsated in the room. Faith turned to walk into the kitchen. “I’ll heat up the soup and bread.”

Angel and Will were left alone. The tension level increased. Neither knew what to say. Angel, normally taciturn, felt that the part of his brain that provided language had shut down. The emotional upheaval he had felt since Will had been hurt in the park weighed heavily on his heart and soul. Suddenly, he toppled under the burden and sank into the near-by rocking chair. He rested his head against the wooden back and closed his eyes. He had no energy to stop the silent, hot tears that spilled onto his cheeks.

Angel felt a warm body hovering near-by and he opened his eyes. Will was watching him; his face pale and his eyes sadly sympathetic. Angel brushed the tears from his face and tried to smile, but failed. He knew he looked unwelcoming and part of him didn’t care. He was tired, so very tired.

“Where are my clothes?”

Angel stiffened. “Um…they were torn and bloody. I’ll…I’ll get you some.” The vampire got up from the chair and walked into his bedroom. He came out shortly with a pair of sweatpants and a sweater. He had Will’s boots in his hand. Angel held them out and Will took them.

“You…Faith can show you the bathroom she’s using.”

Faith called from the kitchen. “Will, soup’s ready. Why don’t you come to sit at the table?”

Carrying the clothes and struggling to keep the quilt around him, Will gave Angel a long, confused look and stumbled into the kitchen.

Angel watched him walk away. He returned to his bedroom, making sure to shut the door. He went into the bathroom, undressed and turned on the shower. He hoped the hot needles of water pounding onto his flesh would help ease his tension, but they didn’t. He stood under the spray until the water ran cold. He toweled off and dressed in house pants. He stared at the rumpled bed where a few hours ago he had been in the throes of ecstasy in the arms of the man he loved. But Spike was gone, replaced by a confused and angry twenty-five year old human young man who hated him.

Angel crawled into the empty bed. Spike’s scent was everywhere. He lay for several minutes hugging the pillow that Spike had used and breathing the fragrance that he would never smell again. Bitter tears blurred his eyes. He was exhausted; mind, body, heart. He remembered another time when he had lost all energy. For weeks after the alley, his vampire body demanded an inordinate amount of rest, although his mind never ceased its tumultuous thoughts and his heart, unbeating though it was, ached with an anguish that would not subside. Despite the turmoil in his mind and heart, Angel fell asleep quickly. His dreams, however, were not peaceful. All of the harshest images of his life as the vicious, evil Angelus crashed throughout his dreams. Much like when his soul was first returned to him, every victim’s face appeared; the bloody wounds in their necks brightly bleeding; their screams echoing in his mind. The faces of every man, woman, and child that he tortured and murdered flickered into focus and then disappeared; their screams remaining an incessant, hideous cacophony in his head.

A gentle touch woke him suddenly from his nightmares. Faith stared at him, her dark brown eyes filled with concern. “Angel, you…you were dreaming. You…were moaning and shouting. Are you all right?”

He looked at her for a long moment and then spoke, his voice barely a hoarse whisper. “I’ll never be all right, Faith. I thought, perhaps, that I had made a life that I could…accept, but…they’ll never be done with me…never.”

Faith didn’t know how to reply. The dull anger that she felt before was becoming flames of fury. She now believed that he could be right. The Powers That Be were not yet finished tormenting her friend. She wouldn’t allow it. She had to do something. She would do something, somehow. Angel deserved peace and she would make every attempt to help him achieve it.

“Will wants to go home. I’ll walk back to his apartment with him.” She said as she scanned Angel’s face for any hint of emotion, but he remained impassive.

He said nothing; just nodded and closed his eyes again. He wanted the boy to go. He couldn’t face his accusing glances any more. He couldn’t face his tears and his anger. He couldn’t help him. He could only hurt him and he had hurt enough people. He needed to be alone. It was better for everyone if he were alone. He would finish the semester and then request a sabbatical. He had taught for years and had never asked for leave. They wouldn’t refuse him.

Faith sighed. “I’ll be back in a while, Angel and…” She hesitated and the vampire opened his eyes. “Robin…Robin is coming to New York…he got tickets for Aruba…we’ll leave from here…the day after tomorrow.”

Finally, Angel smiled. “That’s good, Faith. Warm sun, sand and sea.”

She looked back over to her friend, nodded and left the room. Angel closed his eyes again and the horrific images quickly returned. He heard another voice, soft and slightly tremulous and he opened his eyes once more. Will stood in the doorway.

“I’m…I’m going back to my apartment…thanks…thanks for…tending to my wounds...I…” He trailed off.

Angel nodded but said nothing. The boy gazed at him for a long moment and then turned and left. He heard Faith and Will talking and then the door opened and closed and the apartment was filled once again with silence. Silence. He was used to silence but now it seemed so loud and empty.

Faith and Will hurried back to the young man’s apartment. The snow had stopped but it was still very cold and he shivered. His body wasn’t fully healed and he didn’t think his heart and soul would ever be. Spike was silent now, but the vampire had raged at him after he accused Angel of rape. Will knew he would be back in his head soon enough.

He unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped back for Faith to enter. She glanced around and immediately noticed the balcony and the telescope. She stared at him with barely concealed anger. “Spying on Angel, Will? That’s pretty low.”

Will blushed and stammered, “I…I…I’ve been having images of Spike…and Angel since I was a kid. When I got older, they became more intrusive…and…and more with them…together. That’s…that’s why I came. I…I wanted to know more about Spike and I knew that Angel was the only one who would have the answers. Giles wouldn’t help me…my parents only knew part of what was happening to me. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Why didn’t you tell him? Ask him to help you? He would have, you know. He helps everyone.” she replied sharply.

Will turned away. “I…I was frightened. I wanted to know…but I was afraid to find out.” He swiveled to look at her and his face showed his confusion and anguish. “I…I don’t know who…who I am! And now it’s worse since…since Spike.” He stopped speaking and took several shaky breaths. “He forced his way out and I couldn’t stop him. Will he do it again? Will I be able to stop him if he tries again? Will I be able to come back next time? Will I be locked up in some mental hospital?”

Will’s pale face glistened with perspiration and his eyes had filled with tears. He was trembling and he clenched his hands into tight fists. They stared at each other. Finally Faith walked closer and put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. It must be horrible to have the images and Spike’s voice in your head. I know when I was in prison, images of my often violent past kept me awake many nights.”

“You were in prison?” he asked in wonder. He didn’t remember reading about that.

“Yes. I murdered a man. Buffy and I were hunting vampires and he was suddenly there and I staked him. It was a mistake but I allowed it to draw me further into a life of violence. Speaking of that, I’ll tell you how Angel helped me realize that I needed to pay for what I’d done. Sit down. I’ll tell you about how Angel saved me.” Her tone was firm and Spike sank into the sofa.

Faith proceeded to reveal her escapades as the crazed slayer in the employ of the evil mayor of Sunnydale. She told Will that she had poisoned Angel and only the blood of a slayer could save him. She told him about her coma, her arrival in Los Angeles and taking the contract from Wolfram and Hart to kill Angel. She told him about torturing Wesley and fighting with Angel.

“I begged him to kill me. I wanted to die. I hated what I had become. He wouldn’t kill me and he took me into his home. His friends, Cordy and Wes, didn’t understand why he was helping me. They were hurt that he was, but he didn’t give up on me. He wouldn’t let me give up on myself, and eventually I turned myself in to the police. I was convicted and sent to prison. He visited me every month for three years until I broke out to help capture Angelus.”

Will had not taken his eyes from Faith. He had read that she became a rogue slayer but there had been no information about her trying to kill Angel. “You tried to kill Angel?” he asked incredulously.

“Yep. I was out of control. Angel was the only one in my life who never gave up on me. He’s good man.”

They sat in silence for a minute and then Will got up. “Do you want some tea or water or anything?”

“Water would be good.”

Will got two bottles of water out of the fridge and returned to the living room. “Tell me about Angelus. How did Angel became Angelus again?” He had not read about this either.

“Well, there was a beast that performed a spell and blocked out the sun in Los Angeles. The beast, in usual cryptic fashion, said that he knew Angelus long ago although he gave no details. Wesley decided that Angelus must have helpful information and they decided to take out Angel’s soul and bring back the monster. Stupid, huh?”

“God. There wasn’t any other way? Why would they think Angelus would help them?”

“Exactly. Sometimes very intelligent people are really stupid!”

“So, what happened?”

“They did some sort of a spell, Angel’s soul left and Angelus remained. Of course, somehow the container with his soul disappeared. We won’t even get into that. Wesley came to me. I broke out of prison and went with him to Los Angeles. We tracked Angelus and I injected myself with this magical drug. When he bit me, the drug weakened him and we captured him. Of course, the side effects were pretty horrible. I almost died.”

She winked at him. “But I’m too ornery. I wasn’t ready to let death get me. I had this mind walk with Angelus and Angel. Angel was trying to fight his way back but Angelus was holding on tight. Angel kept yelling at me to fight the drug. Fred called Willow and she retrieved the soul from the ether or whatever and it worked. Angelus was forced back inside Angel and we had our champion back. I had my friend back.”

Will gaped at her. “You fought Angelus. You took a dangerous drug and almost died? To save Angel?”

“Yep. He’s my friend. Everyone should have a friend like Angel. If they did, they’d never feel lost.” She grinned at him. “Don’t usually talk so much.”

“I know about Willow. She’s a member of a coven in England. I read about her in Giles’ diaries too. She was Buffy’s friend and she became a witch.”

“Yep. She has tremendous power, but she’s a gentle person although she became evil once too.”

“Yes, Giles wrote about that. You…you’re both strong. You were able to fight the evil.”

“Not without help. Xander brought Willow out of her darkness and Angel believed in me. He fought back too in that alley. Fought Angelus and wouldn’t let me give up. It gave Willow enough time to secure his soul. He made me fight the effects of the drug. Look, I can’t imagine what you’re feeling. It’s gotta suck but Spike was here! Might have been your body, but it was Spike’s mind. That blonde vampire is one of the sexiest people I’ve ever met and he wanted Angel. They’d known each other for over a century. They weren’t always friends, pretty much competitors for the twenty or so years they lived together before Angelus regained his soul.”

“Buffy,” Will said quietly.

“Oh yeah. She wrapped them both around her finger. She and Angel loved each other, but it couldn’t work, so he left Sunnydale. Spike loved her but she used him. He got his soul for her and he chose to die, saved the new slayers, and destroyed the Hellmouth.”

“Giles didn’t write anything about Spike and Buffy’s…um…” He blushed and Faith laughed.

“Nah, he wouldn’t. He’d never write down anything not so perfect about his Buffy,” she said harshly and then laughed. “Bet all the ugly details about me are in there.”

Will didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

Angel lay still for a while, staring at the ceiling and reliving all the reasons why he should be alone; all the reasons that he should keep everyone at a distance: His ferocious arrogance throughout his life as a vampire that contaminated everything and everyone he touched; the brutal murders of his parents and Kathy; Drusilla and her madness; Darla’s pregnancy and death, the result of his despair; Buffy, loving an innocent child and destroying her with his passion; Doyle; Cordelia; Wesley; Gunn and Fred; Spike, the true hero who even before he got his soul worked with Buffy to fight the demons who inhabited Sunnydale; Spike who suffered horrible tortures to get his soul; Spike who gave his life once to save the new race of slayers and avert an apocalypse and then again in the alley because he, Angel, wanted to show the Senior Partners that for “one, brief shining moment”, they didn’t own them.

Sleep wouldn’t come and after a few hours, Angel got out of bed. He ripped the sheets and pillowcases that still smelled of Spike and their lovemaking off the bed. He stood for a long while, holding them in his arms, sniffing, remembering the scent. He folded the linens carefully and laid them on the back of the top shelf in his closet. His mind’s voice spoke harshly to him. Torment yourself. Breathe in his scent. Remember what you lost. What you could have had in Los Angeles, but in your inveterate arrogance you ignored. You’re alone. You’ll live alone for the rest of your interminable life. You should push everyone away. Anyone who gets close to you gets hurt. I don’t know why Spike loved you. He was far beyond what you deserve. He was selfless. You are selfish. You’ve always been. Take. Take whatever you want and do not think about the cost to others. You deserve loneliness.

Angel shuddered and silenced the voice. He turned and walked quickly to his desk. He phoned the Dean to tell him that he would be back for his next class. Twelve more…just twelve more classes. He will drop out. He won’t return to class…Good…that’s good.

Will had draped the quilt over the back of the sofa. Angel grabbed it and shoved it into the washer. He didn’t want to smell Will or the traces of Spike that permeated the boy’s skin. He took the bottle of Jameson’s and a glass from a closet and carried it back to the living room. He built up the fire and pulled the rocking chair closer to the flames and began to drink.

Faith returned from Will’s apartment. She saw the empty whiskey bottle and her despondent friend, watching the fire and drinking.

“Angel…” she began.

The vampire interrupted but didn’t look at her. “Faith, please…not…please?”

The slayer stared at him for several minutes. “This…this isn’t good. There are no answers in the bottom of a whiskey bottle. I know.” She sighed. “I’ll leave you to regrets now, but we’ll talk tomorrow. I’m not leaving until I know you…you won’t…”

“I won’t stake myself, Faith,” he said quietly and looked up at her. “Good night.”

Faith thought she had seen pain in Angel’s eyes before, after the battle in the alley, but this pain didn’t rage; this pain tormented incessantly. She walked over to him and bent to kiss his head. She had never done that before and it startled him.

“Angel, you are the best man I know. I know you don’t believe that but you are. Spike knew it. That’s why he fought so hard to come back to you.”

Angel stared at her and the anguish she saw on his handsome face eyes brought tears to her eyes and tightened her throat. She squeezed his shoulder. “Good night, Angel.”

“Night, Faith. Thank you.”

Angel drank and thought throughout the night. He finished two bottles of Jameson’s but the whiskey didn’t dull his pain, nor did it silence the voice or banish the images that haunted him. He was still sitting in the chair when Faith woke the next morning. The fire had burned itself out but he stared into the ashes.

She fixed him a glass of blood and handed it to him. “Drink this now, Angel.”

He looked up at her determined face and took the glass. He swallowed a few mouthfuls and then handed her the glass. “Can’t…I’ll drink more later, promise.” He tried to smile but failed. “I called the Dean. I’ll teach my class tomorrow night. Finish the semester.”

“Then what?”

“I’m going to ask him about a sabbatical. Get away from the city,” he replied.

“Where?” she asked.

“Not sure yet.”

Faith busied herself doing some laundry and packing. Angel got up to take a shower and then fell asleep. She peeked in on him several times when he shouted out or moaned, but let him sleep. Finally, it was time to go to the airport to meet Robin. She went into his bedroom and touched his arm. “Angel?” As soon as she touched him, he opened his eyes. “I have to leave for the airport to meet Robin. Taxi’s downstairs.”

He got up immediately and followed her out into the living room. Her suitcase sat by the door.

“Thanks, Faith. I’m glad you came. I’m glad you were here when…”

“Me too. I’ll be calling you and you’d better answer the phone, big guy or I’ll come back here and kick your ass!” She smiled at him and he managed a twitch of his lips.

He walked with her to the door. “Take care, Angel. I’ll be in touch.” Faith reached up and kissed his cheek, they hugged and stepped apart.

“Remember when I came to L.A.? Angelus? Got my hug this time.”

They both smiled at the memory. “You’re a good friend, Faith. Thanks for…everything.”

“You taught me how to be a friend, Angel.”

She opened the door and strode toward the elevator. He carried her suitcase. The doors binged open and Faith stepped inside. She turned and looked at him. “Stay in touch, Angel.”

He nodded and smiled. The doors closed and Faith was gone. Angel went back into his apartment. He grabbed another bottle of whiskey and reclined in front of the huge window at the edge of his living room and began to drink. The burning taste of the liquor coated his throat. The gray, bleak sky fit his somber mood. He drank glass after glass but it did not dull his pain. Spike is gone. Spike is gone. Spike is gone. Suddenly, in a fury, he grabbed the almost empty whiskey bottle and threw it against the wall next to the window. The glass shattered in glittering pieces on the wood floor and the amber liquid dripped in streaks down the wall.

He stood up abruptly and strode to the cabinet to get yet another bottle of Jameson’s and then walked to the television. He reached onto the bookshelf and pulled out a DVD; the DVD that Lorne had put together during their year at Wolfram and Hart. He put it into the player. He walked slowly to the sofa and sank into the deep cushions. Will’s scent mingled with Spike’s in the leather. He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed. Their scents would haunt him. Images of Spike and Will living with him would never fade. Everywhere he looked, he saw Spike: sprawled on the sofa, lying in front of the fireplace, choosing a film. He saw Will’s terrified and furious face as he stood trembling, wrapped in his quilt staring at him with hatred. His shook his head. His apartment was not a safe haven anymore. He clicked the remote and the faces of his lost friends began to appear on the screen. He began to drink and watch and mourn…alone.

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