A Past Not Forgotten

Author: angelspike69 & anamcara420

Parts: 21 - Epilogue

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~Part: 21~

After Faith left, Will wandered around his apartment a bit, at a loss as to what to do. He noticed the blinking red light on his answering machine, but he didn’t want to deal with the messages he knew were from Giles. He knew that Giles was probably worried about not hearing from him for a few days. What could he say? “Hi Giles. No I’m fine. Just almost got myself killed by a bunch of demons. Angel took me in, cared for me. Oh and by the way, I turned into Spike. I let Angel fuck me.” Oh yeah, he could see that going over real well.

He couldn’t cope with Giles’ disappointment or his reproof. He turned away from the phone and ignored the slight guilt he felt at blowing off the former watcher who had been very good to him…until he became more determined to seek answers from Angel. Since then the protests and recriminations had replaced kindness and understanding. He went over to his laptop sitting on the dining room table and turned it on. While it booted up, he wandered over to the windows. Saw the telescope sitting outside. He glanced down at Angel’s apartment, hand on the door. He flicked the lock, and just stood there. Sighing, he locked the door again, and turned to go back to his computer. Scrolling down, he saw that he had several emails, two from his parents, and even more from Giles…again wanting answers, wanting to know where he’d been, what he’d been doing, and how he was doing.

How could he answer that when he wasn’t sure himself? He stood up from the table abruptly, strode into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. He stood there, the cool air making him shiver slightly, as he looked at the contents inside. He wasn’t really hungry, and he had nothing that remotely appealed to him. He sighed, slammed the door and leaned back against the steel door, closing his eyes.

A cloud of ennui enveloped him, fogging his brain. He didn’t know what to do. He stood there, stock still in the kitchen, in Angel’s clothes. He ran his hands through his mussed hair and scrubbed a hand across his eyes. He felt lost and alone. What do I do now? Who am I? Am I William Tate or Spike? Am I a totally psychotic floating between two different personalities? He was desperately tired and his body still ached. He wanted to close his eyes and sleep peacefully. When he opened them again, he wanted to find that the events of the last several days were nothing more than an extremely bad nightmare. But it wasn’t the frenetic ravings of a fevered mind. Everything happened.

He sighed and remembered snatches of Angel’s kindness when he was caring for his wounds. When he struggled briefly into awareness, he felt Angel’s presence; his gentleness and his soft voice. This was not the vampire that Giles warned him about. This was the vampire that Faith revealed to him: a loyal, compassionate friend.

He shook his head. He didn’t want to deal with the events of the last few days; he needed to block everything out. He didn’t want to deal with his life. What life? His life was changed forever even if Spike left him alone, which he seriously doubted. He had opened Pandora’s Box and Spike’s memories flew out and mixed with his. Was there really any hope left inside? Any hope that he would be only Will again?

He shuddered. He had to go away somewhere and hide; to lay low, and gather his thoughts…his own thoughts…and figure out what the hell to do. Spring break was coming up. Maybe he’d get out of the city. Get out of America, but where would he go? He was itching to get back to London for a bit. His London! Hang out with some school chums. Maybe that would help him regroup, get his senses back together. But could he do that and not have Giles find out?

He left the kitchen, and went into his bedroom. He undressed, leaving the borrowed clothes in a pile on the floor. He walked naked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. When it was hot enough, he climbed in, closed the glass door, and let the tingly needles of water cascade down his body. The hot water helped to relax some of his tense muscles a little bit. He didn’t move. He just stood there, with his hands pressed up against the tiles, and allowed the water to pummel him.

Spike was quiet in his head, but jumbled scenes from the last few days refused to stop flitting through his brain. He remembered fighting the demons in the park, but the days that followed were clouded in a fog that cleared briefly and then swirled back, obscuring time and place and reality. He remembered pain. He remembered Angel. When the fog finally lifted, he knew he was in Angel’s apartment, but it was not him, Will. He was Spike. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t wrest control away from Spike. The vampire was too strong and too determined to stay. So he was forced to just be, to share his mind with the wild vampire who was ecstatic to be back with Angel. He felt everything Spike felt for Angel, feelings he didn’t understand.

When he got older and understood some of the flashes that he’d been having since he was a child, he could never comprehend why Spike would come back time and time again, only to be rejected by Angel and used as a punching bag. In the past, Angelus had viciously mistreated him but Will had seen Spike search for the older vampire after he disappeared. He knew he didn’t fully understand the depth of connection in vampire families, but he had been embarrassed for Spike. Spike was powerful on his own; he didn’t need Angelus. He certainly didn’t deserve the maniacal brutality that he had suffered from the larger vampire.

But now he knew. He remembered Angel and Spike making love last night. As the images of tender touches and quiet whispers of love and concern coursed through his mind, he closed his eyes, embarrassed to find himself getting hard. He could almost feel Angel’s gentle caresses on his skin, his soft lips nibbling his heated flesh, his cool skin a blissful relief against his warm body. Still holding himself up with one hand on the tile of the shower, he unconsciously reached down and took his wet hardness into his other hand. He imagined it was Angel’s hand stroking him, making him harder, making him moan in pleasure. He forgot he was there by himself in the shower. Angel was kneeling down before him, taking his hard cock into his mouth, licking it with his tongue. Will moaned as he came. He opened his eyes and looked down, watching the milky excretion slide between his fingers and mix the water on the floor of the shower before it went down the drain.

Mortified, he quickly turned off the water and hopped out of the shower grabbing a towel off the rack, all the while hearing Spike laughing in his head.

“Shut up…just shut up.” Will told the voice in his head. “It’s not funny.”

Spike continued to laugh. “From where I’m standing, it’s bloody hilarious.”

“Just go away. You shouldn’t be here. You hijacked my body once. I’m not going to let you do it again.”

“Hijacked your body? It was my body first.”

“Yeah, well, it’s mine now. You died. Just go away.”

“Would that I could. But I can’t, so I won’t.”

Will tried to ignore the voice in his head as he got dressed for bed. He was determined to ignore Spike’s mocking comments giving him a hard time about his sodding poncey pajamas and how sleeping naked was the only way to go. It was giving him a headache.

Once dressed in his poncey flannel pajamas, he went into the kitchen and made himself a cup of hot chocolate. He carried the mug into the dining room and grabbed the phone. He sipped the hot liquid, while he checked his messages from the last couple of days. They were all from Giles, a very worried Giles. Dreading the call he knew he had to make, he checked the time on the clock, and punched the familiar numbers into the keypad and sat down.

“Hello.” Answered the familiar voice on the other end.

“Hi, Giles.”

As soon as he heard Giles voice, Spike hissed. Will could almost feel the vampire’s fury blaze.

“William. Thank God. I was worried. Why haven’t you returned any of my calls?”

“Cause you’re a sodding, nosy pain in the ass! Cause you nag him to come home!”

“Sorry about that.” He hated lying to Giles, but he knew he could never tell him the truth. “I’ve been really busy with school.”

“Oh, I understand. Just glad to hear you are okay. How are you doing?”

“He’s doin’ far better without you, you traitorous bastard!”

“I’m fine.”

“William, you…your voice is different. You seem upset. Did something happen?”

“Bloody right somethin’ happened. I’m here, Watcher and you can’t do anything about it!”

“No. Just a little homesick, I guess. The weather has been horrendous – cold and ice. Can’t really go out and do anything.” William frowned at the ‘hrump’ he heard in his head.

“Yeah, but you’ve been all warm and toasty in Angel’s bed. Tell him that. He’d love to hear that. Sullied his precious Buffy, now I’m sullying you.”

“Why don’t you come home? You can continue your education here.”

“Gettin’ a more interesting education here, Watcher. The truth about Angel…not your bloody lies!”

“You know I can’t, Giles. School wasn’t my only reason for being here.”

“Well…have you had a chance to talk to him yet?”

“Yes, a bit.”

“A bit! Didn’t do much talkin’ though. Didn’t need words; never needed words with Angel, just fists, fangs and fucking!”

“Well…”

“He’s safer away from you, you sodding prick. If people don’t measure up to your bloody standards, they’re no good. I fought for my soul; something no vampire ever did before, but no…that wasn’t good enough. You hated it that Buffy wanted me, not just as a lover but as her…her friend. She depended on me and you hated that! Made you less important!”

“Please, Giles, I know how you feel about my decision to come here and talk to Angel, so I really don’t want to talk to you about it.”

“No, don’t. He’ll bloody twist everything around. Probably send some priest to drive the devil out of you.”

“William…”

“Bugger off you poncey son of a bitch!”

“Please, Giles. Just leave it alone. I’m not going to change my mind. This is something I need to do, and I know you don’t understand that.”

“No, he never understands anything except what’s written in his dusty old books.”

“I just worry about you, Will. You had a good life, a normal life.”

“Yeah, a life according to your rules, Watcher. Even Buffy couldn’t live according to your rules!”

“Giles, we both know there has never been anything normal about my life. I need to understand why this happened and what it means. I need to find out who I really am.”

“You know who you are. You and me. Spike and William.”

“I know who you are. You’re William Tate. I still think you should forget all this nonsense and just come home where you belong. You have friends here; school mates, the coven. You’ll have a good life here.”

Will interrupted, his anger beginning to fester and his nerves jangling from Spike’s tirades. “I know you want me to come home, Giles. We’ll never agree on this and I hate arguing with you. I have to see this through. I have to have answers so I can go on with my “good” life; so I can make a life that is not filled with images of another man in another time.” He sighed and quieted his temper. “Look Giles, I’ve got to go. My head’s pounding, and I’ve got school stuff to do. I just wanted to call and let you know that I’m fine. I’ll talk to you in a few days, okay.”

“You won’t be fine til you accept that I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’m not leavin’ you. I’m not leavin’ Angel alone again.”

William’s head ached horribly and Spike’s chattering was making it worse. He just wanted to go to bed and sleep.

There was a long pause before the older man answered. “Okay, William. I do understand, but Angel is unpredictable. Please take care of yourself and please be careful.”

“Unpredictable! He never betrayed anyone. Even left your precious Buffy so he wouldn’t hurt her again, even though it killed him. You’re the lyin’, betraying bastard!”

Anger seethed when Giles mentioned Angel but Will swallowed it and responded softly. “I will. Bye, Giles.” He rubbed his eyes as he disconnected the call and laid the phone on the table.

“Bloody good riddance! Sodding ponce…”

Will groaned and held his head. His voice was a whisper. “Spike…stop…just stop a while…please.” There was no answer, just silence.

Will sat for several minutes, rubbing his temples with his fingers. He was tense, waiting for more badgering from his mind’s unwelcome guest. Finally he got up. Carrying his mug of hot chocolate, he walked to the patio doors and looked out at the apartment building across from him. Angel’s. Where the vampire cared for him as Will and as Spike. He wondered how Angel was doing. He had been so sad and desolate this morning when he woke up and found out that Will was back in control of his own body and Spike was gone.

He heard a growl. “Yeah, and then you accused him of rape.” Spike said in a low, dangerous voice. “It wasn’t rape. I wanted it.”

“I didn’t!” Will said out loud, his body beginning to shake. “I didn’t consent. I’d have never consented to that.”

Spike laughed evilly. “Don’t seem to recall you being all that bloody horrified while it was happening. Seems to me you sodding well enjoyed it yourself.”

“I did not!!”

“Did too!!”

Will shook his head, trying to get Spike out of there. Refusing to argue with him any longer, he opened the door. A blast of cold air hit him as he walked out on the patio.

“Going to play peeping tom again are you?” Spike asked, his voice seething with both mockery and anger.

“I want…I want to see if he’s okay.”

“Oh, you care about him now, do you? About bloody time. He took care of you. You would’ve died without him!”

“I know. I know. But then…then you took over. You captured my mind and I couldn’t get free. I…I was terrified. I don’t want to be you. I want to be me!”

“And I wanted him. Had to be with him.”

Will had wrapped himself in a blanket from the sofa and shoved his feet in a pair of boots resting near the door. He stepped out into the cold, shivering violently in his pajamas. He peered quickly into the telescope and moved it around until he found Angel. The vampire was sprawled in the red chair by the huge window. He was staring out of the window, but he wasn’t looking at anything. His face was a sad, dejected mask.

“See! See what you did! He was happy while I was here, now he’s alone. God dammit! He’s not gonna spend the rest of his eternal life alone!” Spike’s voice shrieked inside his head and Will staggered back against the building.

Suddenly, Spike’s voice softened into a plaintive sigh. “I’m comin’ back Angel. I’ll get back somehow. Angel…Angel…don’t look like that…please. I’m tryin’ to come back to you. I’m tryin’.”

Will was startled by Spike’s gentle soft voice when he spoke to Angel. He couldn’t stop shaking as the cold wind whipped around the exposed balcony. He turned and hurried back inside. “You’re not coming back, Spike. I’m staying.”

“We’ll see, kid. Which one of us is the more than a century old vampire who has magical connections? Something enabled me to come back. Somehow I’ll find out how to stay.”

Will was tired in mind and body. He turned off all the lights in the apartment, went into his bedroom and crawled into bed. He tossed back a few of his meds and swallowed them with water.

“What are you doin’? You tryin’ to kill yourself? No, you won’t.”

“They’re sleeping pills. I have to sleep. Please let me sleep.” Will buried his face in his pillow and cried. He felt lost and alone. He was alone except for a crazed vampire who wanted him to disappear.

A soft voice whispered, “Don’t cry, kid. We’ll figure something out. Maybe we both can stay.”

Will didn’t answer and soon he slept and Spike stayed silent.

Angel didn’t know how long he sat staring out at the bleak winter sky, drinking whiskey straight from the bottle like one of the drunken vagrants that hovered in the doorways of rundown buildings. His arms and legs weighed too much to move. His brain was clouded with guilt, his heart with despair. The anguish in his soul destroyed even the smallest measure of hope. His body was boneless; his limbs had no strength to lift him from the chair.

Finally, a weak glimmer of light slipped through the dull gray clouds. Its brightness touched his face and he looked up. Angel glanced at his watch. Dawn was struggling to force her way through the somber sky. He unfurled his stiff body from the chair and staggered slightly as he walked into his bathroom. He turned on the shower and undressed, leaving his clothes lying on the tile floor. He stepped into the shower and began to absently wash his body as the hot fingers of the water penetrated his cold skin. He stood until the water grew cold. Angel stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He walked slowly into his bedroom and stopped, staring at the sheetless bed. He remembered then. He had removed the bedding. It had smelled of Spike and their lovemaking. By rote, Angel found sheets and made his bed. He searched for the quilt and remembered. Will had wrapped it around his body when he stumbled, terrified and angry, away from him. Angel retrieved a blanket from the closet and threw it over the bed. He crawled beneath the covers. Although the linens were clean, he could still smell their mingled scents, his and Spike’s and Will’s. He clutched the pillows and pressed his face deeply into their softness. Quiet tears flowed as he drifted into sleep.

The vampire’s sleep was troubled. Kaleidoscopic images of his past with Spike flickered into view and then dissolved into mist. Images of his centuries of cruelty danced with macabre joy through his thoughts. Scenes of their vicious destruction of humans were replaced by his horrific brutality to Spike. Scenes from Sunnydale when he had taunted and tormented a paralyzed Spike drifted away and their savage battle for the cup in the abandoned opera house evolved into focus.

Suddenly Spike’s furious voice boomed in his dream. “Angel…Angel you stupid sod. Stop this. Stop drinking yourself into a drunken stupor. Stop torturing yourself with every evil act you ever committed. You were a soulless vampire. I was a soulless vampire. I was with you on many of these escapades, right by your side, laughing with glee, covered in the blood of innocents.” Although his anger still seethed, Spike’s voice softened. “You got your soul. You repented every day of your long life. Stop it! You’re killing yourself and I won’t allow it. Dammit Angel, if you die, I’m gone forever. If you live… sort of… I’ll be here. Maybe not physically, but here in your thoughts and…and now, I know, in your heart. You know I love you. I know you love me. It’s what I needed to know. We had that night. We have that memory. I’ll be with you, Angel, please, don’t give in to despair. Keep me with you. Stay with me.”

Angel startled awake. He was alone in his bed. The weak winter sun was sending shafts of pale light into the room. He glanced at the clock. It was a little after four. He had slept a long time and Spike…Spike had talked to him, or more correctly, yelled at him in his dreams. It had been so real. It was Spike’s voice. It had been unsettling, but he wanted to hear him. He wanted Spike in his life. If it meant he tormented his dreams, so be it. He grinned. Spike tormented him almost every day they were together. Perhaps the blonde vampire’s voice would silence some of the horrors he usually dreamed.

He got up slowly and went into the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and took a quick, hot shower to relieve some of the aching in his muscles. He dressed for class and went out to the kitchen to heat a mug of blood. When the microwave binged, he carried the blood to his desk. He called Jenna, the teaching assistant, who had taken over his classes and found that she had gotten as far as he would have. She told him that she had graded the last set of papers and left them in his mail box. Jenna had worked closely with him last year and he learned that he could trust her. He knew she was bright and a dedicated teacher so he agreed to be one of her advisors on her graduate thesis. She was the only one that he had ever agreed to advise. He thanked her and hung up.

For the next hour he reviewed his notes for tonight’s class, although thoughts of Will drifted in and out of his thoughts. Will he be in class? Perhaps he’ll drop out. It might be better…but… I want to see him. I know he hates me…but…how…what…should I say something…ignore him…damn! Annoyed, Angel pushed thoughts of the young man out of his mind and forced his attention back to his lecture. There were three classes before spring break and then twelve until the end of the term. He always tried to cram as much in as possible so that it would be a true survey of art despite having only thirty classes. Each semester he altered the focus slightly, covering most periods but stressing different artists or movements each time. He admitted to spending an entire class on Grimshaw, whom he had met long ago, and then an extra class or two on areas that he particularly liked: Impressionism and American Art of the twentieth century. Hopper and Wyeth were his two favorites. He had to make sure he had an entire class period to visit a young local artist who was kind enough to open his studio every semester to the students. Angel had rescued him from two incredibly beautiful vampires who had enthralled him. That visit was the last class before the final exam.

Angel stood, stretched and walked over to the window. The sky was darkening into a canvas of mottled shades of gray although determined slender shafts of pale yellow sunlight refused to be obliterated. He returned to his desk and emailed Jed Cardiff. The man had sent him a message offering his beach house on Long Island for Angel’s use over spring break. He was taking his daughters and their families to their Florida home for Easter. They would not be using the house in March. Angel was eternally grateful for the man’s loyal friendship and he was happy to flee the city for the unpopulated bleak beaches of Long Island.

He packed his papers into his briefcase and left the apartment. He strode quickly through the cold wind to his office, grabbed the carousel of slides and walked to the classroom. Will he be here? How will he act? How should I act? Angel entered the open door of the classroom and went in. The class burst into applause and shouts of “Welcome back, Professor!” He was surprised by their response. He nodded, said “Thank you and good evening” and glanced to the back of the room. Will was in his seat! He met Angel’s eyes and then looked down at his book. Angel sighed and began his lecture on James Whistler and Atkinson Grimshaw. He always made sure to tell the students that Whistler, far more famous than Grimshaw had been impressed with the other man’s use of shadowy darkness and light, which he called “nocturnes.” He called for the lights and began his slide presentation. When the lights came back on, Angel’s eyes drifted toward where Will had been sitting. The boy was not there.

****

Will was waiting near his office before the next class. The two men stared at each other for a long moment.

“Professor, I…I finished the paper that was due when I was…sick.”

Angel nodded and unlocked the door to his tiny office. He walked in and put his briefcase down. Will followed him inside. He glanced at the art posters and prints covering the wall space that was not covered with bookshelves. He walked toward the Grimshaw prints and said their titles out loud: Nightfall Down the Thames, London Bridge, View of Heath Street by Night, Reflections on the Thames, The Lighthouse at Scarborough.

He turned to face Angel, his face white, his eyes wild. “I…I left...” He paused and drew in a breath. “When…when you showed the slides…I remembered. You…you and Spike…you met him, Grimshaw…at a party.”

“Yes,” Angel said softly as he stared at the boy.

“Spike…Spike is never going away…He won’t leave…you.”

“What are you talking about? Spike is gone now. It’s just you…you…not Spike.” Angel desperately wanted to reach out and touch this young man who reminded him so much of William, the gentle vampire who became the arrogant, flamboyant Spike after Angelus viciously mocked his kind nature and crushed his tender spirit with his incessant brutality.

“No, you…you don’t understand. Spike is still here.” He pointed to his head. “Here. He talks to me constantly now, ranting and raving, saying he has to get back to you. It wasn’t like it was before, when I just had the memories. He’s alive in my head and he…he won’t give me any peace. He wants to take over again. He wants to come back to you.” Will glared at Angel, his anger warring with his terror. He lifted his chin displaying bravado that he didn’t feel. “But I won’t let him!”

“I’m sorry, Will. I…I can’t…maybe you should go back to England. Maybe the coven can help…”

“No! I don’t...want them…Giles to know that…Spike is…I went to see Morgana.”

Angel started. “Could she help?”

Will lowered his eyes and spoke into the floor. “She…she’s going to contact someone…not in the coven.” He raised his eyes and they were blurred with tears. The boy blinked furiously, refusing to allow them to spill down his cheeks. “Spike won’t leave…I know he won’t…he…” He stopped speaking and swallowed. “We…we…you and I…Spike wants…he wants us to be…together.”

Angel stood still. His body stiffened and he swore his unbeating heart skipped a beat. “NO!” He said harshly.

Will’s body shook at his loud refusal, but he continued. “You…”

Angel interrupted, trying desperately to keep his voice quiet and controlled when he wanted to scream and run away from this child who had caused him so much pain. “You’re…you’re not…him…you’re not him. You…you need to be with your family…your friends. Go…go back home…away from me…maybe Spike…maybe he’ll disappear.”

Will’s eyes blazed with anger and fear. “He won’t…he’ll never disappear. He wants you…he’s too strong. He’s gonna come back and I’ll be lost!”

Angel’s heart broke for the boy. He could see that he was suffering and terrified. “He may be quieter when you’re away from me, Will.” Angel wanted him gone. He didn’t want to see him…see Spike in his face, his eyes.

“He’ll never be quiet! He’ll never stop wanting you. I hate him!” He shuddered and then stiffened, anger replacing fear. “I hate him! He’s driving me mad. I’ll be locked away!”

Will lowered his head and Angel saw that he was trembling. He spoke softly, his voice shaking. “But…if I’m…I’m with you, maybe he’ll be…happy…maybe he’ll stop living in my head.”

“Maybe Morgana and her coven can help. It…it will be better if you’re away from me…I…I can’t be…with you…I…no…no.” Angel turned and left the room. He heard the boy sobbing but he didn’t stop. He knew he should help Will, but he couldn’t, not this time, not when all he wanted was Spike to return. Part of him wanted Spike to take over the boy. It was selfish and he hated himself for wanting Will to be gone; wanting Spike back in his arms. He ran down the stairs and out into the cold night. It had begun to snow again. Winter was determined to hold the earth in her frozen prison and the frigid fingers of dread and guilt clasped Angel’s heart and soul tightly in their grip.

~Part: 22~

Angel drove out of New York City after the evening rush hour, or more correctly, rush hours. It would take him almost three hours to reach Jed Cardiff’s beach front home in Amagansett out on Long Island. He was looking forward to the peace he hoped he would find there. New York in March could be warm, but more often the final blasts of winter spoiled most outdoor activity. Long Island, thrusting itself into the cold and often wild Atlantic Ocean, was buffeted by fierce winds during the winter. Easter was late this year, in April, so most of the houses on the island would still be closed up. He had packed a large cooler with containers of blood, enough to last him for the five days he planned to stay. His suitcase held books, sketch pads, charcoals and pencils and the few casual clothes he would need. He wanted a solitary respite after the frenetically emotional week he recently experienced. He wanted to see no one.

But he was not alone on the drive. Images of Will and images of Spike blurred into each other and haunted his thoughts – the incredible warmth and emotion that flowed through him when he was with Spike again after so many years, because this time they risked showing each other their need and their love; the anguish of Spike’s loss after their one night of passion; Spike’s voice speaking to him in his dreams; the horror and shock when Will returned, hurt and angry and afraid; the young man’s desperate attempts to get close to him, hoping to silence Spike’s voice in his head. He remembered lines from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream that seemed apropos:

He, Angel, a powerful centuries old vampire, ran away from a twenty-five year old boy who begged for his help. Another action added to the many regrets that burned their torment in his mind and heart.

Angel had studiously prepared for his classes and made sure to have more slides than he usually did so he would not have to lecture facing the students. It was easier to discuss the slides in the dark; his eyes could not search the room for Will. The young man came to the next two classes before the break but did not approach him and was gone when the lights came up after the slides were finished.

Since traffic was never predictable, he finally arrived in Amagansett after nine o’clock. All of the houses on the lane were dark which he hoped meant that no one else had arrived. He unlocked the front door and entered the home, quickly keying in the alarm code. He turned on a light in the hall, even though he didn’t need it to see. It would let the police, who often cruised by the empty properties, know that he was not a burglar. Jed had told them that Angel was his friend and would be in the house for the week. He walked through the house into the garage and pressed the automatic opener. He drove his car inside and then carried his baggage into the house.

Like most visitors to the island, he left his bags and immediately walked to the back of the house and out onto the huge deck. The scene didn’t disappoint. The ocean waves roared their greeting as they crashed on the near-by beach. The reeds in the dunes swayed and hissed their welcome. Angel walked down the wooden steps and onto the narrow boardwalk to the beach. He stood for a long time staring out into the seemingly endless ocean and then strolled for a while down the beach. The air was cold and the stiff wind blew the sand around his legs, but he could feel some of the tension that had gripped his body release. Although he rarely thought of his unhappy childhood, the wildness of the lonely beach reminded him of Galway where he had been born almost three hundred years before. He had played on the beach as a child and years later slept off many a drunken evening hidden among the huge rocks that the ancient giants supposedly threw onto the sand.

Angel didn’t return to the house until he smelled the dawn as it struggled to overpower the night. Like most beach goers, he left his shoes on the deck and walked back inside. He made himself a mug of blood and then went upstairs to the room that he always used when he visited. The heavy drapes were safely closed but he opened the window slightly behind them so he could smell the salt air.

He entered the bathroom and turned on the water for the whirlpool tub. He undressed and after it filled, he turned on the jets and sank gratefully into the hot, swirling water although images of Spike in the bath in his apartment quickly intruded into his mind. He closed his eyes and remembered his recent all too brief time with the blonde vampire who had filled his heart with such joy and love and allowed him to hope for a life of happiness. That hope was dashed when Will returned.

Will hurried downstairs when the doorman called to tell him the cab had arrived. He threw his suitcase and backpack into the car and began his journey back to England.

He settled into the backseat of the cab and closed his eyes as the vehicle pulled away from the curb.

“Running away now, are we?”

“Not now Spike,” he ground out under his breath, sneaking a look at the driver.

“Oh, please. First you offer yourself to Angel like a bloody proverbial sacrifice, then when he doesn’t take you up on your offer, you run away like a sodding scared little boy.”

Will groaned as he put his fingers up to his temples and started to slowly rub the flesh in small circles. He could feel the tension start to return.

“Please, Spike. Just give me a break and keep quiet.”

He noticed that the driver was now looking at him through his rearview mirror. Will offered the man a weak smile.

“Fine, but we’re not finished with this conversation. You don’t know Angel. Thought you did, didn’t you? I could feel your disappointment when he turned you down. What did you think you were goin’ to accomplish, offerin’ yourself up like that? He’s…he’s honorable.”

“Spike…” he said a bit louder. “Shut up, please!”

The driver turned around and stared at his passenger while they were at a red light. “You okay, sir?”

“Yea, I’m fine. Just a bit nervous about flying.”

“Oh, I understand that.” He turned back around and proceeded to the airport once the light turned green again.

Will sat there, tense, just waiting for Spike to ignore his pleas and start talking to him again. When after a few minutes all was quiet in his head, Will relaxed. He leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. He hoped this little vacation would recharge him and help him calm, or at least distract, his confused mind from what had happened between him and Angel.

His thoughts drifted back to Faith. They had kept in touch after she left. Will knew that at first it was because she was worried about Angel. But as they continued to talk and email, he realized that she was also worried about him. Even though they really hadn’t known each other long, she was beginning to feel like the sister he never had. He had always wished he wasn’t an only child and that he had a brother or a sister; someone close to him that he could talk to.

He had emailed Faith and told her he was going to London. He wanted one person to know where he was and promised to send her messages while he was away. He was relieved that she wanted to keep in touch with him. She was Angel’s friend and he knew she worried about the vampire; concerned that Spike’s loss would be the final break for a heart that had been broken far too many times.

Once he boarded the plane and took his seat, he pulled out a bottle of water. He swallowed two powerful pills. It was true that he didn’t like flying, but he was also hoping that it would keep Spike quiet during the long flight to London. Will slept most of the trip although images of Spike and Angelus from their distant past and of Spike and Angel during the last year in Los Angeles flickered in and out of focus in his dreams. When he was beginning to wake, he heard Spike’s strident voice clearly in his semi-fog of sleep.

“Can’t run away from me! You’re takin’ me with you wherever you go! Back to the Mother Country, heh? Show you some sights, kid. Wonder how much remains that I remember? England’s not like America. Doesn’t tear down sodding everything that’s old to make way for new. Tower of London? Angelus spent a little time there. Charmed his way out somehow. He always knew how to use his Irish brogue and his handsome looks to get what he wanted. Liked when he called me boyo.”

Will opened his eyes and Spike’s voice was silenced. He glanced at his watch and noticed he had slept the entire journey. He felt the plane’s landing gear grind down and soon they had screeched down the runway and rumbled to a stop at their gate. He got his bag from the overhead compartment, reached for his backpack and waited for his turn to deplane. He hurried through the waiting room, trying to ignore the faces all bright with anticipation for the arrival of a loved one. No one waited for him. He joined the queue for a taxi and pulled out his cell phone. Peter answered on the third ring.

“Hi, it’s me… Yeah, just arrived. Taking a cab to the Liverpool Street Station. Should be there in about two hours…No…You never know what might happen…okay…I’ll meet you there.”

Will just missed a train when he arrived at the station and he waited impatiently for a half hour until another arrived. Although he was looking forward to being with his friends again, he found himself being a little nervous. He hadn’t seen them in a while and they had been derisive and miffed about his decision to attend NYU. They looked at it as a betrayal.

He arrived in Cambridge and walked the few blocks to The Tram Depot, a nearby pub. Dana, one of the barmaids, gave him a slight smile of welcome. She was obviously still annoyed that he left her so abruptly. They had dated only a few times before he left, but he knew she had become more involved in the relationship than he had been.

“Hey Will, get your sodding traitorous ass over here.” Jack waved an arm and yelled from a booth in the back.

Will smiled and strode toward his friends. “Stow your gear, ponce. Tell us all about the U S of A. How many blonde bints did you bonk in the Big Apple?” Alex asked with a grin.

Will shook his head. “None, nada? Bollocks, Will. You are a bloody poofter!” Mark said with a disgusted shake of his head.

Spike’s growl startled him. “Bugger him. Bloody rich bastards makin’ comments on what they know nothin’ about. They’re not your friends, kid, not at all.”

Will slid into the booth and immediately a warm glass of beer appeared in front of him. He looked up and nodded his thanks to Dana. Her face was unfriendly and she turned quickly and walked away.

“See, Will, you buggered that deal. Though she consoled herself quickly with me.” Mark smirked at him.

Will said nothing and he allowed their conversation to wash over him for a while as he faded out. Suddenly he started. “What? Where are you goin’?”

“Knew you weren’t paying attention you gormless tit!” Jack snarled. “We’re going to Amsterdam. Leaving early tomorrow night.”

“Hot damn!!! Haven’t been there in ages. The 60’s I think it was. You’re in for the time of your life.”

Will rolled his eyes at the voice in his head, while Spike chuckled. “Why are you going there?” Will asked quietly.

His three friends looked at one another and shook their heads. “Shit, you plonker, get your finger out and stop pissing around. What the bloody hell do you think we’re going for? To get sodding shagged!” Mark replied, as he stared at Will incredulously.

Will listened to their plans with growing concern as they spoke of the Red Light District in Amsterdam and all of the sexual opportunities it offered. Then there was Spike, in his head, excited to get back to a city he remembered. Talking about the adventure he was about to go on, and all the fun to be had. He didn’t understand it. How could Spike be excited and looking forward to going to a city where the intent was to just seek out sex? Will thought Spike loved Angel. If he loved him, then how could he be so gleeful at the prospect of having sex with someone else? He just didn’t understand, and he was afraid to ask Spike about it as he didn’t really think he wanted to know the answer. He didn’t really want to go to Amsterdam, but if his friends left, where would he go? He didn’t want Giles to know he was in England. Reluctantly he agreed to join them on their search for “Dutch tarts.” After several hours of nursing just two beers, he helped a very drunk Alex to his room and fell asleep in a chair.

Their plane arrived in Amsterdam at ten in the evening. They stowed their gear in the room they rented at the Torenzicht Hotel and immediately left to stroll the Rossebuurt. Will allowed himself to be dragged to Casa Rosa where the entertainment was live sex shows. They left there and Mark and Jack were unsuccessful in their attempts to get Will and Alex to go to the de Bananenbar, where the sex shows were interactive. They stormed off and Will and Alex went to window-shop. Will felt as if his eyes were popping out of his head as he gazed at the barely dressed women standing or sprawling in glass fronted rooms lit with red light. Suddenly he stopped. A tiny young woman with long blonde hair flowing over her shoulders licked her lips and smiled at him from behind the glass. She began to dance seductively, her eyes never leaving his. Abruptly an image crashed into his mind. He…Spike was with a small blonde woman in a crumbling house. They were punching each other when suddenly he was holding her up. She kissed him and then unzipped his pants. She pulled him out and impaled herself on his cock. He struggled to stand as they stared at each other heatedly as she rode him. They staggered away from the shattering wall and fell through the floor as the building crashed in on them. Spike moaned and Will pulled himself from the memory and realized that he was hard. He looked around and Alex was staring at him.

“What…where…what were you thinking?” His friend asked apprehensively. “Who’s Buffy?”

“Um…met her in the states. Uh…that…that hooker sort of …um…looks like her. Let’s walk on.”

Alex started intently at him for another heartbeat and then they strode further down the street. When his friend stopped at another window, Will’s breath caught. This woman was tall and slender and her dark hair hung down her back. She faced away from them and wore and a long, white, lacy robe. He could see that she only wore a white thong beneath the robe. She glanced at them over her shoulder and Will’s mind filled with another image. A dark haired woman and Spike, dressed in the Victorian suit and wearing wire rimmed spectacles from his early days as a vampire. They sat together on an overstuffed couch in a room crowded with furniture, doodads and potted plants. She wore black lace gloves on her hands and her dress was old fashioned. Suddenly Spike grabbed her and flung her onto her back on the sofa. He thrust his hard erection into her undergarments. Spike moaned again and whispered, Drusilla.

“Will, Will. Are you okay?”

Will turned to Alex and saw the startled concern on his face. “Um…jet lag I guess…seem to be dreaming standing up.”

“Dreaming my ass, Will. You went into some sort of trance, moaning and touching…touching your dick.” Alex replied. “Look, are you gonna choose one of these hookers or not? I like that blonde back there.”

Will’s heart clenched. He didn’t want to be left alone, but he couldn’t ruin Alex’s evening. “Um…you go…I’ll look a little more. I’ll meet you at the hotel…um…later.”

Alex nodded, still looking unsettled at Will’s flushed, slack face and wild eyes. He stared at his friend, reluctant to leave but already titillated by the wares the girls in the red lighted windows were offering and turned to walk back to the woman who interested him.

Will turned as well and walked slowly in the opposite direction, his eyes on the pavement as he tried to ignore Spike’s soft moans. Angrily he spoke to the vampire. “You love Angel, why are you moaning about those women?”

The vampire hissed. “Long time ago…lost loves…before…before Angel and I…buggering hell.” Spike grew silent.

Will stopped and glanced up when he heard tapping. A young woman, who looked to be in her teens, crooked her finger at him. Her auburn hair cascaded over her shoulders. She wore a skimpy, lacy camisole that stopped just below her breasts and a pair of silk and lace panties with wide legs. He could see the nest of curls through the filmy fabric. He felt himself grow hard and blushed, but he didn’t walk on. He stared at her for a long moment and then entered the nearest doorway. There was a large desk and an older, yet very attractive woman dressed in a tight black sweater sat behind it. She looked up at him and smiled. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced toward it. The girl in the window was standing in the hallway waiting for him. He blushed and took out his money. He had no idea how much it cost.

The older woman smiled at him. “First time, darling?” She asked. Will didn’t answer; he just blushed a deeper shade of red. When the transaction was complete, she nodded her head and Will turned to walk down the hall. The girl was waiting for him. She stepped into the room and he followed her; his heart pounded in his chest. The room was tiny and very pink. The girl closed the door to her window room and turned back to him. A double bed with a satin headboard and coverlet took up most of the room. The light from a shaded lamp on a table bathed the room in a soft pink glow. She sat on a small upholstered chair and stared at him for a moment. Will couldn’t move. She began to remove her stockings and even that simple act was sensual.

Will stood there halfway through the doorway to the room, his blue eyes determinedly riveted on her hands as she slowly slipped the silk from her pale legs. His hands clenched at his side; he licked his lips as he watched the girl seductively remove her stockings. Her legs seemed to go on forever. She stood up and once again, Will was aware of the dark patch above her thighs.

She smiled as she sashayed over to him. “I’m CiCi.”

“Um…I’m Will.” He stammered and flushed a deep red.

When she was standing very close to him, she raised her arm and placed her manicured hand against his chest. He drew his eyes from her heart-shaped face and glanced down at her small hand. Her nails were extremely long and painted pink. Her lips twitched into a half smile and she walked behind him. Will pivoted to watch her movements and his cock twitched in anticipation. Her body was visible beneath the thin fabric of her lingerie. He watched her close the door that had remained open into the hallway. She turned back to him and came closer. With a gentle push, she walked him backwards across the room until his legs hit the bed. She winked and gave him a gentle shove. Will staggered and quickly found himself splayed on his back on the bed. She looked at his crotch and he blushed because he knew she could see his hardness.

His heart pounded harder within the confines of his chest as the girl knelt on the bed and straddled him. She reached forward and deftly unbuttoned his shirt. Her movements were fast yet somehow provocatively sexual. Will just lay there, his breathing becoming more rapid with each touch. When she had finished with the buttons, she pulled him to an upright position and removed his shirt, leaving his chest bare. Will shivered and then flushed in embarrassment. CiCi smiled and bent forward. She placed her mouth on one pert nub, laved it with her tongue, and then nipped it with her teeth. Will gasped, closed his eyes and arched into her mouth. Her breath was warm, so different from the memory of Angel’s cool breath. He willed the images of Angel from his mind.

She quickly moved to the other side of his chest and continued her ministrations. Will brought his hands up and wrapped his fingers in her long dusky red hair. As she alternated between her teeth and tongue on his nipples, he could feel himself stiffen impossibly harder. He wanted to participate in the activity and brought her head up. He looked into her sparkling green eyes as he tried to bring her closer to his for a kiss.

Abruptly she pulled away, shaking her head. She spoke softly but firmly. “No kissing.”

Will was puzzled. Although he was inexperienced, he knew kissing was a part of sexual encounters. He liked kissing. Suddenly an image appeared. Angel was tenderly kissing Spike’s lips before he thrust his tongue inside the younger vampire’s waiting mouth. Will trembled. He needed to be kissed, to feel soft lips on his own. He leaned in again to take her lips with his. She turned her head so that all he got was her cheek.

“No. I said no kissing,” she said harshly.

“But why?” Will asked confused.

“It’s the rules. Not the general rules of the house, but one of my rules. If you can’t abide that, then we stop here. Do you want to stop?”

Will shook his head.

“Okay, good. Shall we get started again?” CiCi smiled at him despite the disappointment etched clearly on his face.

She leaned forward again, and ran her tongue along the shell of his ear down to the fleshy lobe and bit it gently with her teeth. Will shivered as she continued downward to his neck and nibbled at the pulse point. He placed his hands at her trim hips. His hands glided along her warm flesh, so different from Angel’s cool skin. Her body was soft and silky beneath his hands, not hard and muscular like Angel’s. For a second time, he tried to will the images of Angel from his head.

CiCi sat up and arched her back, threading her fingers through her long, red curls. She stretched behind her back and with practiced ease unfastened her corseted top. As it fell off, she reached down for Will’s shaking hands, brought them up and placed them on her breasts.

Will inhaled sharply, and then his fingers started playing with the rosy pink nubs. CiCi reached down and palmed Will hardness. He closed his eyes tightly as she deftly undid his jeans and unceremoniously pulled him out. She scooted back and bent over. She ran her tongue up the length his cock and closed her mouth over the head. Will gasped and reached for her. She drew back and quickly, with obviously practiced precision, slipped his jeans down past his knees. She licked and nipped his chest. Somehow in the midst of his haze of overwhelming erotic sensation, he felt her fingers slip the condom on his painfully hard dick. She looked up at him then. “How do you want it?”

Will was embarrassed. “I…I…”

“Have you not done this before?” She asked, her voice slightly harsh and annoyed.

“Um…once…but…it was…Oh God…” He was trembling and blushing. Why did I come here? I don’t know what to do!

The girl’s face was a mask; her eyes were cold. There was no tenderness. Will remembered Angel’s soft voice, his gentle kisses. Suddenly, without removing her panties, she impaled herself on his cock. Her body was rigid and she didn’t hold onto him. She moved once, twice and Will erupted. More quickly than he could imagine, his dick softened and slipped out of her body. She got off of him, stood up, quickly redressed, fiddling with her clothes to right them. “That’s it. Time’s up.” She said and turned away from him to look in the mirror.

Will lay there too stunned to move. He closed his eyes and fought the tears that threatened to escape as he once again remembered images of Angel brushing his fingers up and down his…Spike’s thighs. Angel’s lips licking and kissing his body all the while telling Spike how beautiful he was; how he drove Angel mad with desire. They made love for hours. Spike impaling himself on Angel’s cock with a shout and then moaning in ecstasy. Angel thrusting hard into Spike over and over, both of them adoring each other; worshipping each other’s bodies with kisses, bites and gentle hands. He…Will…had never felt so loved. Even though it was Spike that Angel loved, Will felt the older vampire’s passion and devotion. He longed to feel that again.

“Come on, get dressed.” CiCi was staring at him unsmiling.

He grasped the condom, pulled it off and dropped it into a nearby basket. Hurriedly, he shimmied up his jeans although his fingers fumbled with the zipper. He sat up and she tossed him his shirt. He shrugged into it and stood. He turned away from her and tried to button his shirt but his hands trembled. His shirt still flying open, he stumbled from the room. I didn’t even take off my shoes!

“It’s okay, kid. You’re new at this. She’s on a time clock. Can’t take time to show you what to do,” Spike whispered in his thoughts.

Spike’s voice was soft and his normally mocking tone was gone. Will didn’t answer. He was mortified at his failure to perform and his quick eruption. He felt thirteen again when one or two strokes of his hand in the shower brought him off.

Although he had had touching and make-out sessions with a couple of young women in college, he had been a virgin before Spike took over his body. When Spike and Angel had sex, it hurt at first, but his body had responded and he felt the vampires’ passion and love as well as lust. Despite himself, he longed for that feeling of tenderness that they had felt for each other. He had never been with a woman before tonight. He didn’t know what to expect. It had not been loving of course. He knew it had been a business transaction, but, although he achieved physical release, he felt empty. He wanted to feel what he did when Spike had been with Angel. He wanted to fall asleep in the arms of his lover. He wanted…Will stopped and leaned against the wall of the building. His body felt hollow and he shuddered as he recalled the girl’s tiny hands as she slipped the condom on quickly and not too gently. She didn’t murmur soft words against in his ear as Angel did. Her hands didn’t gently roam over his body as Angel’s had. She didn’t kiss his heated skin with cool lips. She didn’t kiss him at all.

He tried to convince himself that sex with a hooker was not supposed to be tender. But he suddenly realized that sex with a woman was not what gave him pleasure. He yearned for powerful arms around him, holding him, keeping him safe, as huge hands gently caressed him with soft fingers, touching him, telling him his body was beautiful, looking at him with awe and love.

“Hey gorgeous, wanna fuck? Twenty euros.” Will started and opened his eyes. A tall woman eyed him and licked her lips. She was dressed in a tight silk dress and wore heavy make-up. As Will stared, he gasped inadvertently. She wasn’t a woman! His friends had talked and laughed on the way over about the many transvestites that strolled the Red Light District.

“Um…” Will stammered.

“Don’t do it…you’re not ready for this. He’ll bugger you, take your money, your plane ticket. Bloody hell!” Spike shrieked in his head.

Will felt so lost, so alone. He ignored Spike and walked closer to the she-man.

“You’re so pretty. Come on sugar, let me make you howl.” She…he winked at Will and reached out to rub his shoulder. When Will didn’t resist, the hooker grabbed his hand and pulled him into an alley. She/he opened a door and yanked Will inside a building. He could hear moans and shouts and curses coming from behind the doors in a long hall. She opened a door and shoved Will inside.

“I…I…no…thank you, but…” He stammered as he suddenly grew terrified.

“Bloody hell…got yourself into it, sodding stupid git!” Spike’s furious voice reverberated in his head.

The hooker laughed. “Oh no sugar, we had a deal, pay up.”

Will stared at her…him. He was much taller and heavier and Will had no fight left in him. Sex with the female hooker had been a disaster. He felt lost and alone. He reached into his pocket and pulled out some cash. “I’ve only got dollars.”

“Oh yeah! Good old U. S. of A! I’m from Chicago.”

The hooker took two twenties and although Will knew that that was more than twenty euros, he said nothing. Quicker than he could imagine, the she-man disrobed. Will started. The man was huge! Oh, God…Oh God. The tears that had been threatening since the fiasco with CiCi flooded his cheeks. He sobbed and gulped trying desperately to breathe. “I…I’m sorry…I’ve…I only did it once and I…”

“You were on the bottom?”

Will nodded, refusing to look up at the man. He spoke softly without raising his head. “Can I just go?”

“No sugar. You paid. You get.” The she-man’s big hands turned him around and pressed him down onto the tiny bed that smelled of wine and sex. She yanked his pants down and thrust a large finger deep inside his hole. Will gasped and shivered with a weird kind of pleasure when the finger thrust deeper. Suddenly the finger was gone and he felt a searing pain in his ass. Will screamed but the hooker thrust deeper twice more and then withdrew.

The hooker laughed. “Pull ‘em up, honey. Saw you coming out of CiCi’s window room. Didn’t look too satisfied. Thought you preferred taking it in the ass. You’re really tight. One time, huh?”

Tears continued to wet his face as Will struggled to zip his pants over his stiff erection.

Huge hands pushed his trembling fingers out of the way and grasped his cock. In three rough strokes, semen spurted across the bed. The same large hands zipped up his fly. “Go home, sugar, before you get hurt,” the hooker said quietly.

Will nodded but didn’t look up. He took another twenty out of his pocket and held it out. A large hand took the money while another hand squeezed his shoulder. “Go home, honey. You’re lookin for love not sex. Ain’t gonna find that here.”

Will stumbled out of the room. A loud voice shouted behind him. “Hey Dieter, get this kid a cab.”

By the time he got to the street, a cab stood waiting. Will got in and hissed when his ass touched the seat. “Torenzicht Hotel.” He said quietly and allowed the tears to flood his cheeks.

Will went up to the room that they had rented. He tore off his clothes and stood under the shower until it ran cold. He threw his dirty clothes into a trashcan and dressed quickly. He left $100 on the table for his share of the room, grabbed his suitcase and backpack and rode the elevator to the lobby. I…should have told them…damn!

When he got to the lobby he paused and went over to the front desk. “Um…I need to write a note…um for my friends.”

“Of course, sir.” The man handed him paper and an envelope with the hotel logo.

Will thanked him and walked over to a near-by table. He sat down and wrote a note for his friends and asked the concierge to give it to the young men in Room 207. He hurried outside and hopped into a cab requesting a ride to the airport. He sat in the airport for several hours until he could get a flight back to London, brutally biting his lips to hold back his tears.

“Don’t take on so. First time’s always scary.” Spike’s voice was soft. “Should have listened, kid. Knew you weren’t ready for…”

Tears spilled out of Will’s eyes as he whispered harshly. “Wasn’t ready for what? Taking it in the ass? No, I wasn’t ready for it when Angel did it!”

He looked up at the driver and saw that the man was looking at him in the rear-view mirror. He blushed and attempted a smile. “Nervous about flying.”

The man nodded and turned his glance back to the road.

The flight to London was uneventful and Spike was mercifully silent. When he arrived at the airport, he hired a long distance cab to drive him to the coven in Hertfordshire. The man seemed to know where he meant. He curled into the corner, rested his head against the seat and closed his eyes. When the images of Angel and his tender lovemaking drifted into his thoughts, Will’s tears refused to be stopped and he sobbed quietly. He must have fallen asleep because he opened his eyes when he felt a gentle hand shaking him. Clare’s kind eyes stared at him worriedly as she helped him out of the cab and led him inside the huge house. “I’ve felt your fear and sadness for days, Will. Do you want to talk now or sleep?”

“I…I need a shower and then…can you give me something to help me sleep and…and not dream?”

The gentle witch frowned at first and then smiled. “Come with me.”

Will drank the draught that Clare gave him and soon fell into a dreamless sleep. When he woke, he was startled to see a man sitting in the chair next to his bed. “Who…who are you?”

“Be still, A leanbh na páiret. My name is Dominic, I’m an angel.”

Will looked around wildly. “Did I die?”

Dominic smiled. “No, child. I’m a Sióchain angel. Sióchain means peace in Irish. It is my special job to watch over you and the vampire, Angel.”

“What? What do you mean? Oh, God. I am losing my mind. I hear voices, a ghost takes over my body, and an angel…Oh God!” Will dropped his head into his hands and cried.

The angel’s soft voice flowed over him:

Will quieted and looked up. His face was flushed and wet from his tears. “That’s…that’s beautiful. Why…why are you here?”

“To help you on the path to your destiny.” Dominic said as he smiled.

Will stiffened and sat up. “Destiny…why…why do you have anything to do with my destiny?”

“You are interconnected with Angel, child. He…”

Will interrupted, his face bright with anger. “Angel! Angel! He hates me! I came back. Spike…”

Dominic placed a hand on Will’s arm. “Sióchain, leanbh. Angel doesn’t hate you.” Dominic sighed. “We know you suffered with the images of Spike’s past. We know that you read the Watcher’s diaries of Spike’s past but you have not learned everything about the last year of his life. Angel and Spike grew closer their last year together, but they were both afraid of rejection and kept their true feelings hidden. Spike died and Angel mourned his loss by imprisoning his heart in ice. Angel is a champion and has spent a long time fighting the powers of darkness to make amends for his crimes as Angelus, although he doesn’t believe that he can ever be forgiven. Spike became a champion without his soul, earned his soul, and then gave his life to save the world. Angel gave up the Shanshu, the prophecy that said that one day he could become human. When Spike died in that alley, he shanshued and you were born.”

“I’m not Spike! I’m Will Tate!” Will shouted, his eyes furious.

“Yes, you are but you are also Spike.”

“No! No! I can’t be him. He’s…a vampire…he’s…he’s harsh!” Will replied. His voice quieted and the tears began to fall by the end of his protest.

“He acts tough and arrogant, but he’s soft on the inside.” Dominic answered as he tried to hide a smile.

“Hey, I’m not soft. What the hell is this? You’re tormentin’ the kid. Sod off! And why the bloody hell would angels be interested in vampires!” Spike screeched in Will’s head.

“You are gentle and kind in your heart, Spike, however unbeating it may be. There are many good demons in the world and it is the mission of the Sióchain to watch over them. But none are like you and Angel.” Dominic answered quietly.

“You heard me? And why the bloody hell have I never heard of you before?” Spike asked.

“As I told Angel, you each had to become who you were destined to be.”

“You told Angel? Bet he didn’t like that. Probably told you to piss off. Destiny is crap. You make your own decisions. There is no master plan. And why the hell didn’t you help before? When…when he lost his son…when Cordelia was lost to that god? Tore him to bloody pieces. He…he never got over their loss.” Spike replied, his voice furious at first, then sadly soft.

Dominic smiled. “We can’t intervene. Each man has to follow his own path; make his own decisions. You and Angel did and we were always watching. Angel struggled mightily with his guilt but strode on, refusing to stop fighting the powers of darkness. You suffered torture to earn your soul. You fought with the slayer and you sacrificed your life. You and Angel are true champions; selfless, compassionate and determined to protect those in need.”

“True champions? Bloody hell. If we’re so sodding wonderful. Why am I dead? Why couldn’t I stay with Angel? Why is he alone? That’s your thanks? Bugger that!”

The angel smiled again, totally unruffled by Spike’s tirade. Will sat silently in awe of the exchange, in awe of everything.

No one spoke for a moment and then Spike asked in a voice slightly tremulous. “So, what happened? Why did I come back in the kid’s body? Why did I have to go and…and break Angel’s heart?”

“You shanshued, Spike. You became a human; you became Will,” Dominic paused and smiled again and his eyes twinkled. “But, you are a unique man, Spike. You would not be silenced. You refused to relinquish your memories and they passed to Will. Your concern and love for Angel was too powerful and you fought your way back to him when Will was poisoned. You and Will are destined to become one man; one man to be with Angel so he won’t be alone. That is Angel’s reward and yours.”

Dominic waved his hand and Will slumped back on his pillow, deeply asleep. Spike’s essence slipped out of the young man and he stood in a vaporous ghostly form before the angel although his specter trembled with rage.

What the bloody hell are you doin’? Gonna drive that boy crazy. If you’ve been watchin’ me like you said, you must have seen me totally bonkers in the high school basement. You must have seen me tryin’ to cut the soul from my body. So distracted with guilt and whispered words from the First that I didn’t think I’d ever make it out of there. I wanted to stake myself half the time. Yammerin’, makin’ no sense. Seein’ pictures of the past. You can’t do that to the kid. He’s…he’s the innocent…If…if…look…if I can’t…if Angel and I can’t be together… maybe Will could… could see that he’s not alone.

The angel waved his hand again and Spike stood there in human form. The vampire staggered and then touched his body, a look of shock and awe raced across his face, quickly replaced by anger. Before he could speak, the angel began quietly.

“Spike you are truly a seaimpín, a champion. What you said just now is just one example of your selflessness. You were willing to disappear to protect the boy. You were willing to allow Will to be with Angel if you couldn’t be. I told you that you would not disappear. Your personality will be blended into his. He will be himself, but there will be parts of you in him that the world will see. The parts of you that will make him strong; make him willing to take risks; make him see things with your particularly honest vision that will enable him to be a complete person. You will not torment him with your taunts. Your voice will be, sort of like another coinsias, a conscience, if you will, although certainly not a judgmental one.” Dominic grinned and the twinkle was back in his eyes.

“It’s not goin’ to make him crazy?” Spike asked a bit suspiciously. “Haven’t had much experience trustin’ any sort of good spiritual being.”

“No, it’s going to make him a complete person who will be with Angel.” Dominic replied with a smile.

Spike nodded, quirked his eyebrow, smirked wickedly and disappeared.

Dominic sat for a little while watching Will sleep, marveling, as always, at the goodness of the two vampires.

When Will opened his eyes he was alone in the room, although he didn’t feel alone.

~Part: 23~

Angel had enjoyed his stay on Amagansett. He saw no one during his solitary strolls on the beach. Of course! Who else would be on the beach in the middle of the night in the early days of a Northeastern spring? Most college students were basking on the sand in Florida where it was already eighty degrees. He had seen no lights in any of the other nearby houses. He slept during the days and spent his evenings reading, sketching, sitting on the deck or walking for miles on the beach brooding. Faith called his cell phone once. She had been happy that he had gotten out of the city and he tried to sound upbeat as he talked, but he knew she wasn't fooled.

This evening, shortly after sunset, as he was relaxing on the back deck, he heard the crunch of car wheels on the gravel at the front of the house and then approaching footsteps. He stiffened and stood up from the deck chair.

A young policeman appeared from the side of the house. “Evening, sir. You’re Professor McDonagh?”

“Yes, do you need to see my driver’s license?”

“No, sir. Just checking. Knew you were expected. No one else is about. Too cold yet for most people. Evening," he said and turned to walk back to the front of the house.

Angel heard the car wheels spin back onto the road. He took off his shoes and socks and walked on the narrow boardwalk through the dunes to the beach. He stood for a long while staring at the waves crashing onto the sand, illuminated by the pale moonlight. As always, thoughts of Spike refused to remain imprisoned in the far depths of his mind. The younger vampire’s face slipped from beneath the bonds of memory that Angel had tried to forget. Forget? No one can forget Spike. He remembered how quickly he charmed Fred when he first arrived at Wolfram and Hart. Charmed Fred! He charmed everyone. He knew everyone’s name and was always welcome in every office and invited to every party. Unlike me. I made no effort to get to know anyone.

Guilt gripped his heart in her fingers and with each memory of loss she tightened her hold. Guilt made him aloof. Spike accepted the guilt of his actions as a demon and moved on when he got his soul. He didn’t allow her to squeeze every ounce of peace out of him as Angel had.

Angel began to walk on the sand and with each footstep images of Spike drifted into his thoughts as they did every evening. Spike newly turned refusing to seek the approval of Angelus. He had his own ideas and was unafraid to give them voice, despite the usually vicious response from either Darla or Angelus. No amount of beating ever broke him, and even as a demon, Spike had a capacity for love and forgiveness that amazed Angelus. Darla was infuriated by these remnants of humanity and by his disrespect. Angelus usually meted out his Sire’s punishment on the arrogant vampire, which then usually ended in a brutal rape. Angelus would never admit that Spike could thrill him more than anyone else in their couplings. Darla would have immediately staked Spike if she had an inkling of his effect on Angelus. She probably would have staked him as well. Darla demanded his total devotion.

Angel tried to force the painful memories out of his consciousness but they clung to him. St. Petersburg. He and Spike on their own, while Darla and Drusilla charmed the Czar’s court. But Spike, of course, had brought unwanted attention to them. The younger vampire sat uninvited at the table of a young woman in a tavern. Angelus joined them and wine flowed freely. Her father and brothers arrived and took offense. A brawl ensued and during the battle, their vampire faces emerged. Chaos reigned and Angelus dragged Spike from the tavern into the snow covered street followed closely by all of the men, emboldened by drink. Their vampire speed enabled them to outrun the mob, but they didn’t know the city well enough to hide quickly and safety. As they passed a barn, they slipped inside, hoping that their pursuers would run by, not stopping to search. Angelus found a coiled length of slender wire and the two vampires hurried further into the rabbit warren of alleys. They stood together in the center of one tiny thoroughfare and waited. Soon the mob of furious, drunken peasants found them. They charged and Angelus and Spike stepped apart. When the first five men reached them, the sharp wire severed their heads. In the stunned silence that followed, Angelus and Spike escaped. Fortunately, they recognized a nearby street and entered the home they had commandeered. They drank and toasted each other and slept the day away. Darla had been suspicious of their camaraderie but neither of them revealed their escapade. Angelus cajoled Darla into leaving Russia for Vienna immediately with promises of beautiful gowns and festive parties.

Angel’s memories were always bittersweet and always awash in guilt. All of his family were gone – Penn, Darla, and Spike. Then there was Drusilla. Angel didn’t know whether or not she was still around. He had been given a brief glimpse of the possibility of a life with Spike, but it had been snatched away by whatever powers still held him in their hands; still punishing him for his horrific days as one of the most vicious vampires who ever existed. Again he tried to close his mind to the images from his past. William, trying to hide his struggles with his new demon life, furtively sought comfort from Angelus when the women were away. The younger vampire paced about the bedroom he usually shared with Drusilla. When William thought that Angelus was asleep, he would slip silently into the huge bed that the older vampire shared with Darla and slowly move closer until his body touched the larger vampire’s. He would carefully move his arm until it lay gently across Angelus’ broad chest. Only then would he fall asleep, breathing deeply as he had when he was human. Angelus had been startled the first time, but found that the boy’s quiet presence soothed him and he found a far more peaceful sleep. As soon as Angelus stirred, William would quickly slip out of the bed and leave the room. Neither of them ever spoke about William’s need for comfort and all too soon, Angelus’ brutality destroyed their connection. The older vampire…he, Angelus…would never admit the deprivation he felt when William’s daytime visits ended and his anger at that weakness made him even more vicious in his punishments of the boy.

Shaking off the harsh memories of his evil past, Angel walked purposefully toward the shore and allowed the waves to splash over his feet, but the cold ocean would not wash away the thoughts of Spike. Ever determined, Spike held tightly onto Angel’s thoughts and refused to leave and the ache in his unbeating heart grew. He could see Spike’s face glistening through his tears and he whispered. Tá mo chroi istigh lonat. Níl toradh ar seo. Níl toradh ar seo. Cronaím thú.

“Tráthnóna maith duit! Dia is Muire dhuit”

Angel started and spun toward the voice. He had not heard footsteps. Am I so lost in dreams that I can no longer feel a presence? He stared at the man. Dominic! The Sióchain angel!

The man smiled. “Will you not respond to my greeting, Angel?”

Angel stiffened, clenched his fists and growled. “Why are you here?”

“Remember our conversation in the bar?” Dominic asked quietly.

“Yes!” Angel hissed. “You said someone would relieve my loneliness. You didn’t say that Spike would return and then…leave. The boy was…he was horrified by…” He trailed off and looked away.

Dominic placed a hand on Angel’s arm and smiled. “We did not expect that. Spike is…”

“Spike was.” Angel interrupted angrily as he shook off Dominic’s hand. “He was here and now he’s gone and Will…he is even more tormented by his memories.”

“Angel, Spike’s love for you was far more powerful than we imagined. He is truly your anamcara. When Will was poisoned, Spike defied all the rules and returned to you.”

Angel smiled briefly at Dominic’s comment and he whispered. “Spike always defied the rules.” His smile disappeared and he faced the angel, his eyes flickering into the gold of the demon. When he spoke, his voice was soft and dangerous. “We had a little time together. Time to allow us to realize the depth of our…lo…need for each other and then he was gone! Your little prophecy is like all the others, it’s false!”

“Sióchain, Angel. I didn’t tell you that Spike would be with you. I said that someone would come to ease your loneliness…Will.”

Angel’s face grew dark with rage. “Will is human! I am a vampire! I’ve done this before and it failed.”

“Ah, yes, the slayer. She was not meant for you and you realized that yourself. You gave her up to protect her.”

“Being with Buffy was perhaps possible because she was a supernatural being as well as a human. Will is only human.”

“Yes, he’s human but he is not only human," the angel said quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Spike would not release his hold on Will. He refused to leave you. His love for you is so strong that we have allowed him and Will to blend into one being.”

“What?! You’ve destroyed that poor boy! What kind of angel are you? How could you allow an innocent to…to suffer like this? He’ll…he’ll hear voices…he’ll go crazy! You must know what happened to Spike after he sought his soul. Don’t do this…don’t do this, please. I’d…I’ll be alone…I’ve been alone for a long time. Please…don’t destroy the boy.”

Dominic looked into the anguish on Angel’s face and saw the tears glittering in his dark eyes. He touched the vampire’s cheek and for some reason Angel did not jerk away. “Spike said the same thing. He didn’t want the boy to suffer mentally and emotionally for you to be together. Do you not see? You and Spike were willing to give up any chance for happiness to protect an innocent boy. I’ll tell you what I told Spike, Angel. You are truly a seaimpín. You are selfless, compassionate and determined to protect those in need.”

Angel shook his head and spoke softly. “That may be, but, Will is a human young man, who should have a life of happiness on his own, with other humans.” Suddenly, Angel’s face contorted again in anger, his jaw clenched as he bit out his words. “He should not have a demon involved in his life! I will not intrude in his life. Will is another victim in the machinations of whatever vicious Powers That Be still exist. He needs to have his own life; a normal life with no demons, or powers or angels or anything else fucking it up. He deserves to have his own destiny. I have mine!”

Angel glared at Dominic and barked. “Go away, leave me alone. Leave Will alone. Allow him to make a life for himself. Everyone is entitled to that.” He stared angrily at the angel for a long moment and then turned and ran back to the house.

Dominic stood for a long time staring out at the ocean. Storm clouds and lightning suddenly appeared in the sky. He looked back at the house where Angel was staying and said quietly as he disappeared, “Siochan leat, Angel. Rath Dé ort!” Heavy rain, wind and bright slashes of lightning began to batter the beach.

Angel glanced out from his heavily curtained bedroom window and smiled grimly. “Sióchain! I’ll never have peace and I guess I’ve just pissed off another set of powers. Go hifreann leat! Go dtachta an diabhal tu!”

He wandered through the house checking the many windows and doors for signs of breakage, but fortunately he had left the shutters on most of them closed. Angel watched the powerful spring storm as it whipped the sea into a frenzy of tumultuous whitecaps. The cold, heavy rain slashed against the beach house rattling the glass slightly despite the heavy wooden shutters. The furious wind screamed harshly and violently tossed granules of sand like missiles against the wood siding. He took out one of the bottles of whiskey that he brought with him and sat in a wooden rocking chair in front of the wall of glass in the living room that overlooked the beach. The reeds on the dunes bent almost perpendicular as the rain and wind pounded them unmercifully evoking images of the battle in the dilapidated opera house in the desert. He and Spike had beaten each other brutally. They had flung jealous and vicious accusations at each other until Spike won their combat. Spike was the champion and his reward was a fake cup of bitter disappointment.

The whiskey made him tired and the fractured kaleidoscope of images from his past wore him out. He stumbled up the stairs into his bedroom and fell onto the bed but his sleep brought him no peace. His memories tortured his mind and soul. He awoke mid-afternoon, exhausted and angry. The rain and wind were still flinging themselves against the house. He got up and peered carefully through a slit in the drapes. Black storm clouds heavy with moisture scudded across the mottled grey sky, pierced only with brilliant shafts of lighting; no rays of sun could slip through. The ocean had flooded the beach and sent fingers of salt water through the break in the dunes to explore the boardwalk to the house. He pulled on clothes, hurried downstairs and raced into the garage. He threw on rain gear, stuffed his feet into tall rubber boots, and opened a storage compartment that he knew contained bags of sand. He made several trips outside, and created a chest high barrier between the dunes.

Covered in sand and wet with salt spray, Angel hurried back inside. He removed the outerwear and hung it to dry on the pegs in the garage. As he walked into the laundry room, he stripped down to his boxers and tossed his sodden clothes into the washer. He padded upstairs, removed his boxers and stood for a long while under the gentle spray of the shower, soaping and rinsing his body and hair several times. He dressed in house pants and a warm sweater and peered through the drapes to see if what he built was successfully keeping the ocean from the house. So far, his wall of sand bags was working. He couldn’t see even a small rivulet of water maneuvering through the barrier. He went downstairs to make tea and warm some blood and carried the mugs into the living room. He sank into the rocking chair and rested his tired muscles as he kept a vigilant eye on the boardwalk. He must have dosed because he was startled awake by his phone ringing.

“Hello? Oh, Jed…Not so far. I made a barrier with the sandbags you had ready…No trouble, I’m glad I was here…I was going to leave tonight, but I’ll stay…Are you sure?...Okay, I’ll wait until late tonight to be certain…Thanks again…I’ll call you tomorrow…good-bye.”

As Angel hung up, he heard the crunch of tires outside. He got up and walked to the front window. A police car stood in the driveway. He opened the door slightly and was immediately assaulted by wind and blowing sand. The policeman, covered in rubber rain gear battled the wind gusts and came toward the house. Angel opened the door wider.

The young man had to shout to be heard over the roar of the storm. “Everything, okay? Power’s out in most places.”

“I’m fine. Jed Cardiff has a back-up generator, but I haven’t lost power yet. I made a barrier out back with sand bags,” Angel responded.

“That’s good. Mr. Cardiff is lucky you were here. Some properties have flooded.”

Although Angel didn’t want his company, he felt obligated to offer the young cop something warm to drink. “Um…I can offer you a cup of tea…”

“No thanks, got a thermos in the cruiser. Will you be here long?”

“No, I planned to leave tonight. I’ve talked to Jed,” Angel answered.

“Okay. I’ll keep an eye on the place. Storm should blow itself out soon. See ya, professor.” He nodded and returned to his car.

The rain and wind lessened slightly while Angel packed the car. As he drove carefully out of town on the sand swept road, he could see that the sea had breached the dunes in several places. Quite a few houses had lost shutters and roof shingles; a few had broken windows. Expensive landscaping was drowned in salt water. Although the storm was losing strength, the last gasps of wind continued to shriek and toss sand about until he left the island. He thought of Spike as he drove and Will’s furious face stalked into his mind. Angel winced as he remembered the boy’s accusations and hurt. He tried to push all thoughts from his mind and muttered bitter curses at the mercurial and often evil powers that tormented humans and vampires alike.

Angel walked into the classroom and immediately glanced toward the back. His searching dark eyes found Will’s blue ones. They stared briefly at each other and Angel turned away.

“Good evening. I hope you all had a restful spring break.” He smiled and raised his eyebrows. Most of the students laughed. Spring break wasn’t usually a period of rest and many of them had sun-burned faces. “Tonight we begin with the Renaissance period in Art. We will have time to touch on only a few of the major artists in class, but you are required to read the two chapters in your text on the period. There will be a test on the artists listed on the handout you will receive tonight. You must choose one artist for your in depth paper. I want to know your choice by next class. We need to have a variety, so let me know your choice as soon as possible to ensure you get the artist you want to research.”

Angel flicked on the power to the slide projector. “Turn out the lights, please.”

“Early Renaissance Art began in Florence, Italy in the 15th century. Donatello was a master sculpture in marble and bronze,” Angel began.

He lectured and showed slides of Donatello, Botticelli, Uccello and Bellini. “Lights, please. During the next two classes we will study the works of artists of the High Renaissance with which you are more familiar – da Vinci, Michaelangelo, Raphael and Titian. The following class will cover the Dutch Renaissance artists – Van Eyck, Brugel, Durer and one artist of the period who is perhaps the most intriguing, Hieronymus Bosch. Remember, look over your text and let me know quickly which artist you have chosen for your paper. Thank you. Good night.”

Angel was gathering his notes when he felt a presence near the desk. He tensed and looked up, already certain who was there. Will stood before him. “Professor, I…I’d like to do my paper on Bosch. I’ve already done a little reading about him.”

“Fine. He is intriguing but his work can also be upsetting for students.”

They stared at each other for a long moment and then Angel realized another student had approached. He turned his head away from Will. He smiled and began to speak with one of his best students although he knew Will’s eyes were riveted on his face. “Alayna, have you decided?”

“Yes, professor," she said grinning happily.

“Let me guess,” Angel said with a kind smile, trying to ignore the waves of emotion emanating from Will. “It has to be either Michelangelo or da Vinci.”

The pretty redhead laughed. “Michelangelo. Jeremy wants da Vinci desperately. He’s already started his research. I’m supposed to tell you. He went home to California and his plane was delayed due to weather.”

Angel noted the choices in his notebook. “Thanks, professor, see you!”

Angel smiled at the girl, who returned his smile brightly, nodded to Will and left. Angel shoved his paperwork in his briefcase and picked up the slide carousel. He glanced at Will. “Is there something else?” he asked quietly, noticing the dark circles under Will's lovely blue eyes.

“Is there something else?” Will asked sharply. “I…I need to talk to you.”

“It’s late, Will. Make an appointment with the secretary. You know my office hours…”

“Bugger your office hours!” he retorted and then blanched. “I’m…I’m sorry…I…”

He turned and hurried from the classroom. Angel stood perfectly still. He could have sworn his heart was beating wildly in his chest as he recalled what Dominic had told him on the beach. He had said that Will and Spike would blend together to become one complete being. Will had sounded exactly like Spike just then. Oh God! This…no…no…I can’t… The vampire sank into his chair and held his head in his hands. He sat there remembering his brief time with Spike, Will’s anger and disgust the morning after they had made love, Will’s attempt to seduce him. This can’t be…why…

“Professor, you all right?”

The voice startled him out of his reverie and he looked up. The night custodian, Henry, stood there looking at him with concern.

Angel stood up. “Um…yes…sorry…had a sudden headache. I’m…it’s better now. Good night, Henry.”

“Night, sir.”

Angel walked quickly to his office, put the slides in his closet, shrugged on his coat and walked the few blocks to his apartment. It had grown much colder and he felt the unsettled weather. When the elevator door opened on his floor, he knew that Will was in the hall. They stared at one another. Will’s normally pale face was flushed and his eyes were bright with tears. Angel could see that his body was trembling. Oh God…I can’t do this! He…he needs…

“Will,” Angel said softly, “you shouldn’t be here.”

Will began to speak, his eyes pleading, his voice raspy and tremulous. “I…I know…I know you don’t…want me…but…”

Angel sighed. He smelled the whiskey that the boy obviously drank before he came. Angel withdrew his key, opened the door and stepped aside, nodding that he should enter. Will’s gait was unsteady as he walked into the apartment. Angel followed. The younger man had gone to stand in front of the huge window wall, staring out at the leaden clouds swirling across the black sky.

Angel took off his coat and laid his briefcase on his desk. He walked over to the fireplace and bent to light the logs that rested there. A blaze erupted quickly. He turned and saw Will staring at the gloomy sky, his body visibly shaking as he watched the pale stars flickering as they tried to pierce the foreboding darkness.

Angel put water on to boil. “Will, come, sit by the fire.”

The boy turned and Angel almost gasped at the desperation he saw on his face. He walked toward Angel, never taking his eyes from the vampire’s face. He sank onto the sofa, slipped off his shoes and huddled into the corner. Angel made tea and carried the mugs into the living room. He handed one to Will and then sat in the chair across from him. They sat quietly for a long time, sipping tea. Angel watched the boy and Will stared into the flames.

Finally, Will began to speak so quietly than without his vampire hearing, Angel did not think he would have been able to hear him. “I…I went to…Amsterdam with…school….” He paused and looked intently at Angel. “Spike had been there. He was happy to go. I saw…women in rooms…red lights…undressed…I…my friends left…I…I didn’t know what to do…she had red hair…I…I didn’t know what to do…she laughed.” He looked up then, and Angel saw the tears wetting his thin cheeks. “A woman…man really…it hurt…like….” He shook and unsuccessfully tried to hold back a sob. “N…no kissing…no…no tenderness…not…not like you.” He stammered as he clenched his hands into tight fists. “Not…not…like you.” He repeated and held his head in his hands as his entire body convulsed into sobs.

Without thinking, Angel got up and went to him. He sat next to Will and wrapped his arms around him, rubbing his hand up and down his spine. Will turned and pressed his face into Angel’s chest. He clung tightly to the vampire. They sat that way for a long while until Will’s tears subsided and the boy fell asleep. Angel held the boy throughout the night although he worried that he was only making things worse. He mulled over what he should do; what was best for Will? Should he be harsh and push him away? Should he contact Morgana…or Willow? Try to see about a forgetting spell? He shuddered, remembering long ago, when the oracles turned back time and Buffy forgot their one night together. Only he remembered their tender, passionate lovemaking; only he remembered the warmth of their closeness. But that night was overshadowed by his night with Spike.

His anamcara, Dominic said. Dominic! Could he contact the angel? Could he beg him to take all memories of him from Will? But Dominic said Spike was there. Spike would never give up. Every time he looked at Will, he saw Spike. He longed for Spike, but not at the cost of Will’s life. Spike wouldn’t want that. He didn’t want that. It felt so good to hold Will, but his body was warm. His heart beat; he breathed. He wasn’t Spike. He wasn’t a vampire. He had a fragile, human body; a fragile human heart. Spike! Spike! Give up, Spike. Let the boy have his own life, away from me. Away from the darkness.

Finally Angel slept. He rested his head on the back of the sofa but his arms never slipped from Will’s body. When he opened his eyes, Will was staring at him, a small smile on his full, sensual lips. “Haven’t slept that good in a while, Angel. Not since the last time we slept together. Must be your big body; better than a mattress.” He grinned.

Angel started. “Spike?”

“No…it’s Will, but sometimes I seem…Spike is…I’m him too.” The young man said, a slightly puzzled expression on his face. “It’s been a bit disconcerting.”

Angel stood up. He glanced at the grandfather clock as it began to chime. It was after noon. “I’m…I’m sorry…I…you…You need to go back to your apartment, Will.”

Will stiffened. “But…but you…”

Angel brushed his hand through his hair. “You…you were sad…hurting. I…I worried…Will, you have to find your own life, a human life.”

Will stood, his eyes blazing with both fear and anger. “Make me a vampire then. I…I can’t live without you…I can’t and Spike can’t. We…we want to be with you…Make me a vampire, please…”

Angel was horrified. “No….no. I…never…you don’t know what…”

“Angel, stop, being a vamp isn’t so bad.”

“Spike?” Angel asked, clenching his hands into fists.

“I told you….the angel…Spike and I…It’s me and Spike. Dominic said…”

“No…no…” The anguish in Angel’s voice was obvious. “You’re not Spike…you’re not Spike….I…I love Spike…not…not you. Go!” He turned away and hurried into his bedroom.

Will heard the click of the door lock. Tears filled his eyes but suddenly he straightened and he spoke in a strong, determined voice; Spike’s voice. “I don’t give up, Angel. I won’t give you up. I found you again and I won’t give you up.”

Will did not approach Angel for the next several classes. Angel hoped that it meant that the young man was resigned; would give up his attempts to be with him. But if any part of Will were Spike, he knew the younger vampire’s steadfast determination when it was something he wanted.

One evening after class, Angel didn’t want to return to his lonely apartment. He walked over to McSorely’s. An Irish trio was playing and Angel allowed the cheerful music of his heritage wash over him. He felt Will’s presence before he saw him. A vibrating energy emanated from him. Angel looked up. Will walked toward his table and sat down uninvited. The two men stared at each other for several moments.

Finally Will smirked. Spike’s smirk! Angel started and the smirk on Will’s pale face slipped into a mischievous grin. He quirked his eyebrow. It was not scarred as the younger vampire’s had been, but the mocking lift of his brow was pure Spike.

“Angel, you know I won’t give up. Not after that night with you. Not after I finally know how you feel about me. I’ve waited for almost two hundred years for you to…to show that you…you love me. I’ll wait, but I’ll not be quiet about it. I’ll nag, Angel, and you know that I’m damn good at that!”

Spike’s blue eyes twinkled although tears blurred their brightness. He stood up, cast a longing look at Angel and slipped through the crowded bar and out the door. Angel sat perfectly still, his hands clenched tightly around his half-filled glass. It shattered suddenly and whiskey spilled over the worn table. Shards of glass pierced Angel’s skin and sparkled in the dark wet stain of the liquor. A young woman passing by the table noticed and hurried toward him. Angel sat transfixed, staring at the mess.

The woman mopped up the liquid with napkins, sneaking furtive, concerned glances at the handsome, obviously distracted man. “Sir, you’ve cuts on your hand. You should go to the clinic around the corner, let them take out the bits of glass. Sir?”

Finally, Angel blinked and came back from the depths of his past memories. He looked at the woman and then down at his hand. Blood seeped from several cuts and slivers glinted in the pale light of the tavern. He stood. “Ah…thank you…I’ll go…”

She handed him a napkin. “Here, wrap this around your hand to staunch the blood.”

Angel took the napkin, nodded to the young woman, walked out of the tavern and hurried to his apartment. The napkin was dark with his blood. He held his hand under cold water and hissed at the sting. He grabbed a towel, sat down at the table and began to pick out the slivers of glass. Several were rather deep. He sprayed on antiseptic, wrapped his hand in gauze and heated some blood.

Angel sat throughout the night in front of his large window thinking about Will, remembering Spike. The ache in his hand was nothing compared to the ache in his heart. Across the street, Will stood for several hours watching Angel through his telescope as Spike’s memories careened through his mind. Finally, he succumbed to exhaustion, staggered inside and collapsed on his bed.

“So Professor, you’re taking a sabbatical?”

“Yes, I’m going to Ireland. I’m going to visit some colleagues at Trinity College in Dublin first and then do a bit of traveling and studying. I hope to incorporate more about the artists of Ireland, Scotland and Wales into my classes. They’re rarely mentioned in any art course.” Angel answered.

“You’re leaving soon?” The secretary asked.

“Yes, as soon as I turn my grades in. Here’s the rest of the paperwork and the office key.”

Angel nodded and left the office. He stiffened slightly when he felt a presence but when he looked down the hall it was empty. He went to his tiny office and finished entering his grades into the computer. When he came to Will’s name, he paused, remembering the young man’s paper on Hieronymus Bosch. As Angel began to read the paper, he froze. Will’s writing was similar to Spike’s. It wasn’t exactly like the newly turned William’s flowery poetry, but the language had the same passion; the same imaginative description.

Angel glanced around his office once more. He had already removed his personal possessions. He turned off the light, shut the door and walked back to his apartment. He showered and dressed. As he looked around the bedroom, he closed his eyes. Spike’s scent always hovered in the air. In his mind, he often saw the younger vampire sprawled sensuously on the bed. Angel shook himself and left the room. He made one final check of the apartment.

Although Spike had been there for such a short time, Angel could see him everywhere – lounging on the sofa; studying the film titles on the shelves. Spike was there but images of Will intruded. He saw him feverish and sick after his beating by the demons. He saw the boy’s terrified and furious face as he stared at him the morning after he and Spike made love. Leave. Wait for the cab downstairs. Get away from these memories. I’ll never escape. The faces from my past will haunt me forever.

Angel forced himself out of his reverie, picked up his bags and left the apartment. When he arrived in the lobby, he saw a cab parked outside.

“Ah, Professor. I just called up for you. Have a good trip.”

“Thank you. I’ll be gone for several months. Mary has my keys.” Angel nodded and smiled, walked outside and got into the cab.

The flight was uneventful and Angel arrived at his hotel in the early evening. He left his room and strolled over to the campus of Trinity College. He walked around for a while and then crossed the road to Doyle’s. He could never look at the sign without seeing his old friend’s grinning face and hearing the lilt in his voice. The music in the bar was loud and the place was crowded even though many students had left for the summer holiday. He ordered a Jameson’s and searched for an empty table. He spied one way in the back of the room. He sat for a while, sipping the whiskey and soaking up the atmosphere as the students always said. Suddenly, he felt a tension and looked up. Will was striding purposefully toward him.

The two men stared at each other for a long moment. Will tore his eyes away from Angel’s and sat down uninvited.

“What are you doing here, Will?”

“I told you I’m not giving up, Angel. I overheard you talking about your sabbatical. I followed you. I knew you’d visit Trinity. As soon as I saw the name of the bar, shadowy images of an Irish man named Doyle appeared in my mind. I came to the bar last night but you hadn’t arrived. I knew you would, eventually.” Will smiled.

Angel had startled as Will was speaking. The tone of voice was Will’s but the almost arrogant attitude was Spike’s and it was Spike’s memories that revealed Doyle.

“Spike?”

“Angel, it’s Will…but Spike…Spike is here. He doesn’t yell at me anymore, he’s just here, with me. His memories are mine now and…and I feel so much stronger; not afraid. Bloody hell, it’s complicated.”

Angel didn’t answer. Will began to speak as himself but by the end, he was more Spike.

“Are you….how does it make you feel?” Angel asked.

“A little disconcerted. I have more of his memories than my own. Of course, he lived for almost two hundred years. I’ve only lived twenty-five.” He grinned. “His memories are far more exciting than mine.”

“But…but what about the…the vampire…” Angel trailed off.

“Angel, will you stop? Sometimes the images are brutal, but always I know that they were done by Spike when he was a demon. A demon who sought his soul; who became a champion, like you.”

Angel was quiet for a long time. He stared into Will’s luminous blue eyes. They seemed to be old eyes, Spike’s eyes.

He lowered his voice to a growling whisper. “I will never make you a vampire, Will. Never!”

“I got that, Angel.”

Angel continued in his angry whisper. “You’re human. You should be with humans, away from demons and…darkness.”

“Buggering hell, Angel. The only darkness in you is that you can’t go out in the sun and you wear a lot of black. Your soul is brighter than most humans, you stubborn ponce!”

Angel sat back, stunned. That comment was pure Spike, but it was Will who was sitting across from him.

Will’s eyes softened as he placed his warm hand over Angel’s cold one. “I’m here, Angel. I want to be with you, only with you. I want to live with you…for as long as my human life lasts. Will you show me Ireland?”

Angel stared at Will. The young man had said it was disconcerting to be two people. It was disconcerting. Will was much like William when he had first been turned. Then, suddenly he became Spike, the brash persona the younger vampire adopted because Angelus and Darla had been furious at his tender tendencies and attempted to beat and torture his gentleness into the proper viciousness for a vampire.

Angel’s longing for Spike overpowered his concern for Will; overpowered his sense of what he believed to be the best course for the human young man. He had lived close to three hundred years, half of them as Angelus, the evil nemesis of good; half as the tormented, souled demon. In that long life, he had experienced only brief snatches of joy and Will and Spike had brought him most of that joy. Although he told Dominic that he was used to being alone, the loneliness often crushed him, burying him under regret and loss.

Suddenly he clasped Will’s hand between his own and smiled. “You’ve worn me down as only Spike could.” He frowned at the hopeful expression on the young man’s face. “We’ll see how it goes, Will. If…you…if ever you want to…”

“I won’t,” Will interrupted. “I won’t and Spike won’t.”

Translations of the Gaelic expressions:

Tá mo chroi istigh lonat – My heart is with you.

Níl toradh ar seo. Níl toradh ar seo – Forgive me

Cronaím thú – I miss you

Tráthnóna maith duit – Good evening

Dia is Muire dhuit – God and Mary be with you

Sióchain - Peace

Seaimpín – Champion

Anamcara – soul friend or soul mate

Siochan leat, Angel – Peace be with you, Angel

Rath Dé ort – Grace of God be with you

Go hifreann leat - To hell with you!

Go dtachta an diabhal tu- May the devil choke you!

~Part: 24~

Angel awakened slowly. Keeping his eyes closed, he reveled in the warmth of the slender body next to him. He always woke like this; taking his time, remembering that he was no longer alone. He could not imagine a life without Will. Opening his dark eyes, he glanced down at Will’s arm resting gently across his chest. He gazed at the light brown hair, softly tussled as the young man, who had so altered his life, slept soundly at his side. Will…Spike. He was a combination of the two and although it often unsettled him, especially in the beginning when the human, Will, spoke in Spike’s arrogant tone, or smirked mischievously at something, the gentleness of both the human and the vampire soothed his troubled soul and filled his unbeating heart with rapturous joy.

They were back in New York, after months of travel and a brief, painful separation. Angel turned his mind back to their journey in Ireland and he smiled as he remembered. “Will you show me Ireland?” Will had asked. He sighed softly at the memory of Will’s request. He had been afraid of so many things but the trip had blossomed into an unexpectedly wonderful experience. He had initially been forceful about sleeping during the day and going out only at night. He wanted to make sure Will knew the risks of being with a vampire who couldn’t go out in the sun. Spike had pushed his way into Will’s speech and body language. Will stood, hands on hips, blue eyes flashing with displeasure. “Bloody hell, Angel, you are a git! Think I’m gonna leave you cause you can’t go out in the sodding sun?” The snarl quickly turned into a smirk and Will sidled up to him, placing his hands on Angel’s chest. “Sun ain’t good for no one. You wouldn’t want this soft body all dry and shriveled with sunburn, now would ya?”

Angel swore his heart pounded for a moment as he stared at the leering face of the younger man. The smirk was replaced with Will’s sweet smile and he reached up and placed a gentle kiss on Angel’s lips.

Both of them had adjustments to make. Angel because of how, initially, Spike and Will seemed separate. It was startling when Will spoke in Spike’s harsh voice and Cockney accent. Despite what Spike said, it had been difficult for Will at first too, especially because Ireland in the summer had very long days. The sun didn’t set until almost nine o’clock. But eventually Will’s body clock ticked in tune with his and eventually the two personalities blended more seamlessly.

Angel lay still, recalling yet again, their journey in the land where he had been born so long ago. Since they were in Dublin, they began their exploration in the city he had come to love in his years at Trinity College. They had visited almost every pub in the city and Will quickly learned the words to the various songs and happily participated in the songfests. He became a favorite with his good looks, magnetic blue eyes and enthusiastic friendliness. After long evenings in the pubs, drinking and singing until almost dawn, Will became acclimated to daytime sleeping. He quickly made obvious overtures to Angel, but the vampire resisted, insisting that Will sleep in the other bed alone. He wanted Will to be sure of what he wanted. This brought out the volatile Spike-part of Will again. He grimaced as he remembered the altercation.

“Bloody hell, Angel, will you cut the sackcloth act? I’m not as fragile as you think!”

“Will, your body is human. If I…I don’t want to…lose control. You said that…that it hurt in Amsterdam.”

“Course it hurt. This body isn’t used to being used…um…having sex with anyone. It hurt when Spike was a new vampire too…didn’t stop you then…Oh…Angel, I’m…”

Angel had flushed and turned away from Will as the memories of his brutality with the fledgling William flooded painfully into his thoughts. Will followed him and pressed his body against Angel’s back. “I’m sorry…I…I should’ve stopped…I …I don’t have total control yet…Spike’s still pretty powerful inside my head sometimes.”

They stood that way for several minutes and then Angel turned around and hugged Will. He rested his forehead against Will’s and the two men stared at each other. “It’s okay, Will. Spike…Spike was a very…determined vampire. He’d try to wear me down to get what he wanted.”

Will smiled mischievously. “Did it work?”

Angel returned the smile. “Sometimes.”

Angel was just as determined to make sure Will wasn’t allowing his persistent, newly awakened sexual needs blind him to reality. Will pouted when he was refused but after several failures to coax Angel into his bed, he acquiesced, apparently understanding the vampire’s decision to go slowly.

As he watched Will sleep in the beginning days of their journey; as he watched his chest rise and fall and listened to the beat of his human heart, Angel hoped that he was not endangering the young man. He silently begged Dominic, the Sióchain angel, that this was the right thing. He couldn’t bear to hurt Will. He had hurt so many over his long life with his arrogant selfishness, his soulless brutality, and his wretched need to destroy everything that was good. Will had given him hope; hope that his long life would not be spent alone; that he was worthy of being loved. Was it too much to hope for? He could never make up for his days as Angelus. Would Will suddenly be taken from him? Were Dominic’s promises part of another horrific cosmic joke?

Angel struggled to hide his fears, but Will knew, or more likely, the part of him that was Spike knew. Angelus, with his Irish superstitions, believed Spike had powers of perception that no one else had. How else did he always know when Angelus needed patience, humorous cajoling, or tenderness? Spike was the only one who ever understood what was in his heart, and Angelus, of course, punished him viciously for that knowledge. Angelus was afraid that he would lose what little control he had over Spike, if the younger vampire discovered his weaknesses. Spike never revealed anything; no matter what Angelus had done to him.

Angel worried about having sex with Will. He was human and far more fragile than a vampire. Their one night together when Spike had been in charge of his human body had been glorious, but Will had suffered physically, although he tried to hide it. Angel shuddered. The memory of the morning after when Will reappeared, hurt, angry, terrified, and shamed, haunted him. He frequently cursed his inability to resist sending Will away, forcing him out of his life. To be truthful, he desperately wanted the young man in his life; not just for the physical gratification that he had long gone without, but for the companionship. Will was fun, enthusiastic, sweet and willing to try everything. Nights and days with Will were filled with wonder and excitement. He had never been so happy even before they became sexually intimate and thankfully, he no longer had to worry about experiencing ecstatic happiness.

One dark, stormy evening, they went out early and Angel’s friend at Trinity College had let them into the library. He wanted Will to see the glorious Book of Kells. The young man was awed by the magnificence of the lettering and he watched patiently as Angel made a few sketches. Angel showed him the griffin and the intricate letter A that inspired his tattoo. They paged through several huge art books and he showed Will the works of Irish artists that he hoped to incorporate into his classes. In the museum shop, they chose a print of Jack Yeats’ Two Travellers to take home since it reminded them of their trip together. He gave his friend money to pay for the print and have it delivered to the hotel.

When they left Trinity, they strolled in the Temple Bar, and spent time in the various used and new bookstores that dotted the streets and alleys. Will was thrilled with all the literary offerings and had purchased several books of poetry. He had found several books on artists from Ireland, Scotland and Wales and bought a copy of Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray and The Happy Prince and Other Stories. Will had been surprised at his purchase of the children’s book but later frequently asked him to read the stories to him again and again, preferably speaking in his soft Irish brogue.

The next night they went to a performance at The Abbey Theatre that Jack’s brother, William Butler Yeats had established with several friends. Ironically, it had been a production of the American playwright, Arthur Miller’s The Crucible. Will had read the play at University so he was familiar with the story. Later in the summer, a production of A Woman of No Importance, by Oscar Wilde would be performed. Angel wanted to see the play. He had long been interested in the famous author. Wilde’s condemnation because of his sexual preference and his eventual death in jail because of the “crime” of sodomy had always infuriated him.

The following evening they had dinner at Lord Edward’s, the oldest seafood restaurant in Dublin. At the end of the meal, Will surprised Angel with an early edition of a collection of Yeats’ poems that he had surreptitiously purchased at the book market. He was deeply touched by the thought and the gift and that night was the first time they made love.

Angel turned slightly to stare at the face of the man who had so enriched his life. Will’s joy and enthusiasm brightened each day and night. Their first time had been slow and tentative. Angel was cautious because of Will’s human body and each of them wondered what to do to satisfy the other. Angel began at Will’s feet. He kissed his toes, sucking them gently into his mouth. Will moaned softly. He slowly licked and kissed his way up his thin, yet muscular legs and brushed his lips across Will’s thighs as he gently massaged his sack as he inserted first one, then two oiled fingers into Will’s tight passage, moving them in and out, stretching him carefully. He kissed the wiry brown curls but did not touch Will’s stiffened cock. Angel swirled his tongue into the smaller man’s belly button and Will groaned as he arched his body off the bed. When Angel laved and gently bit each nipple, Will gasped and began to beg. Angel ignored his pleas and continued to drag his tongue over Will’s chest. When he licked and nuzzled Will’s neck, the younger man shuddered and moaned and begged pitifully. Angel stopped his ministrations. He worried that he would lose control and hurt the boy’s human body. Finally, neither Will nor Spike could take it any longer.

“Bloody hell, Angel, you’re driving me bonkers. Sure you’re not channeling Angelus? I seem to remember him enjoying this slow sodding sexual torture. He liked me to beg.”

Angel started and stared. Will’s soft eyes twinkled. “I agree with Spike, Angel. You are driving me quite mad!”

He shoved Angel off of him and quickly impaled himself, gasping as he sank down but quickly grinning as he rode up and down, shouting as he achieved release. Angel watched him in amazement until his own body demanded more and he thrust deep into Will and was satisfied. They sank into each other’s arms and fell asleep. There was no more waiting and the looks of longing and desire interrupted many touristy plans.

They explored the shops of Grafton Street and Angel happily paid for exorbitantly expensive leather pants because they accented Will’s ass so perfectly. However, he couldn’t wear them often, since once he put them on, they seldom left the bedroom.

Angel arranged an entry into the National Gallery one evening. He had to smile as he remembered. Will’s interest in fine art waned after about an hour, but he continued to act interested and asked questions. This was more Will’s behavior than that of the always frenetic, impatient Spike. They traipsed through Temple Bar again and languished over coffee in several of the cafes. Will enjoyed the music and they searched for a songbook. He had been surprised at Will’s deep voice – just like Spike’s – when he sang and recited poetry. It was eerie how often the younger vampire’s personalities and traits blended seamlessly into Will’s.

He almost laughed as he remembered visiting Jameson’s distillery. Another friend of Angel’s let them in after hours. Will had never sampled the potent whiskey and when he did, he coughed and sputtered as tears ran down his face. The drink made him giddy and he giggled throughout the rest of the tour.

They left Dublin and began a tour of the rest of Ireland. Will had purchased a tourist guide and had marked some places that he wanted to see. They drove through County Cork to see the mysterious Lough Cur or the Drumberg Stone Circle that was similar to Stonehenge in England that Will had visited. Angel wanted Will to visit the Blarney Stone, which was impossible in the evening. He had to strongly encourage him to go out on his own. He grinned as he remembered. He told Will the legend that kissing the stone endowed the kisser with the gift of gab. “Even though it is highly doubtful that you will ever run out of things to say, you should go to the stone. It is considered very good luck.”

Will laughed and agreed to go. When he returned, Angel had been sleeping. Although he woke as soon as Will neared the door to the room, he pretended to be soundly asleep. Will undressed, crawled into bed and began to whisper everything that he did that afternoon. The whispers became gentle kisses and eventually Will’s tongue did provocatively marvelous things to Angel’s cock.

They drove north and stopped in Galway, where Angel had been born centuries before and on a rainy, dark afternoon he managed to sneak out as Will slept to purchase a Claddagh ring to give to the younger man on his birthday.

Since Angel was fond of the poet Yeats, and his artist brother, Jack, they traveled to County Sligo. The brothers spent time in the area both as children and adults. They stopped near Sligo town and walked to Lough Gill. The lake contained about twenty small islands including the Lake Isle of Innisfree. Angel had surprised Will to tears by reciting the Yeats’ poem that immortalized the place.

Blinking his own watery eyes at the memory, he hurried to remember their visit to County Antrim in Northern Ireland. He smiled broadly at the memory of Will running and laughing over the Giant’s Causeway in the early twilight. His child-like enthusiasm evoked both happy and sad memories of William as a fledgling vampire.

Of course, while they were there they had to visit Bushmill’s distillery, which fortunately had an evening tour available. They explored the rocky coasts and caves carved out of the stone by the violent waves of Northern Ireland and walked on the windy beaches as soon as the sun dropped out of sight. Although he wished that he could always accompany Will on his touristy treks, Angel was happy when the young man slipped out during the day to explore the beach on his own.

A few days before they were to return to New York, Will received a phone call from Clare. Giles had suffered a stroke. He knew he had to go England and he asked Angel to go with him.

“Will, I have to get back. My classes begin next week. Besides, this is something you must do on your own. Giles…” He did not continue but Will knew how he felt about Giles. Giles hated Angel and hated that his precious Buffy had fallen in love with a vampire; a vampire who lost his soul and murdered the Watcher’s girlfriend and forced the slayer to send him to hell. After the devastation in the alley, when Angel learned from Faith that Giles had conspired with the Sunnydale High School principal to have Spike killed, she had to talk him out of flying to England to kill the former Watcher.

Will had coaxed, telling Angel that he could stay in London; it would only take a few days; but he had remained firm. Will had to deal with this on his own. It was the part of Will’s life that Angel did not know and had no place in.

“This is something you must do alone, Will. Giles is your…mentor. I’ve told you how he feels about me. I don’t want to intrude in what may be your last visit with him.”

Will had gone, knowing Angel was right, but he had been hurt at what he saw as Angel’s abandonment and they had a serious verbal fight. Will stayed for several weeks after Giles died and then flew to China when his parents pressured him to visit. During the two months he was gone, Will sent short emails telling Angel what he was doing, but they didn’t talk on the phone and he gave no hint of when he would return. Angel had suffered his absence and wondered sadly if it would be permanent but he didn’t ask Will to return. The younger man had to decide what his path would be.

During Will’s absence, Connor called to tell Angel he had to come to New York on business. Angel was glad to see him. The visit with his son gave him a respite from his concern over Will. He had not told Connor about Will or Spike’s return. Connor seemed to sense Angel’s disquiet and had asked if something was worrying him. Angel replied that he had jet lag from his return from Ireland. Connor accepted the explanation but Angel knew he suspected that it wasn’t the truth.

Angel had seen his son occasionally over the last twenty-five years. Whenever Connor had to come east on business, he tried to plan an extra day or two to spend time with his father. Since his adoptive parents had died, he managed to visit more often. Usually he came to New York since it was easier for him, although Angel had traveled to Seattle a few times over the years. He attended Connor’s wedding and to see his new grandchildren. His last visit had been for his granddaughter, Fiona’s high school graduation, three years before. But he stayed in touch with phone calls, letters and emails. As soon as Fiona learned to write, she began to email her grandfather to tell him about school, her new pony and other things important to a little girl. Ryan was less communicative, although he always added a few lines to his sister’s messages, usually about the sport he was currently involved in. Except for Ryan’s agility and versatility in sports and Fiona’s gift for drawing, neither child exhibited any extraordinary abilities. Connor had doctors do battery of tests over the years and both children were bright but ordinary human beings, much to Angel’s and his son’s relief.

Whenever Connor sent pictures, Angel made charcoal or pastel sketches of the children as they grew. He had them framed and sent them to Connor and he kept a copy in a special portfolio. Fiona had inherited her grandfather’s artistic gift and she often sent him drawings, which he treasured. Angel had sent her sketchpads, art supplies and art books while he sent Ryan books on sports and memorabilia of the various New York teams. Once, when the Super Bowl was played in Seattle, Jed managed to get him four tickets and Angel sent them to his son. He smiled as he remembered the lengthy, excited phone call from Ryan as he shared almost every play of the game with his grandfather.

Angel was grateful that demons that chose to interconnect with humans were accepted, although human beings preferred demons that were recognizable. Benign demons, like Lorne were readily integrated in society. Others, malevolent creatures who preyed on humanity were hunted and killed. There was greater suspicion regarding vampires, because they looked human, and unsuspecting men and women could easily become their victims. Human blood was available for purchase. If vampires chose to feed this way, there was no difficulty. If not, they too were hunted and staked.

Many vampires had adapted and worked in the human world. There were many human beings who willingly became vampires so they would never age despite the fact that they outlived their friends and those they loved. Hollywood and its movie society were filled with vampires.

Three nights ago, Angel had returned to his apartment after class. He smelled Will’s scent in the hallway. When he put his key in the lock, the door swung open and Will stood there smiling at him, although his eyes were wary. He was worried that his petulant behavior and long absence had hurt Angel too much and he quickly apologized. “I’m…I’m sorry I didn’t call. I…I was angry…and hurt that you wouldn’t go with me. I wanted you to…to miss me. I missed you…every day.”

“I did miss you, Will, very much.”

They talked for several hours and Angel reassured Will that although he missed him dreadfully, he understood all that he felt and why he stayed away. Will’s eyes grew heavy and Angel had pulled him to his feet and helped him stagger into the bedroom. He collapsed on the bed fully clothed. Angel undressed him and immediately hardened at the sight of the young man’s naked body but Will was exhausted from his travel and nerves and he fell asleep quickly. Angel undressed and got into bed, lying still as he silently thanked whatever powers had a hand in the boy’s return. Will turned and nestled close to him, resting his head on Angel’s chest and draping his arm across his waist. He sighed in his sleep. He was at peace, wrapped in the loving safety of Angel’s arms.

As Will stirred, Angel closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. He enjoyed waking up to the younger man’s morning ministrations and he had sorely missed his presence in his bed. Will raised his head and placed a kiss on Angel’s chest and began to lave the nearest nipple. He slipped his hand beneath the covers and began to massage Angel’s sack and shaft. Since he was already half hard because of Will’s gentle tongue, the vampire stiffened quickly. He opened his eyes and stared into Will’s; his blue eyes glinting with mischief.

“You had a smile on your face. How long have you been awake?” Will asked.

“A little while.”

“Hmmm. I think you like it when I make the first move, Angel. Makes you feel wanted. Makes you feel all special when a manly young stud such as myself wants your body.” He grinned and his eyes danced.

“Really, manly stud, are you?” Angel responded, his lips twitching as he tried to hold in a laugh.”

“Yep. Not that you’re not a stud; you’re just an old stud.” Will laughed at the look on Angel’s face. “You may look young, but since you were born in 1727 and it’s 2029 I’m thinking you’re a little over the hill.”

Angel moved with vampire speed and Will gasped as was flipped quickly onto his back, his legs resting on the vampire’s shoulders as his long tongue slipped swiftly into the young man’s waiting hole. Angel withdrew his tongue as Will began to moan and writhe with pleasure. “Old huh? An old guy couldn’t do what I just did.”

Will panted. “Okay. Okay. I take it back. You’re not old…Do it again, please?”

Angel laughed and resumed his seduction. They spent the next several hours sending each other into the wild abandon of sexual ecstasy until they fell asleep again from exhaustion.

****

Three years later – 2032

Will finished his M.A. in English Literature. He took classes at NYU, online classes at Cambridge and NYU and at Angel’s insistence, stayed one semester in England to work on his thesis with his tutor. They took turns flying back and forth on long weekends and at school breaks but even with those fleeting visits, the separation had been difficult. Although he sorely missed Will, Angel was glad that the younger man finished his education at Cambridge. He knew that Will loved him, but Angel wanted him to meet other young men and women; human young men and women; so that Will would be certain he wanted to spend his life with a vampire.

When the thesis was written and accepted, Angel traveled to Cambridge for the convocation and the ceremony. He met Will’s parents for the first time. Will had told them of his relationship with Angel when he visited them in China. They were not pleased with his choice, but they saw that their son was healthy and happy and the nightmares and visions that long plagued him were gone.

Will had applied for a position at NYU in the English Department and was accepted. He taught several classes both during the day and evening and, as a new instructor, spent many hours preparing his lectures and grading papers. Angel often found him asleep at his desk; his head resting on papers he had yet to grade.

Willow and Clare came to visit and Angel had invited Morgana to meet them. The three witches became good friends and frequently traveled the world together in various mysterious ways. Willow never mentioned Buffy until Angel asked. She was retired although still trained the many young slayers. She had married an Italian count and lived in a large villa on the outskirts of Rome. Like Faith, Buffy had no children of her own. Dawn had married a fellow student at the University of Padua and now lived with him and her children in Australia. When Xander visited Dawn, he fell in love with an Aussie woman and lived only a few miles from the slayer’s sister.

One evening, Connor called to tell his father that he would be in New York on business. Angel arranged to meet him at his hotel and told him all that happened with Will and Spike. He did not know how his son would react to the fact that his father had a very young human lover. Even though Angel looked no older than Will, he was a vampire, not a human. He smiled fondly as he remembered his son’s response.

“I’m glad you have someone, Dad. You’ve been alone for a long time.” Connor smiled and placed his hand on his father’s arm. “It’s weird, but then your whole life is pretty weird, so I’m not surprised.” He winked and laughed. “He’s twenty-eight, handsome and speaks with an English accent? You better be careful when you visit. Fiona’s a flirt, Dad, she may try to steal him from you!”

Angel had been deeply touched by Connor’s gentle banter. He had felt very close to his son after that visit.

Faith came to stay every few months. She and Robin were still together, although unmarried, and she still assisted somewhat in the training of the new slayers. She, Willow and the other witches were very glad that Angel and Will were together. They did not remember Angel ever looking so content and the longing looks of love that passed between the man and the vampire were titillating. Although Will was his own gentle person, he possessed Spike’s vitality and enthusiasm. Everyone recognized the blonde vampire’s trademark smirk on Will’s kind face and Spike’s mischievous twinkle in his bright blue eyes. All of them were happy to see that the unique vampire had not totally disappeared.

The devotion between Will and Angel had intensified with time. They never tired of spending time together. Will allowed Angel to drag him to museums and Angel willingly accompanied Will to concerts and plays. One evening, Angel surprised Will with tickets to a revival of an old musical, The Phantom of the Opera. In Act I, when Christine pulled back the Phantom’s mask to reveal his horribly disfigured face, Will gasped and clutched Angel’s hand tightly. He said nothing during intermission and he was quiet on the cab ride back to the apartment after the performance, but later, when they were lying together in bed, Will rested his head on his hand and stared into Angel’s dark eyes.

“I…I remember this from my dreams. You and Spike met a disfigured little boy long ago in Paris. You took him to an opera house where a horribly scarred man lived beneath the theatre. Spike…Spike wanted to keep him.”

“Yes, Spike always had a kind heart. But I was unwilling to make the boy a vampire and as a human, he could not live with us.”

“I’ve heard the song several times. It’s…it’s very sad.”

“It is, but soon after I heard it one evening years ago, and was desperately missing Spike, I saw you in my classroom, and my life changed. So now when I hear it, it is the hauntingly beautiful song that somehow brought you to me.”

Will gently brushed his lips on Angel’s and rested his head on the vampire’s chest. “I thank Spike every day for leading me to you.”

“I do too, Will. I do too.”

~Epilogue~

Two years later…2035

“You’re such a snob, Angel. I’ve been accepted at NYU and I’m going to work on my Ph.D. in British Literature here! You think I don’t know what you’re doing? You want me to go to Cambridge – without you – so I can meet other men – human men. You think maybe I’ll choose to be with one of them. Buggering hell! Can’t you get it through that thick Irish head of yours – I want to be with you! I love you! Only you!”

Will and Angel stared at each other, blue eyes blazing with emotion, brown eyes shifting from stubborn anger into surprise at the sudden change in tone and expression. The harsh voice of Spike only rarely making a rare appearance. The vampire and the human young man had blended almost seamlessly, until a serious emotional upheaval brought the more forceful Spike from his hidden depths in Will. Suddenly both men laughed and Will strode forward to wrap his arms around Angel’s neck. He watched his lover’s face briefly and then leaned in to kiss him passionately. He stepped back, his eyes twinkling with mischief, Spike’s mischief.

“And, I’m taking a summer session at Trinity in Irish Lit and you’re taking the summer off and coming with me. After the session, we are traveling throughout England, visiting places where Coleridge, Byron, Shelley and Keats lived and worked. And don’t give me the “I’m a vampire and I can’t go out in the daylight” look. There'll be plenty of things to do in the evening, Angel.”

Will finished his second speech with a smirk and a quirk of his eyebrow; Spike’s smirk and eyebrow quirk, although without the scar. He stepped in close again, placed his hands on Angel’s powerful chest, and looked deeply into the gentle brown eyes of the man he adored. “Besides, they are the focus of my dissertation and I need you there to listen to my thoughts, ideas and notes.”

Angel nodded as he reached out to brush an unruly wave from Will’s forehead. All his fight was gone. Will, much like William long ago, knew just what to say and do to coax the vampire into agreement with his plans. “Okay, Will.” Angel smiled and bent to kiss the full, sensual lips of the man who had brought such joy and many other emotions into his life.

One year later…2036

Angel heard Will’s key in the lock and turned from his desk. He was later than usual and the vampire had been a bit worried. The door opened and Will staggered into the apartment.

“Angel…”

Angel quickly jumped up and ran toward the bloody, battered younger man. “Will…Oh God…what happened?” He asked as Will collapsed into his arms.

“Demon,” he gasped. “Looked like a frog…”

Angel carried the younger man into the bathroom and gently laid him on the floor. He leaned over to turn on the faucets in the shower. When it was warm enough, he hurriedly removed Will’s torn clothes and his own and helped him into the shower. He soaped his body carefully as the young man moaned and hissed in pain. Satisfied that the demon blood and poison had been washed away, Angel stepped out of the shower cradling Will’s injured body. He wrapped him quickly into a towel and laid him on the tile floor as he turned on the water for the large tub. He added an herbal mixture that Willow had sent him that would stop any demonic infection, turned on the jets and then lifted Will into the water. Will hissed pitifully at first as the water and herbs touched his body, but then rested quietly as Angel held him for several minutes to allow the potion to work. Angel carefully bathed Will’s face with a soft cloth dipped into the water.

Angel lifted Will from the tub, wrapped him in the large towel, and carried him into their bedroom. He laid him down carefully, studying the gashes and cuts in his pale skin. He raced back into the bathroom for a mystical ointment that he always kept on hand and gently rubbed it onto Will’s skin, biting his lips as the young man groaned and twitched at its sting.

When Angel had finished his ministrations, Will finally opened his fevered, tear filled eyes, and the vampire shuddered as he remembered the first time he had cared for Will after he was injured by demons.

“It was a Grenouille demon, like the one…before?” Angel asked.

Will nodded.

“What happened? How…”

Will closed his eyes and began to speak haltingly. “I…I had to stay later…I was thinking and I…I didn’t see it or hear it. It batted my face. It hurt…I couldn’t fight back…”

“Hush. Close your eyes. I’ll get a medicinal tisane that Morgana made,” Angel said quietly and hurried out of the room. After Will’s initial injuries, the vampire made sure he had every type of remedy for demonic attacks on hand.

Thanking human ingenuity for the quickness of microwaves, he returned with the heated potion. He had added some herbs for sleeping. Will’s eyes opened and Angel lifted him up so he could drink. As he swallowed, Will searched Angel’s face. When he finished the tisane, he lay back on the pillow and spoke quietly. “Will...will Spike…”

Angel was startled and hurried to reassure the younger man. “No…no Will. You and Spike have merged. You are a combination of both Spike and yourself. He…Dominic told you that you and Spike would blend together."

Angel watched over Will during the night. He held Will’s feverish hand and rubbed his cool fingers over the shiny, silver ring on his lover’s left hand. He thought back to when he gave the ring to Will after they returned from Ireland 10 years ago. Angel had given it to him on his birthday and told him the significance of the Claddagh ring. Will’s eyes had glistened with happy tears and from that day, he had never taken it off.

As he sat with Will, Angel felt his fever rise briefly. He bathed his body again with the cool herbal water and reapplied the ointment to calm the vicious red of the wounds and fight any infection.

Will stirred and opened his eyes. He saw Angel sitting next to the bed, holding his hand, his face troubled. The vampire smiled slightly. “Good morning. How…how do you feel?”

The younger man’s face was pale and dark shadows loomed beneath his eyes. He smiled wanly. “Like I wrestled an alligator and lost. What…what is it about me that the Grenouille dislikes?”

“I don’t know. After your first attack, Faith made sure the Council sent warriors and slayers to clean the incorrigible demons out of all the parks in New York. They contacted other cities and told them to request assistance if any unfriendly, unassimilated demons were still prowling and attacking humans. Most of the cities have developed a special police force composed of demons and humans to patrol.”

Will sighed and gave Angel an accusatory stare. “I asked you if we could patrol occasionally.”

Angel stiffened. “Will, I’ve fought for a long time. I lost people who were close to me. I…I wanted…I just wanted some peace for a while. The council and the cities had to do their part too. I didn’t want…”

“You wanted to protect me. You didn’t want me to go out so you didn’t,” Will said quietly.

Angel stood up abruptly and glared at the man lying on the bed. “I almost lost you…then Spike…I couldn’t risk…I won’t lose you again…I can’t…I don’t think I could survive or would want to if…”

Will reached for Angel’s hand. “I know, Angel. I…I know how it felt when I thought I lost you…but, you’re powerful and we’ve trained a bit. Sometimes…sometimes I think we need to help.”

After Will recovered, Angel trained him intensely and when he was satisfied that the younger man could handle himself, they patrolled occasionally near their apartment. They were rarely alone. Usually they met the new demon and police forces that had been established and only rarely did they have to battle any violent demons. New York soon became an unfriendly place for unassimilated demons and they apparently moved on to less protected cities and towns.

Ten years later…2046

“Ugggh!” Angel grunted as the body flung itself onto his back. At first, he was startled and then almost frightened. He hadn’t heard anyone enter his apartment. Although he hadn’t been sleeping well since…But then the scent… “Will, you’re back!”

The arms released him and he rolled over and turned to face his lover. Their eyes met for only a moment before Will attacked his mouth, kissing his lips softly once and then thrusting his tongue into Angel’s waiting mouth as he ground his cock into Angel’s morning hard on. Will released him and stared at the vampire’s slightly shocked face. “God, I missed you! I had to come home for a few days!” Will panted before smothering Angel’s mouth in another searing kiss.

He jumped up and began to swiftly remove his clothes as he talked. “They cancelled the shoot for a few days; some problem with some special camera. I had one of the grips drive me to the airport. I didn’t go back to the room to pack. I don’t plan on wearing any clothes for the next four days!”

Will stood next to the bed, naked, beautiful, and extremely hard before he dove onto the bed and on top of Angel. He bit Angel’s ear lobe and then worked his way down the vampire’s throat licking and nipping. His tongue made its way quickly but seductively down Angel’s broad chest, biting his nipples, laving his belly button and then swirling around his cock before swallowing it whole.

Angel gasped and arched his body, thrusting himself deep into Will’s waiting mouth while the younger man’s long, slender fingers gently massaged his sack. “God, Will! God…!”

Will paused long enough to reach into the drawer for the lube. Angel grabbed the tube. He stared at his lover for a moment, his dark eyes flaming with passion before he began coating Will’s cock with the slick. Will’s eyes shimmered with lust and love.

“I need to feel you, Will. I need to feel you,” Angel whispered, tears glittering at edges of his eyes.

Will bent over and kissed Angel gently. “I love you,” he said quietly.

“I love you, Will. Please…”

Will lifted Angel’s legs onto his shoulders and thrust deeply into the vampire’s cool body. Angel clamped his muscles onto Will’s dick and both man and vampire moaned in ecstasy.

After only a few brief thrusts, Will released. “Oh, Angel. Sorry, I…”

Angel maneuvered them quickly and coated his cock with slick. Will’s legs were now on his shoulders and he plunged deeply into his lover’s waiting channel. Will gasped and groaned and panted. Angel lifted Will’s body until it was bent almost in half, until he reached Will’s prostate with every penetration. “Oh God, Angel. Oh, God. Oh God!” Will arched his body, moaned, and scratched his fingers down the vampire’s back leaving bloody tracks. Angel’s cry of pleasure was muffled as he bit into the hot flesh of his lover’s neck with human teeth as he felt Will’s nails pierce his flesh. He shuddered and released into Will just as the man achieved his second orgasm.

Angel lifted his heavy body from Will’s and the two men rolled to face each other. “Miss me, did you?” Angel asked, his brown eyes twinkling and his mouth twitching into a satisfied smile.

“God, yes. It seemed like forever.”

“Will, it was only a week.” Angel smirked, although his eyes revealed that he was deeply touched.

Will punched the vampire’s arm. “A very long week. Although I’m grateful for this opportunity, it’s maddening. Waiting, rewriting, waiting, setting the scene, waiting…You know I can’t stand waiting.”

“Yes, I do know that. I’ve lived with you for thirteen years. You are not a patient man, Will.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not immortal. I don’t have eternity to do things. I…” He stopped at the look on Angel’s face. The vampire didn’t like to be reminded that Will would eventually die.

He hurriedly continued. “I told them I had to come home while they got their act together. I told them you needed me to help you with your book.”

The cloud passed from Angel’s eyes and he laughed. He was working on a book about Oscar Wilde and Will would be writing the prose part with him but Angel was only in the research stage. The book they wrote seven years before on Jack and William Butler Yeats had been published to enthusiastic reviews. For an academic book it had done very, very well and made them quite a lot of money.

“Yes, well, I had to make sure you were staying on task, you know how you get distracted.” Will grinned and placed another long kiss on Angel’s lips.

“You’ve only been gone seven days, Will, and you weren’t here to distract me.” He grinned when Will punched him again and Angel laughed. “I’ll show you how much I’ve done – later.” Angel responded, a provocative gleam in his dark eyes. He licked his lips and then reconvened his sensual seduction of Will’s body.

This is how it had been with them for the years that they had worked and lived together: serious work, playful banter, sincere camaraderie and long sessions of wild, passionate sex.

A few hours later, showered and fed, they sat in front of the fire talking. Angel had grown serious as he listened to Will. “The shoot not going well?”

“No. I’m used to working with you. You’re organized. They’re not. They decide something and then change their minds halfway through. At this rate, it will take far longer than they promised,” Will groused.

Will had used his dissertation as the basis for a book. He looked at the intriguing lives of four of the Romantic poets: Coleridge, Keats, Shelley and Byron and developed his thesis that what they experienced in their personal lives greatly influenced their poetry. It had been highly praised academically, but because of the poets’ often turbulent and somewhat sensational lives and the book’s readability it became a surprising best seller. Coleridge was an opium addict. Keats died tragically of tuberculosis at twenty-six. Shelley had a tumultuous personal life and drowned a month before his thirtieth birthday. Byron was a celebrated rake who, during one dismal summer in Switzerland, challenged his guests to write horror stories. Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein and Byron’s doctor, John Polidori, wrote Lord Ruthven, the first vampire story in the English language. Since the character was based on Bryon, he was a handsome, charming, aristocratic demon.

A movie studio had bid highly for the rites and was making a film based more on the poets’ often tempestuous personal lives rather than on their literary importance. Angel was concerned that the thrust of the film would denigrate Will’s academic reputation, while the younger man hoped that the realistic and tragic lives of the poets would inspire students, especially, to look into their literary work. After discussions with several tenured professors in the English department, Will agreed to the film. He was hired to adapt his book as a screenplay and as technical advisor. Unfortunately, after numerous delays, the filming began right before the fall semester, and Angel could not accompany Will to California. Although he knew he would miss Will, he wanted his lover to have this opportunity. If the filmmaking continued into the spring term, his teaching assistant would, by then, be able to handle the classes when he visited Will.

“You told me you finished the screenplay,” Angel said.

“Angel, I have rewritten parts of the screenplay several times. I’ve fought with the director over his decisions to distort certain parts and overlook others,” Will responded shaking his head. “It’s maddening. I didn’t think I was a pompous academic, but I don’t think like they do and what I envision is nowhere near what they see.”

“It’s all about money, Will. They want to make sure their investment pays off; that people will flock to the theatres to see the film. Unfortunately, people often prefer sordid details and melodrama,” Angel answered as he touched Will’s face. “I know you’ll win at least some of the arguments.” The vampire grinned and laughed outright at the sensual pout on Will’s face.

Two years later…2048

“I can’t find the studs!” Will wailed, his face red with exasperation.

Angel walked over with them in his hand and calmly helped the nervous man finish dressing. He was not calm inside. They were on their way to the Oscars and he was never comfortable in the spotlight. But, this was Will’s night and Angel had to be there for him, to make sure Will didn’t jump out of his skin before it was over and because he was so proud of the man he loved.

“The Oscar for best adapted screenplay goes to Will Tate, for Romantic Lives!”

Two years later…2050

Angel opened the door when he heard the knock. His face creased with smiles as he drew Faith into a hug.

He stepped back. “Faith, this is a surprise. How are you?” His smile faded as he looked at her somber face

“Angel, Buffy’s dead.”

Will and Angel had traveled often in their years together, but this journey was a sad duty. Buffy, his old love had died suddenly of an apparent heart attack and they were flying to Rome for her funeral. Angel, Will, Faith and Robin were using the Cardiff family jet and they would arrive in Rome in the late afternoon. According to Buffy’s wishes, the funeral would take place in the evening. She told her husband that she had spent much of her life working in darkness and oddly, she still felt more comfortable at night. Of course, it also made it easier for her many demon friends to attend the service. Angel had been stunned by the news of her death. She was sixty-eight years old and still physically fit, but perhaps the strain on her body from all those years of battling evil, wore out her heart.

The remaining Sunnydale crew all attended: Buffy’s sister, Dawn and her husband, Willow and her lover, Morgana, Xander and his wife, Diana. Oz came alone. His werewolf wife remained in Tibet.

Angel visited briefly with his old friends. Willow had known about Will’s existence but the others were shocked by his resemblance to Spike and the vampire made a surprise appearance, sort of.

“So, Will you’re a college professor and you won an Oscar. You must be a proud papa, Angel,” Xander snarked.

“Buggering hell, you’ve not changed have you? Still the annoying twerp with the smart-ass taunts and jibes. Sod off, git.”

The silence was broken by Angel’s laughter, which was another surprise and then everyone began talking at once. Willow, Morgana and Faith knew what had happened but they hadn’t revealed it to anyone else. An hour later, Will, with Angel’s help had explained how he and Spike had blended, although in times of stress, Spike’s voice and personality sometimes took over.

Angel, Will and Faith left the next evening. Although they saw Willow and Morgana often over the years, they had not stayed in touch with the others so they had little to say.

Three years later…2053

The insistent ring of the phone annoyed Angel but he ignored it. Will was on his belly, his ass in the air. Angel knelt behind him and thrust deep inside his warm body, hitting the sweet spot with every thrust.

“God, yes, Angel! Yes!” Will yelled as he released far too quickly in his estimation.

At times like these, he truly wished Angel would make him a vampire. Angel could have wild sex for hours without climaxing; Will could not. The vampire had worshipped Will’s body for hours on many occasions and he experienced multiple orgasms due to Angel’s seductive tongue and extremely large cock before he released once. Angel’s tender prowess as a lover drove him madly over the edge way before the vampire’s need to be satisfied, although if Will woke him up, the morning or evening hard on was more cooperative.

A few hours later they came out of the bedroom. The message light was blinking on the phone and Will pressed it. A voice he didn’t recognize left a terse message.

“Angel, it’s Robin Wood. Faith is dead. A car crash two days ago. Funeral’s tomorrow at noon.”

Will heard a crash and hurried into the kitchen. Angel had dropped his mug of blood and he demon’s face glared at him.

“Two days! I could have gone…said good-bye. She was dying for two days…alone,” Angel whispered and tears slipped from his sad, dark eyes.

Will wrapped his arms around the vampire and Angel’s tears broke his heart. His own heart was broken. Faith had been important in his life almost from the beginning of his relationship with Angel. She came when Angel called to tell her about Will only to find Spike in his place. When he returned, he called Faith often to talk about Angel; about what he wanted and what Angel needed. She was his first true friend and she treated him like her little brother. Since he had no siblings, he reveled in her attention whether she was yelling at him or loving him.

Faith had been Angel’s closest friend for a long time, but especially since the events in the alley. Angel had called her when he had been hurt and Spike appeared and she helped them both get through the emotional time. She was a frequent visitor to New York and she and Angel emailed often since the vampire wasn’t really a “phone person.” Now, she was gone and Angel had not had a chance to say good-bye.

Spike made a surprise appearance in Will’s mind demanding a voice. Will could feel his fury bubbling inside. “Bugger, that bloody, sodding, arsehole. He’s a fucking cruel bastard. He has a soul? Buried sodding deep if it’s even there! Why’d she stay with him? Could’ve done much better.”

Will released Angel and raced to the phone. Within ten minutes, he had commandeered the Cardiff jet, packed a small bag and called for a taxi. Will believed that Robin Wood purposely did not inform Angel because he hated that Faith and the vampire were friends and Spike concurred. He stayed at the near edges of Will’s consciousness until they returned to New York, although he said no more, realizing that Angel didn’t need any more torment.

They arrived in Cleveland in early evening. On the way to the cemetery, they stopped at a florist and Angel bought a large bouquet of daisies. Faith was not a rose kind of woman. The caretaker took them to her grave. Faith had requested cremation and the urn was buried in the far corner of the grounds beneath two dogwood trees. Three of her slayers had already been buried in the large plot. Angel and Will sat together leaning against one of the trees and Angel remembered another cemetery, long ago, when he sat with Buffy after her mother died. It was hard to say good-bye to old friends and as an immortal vampire, he had said good-bye to many.

Fourteen years later…2067

Will and Angel looked around at their empty apartment; the apartment where Angel had lost Spike a second time; where he had found Will and where they had lived and loved for almost forty years. The movers had taken their possessions and the furniture they wanted to keep and they had offered the rest to faculty and friends.

They picked up their suitcases and with a final glance at their home, they turned to leave to begin another life on Vancouver Island in Canada. Both had retired from NYU and decided to move to the West Coast to be closer to Connor and his family. Several years before, they had bought property on a wooded hill overlooking the sea and had built a small house. Connor and his daughter, Fiona had overseen the project and all was ready for them.

Over the last fourteen years Angel and Will had visited Connor more often than before. Ryan had married and moved to California. Fiona and her husband lived with their twin sons in Seattle where she had a successful art gallery and he was a physician. Both were very busy with their lives and families. Connor was now retired and somewhat at a loss as to what to do to fill his days. He and Angel spent hours talking and they often drove up to Vancouver Island to check on the various stages of their house and to familiarize themselves with the area. Angel was happy to reconnect with his son. On some of the visits Will stayed in Seattle with Connor’s wife, Gabrielle, allowing Angel some private time with Connor. He and Gabrielle spent hours hunting in antique shops for interesting things to furnish their new house. On one visit Will was especially happy to find a large roll top desk that was more than two hundred years old and in wonderful condition.

“This desk must have many stories to tell. Maybe it will inspire me,” Will said.

“Now, Will, I don’t think you need any help with ideas for books. You and Angel have done very well so far,” Gabrielle responded. “I can’t tell you which of your books I like best, although I’ve read Romantic Lives more than once and Angel’s book on artists of Ireland, Scotland and Wales has been well-thumbed. I think Connor has bought both books for almost every one of our close friends.”

Spike smiled. “Thank you. But we’re retired now. I have to keep busy and writing is what I do best. Angel has never had to work, but he can’t stand to be idle either. We’ll have a few adjustments to make.”

“Do you have any plans to travel?”

“Not right away, but I know Angel wants to visit Japan so I’m sure eventually we’ll make that trip.”

They flew to Seattle on Jed Cardiff’s plane, and were met in the baggage area by Connor, Ryan and Fiona. After the welcomes, hugs and kisses, they retrieved their luggage and headed to Connor’s home for a family reunion. Connor’s wife, Gabrielle, along with Ryan and Fiona’s spouses, Jenna and David, and their children who were Angel’s great-grandchildren, awaited them excitedly. Angel was deeply touched by his family’s happiness that he would be on the West Coast and closer to them.

“How do you feel about babysitting, Grandad? Think you and Will can handle David and James some weekend?” Fiona asked grinning mischievously at Angel.

“Now, Fiona. They need to settle in and get comfortable before you pounce on them,” Gabrielle admonished.

“I think Angel’s face has gotten paler,” Will said laughing.

Connor interceded. “Come on, Dad. Let me show you my workroom. I’ve gotten pretty good at building furniture, so I must have gotten a few of your artistic genes.”

Angel almost breathed a sigh of relief at the quiet in the basement. He loved his family but his mostly solitary life left him ill-prepared to deal with the chaos that often surrounded him when his grandchildren and their children visited. Fortunately Connor suspected as much and often took him away from the tumult.

“What do you think of this?” Connor asked, pointing to an oak rocking chair.

Angel ran his hands over the smooth, varnished wood. “It’s beautiful. You didn’t make this?”

Connor laughed. “Yes I did, Dad. Took me quite a while but I wanted it ready when you moved out.”

Angel looked at his son quizzically. “This…this is for me?”

“Yes, Dad. I made it for you.”

Angel was quiet for a few moments as he stared at the chair.

“Well, sit in it. See if it fits,” Connor said with a smile.

“It’s perfect, Connor. It’s truly beautiful.”

The week flew by and just after sundown one evening, Angel and Will loaded Connor’s truck with their suitcases and the rocking chair for their journey north to their new home.

“Angel, you and Will must come down to visit often,” Gabrielle ordered with a smile. “Now that you’re on our coast and retired, we will be far more demanding of your time.”

“We promise, Gabrielle. We still have more antique shops to explore,” Will said leaning in to give Connor’s wife a hug.

“I don’t think we’ll have room for any more of your finds, Will,” Angel remarked with a playful glare.

Will and Gabrielle shared a knowing smile as he climbed into the truck. Angel hugged her and climbed in and they were off to Ladysmith on Vancouver Island.

Lorne had helped Angel and Will choose their new home town. In one of his emails, Angel had mentioned that they were looking to retire somewhere on Vancouver Island. Lorne wrote back with much information. There was a small assimilated demon community in the Ladysmith area as well as a Native community. Two vampires owned a winery in the Cowichan Valley. Another vampire and his partner, an empath Laroga demon ran a bed and breakfast downtown. Several other demons ran businesses including the Hazelwood Herb Farm which sent its products all over Canada and the United States. Angel had corresponded with the vampire vintners and they helped him find the wooded lot he eventually bought. Initially he found all this “camaraderie” a bit unnerving. He had known several vampires and demons on the staff at NYU but he and Will socialized with them only occasionally. Of course, they hadn’t really socialized much with humans either. It apparently was going to be harder to stay aloof in the small town of Ladysmith and he would have to get used to it.

When he and Will visited Ladysmith, they immediately knew it was the right place for them. The town had been settled in 1899 and many of the Edwardian buildings had been lovingly restored. Cowichan, which is adapted from a Native word meaning “bathed by the sun” has one of the mildest winters in Canada, which meant that Will wouldn’t suffer from too much cold for too many months.

Two years later…2069

“I’m heading to class.” Will shouted from the doorway.

Angel walked out of their bedroom, a towel around his waist and beads of water glistening on his beautiful skin.

“Damn you, Angel. I’ve got to get to class and you’re standing there all wet and…” Will said exasperated as the vampire walked toward him.

Angel winked at Will and then kissed him deeply. “I promise I’ll get another shower just before you get home.”

Will laughed and leaned in to lick the water off Angel’s cheek. “You’d better! I’ll be back no later than eight o’clock.”

Will taught a class in Romantic Literature one night a week at Malaspina University College twenty minutes north in Nanaimo. Angel usually taught a drawing class the same night at a gallery in Ladysmith, but the next session wouldn’t begin for a few weeks. Although they didn’t need to work, neither of them liked to be idle. They had been approached by their publisher about writing a book on vampires in literature and popular culture. They hadn’t decided whether to do it. Writing a book took long hours and Angel especially wanted to spend most of his time with Will without the pressure of deadlines.

Four years later…2073

“More champagne?” The handsome young man asked Angel as his eyes raked sensuously up and down the vampire’s body.

“No…I’m good, thanks.”

“Bloody git. He better back off or I’ll stake him,” Will snarled.

Angel started and looked at Will. Spike rarely made an appearance. “Will?”

“Well, look at him. He’s what, twenty-four and bloody gorgeous. He can’t see what you want with an old human being like me,” Will said quietly.

Angel drew Will close to him and whispered in his ear. “We’ve been together more than forty years, Will. I love you…no one else.”

“Yeah, but look at those tight leather pants and that silk shirt and those smoldering dark eyes. I know the ponce is imaging you naked,” Will groused petulantly.

“I don’t have to imagine you naked, Will. I see you naked in my arms every day and night,” Angel answered.

“Oh, and I suppose I look as good as I did when I still wore leather pants. I don’t, Angel. I’m old and…wrinkled.”

“We’re leaving, now,” Angel said firmly. He grabbed Will’s hand and they thanked their vampire hosts and left the party.

When they got home, Angel slowly undressed Will as he kissed every part of his anatomy until he had the man writhing with pleasure. He swirled his tongue around Will’s slowly hardening cock and massaged his sack. He lubed Will’s cock and then lay down, his knees bent. “Fill me, Will. Fuck me like only you can, Will.”

Will stared at the man he had loved for more than half his life. He wanted to be young and beautiful for Angel. He wanted to be constantly ready for marathon sexcapades as he had been before, but his human body was older. He wasn’t as limber and he had less stamina and he hated it.

A little while later, Angel spoke quietly as he held Will tightly in his powerful arms. “You know I love you and you know that I wished that I could age with you, Will. You’re old?! I’m close to three hundred years old!”

“Yes, but…” Will began but gasped and was silenced when Angel quickly turned and thrust his tongue down his throat. He licked and nipped Will’s nipples with blunt teeth as he coated his cock with slick. Deftly he turned his lover to his stomach, lifted him and drove his dick deep inside Will’s ass and moved within him with agonizing slowness. “Oh, God, Angel!” Will shouted as he came far too quickly.

Angel released soon after. Over the years, as Will aged, his control lessened and he came almost immediately. Angel had held his lover as he cried over his older body and made certain to force himself to be satisfied quickly. Will didn’t understand that Angel envied the human man his changes; envied his humanity.

The phone rang very early the next morning but neither the man nor the vampire answered. When they finally listened to the message, they heard terribly sad news. Gabrielle’s heart had given out.

Angel and Will left that afternoon. The funeral was very sad and Connor looked broken and lost. When Angel asked him to come home with them, he was surprised when his son agreed readily. Within a month, he moved into his own small wing on one side of his father’s house. Fiona and Ryan protested a bit but both believed their father would be happier with Angel. “So…you had this built, just in case, huh?” Connor asked.

“Yes. I wasn’t sure if you or Gabrielle would want to live with Fiona or Ryan. I thought you might like a bit more peace,” Angel responded with a kind smile.

“You’re right. Kids in and out all the time and…their houses are too crowded. Thanks, Dad.”

One year later…2074

Angel hadn’t heard Connor this morning and he was usually up and about early. Will checked on the deck where the elderly man liked to sit while Angel went to knock on his son’s door. When Connor didn’t answer, he opened the door and knew immediately that his son had died in his sleep. They took his body back to Seattle and he was buried next to his beloved Gabrielle.

Both Fiona and Ryan brought their families to visit Angel and Will every year. Will was far more patient with the three boys and took them sailing and to visit the near-by Native village. Jenna adored her grandfather and they spent most of their time together. She, like her Aunt Fiona, had inherited Angel’s gift for drawing and they spent hours sketching and painting.

The gregarious Will had quickly made friends with several of his students who were members of the Nanaimo, a Salish tribe. He and Angel were welcomed and invited to various ceremonies. Angel had painted several scenes of the village and several portraits, which he donated to the local museum to the great pride of the Natives. Will had been collecting their folktales and myths and would soon publish them in a book, illustrated by Angel.

Ten years later…2084

Will and Angel had lived together and loved each other for fifty years. They had finally traveled to Japan and spent several months there learning about the culture. Will collected Japanese myths and folktales and he and Angel collaborated on another book when they returned home.

Will was slowing down visibly although he tried to hide his pain from Angel. One morning, he woke Angel with a tender kiss. He touched the beautiful face of the vampire he had loved for so long and then lay down. Angel leaned on his elbow and studied his lover’s face, concern etched into his brow. Will looked at him for several moments, his eyes filling with tears. “We’ve had a wonderful life together, Angel. I love you, Angel, with every ounce of my being. I’ll miss you.”

He closed his eyes and his breathing stopped. Angel stared for a minute, stunned at the suddenness of Will’s death. “Will…Will…Oh God.” He lay across his lover’s body and sobbed.

Later that day, he called the Native tribal council and told them that Will had died. They passed the information and soon, several people arrived to help Angel. The vampire sat frozen as he watched their friends make the arrangements. He called Ryan and Fiona to tell them that Will had died. He didn’t want to call them; he wanted to be alone in his grief, but he knew that would have been selfish. He knew he wasn’t the only one that was affected by Will’s death. They loved Will, not because he did, but because he was family, their family.

When all his family arrived, they huddled around Angel worriedly; never leaving him alone for too long; always checking up on him. They knew better than to ask if he was okay. They knew he wasn’t, but they wanted to him know he wasn’t alone in his grief.

The next evening, all was prepared and Will was buried on Nanaimo land. For a long while, Angel stood by Will’s grave, flanked by Ryan and Fiona, each holding his hand. He held their warm hands tightly in his large cool fingers as he looked wonderingly at them; his grandchildren; a part of him. Then he looked around at his great-grandchildren, all standing there gazing at him with such love. Tears streaming down his face, he leaned over to Ryan and Fiona and gave them each a kiss and a hug, trying to convey all that he felt for them. Looking once more at his family, he told them to go ahead and go back to the house, and that he’d join them later. He just wanted to be alone with Will for a while. They nodded and left.

Angel stood next to Will’s grave and ran his hand along the smooth granite surface of the headstone. He sat there, leaning against it through the night, remembering their lives together, their talks, their arguments, their travels. He remembered it all; the good and the not so good; his time as Angelus with William and Spike. The year when Spike returned, bursting with his usual frenetic energy out of the amulet. He remembered his fear at Spike’s return and his anger. Each of them violently furious with each other at first and then slowly learning how to understand and respect each other. Then he remembered Spike dying in the alley because he chose to fight at his side. He remembered the years of loneliness that suddenly changed when Spike returned in Will. He closed his eyes and remembered; grateful for the love they shared as he whispered good-bye. “Le mo ghrasa mise, agus liomsa mo ghrá.”

The next morning when one of the elders came to check on him, Angel was not there. The old man glanced at the dirt covering the grave. A silver ring lay in a pile of dust. Angel had followed his love into eternity.

One year later…2085

Ryan and Fiona gathered with their children at Will’s grave site on the anniversary of his death and the death of their beloved grandfather. They replaced the headstone, as was only fitting.

Even though they were sad about Angel giving up his life, they knew he’d never be happy without his Will. Fiona, Ryan and their families knew they were together, loving each other for eternity. Beidh mo chroi istigh ionat go deo deo.
 

Gaelic Translation

Le mo ghrasa mise, agus liomsa mo ghrá – I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine (Song of Songs, Psalm 6:3)

Beidh mo chroi istigh ionat go deo deo – I will love you forever and ever.

Poetry Credit

For still together shall we go and not
Fare forth alone to front eternity.
Love and Death by Sara Teasdale
 

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