*****
Prologue

Angel grabbed Spike roughly by his duster and lifted him up off the island counter in the middle of the Summers' kitchen.

"Where are they?" He snarled. The blond vampire shoved his sire.

"Doesn't work like that, Peaches. And when did you become all soul-having again? I thought you outgrew that." Spike turned to the Slayer, unable to suppress his sneer. "Your friend's gonna work a little magic for me. She does my spell, I let them both go."

Buffy narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You're not famous for keeping your promises, Spike,"

"Well, if your great poof here wants to tag along, that's fine." The vampire dropped his cocky voice to a hiss and glared at the petite girl. "But if you get in my way, *you* kill your friends."

Buffy and Angel exchanged frustrated glances.

*****
Part 1:

"Oh god," Spike moaned, stopping in his tracks and slapping a palm to his forehead. "I think I'm sobering up,"

"Really." Angel commented disinterestedly as they walked down the street towards the magic shop.

"It's horrible," the blond whined doubling over. "I wish I was dead."

"Good news then. You're already dead."

"Well spotted, Angel-puss,"

"Thanks, I should know. After all, I killed you.."

Spike squeezed his eyes shut, willing his budding hangover away. After a moment, he straightened up and slowly continued down the street. Angel wordlessly fell into step beside his childe. Uncomfortable and tense silence filled the time it took for the two vampires to make it to their destination.

Subtly opening the door with a well-placed kick, Angel entered the darkened store first, ripping away the yellow police tape stretched across the room.

"Your work, I assume?" he commented, not really expecting a reply from the sullen blond. Spike insolently gave Angel's broad back a two-fingered salute. The dark haired vampire spun around, just missing the younger man's endearing reply.

"Here's your list," He said, shoving a crumpled piece of paper into his sire's hands. Angel perused the list quickly.

"Essence of violet...cloves...runic tablets..." he murmured, scanning over the rest of the ingredients before making a small noise of disgust. "You can get the rat's eyes,"

"So precious.." Spike mocked as he moved to a shelf and scanned its contents. The blond sniffled morosely as he read label after label. "All these eyeballs and entrails... reminds me of her,"

Angel snorted rudely, and the blond turned.

"I don't find anything funny about you bludging and two of your pet humans dying because of it. Hang on half a mo'-" he struck a thoughtful pose. "- actually, I do!" Spike smirked in triumph when his sire's posture stiffened. Angel's fingers brushed over the surface of a table lightly.

"With comedy like that, I can't understand *why* Dru would just leave you.." Spike glared venomously over his shoulder and continued his strained search.

"You don't understand a helluva lot. But this spell's gonna get her back,"

"A lot of trouble for somebody who doesn't really care about you.."

The blond whirled around. "Shut your yap!"

"She really is just kind of fickle-" Angel pressed.

"*Shut up*!" Spike yelled and ran straight for his sire. The younger vampire got a good punch to Angel's face before the older man was able to catch his arm midswing and pin it to his side. The blond raised his other arm and threw it across the exposed throat, pressing down hard on the Adam's apple. Angel gasped in surprise, staring into the tear-streaked and anger distorted face of his childe. After a moment's hesitation, he was able to pull the offending arm away from his neck and pin that to the errant vampire's side as well.

"Shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up!" Spike screamed into Angel's face, thrashing uncontrollably. But after thirty seconds or so, he gave up his futile struggles. The dark haired vampire pushed him away. The blond staggered back half a dozen steps, but miraculously managed to keep his footing.

"What the bloody fuck would you know, anyway? This is all your fault, don't even try to deny it!" Angel took a step forward, but the younger vampire immediately took another step backwards.

"Spike, I-"

"Don't. You. Dare. Don't even effin' well *speak* to me."

"Fine," Angel shrugged and retrieved the discarded list.

"No, it's *not* fine. Look what you two have done to me.." he inhaled a deep shuddering sob. The older vampire sighed softly. This man standing before him was not William the Bloody - brutal killer.. was not even Spike - tough leatherclad punk... he was... pathetic. Looking so helpless and sad and angry. Angel couldn't help but feel bad.

"Snap out of it! You're an embarrassment." He barked, hoping his sharp tone would jar some sense into the other man.

Spike's eyes blazed with animosity. "No! You don't get to do that!"

"Do what?" Angel's brows met with confusion.

"Slip back into the 'masterful sire' role. You tried that last year, and it didn't take then."

Angel raised his palms up in a gesture that would hopefully mollify Spike. "Hey, settle down," The blond started pacing.

"I can't believe this has happened to me again... what have I ever done to deserve the crap I get dealt? I'm a good demon... I kill, I maim, I wound... and what do I get for my trouble? Royally screwed is what!" Spike dropped into a crouch and rested his head in his hands.

"How can the same shit happen to the same bloke twice?" he whispered brokenly. The dark haired vampire still looked puzzled.

"Dru's left you before?"

"No, you thick twat, people I've loved have left me! Hell, do you have to have everything spelt out for you? Dru's left now and you le-" Spike stopped mid-rant and ran a hand self-consciously through cropped peroxide locks. "Look, people have left, okay?"

Angel stared at his childe, the expression on his face betraying his utter surprise at the younger vampire's outburst. Although, he couldn't say he was completely shocked. Spike had always been more emotional than perhaps demons were supposed to be. And as a childe, William had been one to crave affection and responded better to attention and fondness, where Angelus would have normally used force and domination. His demon hadn't minded, because it too had felt an unusual desire for leniency with the attractive youth. If only slightly.

"I'm sorry," Angel said quietly, not knowing quite what else to do.

"Don't pretend you care, Peaches. I'm liable to suck out your eyeballs."

"Well, I am."

"For what?" Spike leant against a wall of shelves making the bottles and jars it contained clink slightly. "What does your little soul tell you to be sorry for now? Turning me? Teaching me? How about the caring for me? If you ever did... does it tell you it was wrong to care for a soulless demon? Well, does it?" Angel remained silent. "Does it repent for teaching me to be just as bloodthirsty as you used to be?" Angel's stoic face did not betray the guilt that seeped through ever pore, but the blond could *feel* it anyway, radiating in waves from his sire's stiff-postured form.

"Does that pesky little soul remember the nights we spent together... the ones that had nothing to do with death.. or pain.. or the world.. except us?" The younger vampire walked unhurriedly over to Angel and moved his mouth to whisper in his sire's ear. "Has it forgotten? Or are those memories still banging about in there?"

Angel surreptitiously smelt the scent of his childe.. leather and alcohol and maleness combined with something erotically spicy that no-one else he had ever met possessed. It was alluring, intoxicating, unforgettable.

"No."

"Liar," Spike chuckled and pulled back, and met Angel's troubled gaze with his ice-blue eyes. The older vampire felt as if they saw right through the layers he wore to protect himself, to separate himself from others. Those cerulean orbs cut through the pain and the differences and the soul to find that bright burst of flame in the core of his being. And it was like looking in the mirror for the first time in two hundred years. Everything he felt was reflected in Spike's unwavering glance. "I may still hate you with most of my being, but not all of it. I just can't."

Angel wasn't sure whether it was the blood roaring in his ears, or whether it was the demon. Memories of not Spike, but William flooded his mind, taking him back to a time before curses, before slayers and definitely before peroxide. The older vampire's body and demon ached for that physical and emotional closeness again. He used to have it with William, he used to have it with Buffy, but now he could have it with neither. It hurt more than he could have believed possible -- with the exception of that five century stint in Hell.

But here was his old companion.. old *lover*.. standing there telling him he could never truly hate him? Granted, it wasn't the declaration of love his soul was crying out for -- nor was it from the right person -- but at least it was *something*... someone who saw the monster beneath his skin and didn't shy away. It was comforting and abhorrent and sure as hell confusing all at once.

Angel tried to force down his raging thoughts in the hope of forming coherent sentences and cleared his throat. "Spike?"

"What?" The older vampire mutely pointed to the jar sitting on a nearby tabletop. "Ah.. rat's eyes..." He picked up the glass and passed it from one hand to the other. "So you're eyesight's not that bad...for an old guy. Good."

Angel blinked, watching Spike close up from him, wearing his familiar masks of cynicism and aloofness. The dark haired vampire swore to himself and silently began collecting the rest of the ingredients, putting them into brown paper bags.

"You got everything?" he asked his childe.

"Yep," Spike replied, popping the 'p'.

"Let's get this over with then, shall we?" Angel remarked distantly as he walked out the door.

"Don't fret, Peaches, I'll be out of your life again soon enough," The blond followed Angel morosely out of the magic shop. Spike quickened his pace and caught up to his sire's long strides. "You'd think you didn't like having me around."

"Spike, I'll give you a little tip -- no-one likes having you around. When you are, you tend to cause trouble."

The younger vampire gasped in mock horror. "What? Little old William the Bloody?"

"William the Bloody Nuisance, maybe,"

A forced laugh filled Angel's ears, tinged with bitterness and resentment. "I'm heartbroken, truly," Spike juggled the paper bag full of spell ingredients to wipe an imaginary tear from his eye. Angel glanced at his childe, detecting the crack in his emotional armor and wondered if that tear really was imaginary. "Don't worry your foofy head. As soon as our bit of business is transacted I'll be out of your unlife once again; no trouble at-"

Spike ran headlong into a group of half a dozen vampires. His lip curled back in recognition of one of his old men heading the party.

"Hello *Spike*." Lenny smiled sardonically through a fang-filled mouth.

"-all." Spike finished, shoulder's slumping. Plastering a fake friendly expression on his face, the blond greeted the vampire before him.

"Lenny," he acknowledged. "Just what I need," Spike whispered to himself. Angel gave him a sidelong glance before returning his gaze of cold disdain to Lenny. "How've you been?" The younger vampire spoke up.

"Better since you left. You should have stayed gone."

Spike laughed to himself and dropped the bag of spell ingredients to the ground. "Is that right?"

"Spike," Angel hissed. "Who the hell is this? He looks familiar."

"This pissant" the blond announced, pointing at Lenny. "used to work for me."

Lenny turned his attention to the older man. "Angelus. Always a pleasure." Angel nodded his head, his face an inscrutable mask. "Heard you were helping the Slayer again." The vampire clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Can't say I'm really surprised at that. But I *am* surprised you're hanging around *this* loser again." Lenny gestured to the bleach blond becoming increasingly agitated. Angel laid a hand on Spike's arm, stopping him from barreling headfirst into him.

The vampire Lenny spoke to Angel, but never took his eyes away from Spike. "You can walk away from this."

Without hesitation, the older man moved to stand behind his childe. "I don't think so." he said, voice resolute. Spike's eyebrow raised slightly -- the only physical indication of his surprise -- but didn't break eye contact with his opponent.

Lenny shrugged and laughed. Spike and Angel saw the reason for his laughter. Where there were once six vampires, there were now eight.. now ten.. now twelve.. with more emerging from the shadows all the time. "Suit yourself." And then they attacked.

*****
Part 2:

Angel immediately bared white teeth and darted off to his right as a snarling game-faced vampire lunged at him. The dark haired vampire ducked a sloppy swing and punched his attacker in the stomach, who immediately concertinaed to the ground at the force of the blow. Without turning around, Angel brought the back of his fist across the jaw of another attacking vampire, listening for the crack of bone before following up with a sharp elbow to the gut.

Distracted by his sire's unexpected leap into the foray, Spike was taken unawares by a kick to the chest. Sailing through the air, he landed heavily on the hood of a nearby car. The blond had just enough time to shake himself out of his stupor and curse his carelessness before rolling out of the way of a length of pipe aimed for his head. Establishing some footing on the smooth surface of the car, Spike stood and quickly and lashed out with his foot, taking Pipe-boy down.

The younger man narrowed his eyes and took appraisal of the vampires closing in on his position. He spared his sire a brief glance, impressed with the way Angel got up from a roll to immediately toss a heavily set vampire head first into a trash can. The blond flicked his tongue over his lips watching the corded muscles in the older man's neck and his thighs under dark, restricting pants, strain with effort to accomplish the feat. His view was blocked, however as a tall, gangly, growling attacker clambered up over the windshield to stand in front of him.

"D'you mind, mate?" Spike ducked a wild punch effortlessly and countered with a devastating one of his own, sending the wraith-like vampire flying off the car and onto the concrete. "I'm *trying* to have a bit of a perve,"

Angel swept the legs out from underneath his attacker, flipping him over his back. He looked up briefly to see how his childe was faring. Spike kept court on the hood of the car, viciously fending off anyone foolish enough to try and take him out from his high position. He mentally admired Spike's ability to fight while also wrestling with a hangover, as a shard of wood from a broken sign became useful in dusting his opponent.

The fighting raged on. No sooner did either of the vampires dust or put an enemy out of commission, at least two took its place. They were seriously outnumbered, and fighting individually against such great odds was not going to up *their* odds of survival.

The dark haired vampire was beginning to tire. And if he was beginning to tire, Spike must be *exhausted*. He wasn't one hundred percent at the beginning of the fight. To Angel's mind, it was a miracle the blond was still throwing punches at all. He shuddered to think at the massacre it would have been if Spike had been on his own. Unbidden, that thought was like a sliver of wood burrowing deep into his heart. Angel turned to look at his childe in reassurance and his already cool blood turned to ice.

Spike's face was showing signs of strain. A purplish bruise appeared on his forehead and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. His movements were becoming less precise and accurate, and more desperate. The younger man had just dispatched another vampire, and was leaning on bent knees, unconsciously panting with exertion.

And about to be completely blindsighted and staked by a slavering female vampire.

The panic that overtook Angel's mind somehow did not affect the functions of his body. His numb fingers automatically picked up a broken fence paling about two and a half feet long, and threw it like a javelin. The female's mouth opened in surprise, but her corporeal form was dust before she had a chance to protest. So astonishing was the force behind the throw, the wooden shaft had hit the female dead in the heart and passed right through her, continuing its journey to embed itself in the upper thigh of another vampire, who howled in agony.

Spike looked up at his sire, surprise etched on his worn features. Angel charged towards him, a low rumble permeating the air, lips curled back in a snarl and ravaged a short, possessive, harsh kiss from his childe. He pressed their foreheads together until their noses touched and looked straight into startled blue eyes.

"Too vulnerable out here," He ground out, roughly. "Inside." They cast a quick eye around the place. All vampires who hadn't been dusted were starting to stir, and they could make out the glowing eyes of at least four more in the shadows, ready to join the battle. The dark haired vampire grabbed the collar of Spike's duster and hauled him in the direction of the magic shop.

Angel dropped his shoulder and barreled through the closed door. Spike was a step behind him and slammed it shut. He looked around and saw the dark haired vampire putting his shoulder to use once again in pushing a cabinet across the floor in the hopes to block the entrance. Spike took the other side and dragged it into place. But already the shelving units were rattling as the vampires on the other side pounded on the door.

Spike backed off slowly. There was no way he was giving up, but he was so *tired*. Combine his hangover with the emotional trauma of just being within spitting distance of his sire, the blond was ready to drop. Angel scanned the room with a practiced eye, looking for weapons. A violent stomp reduced a wooden chair that had been lying on the floor into a pile of stakes. He grabbed two and turned back to his childe. Spike looked about ready to combust from fatigue. But the blond's jaw was set tight, his blue eyes focussed on the concealed door, cold and calculating, meaning intent.

Either all these vampires were going to be thoroughly beaten and/or dusted, or..

Or he was leaving this room by way of a vacuum cleaner.

The simple notion that his childe might not survive this battle was in itself such a frightening concept that Angel's hands actually trembled. It spurred him to walk over to Spike and run a finger down the chiseled cheekbones that pointed directly to soft, pink lips.

Spike was jolted from his intense state of mind at the dark haired vampire's touch. He closed his eyes and a tear seeped from the corner of one. This was so fucking typical. In approximately four minutes, he was most likely going to get staked. And his sire suddenly chooses *now* to become all touchy-feely again?! Why couldn't it have happened one year ago? Hell, why not one *hour* ago? Just not now...

Not now when all he wanted to do was to fall into Angel's embrace and never come out...

He opened his eyes but refused to look up into the deep brown pools that were his sire's eyes. Angel brushed his fingers over Spike's pursed lips, down his chin and lifted the blond's head to meet his gaze. He could feel the fear and regret and bitterness in the younger man's form, no matter how deeply it was physically concealed. Thoughts sent from his brain about how wrong this was, and how foolish he was helping this vampire, who had tried to kill Buffy on god-knows-how-many occasions were resoundingly quashed as Angel's demon fought with his soul for the right to protect his progeny. His boy. His William.

"Nothing's going to happen to you, childe. I won't *let* it." And with that, Angel kissed Spike's furrowed forehead softly and handed him a stake.

The blond gripped the stake until his knuckles turned white and waited for the inevitable attack. He was stupid. Stupid to be in Sunnyhell again, stupid to have been cornered in a magic shop by a swarm of pissed vampires, stupid to be here with Angel, practically painting a target on his deepest emotions and handing him a gun saying "Happy shooting!", stupid to be even listening to the dark haired vampire's words of protection.

But what he was doing now was far outweighing all this stupidity combined.

Spike was believing him.

The crash and tinkle of glass behind them signified that the vampires had surrounded the building, and were currently climbing through the window behind them. Angel spun around, duster whipping about his legs and launched himself at the incoming bloodsuckers. The sound of splintering wood snapped Spike's head forward as three vampires destroyed the cabinet that had been blocking the front door. His lips curled back, baring white blunt teeth that inexplicably elongated and sharpened, and charged.

The first to enter's dust showered down on Spike as the remaining two vampires slowed their attack, quietly shocked at the speed in which the blond had taken their companion out with. He chuckled grimly as the two remaining minions stalled, rethinking their offensive. That was all the time the Master vampire needed.

The first to attack was the slightly taller of the two. Spike bent at the last moment, flipping his opponent over his back and onto the floor, where the blond brought his foot down sharply on the exposed neck, breaking it. The other was tripped up with a sweep of black jeans-clad legs and landed fatally on the remains of the cabinet they had so dutifully splintered in their haste to get inside. Spike ran his tongue over sharp teeth and grinned, running headlong into the replacement vamps entering the shop.

Angel systematically broke ribs of the newest vampire to come through the door, shattering bone into tiny fragments that, even with an accelerated healing capacity, would take maybe months to repair.

The dark haired vampire staked his wounded attacker.

And then again? Maybe not.

His head whipped around to see the newest threat. Lenny climbed through the window, grinning moronically at the older vampire. Angel smiled grimly. This was *just* the vamp he wanted to meet. Lenny looked around, seeing piles of dust, and grievously injured minions everywhere, but was unconcerned. Spike and Angel were trapped in this tiny shop, hopelessly outnumbered, and beginning to tire.

He had it made. Mayor Wilkins had given him specific instructions not to harm Angel -- not wanting to over-aggravate the Slayer -- unless he became too much of an annoyance, which the older vampire most definitely was at the moment. Both sire and childe's deaths were assured, practically already accounted for now. It didn't matter to Lenny either way, as long as he got to destroy and kill. Being paid was just icing on the cake.

Angel circled Lenny slowly, and surreptitiously began backing out into the open. He wanted the pleasure of dusting this prick in privacy, but the only way they were getting out of here was if someone was made an example of, and the dickhead stupid enough to insult both him and his childe seemed like as good a candidate as anyone. He also knew that Lenny knew he was better fighting in closed quarters, and getting out into the open would seem like a disadvantage. But Angel had something on his side that would assure his victory.

Rage. Pure and unadulterated, courtesy of his demon. Who was majorly pissed at having its childe threatened.

Yes, Lenny would make a fine example to the rest of this rabble.

Lenny observed Angel's seeming retreat and became even more cocky. "I'm a bit disappointed you're not already dead, but hey," the badly dressed vampire shrugged. "the violence does me good. Gets me out of the lair."

"What can I say?" Angel murmured as he moved further out into the open, but used the shadows of furniture to conceal his face. "I'm a letdown to a lot of people."

Lenny laughed. "You got *that* right! Man I can't *believe* you've got the nerve to show your face around here after all that shit with the Slayer... talk about humiliation.." Angel moved further out, the only visible part of his face being two eyes glowing dangerously from the darkness. Lenny continued his idiotic diatribe. "I mean, you're helping her, then you do it! You become evil again and for what? Rejoin your loser childer and fail just as spectacularly as they did." Lenny shook his head and clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I gotta say, that's pathetic."

"Really?" a hissing whisper asked.

"Yep! And you know what's even *worse* than that?"

"Why don't you tell me?" Angel's hushed voice replied.

"You get back from Hell.. I mean.. *Hell*, man! You shoulda come back a bigger badass than ever! But no, first thing you do is become the Slayer's pet again. That's just tragic." Angel's fists clenched and unclenched in the darkness. He was suddenly aware that many of the vampires, including the ones Spike was battling, were focussing on the exchange interestedly. Obviously, the outcome of this little skirmish was going to determine the victors of the evening.

"You know what, Lenny?" The older vampire's voice issued from the shallow dark.

"What?" the vampire answered, foolishly unafraid.

Angel chuckled and moved silently around behind Lenny, unbeknownst to him. He picked up a pair of flat, metal tongs used for picking up spell components on the way. "You talk too much." The sibilant whisper right next to his ear made Lenny jump, but it was too late. Angel had him in a rather painful wrestler's hold.

"Now," he said, actually smiling. "Open your mouth and say 'aahhh' ".

"Wh-what?!" Lenny whimpered.

Spike dusted his opponent. He was in no immediate danger from anyone else, seeing as all eyes were glued to the two vampires in the middle of the store. The blond studied his sire's posture and the way his voice took on that whimsical, almost sing-song quality. So it was true enough. Even if not completely, Angel had loosened Angelus' reigns just enough for a little play.

"Better do what he says, mate." Spike strolled closer to the struggling vamp. "Angelus doesn't really like to repeat himself,"

"Y-y-ou mean *Angel*... don't you..?" Lenny stuttered.

Angel bent the vampire's arm back enough to hear an agonizing howl. "No, my dear childe is correct..." he let his voice taper off for full effect. A hushed whisper traveled around the vampire's watching like wildfire, and a few began to scope the nearest exits.

"Angelus?" Lenny asked in a babyish whisper.

Angel smirked and looked up at Spike. "He remembers me!"

Spike snorted. "You're kind of hard to forget."

The dark haired vampire turned back to Lenny. "Now, do I have to ask you again?" The air of danger surrounding him crackled like electricity.

"Aaahh?" Lenny opened his mouth hesitantly. In an instant, he screamed as Angel clamped the tongs around his tongue and pulled it out through his lips. Lenny began to thrash and Spike jumped in, taking Angel's place in the wrestling hold. Angel perused the shelves until he came across one containing about a dozen bottles of holy water. Turning back, he nodded in approval at Spike's assistance.

"It's been so long since we've spent some quality time together, hasn't it, boy?" Angel unscrewed the cap of one of the tiny bottles and shook a few drops onto Lenny's tongue. Spike waited for the strangled shriek to choke off before he replied.

"Yeah. Don't think there was much in the way of father-son outings last year.."

"True.." Angel contemplated, shaking a few more drops onto the vampire's outstretched muscle. He fell back into silence and enjoyed the hiss of the water on flesh, and the subsequent smoke it created. Lenny's tongue was bleeding and torn. His strangled cries had gone from almost coherent words to deep unintelligible moans emanating from the pit of his throat.

Angel looked to Spike. "I think I've made my point. Do you have anything else to add?" The blond's eyes gleamed at the opportunity.

"As a matter of fact.." Spike loosened his hold on Lenny, and Angel clamped a hand firmly on the vampire's bicep, having discarded the tongs. The blond moved around to face Lenny. "I'm not really in the mood for speeches, more of an action kinda guy meself. So just relax and enjoy your pain. After all, it's going to be the last thing you're ever going to feel." With that, Spike set about breaking each one of Lenny's fingers. Each snap was accompanied by a throaty gargling, his power of speech long lost. With each break, Spike arranged the snapped digits in a macabre pattern, making it look like the vampire had the worst case of arthritis in the world.

Once all ten were broken, Spike stepped back to marvel at his handiwork, and also widen the view for those watching, whose numbers had significantly dwindled. Angel let go of Lenny, who wasn't going anywhere. The pain was too intense for him to even move away. The dark haired vampire circled Lenny's swaying form, making eye contact with every last vampire still watching the show. When he reached the front again, Angel turned to his audience with a flourish.

"This is what happens when anyone messes with me-" a stake appeared from his sleeve and embedded itself in Lenny's chest. "-or my childer."

The attackers had cleared the street by the time Lenny's dust settled on the magic shop floor.

*****
Part 3:

With the danger seemingly gone, Spike sat heavily down on a table and shut his eyes tightly. Angel watched him silently for a moment, before walking to him and once again lifting his chin with a tapered finger. He brushed his thumb over swollen lips, cradling the side of the blond's head with his palm. It took all of Spike's restraint and willpower not to nuzzle his sire's hand. For minutes that seemed to span centuries, the two vampires stayed exactly as they were, not moving an inch. Finally, Spike wet his dry, cracked lips and spoke, keeping his eyes firmly shut. If he didn't get the answer he needed to hear, there was no way he wanted to be looking into that angelic face as it crushed him.

"D- did you mean it?"

Angel's insides twisted at Spike's soft question. There was only one answer. "Of course, William. I'll never stop protecting you, no matter what." Spike's eyes flicked open at the mention of his true name. The dark haired vampire's hand moved from the side of Spike's face to the back of his neck, holding the blond's head firmly to make eye contact. "You're *mine*, and no one's ever going to change that."

"But what about the Sla-" Angel's other hand came to rest on Spike's mouth, silencing him.

"This isn't about the S- Buffy" Angel corrected, letting out a deep shuddering breath at her name ".. or about Drusilla, or anyone else.... it's about us." The older man pressed his lips softly to Spike's bruised ones, tasting blood from where it was split. Angel drew back and touched his forehead to Spike's. "*Us*."

With that, Angel found himself forced backwards as Spike launched himself off the table, wrapped his arms and legs around the older vampire's body and smashed their lips together. The momentum propelled him into a small, carpeted backroom that had somehow missed being trashed in the onslaught.

The edge of the ratty carpet caught on Angel's heel, sending both vampires crashing to the ground amidst a stream of muttered curses -- younger on top of older, nose to nose. Spike's arms and legs were still wrapped around his sire's larger form. Angel lifted a hand and rubbed the back of his head with a grimace.

"Oops."

Spike chuckled at the dark haired vampire's self-deprecating expression. Angel tried for an irritated expression but failed miserably. His eyes met the crystalline blue pair of his childe's, and the throbbing in the back of his head miraculously disappeared. The blond's mirthful face softened. A hesitant tongue darted out to moisten dry lips. The silence that they shared now was not uncomfortable and strained as before, but rather clement and filled with forbearance.

Angel studied the classically sculpted face, wondering if he had ever seen anything else quite so beautiful in his long life. He lifted a finger to trace it down a well-defined cheekbone, an action he had oft repeated in the past. This time, Spike leant towards the outstretched hand, craving his sire's contact. The dark haired vampire once again cradled the side of the younger man's face, who turned his head and began to swirl his tongue in lazy circles on Angel's salty palm, making the older man's toes curl.

Then almost without warning, the lips moved from his palm to his mouth in a kiss that was both insistent and infinitely tender. It was nothing like any kiss they had ever shared before. There was no undertone of dominance, possession or ownership -- it just... *was*. Angel's eyes fell shut and a multitude of colours danced behind closed lids, mirroring the multitude of emotions coursing through his body.

Angel's lips were pressed against Spike's almost chastely. They moved slowly and gently, soothing bruised tissue and instilling comfort. His body was reacting to the blond's caresses in a predictable fashion, but he was not going to be the first one to break this unique moment because he had a hard on. Spike's hands were curled around the lapels of his sire's shirt, keeping their mouths joined. Feeling the familiar mouth against his after so many years sent little pinpricks of heat up and down the younger vampire's spine. As kisses went, this one was perfect in every way. And it just made him crave more.

The first touch of the blond man's tongue probing for entry sent shivers of pleasure through Angel's body. He acquiesced, and parted his lips. Intensifying the kiss with his cold, firm tongue, the younger vampire swept into his sire's mouth, silently exalting in Angel's low moan, and the hands that flew to his shoulders and bunched up the leather duster in tight fists. Spike would had laughed but made his own noises of approval as Angel's tongue was coaxed into play. How could one kiss be so gentle and yet maintain and increase its passion? The blond didn't know, and didn't care, such thoughts being far from important at the present time.

Not parting lips for a moment, Spike attempted to remove Angel's three-quarter length duster from his shoulders, to little affect. Not wanting to relinquish the incredible kiss just yet, the blond began tugging violently at the buttons of the older vampire's dark shirt, unconsciously grinding his hips down to the tune of more strangled moans of pleasure. Unable to accomplish the unfastening of even one button, he abruptly pulled away from Angel, making what sounded like a petulant growl. Looking down at his sire's heavy lids and kiss-swollen mouth incensed his destructive nature.

The younger vampire lashed out at the delicate fabric, rendering large tears in what was once an expensive shirt. What normally would have infuriated his sire -- soul or no soul -- did not even cross the mind of the dark-haired vampire as he endeavoured to divest Spike of his duster. Which got snagged on the blond's bent elbows and refused to budge.

Spike, still straddling the older man's waist, sat upright and shot Angel an aggravated glare. Batting useless hands away, he slipped the duster off with little trauma. The red button down shirt and black tee joined the pile a moment later. Never breaking eye contact with his childe, Angel removed his own black duster and tore away the remnants of the tattered shirt he wore, grimacing as the action strained his shoulder.

A short and very quiet gasp of pain drew Spike's attention away from the dark haired vampire's fathomless brown eyes to a large purplish bruise on his left shoulder. Dark and angry, it had been caused by ramming that part of his body first up against the magic shop door to gain entry, and then a cabinet to block it off. Hard wooden corners had marred otherwise flawless pale skin.

The blond frowned ever so slightly, lines creasing his forehead, and traced a fingertip over the edge of the bruise. Angel gasped -- not out of pain, for Spike's touch was featherlight -- at the tingling pins and needles sensation it caused. It felt as if spiders were running up and down his left arm. With an aching slowness that Angel wouldn't have believed his hyperactive childe capable of, Spike leant close and placed a soft kiss to the abrasion.

The dark haired vampire bit the inside of his mouth until he tasted blood to stop himself from grabbing the blond violently and ravaging him. He chose instead to rotate his hips, allowing their clothing-clad erections friction against each other. A small growl of pleasure rumbled in the back of Spike's throat and he pulled back.

"Better?" Spike asked, looking up almost shyly through dark lashes.

"Much." Angel managed to choke out coarsely. He hardly recognised his own voice, so thick with desire. It was a wonder he had held out for this long at all. Praised be to vampire staying power. All hopes of reacting logically and in a measured fashion were lost when those deep blue pools locked with his eyes -- dark and stormy, like looking into the ocean during a downpour.

Angel pulled the body of his childe close, claiming his mouth in a fervent kiss, relishing at the touch of skin as cool as his own. Spike's hands snaked up behind the older man, coming to tangle themselves in his thick, dark hair. The younger vampire immediately tasted a tiny drop of his sire's blood and responded more fiercely than before. Like the bead of water to a thirsty man, Spike plundered Angel's mouth in the hope of experiencing that most powerful elixir again. Angel's arms wrapped themselves around the blond's lean and muscled torso, digging fingers into his back.

Spike gasped as his sire's nails left little crescent moons in his back that soon welled with blood. The smell of the crimson fluid filled both their nostrils, as did the scent of arousal. Angel flung his right arm back to steady himself and whacked it into a small cabinet. The dark haired vampire made a noise of discomfort into Spike's mouth and pulled away reluctantly. The blond sat back on his haunches as Angel rubbed his elbow. The corners of those pink lips turned up as the older man steadied himself once again. Their eyes met, mahogany carrying an unspoken question to azure.

"Yes." Spike answered instantly.

Angel's face, apart from the barely concealed desire threatening to break his control, weighed heavily with concern. "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

"Only fools are positive.."

Spike smirked. "Are you sure?"

"I'm positi-" The blond's shoulders moved up and down in silent laughter, and Angel scowled. His irritated expression only made Spike laugh harder. A low growl began in the older vampire's throat and with lightning speed he pinned the smaller man to the floor, kissing that laughing mouth thoroughly. The blond's merriment faded into gasps and moans as Angel's expert tongue devastated him.

Out of nowhere cool hands tracked their way down to Angel's waist, and unfastened his straining trousers. Black silk stretched tightly, barely concealing the older man's erection. At the first brush of his childe's hand, Angel almost exploded. In the scheme of things, it *had* been a few centuries since he'd felt the willing touch of someone else.

Clamping his eyes shut, the dark vampire lost his ability to continue plundering Spike's mouth. The blond, a triumphant smile curling his lips, gently pushed his sire onto his back. Angel made a move to get up, but quickly stilled it as he felt one shoe being tugged off, then the other, his socks violently pulled off by their toes. Lifting his hips, he aided in the removal of his trousers and boxers. His cock ached, but the blond took great pains to insure the throbbing member wasn't accidentally brushed. The dark haired vampire opened his mouth to object when an icy finger silenced it, and was then replaced with a chilled mouth.

Spike nipped playfully at Angel's beautiful, full lips before travelling down his thick, muscled neck, teasing his tongue over the place where his sire's pulse would be. A snarl rumbled through the room, and the blond knew he was on the right track. Continuing down, Spike dragged blunt teeth over taunt pectorals, stopping to tug on one flat nipple, then the other. The rumble increased in volume as a wet trail was made down in between the defined pecs, over the slight swell of the belly, and down the fine snail trail of hair over Angel's lower abdomen.

Angel almost cried out in desperation when Spike's lips made no effort to go lower, and were removed. At the first tender stroke of the blond's hand on Angel's cock, the older vampire quite imagined he would spontaneously combust. Spike's hands seemed to know exactly how much pressure, and where to put it to elicit moans and snarls from his sire.

The younger man dragged the fingers of one hand up Angel's pale shaft, while the other lightly brushed the smattering of dark hair covering his testicles. Spike fell into a languid rhythm, pumping his hand up and down over Angel's cock, wiping away the drops of pre-cum that continued to form at its tip. The dark haired vampire's snarls became louder and Spike thought he recognised a Gaelic swear used in conjunction with his name.

Angel could not take his boy's sweet torture anymore. Ridges formed, canines elongated, the demon took over and with a guttural howl he came in the blond's hand. A fine film of sweat had broken out on his face and torso, and he panted and wheezed and closed his eyes, trying to regain lost composure. They snapped open again when something thumped on his chest with a loud slap.

Spike's boot.

The second worn boot landed on his chest with an equally loud slap of leather against the slightly damp skin of his stomach. Angel sat up, and glowered at his childe, demonic golden eyes meeting icy blue, and it was like an electric current between them. A split second later he had Spike pinned to the floor once again, expertly undoing the belt buckle and fly with one hand, while the other kept the errant vampire to the floor.

The dark haired vampire leaned down and nuzzled Spike's inner thigh. He scraped his fangs over the femoral artery, applying just enough pressure so as to draw blood. Angel growled when the blond vampire rotated his hips with pleasure at his sire tasting his blood, and stilled the movement. Willing his vampiric countenance away, Angel trailed his tongue up the underside of Spike's cock, and engulfed the weeping crown when he reached the top.

The younger vampire's hips bucked off the ground, trying to force himself further into Angel's cool, wet mouth. The older man laughed silently and held Spike's lean hips down, swirling his tongue around the mushroom head in his mouth. What sounded like strange, half-choked gurgling sounds and veiled threats streamed from the blond's mouth as without warning, Angel relaxed the muscles in the back of his throat and took Spike's entire length in his mouth, kneading his balls mercilessly with one hand.

As with his sire, Spike could not take the pleasure denied him centuries by fate for very long. At least, not right now. His loins were on fire and a human mask was impossible to maintain. Slender finger's found their way into thick, silky hair as the blond held Angel's head down. Angel swallowed steadily as his childe exploded in his mouth, with what sounded like a cross between a snarl, a sob, and 'Angelus'.

Slowly releasing Spike's softening cock, Angel sat up. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and observed his childe's still form, looking for all the world like some master painter's odalisque. Perfectly beautiful. The dark haired vampire looked past him and wondered where all the turmoil from the past couple of months that had plagued sleeping and waking thoughts had vanished to. All the guilt.. well okay, not *all* the guilt... but the loneliness and isolation and sadness almost felt like they had happened to someone else... and it was all because of his childe. His perfectly beautiful chi-

"Hey, you poof, no brooding after a blowjob." Angel refocused on Spike's handsome face. A wicked smile curved his lips, but those crystalline eyes did not seem quite so empty. That inner spark that always lit his William up from the inside -- that had been so dead when he'd first seen him in Sunnydale hours before -- had ignited, and was burning brightly.

Just like it used to.

"I wasn't brooding," Angel protested as he crawled closer. "I was-

"Brooding." Spike finished, looking around in an annoyed fashion. "Fuck, I need a ciggie after that."

Angel chuckled and moved closer still, until his face was inches away from his childe's. "Spike, Spike, Spike..." he tsked. "What makes you think we're finished?

*****
Part 4:

"My sock is missing."

"So?"

"*So*... how can I get dressed with a missing sock?"

Spike blew a jet of smoke out of his mouth irritably. "Peaches, your shirt has more tears in it that a pair of 70's faded stonewash denims -- a missing sock is the *least* of your fashion problems." Angel took a look at his ruined shirt, sighed, and kicked it into a corner. He slipped his arms carefully through the sleeves of his black duster and buttoned it up as far as it would go.

"I guess this'll have to do.." the dark haired vampire sighed again, before successfully stifling a smirk. "I suppose I can go out for once looking as shabby as you..."

"Oi!" Spike protested, flicking the butt of the burning cigarette at Angel, who nimbly sidestepped it. Angel studied his childe, who now stood with his hands stuffed in his duster pockets, head down, rocking backwards and forwards on his feet.

"Are you going to do the spell?" The older vampire asked his childe, curious but also dreading the answer. Spike was bad. Spike was evil. Spike was a murderer. Spike was familiar. Spike was understanding. Spike was his.

The blond's face grew thoughtful. "I don't think so. I might just.. try and find her, y'know? I can't have turned into *that* much of a ponce that I can't get her back..." a strained smile appeared on his face. "I mean, I haven't turned into you *just* yet..."

A ghost of a smile crossed Angel's face, even though he was breaking inside.

Spike was insolent. Spike was disobedient. Spike was trouble. Spike was vibrant. Spike was energetic. Spike was impulsive.

Spike was leaving.

Anything else currently going on in his bland existence seemed even more insignificant compared to that one, simple, truth.

Spike was leaving.

If the blond was just going to breeze in and out of his life in this unpredictable fashion, so be it. But he'd rot in Hell for another five hundred years before he showed his pain. So many people he had cared about had left him... what was one more?

Besides, a logical thought had begun to eat away at his brain... how would he explain his childe's presence to the current Slayer and her ilk? He already had to face the fact that he was going to have to come to some harsh decisions about his and Buffy's relationship in light of the night's events.. could he really stay with the blond man and have it work? It was so far beyond unlikely, it didn't even rate on the scale.

No, pros and cons weighed, he would take unbearable pain over unexplainable actions for $500, thanks Alex.

The younger vampire watched his sire. Watched as nary an emotion flickered across his stoic face. Spike implored him to do something. Scream, yell, cry, shout, laugh..

Need him.

Oh god, need him like he had come to realise he needed his sire. All he had to say was one word -- stay -- and Spike knew he would never leave. Oh, he still loved Drusilla, always would, but the harsh reality was that she would never love him back again. Not like he wanted. Not like he craved.

Not like Angel.

A sire's love, if one was lucky enough to achieve such a feat, was... how could you possibly describe your own personification of God sharing all that they were with you? Nothing in words could ever do it true justice.

And he had felt some of that again in the last few hours. It was addictive, and there wasn't anything he wasn't willing to give up to feel like he was the centre of his sire's world again.

All Angel had to do was say so.. even *hint* that he wanted his childe to stay... and it was as good as done. But the dark haired vampire's face was like marble. Cold, and handsome, and unfeeling.

An awkward silence hung in the air. Spike could take it no longer. If it was over, it was over and he just wanted to leave. "I'd best be off then. You should prolly get back within range of the Slayer, she can't hear the bell around your neck from here.."

Angel let the insult slide, knowing it was no use to try and defend Buffy's honour to him -- he didn't care. The older man reached his childe in two large strides and pressed a kiss to some healing puncture wounds in the side of Spike's neck. The blond's eyes closed and tears ached to fall, but he refused to show any more weakness.

"'bye Angelus," Spike tried to sound flippant as Angel pulled away, and ran a finger down his cheek, the stoic face finally tinged with some emotion -- sadness.

The blond turned and without a backwards glance, walked away from his sire.

"Goodbye, William." the dark haired vampire breathed to an empty room.

*****
Part 5:

"Hey,"

Angel stopped pacing through the mansion's atrium at the soft voice.

"Hey." He replied, gesturing for Buffy to enter.

The Slayer strolled in and opened up with the first topic of conversation that came to mind. "So how did things go with the bleached wonder? I didn't see him leave.. not that I really *minded* not seeing him again..." She noticed his stiff posture. "Angel, is anything wrong?"

If his palms could sweat from anxiety -- they would be. He suddenly wondered why he could perspire sometimes and not others, for example, he was bathed in sweat earlier in the evening when Spi-

No, no, no, no, no. Wrong train of thought. Completely wrong track. Derailed, even.

Oh god, he had a hard on.

"Angel?" A small hand on his arm startled him. He flinched and stepped back. Buffy looked scared and concerned all at once. "Angel, please tell me.. what's got you so spooked?" She mentally thought back to the word trigger. The petite blond looked up into his pale face and narrowed her eyes. "Was it Spike? Did he do something to you?"

You could say that again.

And again.

And a few more times.

Angel shook his head dumbly.

"Did he say something to you then?"

It wasn't so much what he said, it was the way his mouth wrapped aro-

Angel shook his head dumbly again.

Buffy looked irritated. "Then what's the sitch? Why do I feel you need to switch to decaf?"

Angel had spent most of the rest of the night trying to formulate what he would tell her.

"I'm leaving Sunnydale," he blurted out.

What a waste of three hours.

Buffy drew back, eyes wide and full of hurt and confusion. "Please tell me this is a joke, Angel. I know you've never been one for the spontaneous bouts of humour -- and this isn't even very funny -- but *please* tell me you're not serious..."

Angel looked down on her with remorse. Buffy asked a question that came from the bottom of her breaking heart. "*Why*?"

"We're not friends."

The Slayer's eyebrows knitted in a frown. "Of course we are."

The dark haired vampire's face betrayed pain and regret, his eyes shining with emotion.

"We're either strangers, or we're lovers. I knew from the very first time I ever saw you that it couldn't be anything but. What I want from you, and you want from me... we can never have."

"Angel-"

"Please let me finish, Buffy. Our relationship is either dangerous because we're together, or unfulfilling for you, because you will never be able to experience all you should."

"But I'm full! I'm very full! Brimming over, in fact!" Buffy wrung her hands. "What about *you* Angel, don't you deserve something good?"

Angel dropped his head. "I did have something good. And for a little while, it was wonderful. But my happiness comes at too high a price for any of us to pay.." They both flinched at memories from the previous year. "You make what little there is of a man in me happy. And I can never give that back to you properly." He exhaled deeply. "So I'm leaving."

Buffy's eyes filled up with tears. "There's got to be a way we can still see each other.."

The vampire looked at the Slayer straight in the eye. "Tell me you don't love me."

Buffy opened her mouth and shut it again without uttering a sound. Angel turned his back to her and dropped his head, hoping to erase the image of her tear-streaked, distraught face from his memory. The soft clacking of heels signaled her departure from his home.

The dark haired man turned to go finish packing his meagre belongings when he felt that familiar presence again. Angel asked his own question.

"Why?"

"Your problem is that you've always been unaware of what's right under your nose, Angelus. I intend to rectify that in you." The older vampire turned to face Spike, waiting for a proper answer to his question. The blond hissed in an annoyed fashion.

"I got as far the outskirts of the next town before I turned back. Just because you're a stubborn prick that and can't speak up to hold onto the things you care about, doesn't mean *I* have to be like that."

Angel scoffed. "What, you're suddenly claiming you're not stubborn? Or make mistakes? Or hurt the ones you love?"

"Hey, hey, hey," Spike raised his hands in a warding off gesture. "At least I'm man enough to admit it." The dark haired vampire bit back the retort on the tip of his tongue when he realised the blond was right. His affair with Buffy, as wonderful as it had been, had been doomed from the beginning, through forces beyond his control. But he never wanted to admit it.

He had made mistakes in his time with her, hurt her, hurt her friends, her family.. he had taken responsibility for it, but never admitted to being wrong. Arrogant, prideful and demon-headed -- demons of course thinking they knew everything about everything.

Angel looked at Spike and saw a demon that freely made mistakes, got emotional, and didn't admit to knowing why things happened, or claim to see 'the big picture'. He just existed.

He was more human than the older vampire would ever be.

Perhaps Spike could teach him.

But he needed to hear it. Having just lost the only person in the world who would ever have the ability to make his soul vanish again, he needed something to cling on to.

"Why, William? Why are you back?" His tone was soft, and sad, and brooked no games or sarcastic answers.

"Because you're here, sire. And wherever you are, I want to be, too."

Angel held his arms out and Spike fell into them. Just like he always did. Just like he was always meant to do.

And it felt so right.

"I'm leaving here," Angel said unnecessarily, knowing Spike would have heard the full exchange between himself and Buffy. The blond pressed his cheek against the hard wall of Angel's chest.

"I guess it's a good thing that all my stuff's already packed in me car then, isn't it?"

"You're coming?"

"Didn't you hear what I said in that incredibly poignant moment? Where you go; I go. That is.." a shade of doubt crept into his voice. "If you want me..?" The dark haired vampire replied by snagging Spike's lips in a tender kiss. "So that's a maybe, then?" The blond said cheekily once they had parted.

Angel released Spike, his features growing melancholy. "Be ready to leave when I say." He glanced around the mansion sadly. "I've stayed too long here."

"Listen, you finish getting your stuff from upstairs, I'll grab what's down here, we'll shag in the car and then head off."

The blond's blunt comment was able to cut through the layers of remorse Angel was piling up on himself, and a phantom of a smile played across his face. "Were you always this starved for attention?"

Spike waggled his eyebrows "Born and bred to be love's bitch, mate. You taught me well." The dark haired vampire patted his childe on the ass and headed upstairs.

Soon, all their combined belongings were packed into Spike's battered old DeSoto. And after a quick tussle, Angel sat in the driver's side.

The younger vampire put his feet up on the dash and leant back. "So Peaches, where are we headed?"

"I hear L.A.'s nice this time of year..."

{fin}