*****

Spike ran his fingers through his hair and shot one final sneer toward the brunette vampire sitting inside the abandoned mansion. "Yeah you. You think I'm afraid of you?" The blond drunkenly swung the bottle of brown liquid back up to his mouth and took a long drink. "We were happy. You brainwashed her. I could just...yeah. I'll show you who's the cool guy. You're going down," he promised, pointing one long, pale finger at the oblivious Angel. Spoiling the effect of his own words, Spike tripped on one of the great stone slabs of the garden and passed out cold.

He was woken up the next morning by the sun trying to deep-fry his hand. There was nowhere in the garden that was sufficiently safe from the sun, and there was no way in hell Spike was going to barge into the mansion and spend the day with Angel. [Rather stake meself first.] Actually, the truth was that if he tried to stay inside, Angel would more than likely be happy to do the job for him. Spike knew that even though the stupid poof was supposed to be all bent out of shape about the lives he had taken (which included Spike's, of course), Angel would never hesitate for a second in ending Spike's unlife now. No matter how many times Spike heard about Angel killing demons in order to atone for the lives he had taken, it never failed to make him laugh. He knew the truth. Angel didn't give a rat's ass about atonement. He never had. The only reason that he ran around slaughtering all the baddies was his hope of impressing the Slayer. [The wanker actually thinks he's in love with the stupid bint. Idiot. As if love is nothing but angst and pain and a lot of unrelieved sexual tension. Neither of 'em know the first thing about love. Passion, yeah, maybe. Passion's easy. But *never* love.] Spike didn't really blame the Slayer, though. She was too young to know about real love as opposed to television infatuation. [She saw a handsome face and a wounded soul and that got her knickers sopping wet, and she called it love. Bally-hoo to her, but it ain't.] Neither did Angel, of course. As Angelus, he had always been a somewhat uncaring bastard, never touched by anything as weak and reeking of noble sentiments as *love*. And once he got his soul back, the brunette hadn't been in much of a position to feel anything for anyone. Until he meets Slutty. She was a pure, righteous beam of sunlight into his dark, souled world. [And I'm sure the fact that every time he looks at her he gets a boner doesn't hurt, either.]

Spike threw himself into his car, landing on a backseat littered with crushed beer cans and crumpled up wrappers. His burned hand ached as he dumped the remnants of another bottle of Jack Daniels over it, hissing at the pain. He wasn't even sure why he had come to Sunnydale. Well, that wasn't exactly true. He knew why. He wanted to put Angelus through some of the same agonizing pain that Angelus had put Spike himself through while the younger man had been trapped in the wheelchair. And then, as if torturing the immobilized Spike every night wasn't enough, the psychotic bastard had had to top it all off by stealing Dru. Dru, the love of Spike's unlife. Dru, the one thing that he wanted in all the world, the one thing that he needed. The one thing that without which...Spike found himself sinking back into the bitter self-pity that had plagued him for the past two weeks, ever since Dru ad left him for the chaos demon in Brazil. [Right, dammit. No more bloody self-pity. I'll here to make the fucker pay, and I'll have gobs of fun doing it, too.] He had come back to Sunnyhell to seek revenge, pure and simple. Even if he'd like to, he could never hurt his dark princess for leaving him, but he sure as hell could hurt the person who had made her leave in the first place. And since from what he'd seen last night Angelus was no longer around, Spike had no qualms about punishing Angel in his place. Now all he had to do was come up with some idea of how to hurt the angsting pillock. Which, considering how addled the blue-eyed vampire's brain was from the alcohol and the immense pain that his burned hand was causing him, might prove to be a rather hard task. He leaned his head back onto the seat with a sigh. "This is just too much."

* * * * * * *

In the late afternoon, Spike drove to the Magic Box and parked under an awning in the back. He had decided, throughout the course of the day, that charging in like gangbusters and staking Angel wasn't going to get him his desired result. For one thing, the poof and the Slayer would no doubt team up and kick his ass. Again. For another thing, it just wouldn't last long enough for Spike's tastes. No, he wanted that pillock to suffer. So, no violence. He'd have to use something a bit more subtle than that. Magic. He figured there had to be some good, gut-squashing revenge spells out there. Nobody knew he was in town, so he could spend days looking for the most painful and long suffering of the lot. If Angel thought that the Romany had cursed him by giving him his soul, the brunette had no idea what Spike had in mind for him.

A young woman saw him poking around discontentedly in the spell books and came over to help him. "Did you come in through the back?" She asked, cheerfully.

"Yeah. I need a curse."

"A what?"

Was she bloody deaf? "A curse. Something nasty." Spike thought for a minute. What would make his Sire suffer the most? Maybe a spell to make all his hair fall out, that would really hit him where he lived. Or..."Boils. I wanna give him boils all over his face." But would that stop Slutty from thinking she loved him? No, it would just make her pity Angel all the more, if he were truly hideous. Okay, so leave his face intact but wreck the rest of him then. "Leprosy! A spell that makes his parts fall off. That sounds proper."

The girl stared at him. "We don't carry leprosy," she said in a clipped tone, then turned away, relieved, to greet the customer that had just come in.

Spike turned to look, too, and was surprised to see a familiar redhead that he knew was one of Buffy's friends. [Well, well, well. I didn't know there was a witch in the group. You know, for a man in my position a witch could be useful...] He watched with interest as Willow read her list to the shop owner and they discussed the pros and cons of various aspects of a love spell. [A love spell. Now why didn't I think of that?] A slow smile formed as an idea began to play out in his mind. He could use a love spell. But not on Dru. No, if she didn't want to be with him of her own will then he didn't want to force her. He cared about her too much for that. But he had no such reservations about using such a spell on Angel. [Yeah. Make the poof love me instead of Slutty. Make him willing to do anything to please *me*. Then I'll really have some fun. I'll be able to torture the both of them.] Spike's smile was a full-fledged grin by now.

As Willow collected her bag and left, the girl returned to where Spike was standing. "Did you find a book?" She asked.

Spike turned so that she could see his game face clearly. "Forget the book," he said between his fangs, "I just got a better idea."

*****
Part 2:

It was well after sundown when Spike entered the dark and empty high school, keeping to the shadows as he walked the deserted corridors. He could smell her here, the witch. The blond had already lurked outside her house, the Watcher's house, and the Bronze in an attempt to track her down. He had gone to Sunnydale High last, remembering as he entered his first visit to the school.

He had known immediately it wasn't Angelus who had approached the younger vampire holding Xander prisoner in his arms. His Sire's scent had been different...off somehow. And his eyes were altered, too. There wasn't the same maniacal intelligence there that Spike knew. Instead, the brown orbs of the vampire who had come up to him in Sunnydale had been pained and veiled, as if this person with his Sire's face had secrets which he could never let even his favorite childe know. Which, of course, he had.

The shock and joy of seeing Angelus again had been quickly buried by the anger that Angel's attempted deceit had sparked in Spike. As if Angelus had forgotten how well Spike knew him, had indeed forgotten everything about their relationship. And when Angel had called him Spike and not Will, he had decided that this imposter wasn't his sire at all. And that made it perfectly all right to try and kill him.

Of course, when Angel had lost his soul a few months later it had only served to make everything worse. The Angelus that had returned to the fold had not been the same person who Spike had spent years fighting and fucking. The blond had hated the new, improved Buffy-obsessed Angelus. The fact that the wanker had done nothing to alleviate Spike's wheelchair-bound situation had only served to exacerbate this sentiment, not to mention Drusilla's obvious preference for her newly returned Daddy. And so Spike had cheerfully helped Slutty send Angelus to hell.

Spike had briefly toyed with the idea of simply using magic to remove Angel's soul once more, then sitting back and watching as the Slayer and her little cronies had to deal with the bastard. Again. It would be a fitting revenge, but Spike knew that this time his sire would be smarter about the whole thing. This time he would just rip out the throats of all the Scoobies on the first go, before they even had time to realize what had happened. Then all 250 pounds of pissed off, insane Irish vamp would be focused solely on hunting down his Judas. He'd kill Spike, too, there was no doubt about that. Just...not right away. No, he'd want to make the blond suffer first, and Angelus had always been the master of torture. As Buffy would say, that would not be to the good. So removing Angel's soul was really not an option.

Spike's steps slowed as he zeroed in on the voices coming from the chemistry lab. It was her and the whelp, no doubt about that. Spike couldn't hear anyone else in the school at all, so it looked like this was going to be even easier than he had expected. It didn't cross his mind to question why they were in the lab and not the library where he had expected to find them until he noticed a certain pungent odor wafting out of the room. He mentally shrugged and stealthily began to open the door without attracting the attention of the room's inhabitants. Whatever the witch was doing in there, hopefully it would distract her attention enough for him to be able to get close without too much of a struggle. Not that Spike disliked struggles, but he had the more pressing business of a spell to get through first.

The whelp's voice came through the open door clearly. "...clean this place up before they get here and start asking questions." He didn't even have time to turn around before Spike grabbed him and threw him headlong into the chalkboard at the front of the room.

"Xander!" the red head cried as Spike punched the young man hard enough for him to go down.

She attempted to hit Spike on the head but Spike, having none of that, quickly deflected her blow and shoved her against the wall, capturing her hands before she could do anything else stupid.

"Let's make this easy, pet. I won't drain you dry and you just sit tight. I've got a favor I need to ask, and then you and me and him can all go on our merry ways, hopefully to never see each other again. How does that sound?"

Willow looked at him wordlessly, eyes wild, and Spike wondered how much of what he was saying she was actually hearing. Just then he heard a noise behind him and spun both Willow and himself around just in time to have the bag of textbooks Xander swung at Spike hit the back of the girl's skull, knocking her out cold. As she crumpled in Spike's arms, he dropped her onto the floor and connected his fist soundly with Xander's face, knocking him out as well.

[That wasn't as difficult as I thought it was going to be] he thought as he surveyed the two unconscious teenagers. Looking around the room, he caught sight of a roll of duct tape peeking out from an opened cabinet and quickly bound their wrists and ankles, then gathered together the spell book and ingredients that Willow had been using just a moment before.

An hour later, Spike had deposited them into separate parts of the basement of the factory and, after making sure they were both securely locked in, went off to get another bottle of alcohol. He knew that his mind should be sharp for the inevitable coercion he was going to have to lay on to get Willow to do the spell, but the pain off his loss of Dru was still too raw and fresh for him to be completely sober.

When he returned, he could hear both of them moving around in their little cells. He had separated them mainly because he knew that Willow would be much more likely to agree to help him without Xander being privy to the conversation. He did want to keep the boy close, though, in case Willow should prove to be rather tough to convince. The threat of harm to one of her friends might prove to be more persuasive than a threat to herself.

He slowly opened the door to an old boiler room where he had left the bound girl. She had curled up into a corner in as small a ball as possible, and sat regarding him with a mixture of fear and horror. He shut the door behind him and sat down heavily on an old blackened piece of equipment, then began his explanation without preamble.

"A spell. For me. You're gonna do a spell for me."

Willow looked confused. This was pretty much one of the last things she had expected Spike to say. "What kind of spell?"

The vampire's temper flared, as much from the alcohol as Willow's obtuseness. "A LOVE spell! Are you brain dead?" Then, more quietly, "I'm gonna get what's mine." He took another swig from the bottle he had been holding and looked up to find Willow's wide eyes glued to him. "What are you staring at?! You can do it, right? Make Angel fall in love with me. Make him crawl."

At the mention of Angel's name, Willow's eyes just about fell out of her skull. She knew about the sexual habits of vampires, but had never made that connection between Angel and Spike. They really just seemed to hate each other, which was not, in her experience, particularly conductive to a loving relationship.

Bewildered, she answered, "I can try."

Spike grabbed her arm hard and yanked her unsteadily to her to feet. "What are you talking about, 'try'? You'll do it! That pillock has gotta learn."

Sighing, he let her go, and she promptly overbalanced on her constrained ankles and ended up on the floor. He looked down at her. "She wouldn't even kill me. She just left! Because of him. Because of what he did to her when he got all Angelussy last year. I wasn't good enough for her after that. So we got to Brazil and she was...she was just different. I gave her everything - beautiful jewels, beautiful dresses wwith beautiful girls in them - but nothing made her happy. And she would flirt...I caught her on a park bench making out with a chaos demon. Have you ever *seen* a chaos demon? They're all slime and antlers." He slid down the wall to sit beside her.

"So I said 'I'm not putting up with this.' And she said fine. And I said 'yeah, I've got an unlife you know?' And she said we could still be friends." With that, he began to cry, his stormy blue eyes pleading with Willow to understand. "I'm so unhappy."

Willow blinked and tried to process the convoluted story she had just been told.

Spike took another mouthful of the russet liquor and spoke again. "I'm gonna get him back, you know. Gonna repay him for making her leave me like that. Make him love me, then I can show him what it's like to get hurt by the most important..." he almost dissolved into tears again, but instead raised his head to look at Willow sharply.

"That's where you come in. I need you to do a love spell on Angel that'll make him mine." He smiled toothily at her. "Then I can really enjoy myself."

Willow nervously swallowed. "I'm not a real witch, you know. I don't know if this is going to work right away. And anyway, a spell like this isn't... I can't do a spell like this on Angel without his consent. It would be against what Wiccans are supposed to use magic for."

The blond shrugged. "I think you'll do the spell, code or no code. Because I could easily kill you and Xander and then go find someone else who will."

The redhead looked around the shadowy room in sudden fear. "Xander? Where is he?"

"Don't worry, pet. He's just down the hall. I thought we might have this chat in private, that's all. I haven't touched him."

"Prove it," Willow said with a lot more courage and defiance than she actually felt. She assumed that Spike would just kill her after she did the spell anyway, so there wasn't much point in making Spike show her anything. Still, she would bargain while she could.

Spike looked over at the girl in wonder. Since when was she the one in control here? His mouth twitched up in what wanted to be admiration. [A cheeky one, eh? This might be more fun than I thought.] Then he frowned as another thought pressed its way into his alcohol-soaked mind.

"I might, in a minute. But let me ask you something first. Do you hate him?"

Willow's brow crinkled in surprise and incomprehension. "Hate...Xander?" she asked finally.

Spike exploded. "NO, you silly bint. Hate HIM. Angel. For what he did. Bumping off the teacher lady and stringing up your fish. And trying to kill you, and your friends, for four months. Do you hate him for that?"

Willow shook her head. "That wasn't Angel. When he lost his soul -"

"Oh, spare me!" Spike interrupted. "*Please* don't tell me that your little Scooby gang actually believes that his soul makes any difference. With everything he's been up to in his life, the Watcher at least must know better than that." He looked at Willow narrowly, then burst out laughing. "You do! This is just too much."

"Let me explain something to you here and now, little girl. Angel's soul isn't an entirely new personality. It's just a conscience. It stops him from actually doing evil things, but it doesn't stop him from wanting to do them. It doesn't change the demon he is inside. You and your goody-goody friends like to think he's all safe and cuddly, but really he wants to rip your intestines out just as much now as he did without his soul. He just doesn't because he doesn't want to feel guilty about it later. Oh, and he knows it's *wrong*." Spike grinned again in the way that made Willow apprehensive.

So you're saying that Angelus is just Angel without a...a leash?"

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm saying. Now don't tell me you didn't suspect that. Or has tall, brooding and boring actually got all of you believing in him like Slutty does?"

Willow paused, considering. "I think...wait. How do I know you're not just telling me this so that I'll do the spell for you?" she asked.

"Because you're already going to do the spell for me. And because it doesn't make sense any other way. Think about it. You've got a soul, right? But it doesn't stop you from wanting to do bad things, now does it?" He looked at her for a moment. "Well, you might not be a very good example. Most people, though -"

"Hey! I'll have you know that I have plenty of bad thoughts."

Spike grinned at her. "Oh really, pet? Well, maybe you do. But I'll bet they don't usually involve torturing your friends."

Willow paused and then shook her head. "Well, no. But there have been times that I've had day dreams about hurting Xander. Mostly when he's being mean and sarcastic to someone."

Spike's eyes lit up. "Why didn't you say so sooner, luv? We've got him tied up right in the other room. Or I could just kill him. Save you the trouble."

"No! That's not what I meant. It's just that sometimes he gets so obnoxious and...anyway, that's not the point. I guess if Angel is really just as evil as Angelus underneath then maybe he should be blamed for doing those things. I mean, maybe not fully blamed, but at least a little."

"Like maybe he should get a taste of his own medicine?"

"Well, yeah. But what exactly are you planning to do to him if I do the spell?"

"Nothing too cataclysmic, I swear. Just a little pain and humiliation. Let the fucker know how it feels. Okay, maybe more than a little. But I don't plan on staking him, because I'd rather have him remember what I'm going to do for a long time afterwards."

"And you're not going to do anything that might endanger his soul?"

"Hell no! What do you think I am, daft? Who do you think Angelus would be gunning for the most if his soul takes another vacation?"

"But if he's in love with you -"

"It won't make any bloody difference," Spike told her firmly.

Willow paused and turned all of this over in her mind for a few moments as Spike returned to drinking. "Okay, then," she said at last, "I'll do it. But, you have to do a few things for me first. You have to untape me and Xander, and bring him in here. And let us go after I do the spell."

Spike shrugged. "Fine. I'll bring the whelp in after you do the spell. But I want you to promise you won't reverse the spell on me once the Slayer sees me and Angel together and figures out something is going on. And you're going to stay here until I know it actually worked, then I'll let you go. If you're as amateur as you say you are, you'll be needing more than one go at it."

Willow nodded, then held out her wrists for Spike to cut the tape. Once he had, she reached for her backpack and began rooting through the ingredients in it. "Most of the same ingredients for the spell I was doing earlier are the same as for a love spell. Usually you'd use canary feathers instead of the raven ones I have, but I think I can substitute the raven feathers without too much trouble. Did you get the book?"

Spike held it out to her, then stood watching her for a moment. She smiled at him absently before returning to her preparations. He eventually on the floor on the other side of the small room, giving Willow enough room to work. Then the vampire himself began to smile as she leaned forward to cast the circle.

*****
Part 3:

Spike left the factory in a better mood than he had been in since he had first set foot in Sunnyhell. The spell had seemed to go off alright; now it was just a matter of tracking Angel down and seeing if there were any evident effects. If there weren't, then Spike would return to the factory after stopping by the closed magic shop for more supplies and the witch would try the spell again. But if there were...Spike's sly smile broke out across his face once more as he imagined what the next few days and weeks would bring to Angel and himself. By the time he had driven into the center of town he was positively beaming.

The mansion had been the first place that Spike checked, but the empty building had only mocked him with its silence. [The poof is probably out brooding at the moon. Or maybe making lovey eyes at the bleedin Slayer.] Spike lit a cigarette in the doorway of the large house and smiled out into the night. [Better do *that* while you still can, mate.] Since the blond had no real idea where Angel might be, he simply parked the car near the Bronze and sauntered around the town's quiet streets. He knew that even if the spell had worked, Angel had no idea he was in town and therefore wouldn't actively be looking for him. Eventually, Spike came upon a house that looked vaguely familiar. He came closer, realizing it was the Slayer's house, and the Slayer's own mum sitting in the kitchen with only a thin screen door to protect her. Amazed at his luck, Spike made his way up the walkway.

* * * * * * *

When Oz and Cordelia had coming bursting into the library, Buffy had at first thought that she had another apocalypse ob her hands. Satisfied that it was only Willow and Xander missing, though, she headed from the chem lab back to the library to get weapons from the book cage. The jarring ring of the phone snapped her out of Slayer mode, and she shot across the room to pick up the receiver.

"Giles?" she asked, hopefully.

"Hi Buffy, you still working out?" her mother's familiar voice came through the line.

"Uh, no Mom. Actually -"

"I was hoping we could schedule a college talk later tonight. I admit I overreacted -"

"Mom, I really don't have time for this now. Slayer duties. We'll talk when I get home, okay?"

"Is something wrong?"

"No. Yes. I have to go. I'll see you when I get home."

After hanging up the phone, Buffy sighed and went to retrieve some weapons.

* * * * * * *

Spike waited until Joyce was off the phone before he silently pulled open the door and stepped into the doorway. "Hello, Joyce," he said.

* * * * * * *

As Oz and Cordelia rolled to a stop at an intersection, Oz's eyes suddenly widened as he recognized the scent that the night breeze was wafting into the van's open window. He sniffed again, becoming more and more certain that it was indeed the familiar odor.

"It's Willow. She's nearby."

Cordelia looked at him in disbelief. "What? You can *smell* her? She doesn't even wear perfume."

"She's afraid," Oz responded, trying to zero in on which direction the scent was coming from.

"Oh my God. Is this some sort of residual werewolf thing? This is very disturbing."

"I really agree," he said, putting the van in gear and turning right onto a side street.

* * * * * * *

Ten minutes later, Spike found himself being served hot chocolate in a blue mug as he recounted what had brought him to Sunnydale.

"So I'm strolling through the park looking for a meal, and I happen to walk by, and she's making out with the chaos demon. And so I said, 'you know, I don't have to put up with this.' And she said fine. And I said, 'Fine! Do whatever you like!' I thought we were gonna make up, you know?"

"Well, she sounds very unreasonable."

"Oh she is. She's out of her mind. That's what I miss most about her. But you know what really kills me? That tosser Angelus gets off scot free. Oh, so he had to spend a few centuries in hell. Big effin' deal, you know? Hell's gonna feel like a holiday when I'm through with him."

* * * * * * *

When Oz pulled the van up in front of the factory, both he and Cordelia exchanged worried glances. Here they were, virtually in the middle of nowhere, without benefit of Slayer, Giles, or weapons, and they had no idea what they were about to face.

The werewolf let his nose lead them through the burned ruins of the building until they came to the door that led down to the basement.

"They're both down there somewhere," he whispered to Cordelia. She nodded and looked down into the pitch dark at the bottom of the stairs.

"Of course they are. It would be too much to ask for them to *not* be in a place that is completely creepy and ready to fall in on our heads any second now," she snapped back.

Grabbing her hand so that they wouldn't get separated, Oz started down the steps.

* * * * * * *

Angel had been lurking in Buffy's backyard when he heard the familiar voice and saw the familiar profile through the open kitchen door. He stared for a moment, then rushed with preternatural speed toward the doorway, only to be bounced back as he impacted the protective barrier around the house.

Undaunted, he rushed the door again, this time stopping inches away from the invisible barricade.

"Spike!"

Spike jerked his head up from his mug of cocoa and looked intently at the figure of his Sire, trying to judge whether or not the spell had worked. [Damn Angel and his two facial expressions!] All Spike could tell was that the dark-haired vampire was extremely agitated, though he couldn't tell if it was an I'm-going-to-stake-you agitation or an I'm-going-to-fuck-you agitation. Deciding to be on his guard for either possibility, Spike walked up to the door cautiously, stopping just inside the barrier.

"Spike!" Angel bellowed again, trying frantically to get inside.

Grabbing a large kitchen knife from the counter beside the door, Spike winked at Joyce and stepped out into the night.

*****
Part 4:

As Spike started the car, he glanced over at the brooding brunette beside him and felt a rush of exhilaration when he considered what the rest of the night held for him. [Sire, if you think payback's a bitch now, you don't know the half of it.]

When Spike had stepped outside the Summers house, Angel had initially taken a step back and simply stared at the younger vampire as if he had never seen him before. Within a second though, Angel suddenly launched his entire body at the blond, catching him off guard and knocking him onto his back, with Angel landing on his chest. Spike had been expecting the usual exchange of halfhearted blows and sarcastic remarks, rather than abruptly being tackled by the world's broodiest man. In his surprise, he dropped the knife and soon found his wrists captured above his head in Angel's large hands.

The blond waited for the inevitable stake to pierce his chest, but before that end materialized, he was shocked by the sensation of his Sire's lips closing over his own as Angel kissed him passionately. Spike felt Angel's tongue glide along his lower lip until the younger vampire took the hint and gently parted his lips and teeth, inviting Angel to play in his mouth. The taste of his Sire was exactly as it had been over a century ago, before Drusilla, curses, happiness clauses and Slayers.

Spike moaned into the kiss, hearing Angel's answering moan as Spike introduced his tongue to the cool interior of Angel's mouth. He attempted to pull his wrists out of the dark-haired man's grasp, and was pleased when Angel immediately let them go. Instead of trying to push the larger man off of him, though, Spike twined his fingers into his thick dark hair and struggled to pull the older man even closer.

A loud gasp from the doorway had finally broken the two apart. Since they didn't need to breathe, Spike could easily imagine them staying in a liplock until the sun threatened to turn them both into dust. Looking over up Angel's shoulder, the blond was treated to the sight of Joyce standing in the kitchen doorway, mouth agape, staring at both of them.

The blue-eyed man grinned as he realized that Joyce would no doubt tell Buffy about this at the first opportunity, which would cause Slutty's oh-so-together world to break apart. [Good. Let the stupid bint know what it's like for a bit.] He pulled his fingers out of Angel's hair and pushed hard against the massive chest, trying to shift the other vampire's weight off of him. "Come on, Peaches," he said as Angel finally stood up, "let's take this party somewhere a bit more private, all right?"

For a moment Angel just looked down at him, an unreadable expression in his eyes. "Spike..." he said again, and then the blond *could* read his eyes, as confusion and disbelief took over the deep brown orbs.

"What's wrong, pet? Surprised that you're happy to see me?" he asked.

"Yes," Angel admitted, still sounding bewildered.

"Well, ducks, if you ask me, your problem has always been too much thinking. I'm gonna leave now, and go back to where I'm staying. Are you coming with me?"

There was a pause as Angel considered for a moment.

"Yes," he finally whispered again, his voice rougher than normal.

Throughout the walk to the car, Spike was acutely aware of Angel's gaze boring holes into the back of his head. The older vampire was still uncertain and befuddled, but Spike knew that the spell had indeed worked [next time I see the witch I'll have to give her a fruit basket or something] and that what Angel was feeling was an intense love for him. Which, considering how Angel usually felt about him, accounted for the brunette's extreme confusion.

At the thought of Willow, Spike remembered that before he could take Angel to the subterranean vault which he had refurbished with all kinds of fun and interesting pieces of equipment that Angel would know *very* well before the week was through, he had to stop off at the factory and let her and the brat out of the basement. He wasn't worried that the witch would break her word to him once he let her go. No, it looked like he was going to be able to enjoy using and abusing an Angel-pet for a long time to come.

* * * * * * *

After twenty minutes of Oz fighting against the lock, the door finally swung open, allowing Oz and Cordelia into the boiler room where Xander and Willow were being kept prisoner. Although Spike hadn't reapplied the duct tape to their limbs, the two had been unsuccessful in forcing open the door and had pretty much resigned themselves to waiting for the blond to return.

Although Willow believed that Spike would keep his word and let them out once the spell worked, Xander was certain that the vampire had no other desire than the kill them. After all, once the spell worked, he had no use for them alive, did he? Eventually, Xander's panic spread to Willow, and she was just as happy as he was when they heard Oz and Cordelia coming to rescue them.

* * * * * * *

Spike frowned as he approached the factory's front door and spotted a van parked discretely off to one side of the driveway. He wasn't sure if it was the Slayer or some other Sunnyhell resident, but he didn't really want to take the time to deal with either one. He had other plans for the evening, and if his Sunnydale luck held he may never get a chance to see those plans through.

Sighing, he stopped the car near the door and lit a cigarette, then turned to Angel as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. "All right, Peaches, you stay here. I'll just be a minute."

The dark-haired man peered at the building in front of them. "Spike, why are we at the factory?"

"Because there's something I've got to do."

"Do you want me to come in with you?"

Spike frowned, an idea forming in his mind. If it was the Slayer, he knew one way to get her out of his hair pretty fast...

On second thought, yeah, why don't you come in?"

* * * * * * *

Willow gathered her things together and shoved them back into her bag as Cordy kept lookout at the door and Oz helped Xander to stand up. Xander wasn't really hurt, but his head was still a little fuzzy from being hit repeatedly by Spike and the floor earlier. He was probably going to need to be taken to the hospital soon.

As they neared the door, Cordelia turned away from her post and helped them. It was then that they heard the familiar voice.

"Oh, look, Peaches. It's a party and no one thought to invite us."

The four humans froze and stared at the two vampires in the doorway. They were just as shocked to see Angel standing beside Spike (well, some of them were, anyway) as Angel was to see the four of them in the factory's basement.

"Oz? Willow? What's going on?" Asked the brunette in his puzzled tone.

"Spike kidnapped Willow and Xander," Cordelia replied, "and he was going to do evil things to them. What are you waiting for? Beat him up!" She motioned from Angel to Spike.

Angel turned and looked questioningly at his childe.

"Right. Well, yeah, I did snatch them, but it wasn't like I was gonna hurt them or nothin'. I came back here to let them out."

Cordelia snorted. "Yeah, right. Like we're going to believe that."

Unexpectedly, Angel spoke next. "I think we should give Spike the benefit of the doubt. If he were going to kill them, he would have done it already."

Everyone, including Spike, turned to stare at him. Then Spike grinned and suddenly grabbed Angel's hands and pulled the Irishman into a searing kiss right in front of the others.

The assorted gasps in the room were almost as loud as Joyce's had been. Eventually, Spike pulled back, enjoying the dazed expression on Angel's face.

Cordelia was the first to regain the power of speech. "Wha..?" Then her eyes widened. "You're evil again!" She screeched, then began looking wildly around the room for any kind of a weapon.

It was Spike, and not Angel, who answered her. "Nope, sorry pet. But Angel here is just as soul-having as ever. Turns out he just prefers me to your little Buffy bitch. Who would have thought? But then, after all, he is my Sire." With a lascivious grin, he licked up Angel's neck, causing the older vampire's eyes to fall shut and him to moan loudly enough for the rest of the room to hear clearly.

Cordelia looked like she was going to be sick. Her expression only added to Spike's merriment. He really couldn't have planned this better if he had tried. Now the Slayer was absolutely sure to hear all about the goings on of her one-time lover.

He began pulling Angel out of the room. "Well, kiddies, we've gotta be going now. There's shagging to be done, you know." Just before he left, he tipped Willow a discrete wink, and she smiled back at him. Yep, everything was going swimmingly.

*****
Part 5:

Angel was bent over the metal table, his feet in leg irons and held fairly far apart by a heavy metal bar between them. His back and legs were a bloody mess from the bullwhip sitting in a corner to his left. There was dried blood between the cheeks of his ass, mainly there from the two hours Spike had spend raping him with a fifteen inch dildo with a spine on the end. Most of his toe nails had been pulled out with pliers, and toothpicks had been pushed under his fingernails. His chest had been burned with both boiling oil and holy water, leaving swelled red welts. His nipples had each been sliced off with a scalpel. Spike had stopped short of using the pliers or some other instrument to pull out Angel's hair chunk by chunk. The blond had decided to leave that little amusement for later. In fact, most of the devices in the room hadn't been touched in the four days that Spike had been orking out his anger over past happenings on Angel. The younger man saw no reason to hurry, since the love spell guaranteed that the brunette vampire would do whatever he said. In all honesty, Spike found that he was quite enjoying having Angel submit to him. It almost made everything that had happened worth it. Almost.

As the blond walked slowly around the table so that Angel would be able to see him, he smiled slightly at the older vampire's slight recoil. "Good morning, Peaches. I hope you had a good nap. We're going to try something new right now..." With that, Spike reached into his pocket, grinning ruthlessly when the other vampire's entire body began to tremble lightly in anticipatory dread of whatever was coming next. Actually, there were two things in the younger man's pocket, and he slipped both of them onto the dark-eyed man who, truth be told, couldn't really put up much of a fight. Spike then stepped back to one again admire his handiwork. He decided that Angelus himself would be proud, but then banished that thought with a shake of his bleached hair. This was no time to be mooning over his bastard of a Sire, who, despite having beaten and humiliated Spike every time the older man was near him, had still commanded the blond's respect and, yes, love.

With a frustrated growl, the blue-eyed vampire picked up the bullwhip and delivered a few more stinging blows to Angel's calves and back, before finally the Englishman could feel his anger and resentment begin to subside once more. [Can't be letting Angelus ruin tonight, now can I? This was the whole bloody point in coming here, now wasn't it? It's my bloody turn for vengeance.]

The dark-haired man had remained silent under the blows, as Spike had known he would. The younger man reached down and released the shackles which held Angel's arms and legs immobilized, then moved out of the way as the other vampires slid onto the floor, where he tried to curl up in a tight ball. Spike, having none of that, yanked on the brunette's hair with one hand until the older man was standing, somewhat unsteadily, beside him. With the other hand, the blond affixed a short leash to the newly fastened leather collar which spanned Angel's neck, then adjusted the fitted black blindfold around his eyes. Satisfied with these preparations, the younger vampire tugged on the leash until Angel heavily began to follow him from the room. "That's right, luv, time to get you all cleaned up. We've got a date tonight, and I know she's not gonna want you to show up looking like this." With that, he led the older man to the shower.

* * * * * * *

Spike had actually been very careful in choosing how he would torture Angel. He didn't want to do anything to immobilize the brunette, knowing that all too soon the day of his real vengeance would come. Besides this, Spike had never been much for the drawn out torture bit in the first place. That had always been more Angelus's gig than his, really. He preferred to just start ripping out throats as soon as possible. But he knew that this was different. For one thing, he had promised the witch that he wouldn't kill the older vampire, and he actually had every intention of keeping that promise. The simple fact was that if he just killed his Sire, he'd have only a momentary relief from the pain and anger. But it wouldn't really change anything. Dru would still be gone. He would still have been humiliated by Angelus. Of course, torturing the Irishman didn't really change anything, either, but it allowed the blond to feel better for longer periods of time, which was enough. For now.

As the younger vampire ran the wash cloth gently over Angel's already healing cuts and welts, he marveled at the dark-haired man's submission to him. Even at the beginning, when Spike had first brought the other man into the room, Angel had said nothing. When Spike reached for the chains and began to shackle him, Angel had offered no resistance. The older vampire had simply taken it, taken all of it, without a whimper of pain or any move to refuse. Instead, he had looked at Spike the entire time with a look of...what? Need? Desire? Something else entirely? Spike didn't know. But the urge to make Angel look away had become overpowering to the point where the blond had finally gone to get the blindfold, rather than admit his weakness to the older man.

As he washed the other vampire, the Englishman was again caught up in the beauty of the body next to him, a beauty that even the bruises and gashes couldn't conceal. His ministration with the cloth beginning to turn him on, the younger vampire quickly swiped at the last of the dried blood and turned away. During the previous four days Spike had avoided taking his Sire, though the urge was so strong that he had had to engage a nearly superhuman level of control over his own cock. To have his Sire laid out with his legs spread was almost too much for the blue-eyed man, but he held onto his self-restraint by the thinnest of threads and the idea that when he finally did take the older man, it would be with all of the Scoobies, especially Queen Buffy, looking on in horror.

The smaller man was well aware that by having sex with Angel he was courting the return of Angelus. Hopefully, though, if things worked out the way he had planned, there'd be no moment of happiness. Actually, Spike wasn't at all convinced that he'd be able to give the poof perfect happiness anyway, spell or no spell. But he wasn't willing to face the unpleasant consequences if he was wrong.

Satisfied that Angel was as clean as he was going to get, Spike reached out for a towel and as gently as possible dried him off. Now was not the time for inflicting more pain. No, the younger man thought with a grin, that would come in another hour or so.

Once he was dry, Spike steered the Irishman toward the clothes that the shorter man had carefully removed before all of the fun of the previous few days had soiled them. He knew he needed Angel to look impeccable tonight, so he had even gone out and got a large tube of hair gel for the pillock. It was all part of showing Slutty what she no longer had.

* * * * * * *

Twenty minutes later, the two vampires were back in Spike's decrepit car, driving toward the center of town. Angel was lying facedown on the backseat, the only way that he could ride in the car without reopening the wounds on his buttocks and back. The blindfold had been removed, though the collar remained. Neither vampire had said a word since Spike had unstrapped the older man from the metal table.

Finally the smaller man parked and got out, clipping the leash back onto the collar as he pulled Angel behind him. They were outside one of Sunnydale's larger cemeteries, and right on cue Spike could hear the Slayer fighting some newly-risen fledgling inside. Perfect.

The blond perched on the hood, waiting, still holding the leash in one hand while he smoked with the other. Eventually the sound of footsteps grew closer and Spike tossed his butt away and retrieved the stake which he had placed earlier in his duster pocket. Then he pulled Angel into a long, wet, entirely exploratory kiss that seemed to go on forever.

A startled cry finally broke them apart.

"Angel?" Buffy whispered in disbelief.

*****
Part 6:

Spike broke slowly away from the other man's cool mouth to observe Buffy, with most of the Scooby gang standing behind her, gaping at the two vampires. Of course, the others had been privy to the two of them kissing before, so most of the gaping was being done by the petite blonde, especially the expression of such perfect shock and horror. Actually, there was much more horror than shock, so Spike knew, smugly, that she had been well appraised of what the others had seen earlier. [I'll bet she didn't even believe them when they told her. Oh, no. Her little Angel couldn't have willingly kissed big, evil Spike, never. She doesn't even *really* believe it now.]

But the kiss was only the beginning of the plan the blond vampire had laid out for the evening. He wanted them to hurt, both of them, and the only way to do that - really, really do it - was to have Angel betray Buffy in the only two ways that mattered: the physical, and the emotional. Of course, because of the spell, Angel wasn't truly betraying Buffy at all. The brunette had no control over his emotions. But neither of them knew that, and Spike was going to keep it that way, even if it meant killing the witch eventually. Because these two did not deserve to have their pain lessened.

Finally, Buffy seemed to find her voice. "Angel, what are you doing? Get away from him!"

Spike couldn't help but grin at the pleading tone underlying the demand. She probably didn't even realize it was there. The younger vampire had to bite the inside of his cheek with his blunt teeth to keep from laughing out loud. This was just too perfect. At last, he felt able to speak. "Sorry, Slayer, but your little Angel has done a lot of soul searching lately, and come to find out you make him want to retch. Plus, to be honest, I'm a much better shag."

Angel simply stared down at the ground, unwilling, or unable, to face the hurt and angry girl. Spike knew that a large part of this silence occurred because he had not given the Irishman permission to speak, but not all. He was not foolish enough to think that the tenuous control he had won when Angel had submitted to him would stop the other vampire from doing something if he truly wanted to. He had counted on Angel's own guilt and pain overwhelming any anger the brunette might have harbored over being thrust into this situation, and his predictions had proven accurate. Angel would go along with Spike's plan for the evening not because he was really a willing participant, but because he was too overwhelmed with the pain he was causing others to do anything to stop it.

Spike reached up and stroked Angel's cheek gently with two of his fingers, dragging the molten dark eyes over to gaze into his blue ones. "You see, pet," he said softly to Buffy, "he's in love with me now."

"Liar! Tell him he's wrong, Angel! Tell him -"

Even though she was yelling, Angel's low voice broke through her rant easily. "He's not lying, Buffy." Never moving his eyes from Spike's, he continued, "I do love him."

"No!" Faced with a certainty that she didn't want to hear, Buffy reacted in the way that Spike had been expecting her to. She pulled a stake out of thin air and stalked toward the two on the car.

Spike readied his own stake, holding it steadily over Angel's heart. "You come any closer to me, Slayer, and your precious Angel will blow away in the wind."

His stake, more than his words, had the desired effect. Buffy stopped about ten feet away, the arm holding her stake slowly collapsing until it hung limply at her side. Spike was nearly beside himself with disbelieving glee. After everything that had happened, after Angelus had come back to torture them all, after she had had to send him to Hell, even, the girl still couldn't stand to do harm to Angel. Even when he was so obviously a liability! For the first time since he had left Sunnydale with Dru months ago, the blond thought about the Watcher. [If he was even halfway decent at his job he would've killed Angel himself a long time ago. No Slayer should be this easy to manipulate.]

He shook himself out of his thoughts and returned to the task at hand. It was time for the physical betrayal. "Now, luv, somehow I'm getting the impression that you don't really believe Angel is mine. Maybe I'll have to prove how much your *ex*-boyfriend wants me."

Spike turned the older vampire around and bent him face down on the hood of the car. He knew that Angel was aware of exactly what was about to take place, and was acquiescent to it. He imagined the older vampire knew as well as he did that Angel wasn't about to lose his soul rutting across a motor with the Slayer and her friends looking on, no matter how much he was in love with Spike. At least he figured the dark-haired man had thought that through. Or perhaps Angel just didn't care about holding onto his soul these days. Perhaps the Irishman simply didn't care about anything anymore.

The blond quickly undid the fastenings and allowed Angel's pants to drop to the ground, leaving the brunette's naked ass waving in the air. Smiling, Spike stepped up behind him and gave the firm cheeks a couple of hard slaps, loving the red welts which formed only to quickly disappear on the pale flesh. He began to unbutton his own jeans when Buffy's voice stopped him.

"My God...what...what are you doing?"

"I think that's fairly obvious, ducks. I'm about to get a leg over on me lover."

"But that...that's disgusting!"

"You know, I never figured you for a gay basher. But if it really bothers you, you don't have to watch."

"I'm not homophobic! It's... you and Angel...you can't! Angel! Make him stop!"

"I don't think he wants me to. In fact, I think I still remember how to make him scream." Spike finished lowering his own jeans and quickly stroked himself to full hardness. This was most definitely not the time for drawn out foreplay.

Not bothering with any lube or preparation, Spike entered Angel with one savage thrust, making his Sire cry out in agony. The younger vampire raised his head and was pleased to note that not only was one horrified Slayer watching every move, so were her little friends, who were still gathered over by the cemetery gates.

The blond pulled his hips back slowly before thrusting hard again, feeling Angel's inner walls tearing from his dry invasion. The blood created enough of a lubricant so that much of the discomfort was removed, at least from Spike's standpoint. He began thrusting faster and aiming for Angel's prostate. He knew that taking Angel in front of the Slayer was only half the fun - the other half was making sure she knew how much Angel enjoyed it.

Angel, right on cue, began moaning throatily as he thrust backward against the smaller man, making Spike start to moan right along with him. Spike's hand drifted over to grasp Angel's rock-hard cock. Pulling it in time with his thrusts, the blond knew Angel was close to the edge by when the brown-eyed vampire began to pant loudly. Spike couldn't hold out much longer, either; Angel was so tight around his shaft it was like a vise. It had been so bloody long since he had been with his Sire, and only once had Angelus ever allowed the fledgling Will to top him. The younger man's thrusting became erratic and he buried his fangs into Angel's neck as he spurted his cold semen into his Sire's ass. Spike was vaguely aware of Angel crying out his name as the brunette's dead seed spilled over the blond's nimble fingers. Panting just as heavily as Angel was, he fell forward so that his chest was flush to the other vampire's back.

When Buffy heard her one-time lover calling Spike's name, it was as if the situation suddenly became reality, and she burst into tears. Her sobs eventually broke through the post-coital haze that had overtaken the vampires, leading them to look up at her. When Angel realized how deeply Buffy was hurting, it was as if the detached shield he had been hiding behind all night was shattered. Slow tears made their way from his liquid chocolate eyes to his chin, where they dropped off one by one onto the car's hood.

Spike watched them both cry with a feeling of release. *This* shame, *this* agony, *this* eternal loss was why had had come back to Sunnydale. This was his retribution. The spell had made Angel love him, but had not entirely cancelled out Angel's love for the Slayer. And so they were both wretched. And Spike was ecstatic.

The blond pulled up his trousers, wondering if he shouldn't quit while he was ahead and get the hell out of Dodge now. His car was right in front of him, it would be easy to just jump in and drive off. Or should he stick around, waiting for something to muck up his triumph, as something always did.

But it was not logic at all that made the decision for him. Instead, it was the agonized look on Angel's face. The tortured despair, so palpable, was something Spike wanted to see on that face every night. The blond grinned as he climbed into the driver's seat. Yeah, it looked as if he might be in town for awhile.

-the end-