The old man utterly refused to go to hospital. When Giles carried him to the fresh air outside the church, he revived quickly. Some other members of the congregation staggered out; they were also pale, sick, and complaining of headaches. Giles went quickly back into the church and turned off the old heater, kicking it in frustration that they had not thought to buy a more modern one or at least have this one serviced regularly.

As he was about to go back out, he looked up and saw Spike still sitting in the pew. He was smoking, blowing circles of smoke towards the altar. Giles went down the aisle. He was about to go into the pew when Spike turned. Giles reared back, shocked, as the vampire stared back at him from feral yellow eyes, the fangs descended and glinting wetly in the diffused light from the candles.

For some inexplicable reason, Giles found himself glancing wildly around and couldn't help himself saying, 'Spike. For God's sake, not in here.'

Spike only laughed and waved with his cigarette. 'You referring to this, or me?'

Giles hesitated, unwilling to commit to an answer. Spike took his own inference from this silence and stood, stretching slowly. He slipped back into human form, ground his cigarette out on the seat, and said casually, 'You need a hand to carry the old man?'

Aware that he'd failed some fundamental test in this short exchange, Giles shook his head miserably. 'Look, I'm a little distracted just now. The shock. Can we talk about this later? Tonight? Please?'

Spike shrugged, as if this surprised him. 'Course. Why not. Yeah, let's do that.'

Spike's tone set Giles' teeth on edge. He had not seen or felt the darkness, but he felt this like a small knife in his heart. 'What's wrong? I'm sorry about just now, only you shocked me rather.'

Spike pushed past Giles and went out to join the throng of people outside still discussing the strange events in the church. Giles came out and bent once more to his father. Spike watched his hunched back for a moment then turned and walked back on his own to the house.

It was a gloomy group that assembled for dinner that night: Giles' father insisting he was quite well, his mother anxiously worried, Giles strangely deflated and quiet, Spike only there because he sensed these were the last few days, and that soon the game would be over.

Half way through the first course, the old man looked up and said to everyone, 'I think that was rather well received; what do you all think?'

His wife nodded complacently, but murmured that it may have upset one or two of the more elderly regulars. He nodded. 'Can't be helped, my dear. Good God, forty-one, can you believe it? Rupert, you're forty-one; what do you think of that?'

Giles didn't look up but replied, toying with his uneaten food, 'I'm forty, father.'

'Ah. Quite so. Well, glad you're not one of those then, eh?'

Spike scraped his knife slowly across the plate, and the other three looked up at the offensive noise. He smiled pleasantly and, leaning back in his chair, said, 'Least they'll die 'appy. Ever think 'bout that?'

'What? What? Rupert, what did he say?'

'Nothing, father, ignore him. William has an odd sense of humour sometimes.' Giles gave him a furious look, which Spike ignored with practiced ease.

'I'm not bein' funny. I'm deadly serious. Better to die young an' 'appy than live to your age miserable and twisted up inside.'

Giles' father put down his glass of wine and spoke with a patient, yet patronizing tone, 'I don't think at your age, young man, you should have such strong opinions. You can know nothing of death or the suffering it brings.'

Spike began to laugh. 'You'd be surprised, old man.'

Giles looked up, shocked at Spike's tone; Spike still effectively ignored him. 'He'd be happy now, if you'd let him.'

Giles pushed his chair back and made to rise, but his father waved him down. 'We weren't put on this earth to be happy. The sooner your wastrel generation works that out, the better. Julian Forbes knows better than to think he'll gain true happiness by. by. I can't even name what I saw in here last night.'

''S called shagging where I come..' He was hustled out of the room before he could finish his sentence. When they reached the hall, Giles gave him a blow across the face that split Spike's lip and sent him staggering into the wall. He'd never hit anyone so hard, and he held his knuckles, tears springing to his eyes. Spike stood up and wiped at the blood, then sucked on it thoughtfully.

Giles brushed the tears away but, maddeningly, more spilt over and ran down his cheeks. He took his glasses off and rubbed a weary hand over his eyes. 'Whatever else, Spike, they deserve respect.'

Spike looked at him. 'They've got you now, and you'll never break free again.'

'Stop being so melodramatic.'

Spike turned on his heel and went upstairs. He paused outside Giles' room, but went on up to the blue room, and lay on the bed for the first time. He half expected Giles to come up and find him so lay awake listening to creaks on the old floorboards. Dawn came, and he was still alone.

Feeling somewhat remorseful at what he had tried to do at dinner, he went in search of Giles after lunch the next day. He heard his voice in the library and, smiling, pushed open the door. He froze on the threshold. The woman he had spoken to at the party was sitting at the desk with Giles, shaking her head woefully at the books of accounts. Giles looked up, and an embarrassed look passed between the two men. Perhaps if she had not been there, Giles would have capitulated at the slight pout on Spike's face, and Spike would have forgiven Giles when he saw the stressed, tired expression that indicated a night of restless anguish, but she was there, and they could say nothing.

'Spike, err, William, well, Spike then, you remember Camilla.'

'Yeah. 'Ow's the horse?' He went to the armchair by the fire and threw himself in, lighting a cigarette.

'I can't abide secondary smoke, do you mind?' She looked up with the expression of a woman who had never had to ask for anything twice.

Spike looked at the familiar way her hand rested on Giles' and said nonchalantly, 'Nah. I don't,' and continued to smoke.

She jerked back and looked at Giles with astonishment. He shook his head with a small warning gesture and rolled his eyes. Spike caught the look and, furious enough to risk his chip firing off, he stood up and said icily, 'I wanna talk to you. Now. Outside.'

Giles, perhaps aware of Spike's intentions, said carefully, 'Not right now, William. I'm busy. Camilla is helping me come up with a plan of action for the house.'

'Oh good. That's just peachy.' He spun on his heel and went out, came back, and slowly, deliberately ground his cigarette out into the pale fabric of the old chair.

The next day was worse. She was there all day, stayed for lunch, invited herself to tea, and appeared at dinner in a low-cut dress, which showed off all her advantages.

Spike had not bothered to change and appeared in his scruffy jeans and old black T-shirt, swiftly realising that what he had meant to be a small, but significant statement had backfired on him badly. There were other guests, one or two intimate friends of the family who were worried about Henry Giles' health. He debated turning around and just beginning the long walk home at that moment, but something in Giles' expression stopped him. The human was bent close to the woman, trying, with a small laugh, to release her long, very luscious black hair from its entanglement in his cuff link. Spike turned, went into the billiard room and waited.

When Giles eventually came in to refresh drinks, Spike stood in front of the doors, preventing his return.

'What's happening here?'

Giles turned and faced him, pausing in the act of pouring some whisky. As if realising he was in for some trouble, he swallowed the drink himself and coughed faintly. 'I have guests, Spike; let's leave this for later, shall we?'

'Yeah, but later ain't been coming, 'as it? Like me.'

'I was tired and in no mood to cope with your tantrums and histrionics last night. I still haven't forgiven you for being so rude to my father.'

Spike laughed and looked incredulous. 'I was rude? He fucking told me I was an abomination. even if I weren't dead, like, I'd find that just plain rude.' He trailed off; this had sounded better when he'd practiced it in his room earlier.

'He wasn't speaking about you or me; you know that.'

'Only cus you didn't 'ave the balls to tell 'im.'

'I was going to; you know that, but..'

'You weren't. You said you'd tell 'im; you said we'd go.' He paused and looked down at his bitten nails for a moment. 'You said you loved me.'

'This is exactly why I wanted to avoid this conversation. I knew you'd be like this. Can't you see that this is not about you.?'

Spike looked up, furious. 'I know that! Since when has it ever been about me? Don't matter what I want. Don't matter what I need. It never has to you. You wanted some fun; you wanted to find yer manhood or some shit, and you thought my arse was nicely convenient - being dead an' all. Thought I'd never tell; I'd go along with it; I'd be your little toy, 'til you tired of me.'

'This is ridiculous. I refuse to get into this nonsense.'

'There ya go! There ya go! It's always what you want!'

'Don't be bloody ridiculous, Spike; it doesn't matter what I want.' As if suddenly realising the truth of Spike's claim, he trailed off miserably. Instead, he came closer and hissed at the vampire, 'Do you think I really believe any of that rubbish he spouted from the pulpit? Do you think that's what this is about? Oh, God, Spike, give me a little more credit than that will you?'

'Well, what is it then? Why you been 'voiding me? Why am I fucking sleeping alone suddenly, and what's with the fawning on 'er all of a sudden?'

Giles took a step back again. 'I'm not. Anyway, that's beside the point. It not what he said, Spike; it's that he believes it. It's what they believe, all of them, everyone I've ever known, everyone I've ever loved or admired. If I deny what he said, I'm denying all of this. Don't you see? I have to choose. I never came here to do that, but now I do.'

Spike left his stance by the door and came closer. 'I know. I know that. But I've been there, remember? You can't let 'em inform you for the rest of your bloody life. You've got to let the past go and be yourself, find yourself. Like I 'ave.'

Giles suddenly laughed and, as he made the noise, realised that that one small sound had probably just destroyed any hope they had of making this better. 'Do you seriously mean that you think your relationship with that blood-thirsty, evil, psychotic sire of yours is equal to my relationship with my father? My God, you do!'

Spike backed away. He hit the door and fumbled for the handle, but couldn't find it at first. He stumbled through and ran into the hall, then wrenched open the front door, and ran out into the freezing night.

If he could, he would have run all the way back to the warmth of Sunnydale. He couldn't, so he contented himself tearing through the woods. He came to a small clearing and fell to his knees, slipped into his true form once again, and raised his face to the moon, howling a chilling scream out into dark, lifeless space. 'I - am - a - vampire.' A disturbing silence descended on the woods for many miles around, small creatures sensing the demonic forces now present in their quiet places. Spike began to tear at the ground, ripping through the soft leaves and earth with his nails, until he reached harder, frozen earth below. Nails tore and bled, fingers broke as he ripped at roots and flung stones aside but, eventually, it was deep enough. He lay in the shallow grave and scraped the earth back over himself. It filled his mouth and his nose; it went in his eyes, which he kept open until the last moment. When he was completely covered, he folded his arms over his chest and let himself be at rest, as dead and as thoughtless as fate had once intended him to be.

Spike was missing for a week. Guilt crept around the edges of Giles' worry, not least for the fact that, this time, he did not feel like leaving a small note tucked into a bottle. He felt too angry, too confused, and too distracted by the delight and pleasure his parents displayed at Camilla's continual presence in the house. She had offered to stay over and keep them all company, and her offer was leapt upon by Giles' mother. Where once there had been the disturbing, unpleasant, young man, William, now there was this long-standing friend, this fellow landowner, this wealthy, single woman. They raised natural concern at Spike's odd absence and even odder departure, as any hosts would. Eventually, to stop the polite enquires every morning that only added to his guilt, Giles told them that he had heard from him, that he was in London, looking up old friends and family.

Everyone immediately forgot to think about him. Except for Giles. He slept very little, ate even less, but kept all this to himself, as he had no one to discuss it with. He worried about what he would do when he wanted to return to the States, if Spike were not with him. Having brought him, it seemed too odd to just return without him but, increasingly, these thoughts made Giles stop mid-worry and ponder this conviction. Had he brought Spike, or had Spike come along because it was exactly what suited him? When Giles had looked at him in the pub at Stonehenge, he'd seen Spike as something that now belonged to him. Had this been where he failed so badly? Had Spike been right. always what HE wanted, always what HE needed. What had Spike wanted from this? Why had he started it all with that soft promise, 'I can help.'

These thoughts confused Giles too much, and he was always distracted by someone wanting him, things to do, people to see. Spike's absence became something he only got time to think about late at night when he finally got to his room, but then worry and guilt so overwhelmed him that he fell into exhausted confusion in front of the fire, unable to solve any of the problems that seemed to surround him.

One night, he was at his very lowest, tears long since given way to a black despair that he could not surmount when he heard a hesitant tread on the landing outside the room. He grinned and rose from the floor, just waiting.

After a hesitant knock, Camilla came in. She smiled at him, saw him stagger, and came forward boldly, thinking her arrival fortuitous. She eased him down to the rug, threw some more logs on the fire, and began to chat of inconsequential, childhood things that they would both remember. Giles brought himself under control, unwilling to have to explain himself to this woman. She dragged some bedding off and made them a small nest. The associations were so painful, Giles almost moaned.

She kept up the light, artificial chatter until, drawn back into habits of a lifetime, Giles was able to answer. Pleased, she turned the conversation to more important subjects and talked of his father and of the house. A lifetime's knowledge of, and interest in, the family made her easy to talk to and, gradually, unable to unburden what really troubled his heart, Giles was able to share his concerns about everything else that had worried him since coming to England.

Within a couple of hours, he was actually glad she was there. He went down to the kitchen and fetched up some wine and a couple of glasses. They sat cross-legged on the rugs drinking and talking. She actually made him laugh once or twice, and he was very grateful for that sound, thinking it might have been lost for good.

Too tired, too comfortable, and possibly too drunk to ask her to leave, Giles finally lay back on the rug, pulled another over him, and mumbled that he was going to sleep. She sat and watched him for a while with a small smile on her face, then tucked herself under the same rug, and began to plan the redecoration of the house.

When Giles woke, it was still dark, and he had the immediate impression that something had woken him. He could feel Camilla asleep alongside him and grimaced faintly at the thought, moving slightly away before turning over so as not to wake her. He sat up and checked the fire, thinking a log had fallen into the hearth.

He sensed him before he saw him. He turned. His heart nearly stopped. A figure, ghastly and terrifying, stood in the corner of the room where it had appeared to have been for some time.

Giles knew Spike was pale; he hadn't realised he could become translucent. He looked as he had when he'd arrived at his house under a blanket: starving and desperate. He looked worse than that, for now he was filthy, covered in dark mud, his hair sticking straight up and intertwined with leaves and small twigs. He was bleeding all over, deep scratches on his face the only colour, his fingers scabbed with dried blood. He was soaking wet and shaking, deep, bone-penetrating shakes that seemed to belie the fact that the vampire could not feel cold. and he was staring at Giles and his companion on the rug, his eyes wide, very pale, and utterly blank.

Giles rose but, instead of going toward Spike, he went straight to the door and bolted it, and stood in front of it, shaking his head at Spike to tell him that, having come back, he was not going to be allowed to leave again.

Giles could have taken the woman and killed her, just to be able to speak freely to Spike, but he could not. He nodded desperately at the small sitting room. Without losing his blank expression, Spike walked slowly toward it.

Giles grabbed a couple of blankets off the bed, a towel, and reached out of the window for the blood he had been buying all week in the hope Spike would return.

He shut the adjoining door, laid all his supplies on the couch and went to Spike. He pulled the vampire's ripped, soaked T-shirt off and wrapped him in a blanket. He pulled the worst of the debris out of his hair; he gave him the blood and watched with satisfaction as he drank pint after pint.

Eventually, he sat Spike on the sofa and sat down alongside him. 'I almost hate you for doing this. Do you know what I've been through?'

Spike did not reply; he only tipped his head on one side thoughtfully.

Rather floored, Giles coughed slightly and tried to regroup. 'You know that was nothing in there, don't you? Use your senses, Spike; they'll tell you that.'

He still got no response.

Finally, he just passed Spike the towel and said rather lamely, 'You'd better take the rest of that wet stuff off. You still look very pale.'

'I'm going home tonight. I just came to tell you that.'

Giles laughed. 'Don't be silly. How can you?'

Once more, Spike tipped his head on one side thoughtfully. He gave an eerie smile. 'You know nothing 'bout me, do you?'

Giles frowned. 'I know you can't walk on water.'

'Nevertheless, I'm going.' Spike stood and, unbelievably, pulled back on his soaked T-shirt.

Giles began to panic; it was too hard to stop thinking of Spike in human terms. 'Look. Just wait 'til morning, and we'll talk, yes?'

'I gonna take the white shirt, cus I'll need it, but I'm not taking nothing else, 'k?'

'Stop. Spike..' He caught at Spike's sleeve, but received an implacable stare for his troubles.

Finally, Giles resorted to low tactics, but he was desperate and confused, and could not withstand that cold look. 'Spike, for whatever has gone between us until now, please, I'm begging you; don't go tonight like this. Wait until the morning. If you still want to go, I'll buy you a ticket, and you can take the car to the airport. Please. You are chipped now, and you can't travel as you once did.'

Spike looked down at the hand on his arm. He raised his hand to his head, as if he had not thought about his chip for a while and nodded, more to himself than to Giles.

'Okay. You make the calls in the morning.' With that, he passed silently through the bedroom, past the sleeping woman, and back to his own room.

Giles did not go back to the rug but paced the room until the first rays of dawn. When he was sure Spike could not escape the house, he went up to the blue room to confront him. It was empty, the bed not slept in, no sign that anything had occupied the room.

Giles dressed quietly and made his way downstairs. Spike was waiting for him in the hall by the telephone. Giles cursed and bristled angrily. 'You don't trust me?'

Spike shrugged. 'I have no reason to.'

Giles closed the gap between them and crushed Spike into the wall. 'Don't give me that. You know me better than anyone in this world, Spike. Why are you doing this?'

Spike kept his gaze level and replied softly, 'The number's on the pad there. I looked it up.'

Giles gritted his teeth to the provocation and snatched up the receiver. He had a confusing conversation with the booking clerk about nighttime flights but as, he was about to give her the final details, a hand was placed over the mouthpiece. He mumbled apologies to the girl and asked her to hold on. 'What? I'm doing what I told you I'd do. You can bloody fly back to Sunnydale in style.'

'I'm not going to Sunnydale.'

'Oh.' Giles began to replace the handset, this confusing him, but Spike held his arm and said carefully, 'Make it a one way to Los Angeles.'

Giles let the phone drop. 'No.'

Spike shrugged. 'This is why I said I'd go my way: why I didn't wanna tell you.'

'No.'

'Just forget it human; I'll make my own way there, like I said.'

'No. You can't go to him.'

'This is nothing to do with you.'

Giles was not so angry or confused not to recognise his own words neatly thrown back at him. He knew Spike's assertion was no more true than his had been though, and he was willing to call the vampire on this. 'There's nothing else but me in this, Spike. I am this.'

Spike refused to be drawn. 'Not in the way you think, you ain't. Now, you gonna pay for me to go LA, or you gonna let me earn me trip my way? An' you know I can.'

The threat was implicit, but no less vivid for that. Giles had a hideous vision of toilet floors, grimy back streets, and Spike on his knees in the filth. He knew he was being blackmailed, but it did not change his revolt. He picked up the receiver, redialed, and made the call.

Spike nodded. 'Keys?'

Giles looked at him, astonished. 'You mean this? You're going to just up and go, and leave me here?'

'If you're staying, yeah.'

That subtly changed the blame, but Giles was unwilling to accept this. 'I can't just leave, Spike; you know that.'

Surprisingly, Spike's look softened. 'Yeah, I do. Keys?'

Giles handed them over, and Spike nodded, took them, and went into the library to wait for it to get dark.

Giles trailed in after him and sat watching him read for a while. Finally, he could restrain no longer. 'Angel?'

Spike didn't look up but said quietly, 'Leave Angel out of this.'

'I think he's rather come into it, hasn't he? You brought him in.'

Spike looked up. 'He's been in it from the beginning, just like all this has.' He glanced around the now hated house and returned to his book.

Giles watched the lowered blond hair with increasing anger. 'I'm not about to shag this bloody house, am I?'

'Maybe not. Might shag what's in it though.'

'Ah, I thought you'd come back to her sooner or later. I told you, Spike; that meant nothing..'

'It were just like I described for you, weren't it?' Spike's voice was almost wistful. 'Just like I said you needed, remember?'

'Yes. I do. But it was nothing like that. I was. tired, she came in, and somehow we ended up talking and.. I told you, Spike; use your senses; you know nothing went on.'

Spike nodded. 'I did. But it would 'ave, if I hadn't 'ave been there.'

'Oh fuck off, Spike. You know that's completely untrue; I couldn't have..'

'Not you, her.'

'Oh.' Giles reviewed this mentally and added, rather surprised, 'Really?' He saw Spike's face and said quickly, 'And thank you for that vote of confidence; I think I could have defended my honour.'

Spike gave a small smile and returned to his book. Encouraged, Giles got up and sat next to him on the couch. 'Come on, Spike. Let's drop this, please. You aren't going to leave. We'll go upstairs. We'll..'

'Tell them.'

'What?'

'You know what. You said you were going to; well do it, today, and I'll stay.'

'You bastard. How can you ask me that? You saw how he was.'

Giles began to rise, but Spike laid a hand on his thigh. 'I'm not askin' you. That's the point, human. I'm not askin' you. Now, leave me be, hey? If you stay here, then I'll go somewhere else, an' you won't find me. I'm dead, remember? I play a bloody mean game of hide-an'-seek.'

To his extreme embarrassment, Giles felt tears prick his eyes and, when he tried to control them, they began to flow freely. 'I don't understand any of this, Spike.'

Spike clenched his jaw and some emotion crept into his eyes at last. 'You will, pet; you will. Now, I'm gonna take meself off, 'til it's dark. Like I said, don't bother to look for me.'

Giles followed him to the hall, tried to restrain him, could not climb the stairs as fast as the vampire, and lost him at the first turn of the landing. He stood dumbfounded, lost and utterly distraught with the house creaking quietly around him.

*****
Part 19:

A dark figure was propped against the airport arrivals' lounge wall, a leg bent up, apparently examining a ring on one hand.

As soon as Spike stepped into the lounge, Angel looked up. He watched the blond figure fetch his small holdall then pushed off the wall and came over to him.

Spike squared his shoulders and waited. Angel stopped in front of him and pursed his lips slightly. Spike swallowed deeply.

'Good flight?'

'It was okay.'

'Car's outside.'

'Good place for it.'

Angel blinked slowly and nodded, then spun on his heel and swept out into the dark. Spike followed more slowly and climbed in alongside him.

'Waitin' long?'

'No.'

They drove slowly, the traffic heavy. Spike stretched out and tipped his head up to the still warm night.

Angel watched him out of a corner of his eye. 'You look sick.'

'So do you.'

That silenced Angel for a while, until he said quietly, 'Buffy was here.'

'Huh. 'Nough to make anyone sick then.' He cupped his face into his hands and lit a cigarette, offered it to Angel, but smoked it himself when it was refused.

'Why did you call me, Spike? Why are you here?'

'Let's get in first, hey? I need a drink.'

Angel let it drop, until they pulled into the underground garage. They both sat looking at the place where they tried to kill each other, until Angel said, 'Buffy told me about the chip.'

Spike turned and faced him. 'What did she say?'

Angel swung round, too, and hooked an arm over the back of his seat. 'Just the bare facts, I guess. You can't kill or feed; you can't hurt anything living. That it was given to you by a military organization called The Initiative. Nothing more.'

'That 'bout covers it then. Shoudn't 'ave bothered to come.'

'That's why you came? You came to tell me that?'

'No, I came to tell you that I forgive you. She left that out I guess: that I've become a fucking wuss, and that I think 'bout things too much, and that I just wanted to tell you that I forgive you..'

He slammed out of the car and, once more, felt the desperate need to flee from something. Angel caught his arm. Spike growled. 'It only works on the living, mate. I can hurt you right good.'

Angel let him go but said neutrally. 'Drink?'

Spike toed the ground for a moment, then nodded, and followed him up.

He wandered around the apartment for a while, picking things up and looking at them, noting with a smile all the things that showed signs of being mended. 'I did a good job 'ere.'

'There was a lot of fixing to do when you left.'

Spike glanced at Angel.

'You heal okay?'

'Eventually.'

They sat opposite each other at the small table and drank for a while. Angel stretched behind for another bottle and said causally, 'Forgive me for what?'

Spike looked up carefully, 'Take your pick.'

'For turning you?'

'Maybe. Yeah, why not? You were a proper demon then; you 'ad to.'

'For making you. more evil than you would have been?'

'What, for making me butcher me family? Yeah, okay, I forgive you that too. I'm a bit off families at the moment; so that's an easy one.'

Angel toyed with his drink, tipping it slowly from one side of the small tumbler to the other. 'For leaving you?'

Spike pouted a little then laughed. 'Yeah. Can't believe I'm saying it, but yeah; I kinda understand it now, I think.'

'Understand my soul? How I felt? I don't get..'

'No, that you left me, cus it was the best thing for me.'

'What?'

Spike looked him in the eye. 'We'd become. incompatible, and I needed to see that for meself.'

'It's taken you a long time.'

'It's taken a small piece of technology, that's what.'

'And being in love?'

Spike's head snapped up. He saw Angel's face and suddenly grinned, shaking his head. 'Tosser.'

'I can hear it, Spike, sense it, smell it. I'm your sire.'

'She's left you pretty screwed too, ain't she. I'm your childe. I sense you even stronger.'

They poured another drink and drank gratefully.

'Who is it?'

Spike pouted. 'You don't wanna know.'

'Ah, someone who would make me jealous.' He mentally reviewed the cast of characters and grinned. 'I tortured him for it, but he didn't learn his lesson, I see.'

Spike laughed. 'You're wrong, Angelus. He didn't want me then. hell, he don't want me now.'

'You're wrong. About then, anyway. I told you, Spike, nothing escapes me where you're concerned.'

'You kinda missed the crowbar coming.'

'Oh, yeah. Well I had end-of-the-world issues, ya know?'

Spike leant back and looked at Angel through lowered lids. 'So, you jealous?'

'You want me to be?'

They opened another bottle and time seemed to pass more. slowly after that. Angel put some music on; Spike shed his duster. Some time during the next bottle, Spike said carefully, 'So, you gonna tell me 'bout the slayer's visit?'

'I hit her.'

'Uh huh. Rather you than me. You still in one piece?'

'You should know that now.'

'Yeah. Guess.'

'What you gonna do?'

'Do?'

'You gotta square it with 'er.'

'Why?'

'Cus.'

'Oh.'

'Yeah.'

'What about you? Why are you here and not with him?'

Spike sat up and swung his legs off the bed, reaching for his T-shirt.

Angel watched his naked back. 'This going to change anything?'

Spike turned back. 'Is it with you?'

'No.'

'There ya go then.'

'But. it was good?'

'Yeah. Ain't gonna solve nothin' though.'

'It's made me feel less like killing her.'

Spike chuckled and lay back down, his T-shirt discarded once more on the floor. He lit a cigarette. 'Worked out some angst on me, hey?'

'I felt some bones break there, yes.'

'Come back to Sunnydale with me and see 'er.'

'World of no, Spike.'

'Sounding like 'er ain't 'elping your cause none, peaches.'

'Why are you so concerned about my relationship with Buffy?'

'I'm not. I wanna work with 'er.'

'Did you just use the 'w' word, Will?'

'Fuck off. So, you coming?'

'You want a free ride, you mean.'

'Well, duh.'

'He'll come back eventually; you know that. When he's done what he needs to do in England. What will you do then?' Angel turned on his side and propped himself up on his elbow.

Spike pouted at the ceiling for a moment. 'I don't think he is coming back. I think he's gonna find what he needs there. He don't need me; that's for sure. 'S what I left 'im for - so he could find what he really needs. Just like you did me. I hope he does find it.'

'No you don't; you are a pathetic liar, Spike. Did he actually fall for that crap?'

Spike chuckled. 'I didn't tell 'im; he's not me sire.'

'Just the man you love.'

Spike turned to him. 'I'll get over it. I've done it before.'

'And that's why you're lying here naked with me now. Because you got over me.'

'I told you. He don't need me. He needs all that over there. He needs to fill that space on the wall. If he don't, he'll resent me so much, we'll be over anyway.'

'And he told you all this, did he?'

Spike hesitated. 'You've no idea what it was like, pet, over there.'

'You're confused, Spike. You've all these new emotions churning around inside you. That repressed Englishman was not the best person to work them out with.'

'Huh. Think that's the Irish in you talkin' there, pet. You always did hate the English.'

'I didn't hate you.'

'I'm a one off.'

Angel paused. 'You didn't used to be.'

Some time later, and now on their fifth bottle, Spike lay on the other side of the bed, sucking gently on a deep wound on his wrist. Angel lay with his arms folded under his head, staring at the ceiling. 'If he has any sense - and I remember him as being very sensible - he'll be on the first flight home.'

Spike chuckled. 'You sayin' I'm good.'

'Yes. I am.'

'You jealous?'

'Yes. I am.'

'You gonna invite me to stay then?'

'No. I'm not.'

They both laughed and Spike folded his arms under his head in a mirror image of Angel. After a while, he said sadly, 'I was the worst possible thing for 'im to pick on to find all his new emotions, I think.'

'I agree with you. I'd love to have been a fly on the wall for some of your conversations.'

'Tosser. An' funny that, I used to imagine you there sometimes.'

Angel turned to look at him. 'What was I doing?'

'What do you think?'

He turned back. 'If he had any sense, he'd be with you now.'

'Yeah, well.' Spike sat up and swung his legs onto the floor in his second attempt to leave the bed. Angel stretched out a hand and pulled him back.

When dawn came, they were out of alcohol. Angel had some stuff that was stronger, and they began on that. Smoking happily, Spike eyed Angel through narrowed lids. 'This gonna make you more fun like?'

Angel, on his belly, idly stubbing his roll-up onto Spike's thigh in a trail of small burns, shook his head. 'If you mean is Angelus coming out to play, no. I don't let him.'

'Pity.'

'You don't mean that. You know what he'd do to you for having him.'

'Huh. You more jealous than you let on then?'

'Enough to kill you - if I were Angelus.'

'You gonna ask me to stay?'

'No.'

Some time later, Angel left a slightly incoherent message for Cordelia and locked the door. They had nothing left now, the floor littered with bottles, matches, and other debris. Angel looked down at the pale, naked body, sighed deeply, and turned to his weapons cabinet.

The blood was more of an aphrodisiac than the rest, and they played in their own blood for hours until Spike, still exhausted from his week's abstinence, fell asleep mid-thrust.

Surprised and amused, Angel eased off him, swept the bed clear of instruments, and pulled the blankets over them both. He was the first to wake late into the night, hesitated for a moment, then moved so his body touched the pale one in sleep.

They both woke when the sun came up. Sometime during the night, Spike had moved into Angel's arms.

They disentangled themselves, and Spike sat up, looking in wonder at the mess. 'Huh.'

Angel frowned.

'You gonna ask me to stay?'

'Still no.'

'Okay then, but drive me to Sunnydale?'

'Yes. That I will do. And yes, I'll see Buffy.'

'Good. Kill that fucker she's shagging, hey?'

Casually said, Spike watched Angel's reaction carefully. Angel smiled. 'Don't try and provoke me, Spike. I know about him.'

'Bummer. He's the git who did this to me. Kinda thought my sire might wade in an' revenge me like.'

'Your sire doesn't care, remember?'

Spike laughed. 'Oh yeah. An' just for the record, pet, when you gonna stop pretending that and ask me to stay?'

Angel pouted, calculating, 'Another twenty years?'

'Hold you to it. What we gonna do 'til dark then?'

By the time they drove out of LA, neither could move very well. Angel drove slowly and dropped Spike off at the city limits. Spike leant into the car window. 'I'll be at the Bronze. See me 'fore you go?'

Angel nodded but, before Spike could pull away, said casually, 'You've changed. Don't undersell yourself, Spike, and stay safe for. oh, at least twenty years?'

Spike laughed and, as he walked away, gave a small wave over his shoulder. He waited until Angel's lights were out of sight then lit a cigarette. He tipped his head back at the night sky. It was warm; it was alive; and he'd forgiven Angel. He felt entirely different to the person he had been when he left England. Whatever he was doing - and he wasn't too sure exactly what that was - he felt he was making decisions for himself: what he wanted. |t seemed important, this small assertion of his independence. Whatever happened now - and he wasn't too sure exactly what that was going to be - it would be because he had made a conscious decision to remain what he was, and free the human. Some cages had been opened, and now he'd let Giles fly free.

He wandered slowly through the cemetery and pushed open the door to the crypt. He froze when he spotted some additional furniture and cursed softly at the loss of his new home. He was about to leave when someone bumped him hard from behind and swore. Spike tipped into the crypt, followed by a disgruntled Xander Harris carrying a television.

'Fucking what?'

'Spike?'

'Yeah. What ya doing?'

'Bringing you some junk.'

'What?'

'You're living here, aren't you?'

'Was.'

'When was?'

'When was what?'

'When was..'

'I've been 'way, ain't I?'

'Have you?'

'Yeah! You not even noticed?'

'We thought you'd been doing things. Evil things.'

'Well, I have. Yeah, that's right. But what you doing givin' me things? Don't get it.'

'Well it's junk; I had it spare, and Anya told me to.'

Spike laughed. 'You can put it down now; does it work, and can I kiss you?'

Xander backed out, alarmed, and Spike shouted after him, 'Missed ya.' He chuckled and said quietly to the television. 'I bleedin' did. Welcome home, Spike.'

He went to the Bronze as promised, and Angel arrived after a few hours looking less strung out. He grinned shyly at Spike, made to buy them both a drink then shuddered, and bought two cokes instead. Spike chuckled, and they made their way to a quiet corner.

Angel downed his drink in one then said smugly, 'She loves me best.'

Spike laughed, 'Could'a told you that, mate. 'S like I said; it's blood.'

'He was a wanker. A fat, wooden, wanker.'

'Fat's a bit unfair, pet. Think it's all that padding - for bullets like.'

'Nah. He was fat.'

'That make you happier?'

'Oh yes.'

Spike stuck his legs out onto the couch next to Angel, and Angel laid a hand on his boots absentmindedly. Spike looked down and wondered why he found the hand so unnaturally pale.

Sometime before dawn, Angel walked back with Spike to the crypt. He wandered around it, eying it distastefully. 'I prefer my place.'

Spike shrugged. Angel came toward him. 'I have to go.' He pressed some money into Spike's hand. 'I've worked out the interest payments, and you're going to make me a very rich vampire in twenty years' time.'

'I'll make you something else too, luv.'

'Good. Take care of yourself, Spike. It's not easy living in a world ruled by another species' emotions.'

'Pillock. Give us a kiss then?'

'Hell would freeze over before I did that to you, Spike.'

'Tosser. Thanks for the dosh.'

'Spend it well.'

'Oh yeah, you know me.'

Unexpectedly, Angel grinned, pulled Spike to him, and swiftly kissed him on the forehead. He shivered as if feeling that small freezing then swirled out.

Spike threw a loud 'Wanker' after him and threw himself into his armchair to think.

He glanced over at the wall where he had blown the human in the early days of this bizarre relationship. He looked at the space next to it where he had stood and first discovered the pain of tears. He flicked the money Angel had given him idly through his fingers as he thought.

Before he could make a decision, he heard voices and, ripping open the door, discovered the gang outside, arguing whether they should knock before entering or just go in. Willow beamed at him and tucked her arm into Tara's. 'Hi ya.'

'What you all bloody want?'

'You.'

Spike tried not to smile but failed, and lit a cigarette to cover. Xander looked askance at him. 'If we invite you to sort out a big nasty we've been chasing, you're not going to. kiss me or anything, are you?'

Spike made as if to do just that, but winked at the girls, and said, 'Take me to it. You 'ave no idea 'ow much I need to kill something.'

He stuffed the money into his pocket and followed happily behind the gang, swaggering slightly in the warm night air and the bright chatter.

**********************

'Why we goin' to the Slayer's? Big nasty ain't there is 'e?'

Xander appeared about to launch into some transparent lie, so the girls covered by more bright chatter until they had Spike inside. Buffy, standing by the telephone, held out the receiver. 'Giles wants to talk to you. He's been calling me for days, so talk. Now.'

Trapped, Spike took the handset, but he was about to put it down when Buffy caught at his wrist. 'I said talk.'

He grimaced and held it still, but stood there looking pointedly at the gang. She nodded and ushered them all out.

Annoyed, he put the handset to his ear. 'What?'

`I didn't think you'd actually talk to me.'

`I'm not.'

`Ah. I'm thinking of coming home this week.'

There was a very long silence, so long, that Giles was about to ask Spike if he was still there, when a small voice said, 'Thinkin' of it, or gonna do it?'

`Does it matter to you which?'

There was another painfully long pause. `Yeah. It does.'

This time Giles hesitated, but they both sensed the difference between these silences. `Then I'll be back Wednesday.'

`'K then.'

Once more silence descended until, with a nonchalant wave of his hand that he forgot the human could not actually see, Spike added, 'I was wrong, by the way. Thought I'd just say that.'

Giles laughed. `Can you repeat that; the line is very fuzzy my end; I thought you just admitted you were wrong about something.'

`Wanker. It's just, I got to thinking `bout being a vampire, and that kinda focused me mind on what you need t' be.'

`Uh huh. Do I want to hear what you think I might need?'

`You're a human. You can't cast off the bloody past; you can't be what you ain't. You need what you've already got. What binds you.'

Desperately hoping that Giles would immediately contradict him on this, Spike was thrown by the human's silence.

He stood staring at his nails as he assimilated the fact that Giles was apparently coming back only to sort out his life before leaving for good. Exactly - as he had told Angel - what Spike wanted for him. `Well, I gotta go cus. got things to do.'

`Feed?'

The associations of that small exchange were not lost on either of them. Giles said quietly, cursing the distance between them, `Maybe we should have stayed with the games, Spike. Do you sometimes think that?'

`I don't think we ever dropped `em.'

`No. I don't think we did.'

Clenching his jaw, Spike said, `I'll come meet you, yeah?'

The reply was choked off and the handset replaced. Spike listened to the tone, staring at the wall thoughtfully then replaced the receiver.

As he went toward the door, Buffy intercepted him. `When's he coming back?'

Spike pouted for a moment then said, `Thursday.'

She smiled. `Great. I'll meet him.'

`Yeah, slayer, you do that.'

He watched the slow file coming through the arrivals' gate. Giles was toward the end of the line. Spike surprised himself by how nervous he suddenly felt. Everything had seemed so clear when he'd gone though it earlier in the crypt. He pushed off the wall. Giles saw him, but waited for his bags, his head lowered in thought.

He came over and put the bags down on the floor. `Hello.'

Spike desperately wished he had a cigarette in his hand but nodded. `Yeah.'

`I think we need to talk. Perhaps we could go for a drink?'

`Yeah.'

They drove in silence to the Bronze, and Giles made to buy some drinks, but Spike put a hand on his arm. `I'll get `em.'

Giles didn't want to ask where he got the money, so sat down in a dark corner and waited. Spike slid in opposite him.

Giles took the drink and, before either of them had a chance to even taste it, he said determinedly, `LA. I need to know what happened. Before we talk, before we argue, before we make up, break up. I just need to know.'

`An' it's gonna change what you've 'ready decided to do, is it?'

`Ah. I think you've just told me then.'

`I went to see Angel. I wanted to tell `im that I forgive him for the things `e did to me. He's no more an abomination than I am, an' I just wanted to tell `im.'

`Oh.'

`An' he `elped me see things clear - things I knew but was confused `bout.'

`Like being a vampire.'

`Yeah. Like bein' a vampire.'

`And.. ` Giles played with beer mats absentmindedly. `I need to know how he did that.'

`In vampire ways. Are you sayin' that I shouldn't be a vampire?'

`No. I'm not. What you do with Angel is your business. Just as the relationship I have with my parents in my business.'

`'Xactly.'

Giles pouted for a while as he made a small house then jumped when a hard fist flattened it. `Giles. Angel is in LA. I am here. An' you slept with that bint you're gonna marry, so we both don't want to ask questions, I'm thinking.'

Giles reared back. He blushed. He got up and made for the bar, changed his mind and went to the bathroom, came back and went to the bar, ordered some more drinks, then sat down.

`Bloody vampire.'

Spike shrugged. `Was it good?'

Giles looked frankly at him. `Not as good as I think Angel would be.'

He heard what he'd said slightly before Spike did. He tried to amend it, felt a laugh bubbling out and, at Spike's incredulous face, began to chuckle helplessly. Spike shook his head and leant back in his seat. `I've missed you, you wussock.'

Giles looked up. `That was almost worth coming home for. Oh, yes, and did you say marry?'

Spike shrugged. 'Whatever, 'though I'm thinking yer old mum won't let you live in bloody sin, will she?'

'Err. what exactly are you babbling about?'

'The 'orse shagger! You're gonna marry 'er! It's what I came away for. so you could and. ya know. have that next little Giles on the bleedin' wall.'

'Ah. I thought you went because you didn't want me any more - given I as good as called you an abomination. Sorry. My mistake.'

'You think I don't want you?'

'I think you went to LA.'

'I think I'm a vampire.'

Giles leant back in his seat, slightly into the shadows, and looked intently at Spike. 'You left me without an explanation. You went to LA and fucked Angel, and you want me to marry some hideous woman in England. Have I missed anything out?'

Spike scratched his head, 'No. Well, yeah. Kinda. I mean.. You went off me, and I didn't need no explanation of that - I got the "I ain't goin' to heaven cus I'm fucking a vampire up the bum" subtle hints, mate. I went to LA to get some 'elp from me sire - what form that 'elp takes is our business, and I think if you do marry the 'orse shagger, I'll fucking stake meself, but given those slight amendments, then yeah, I think you 'bout got it right.'

Giles put his forehead down very slowly onto the table. He began to shake it from side to side equally slowly.

Spike lit up again, watching this odd behaviour and, after a slight pause, tapped Giles on the shoulder and offered him the cigarette. With no hesitation, Giles put out a hand, took it, and sucked in deeply. He sat up, looked at Spike and said softly, 'Some addictions are so hard to break.'

Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed Spike's face. 'Just fucking tell me..'

'Hey! Giles! What'ya'doin' here? Early? And with. Spike?'

Spike swiped Giles' hand away and made to rise, but he was pinned in the booth when Xander pushed in next to him.

'Thought you weren't back until tomorrow. What's up?'

'Nothing is up, Xander. Absolutely nothing is up, if you must know.' He saw the puzzled, well-meaning expression and sighed. 'I got an earlier flight, and I bumped into Spike and..'

'Buff's gonna be..'

'Maybe we could not actually tell..'

'Hey! Buff! Over here! Look who I got!'

Giles and Spike both looked up with dismay at the small train of familiar humans coming their way. This small gesture, done at the same time, made them turn to each other, and Spike gave a small, shy grin. Giles took his glasses off and wiped them carefully on a handkerchief. 'Hello, Buffy. Willow. Tara. And Anya, how fortuitous.' He looked up briefly at them, directly at Spike for one piercing moment and then, with the slight distraction of putting back on his glasses, said pointedly, 'I've missed you more than I can actually express.'

Buffy laughed and pushed Xander, so he slid up. 'Cool. D'ya have a good time?'

Still not looking at anyone in particular, he said carefully, 'For the first week I would not have wished myself anywhere else or with anyone else, but the last week was. awful.'

'You should'a come home sooner.'

'Yes. I got a little confused.'

Spike, in the process of lighting a cigarette with utter disinterest, said, 'That's cus you don't listen to people that know better.'

Before any of his young friends could comment on this odd interjection, Giles rejoined swiftly, 'Probably because I don't know any.'

'Don't take a genius to see a line of graves goin' back to beyond time. Don't take one to feel the power of those ties.'

'I don't happen to like Marmite much, either.'

Spike choked slightly on his cigarette and had to look away, trying to stifle his laugh. Giles smiled and shook his head at Buffy's odd look. 'So, what have I missed while I've been away. Military coup?'

She blushed slightly and began to relate slayer business. Spike had almost recovered his cool when he felt a foot pressed on top of his boot. He took a couple of furious drags and, at some comment of Buffy's, suddenly said, 'I don't understand this.'

She frowned. 'Maybe that's because I'm not talking to you.'

Giles looked at Spike for the first time and said casually, 'You haven't understood anything since you sat down, Spike, and you haven't understood anything that happened this week. Nothing. Do you hear me?'

Spike pursed his lips slightly then looked down at his cigarette thoughtfully. Xander, completely sure he didn't understand anything, suddenly grabbed Giles' arm cheerfully, 'Hey! We're having a party for you. Well, it's kinda a Bronze thing anyway, but we all said we'd pretend it was for you. But it's tomorrow, cus we thought.. Well, ya know. But hey! Still a good party.'

'Oh. Good. Thank you for the thought, but I'm not sure I'm really up to a..'

'So, what you going to come as?'

'Oh God.'

'Oh yeah. gotta be a costume party. No fun otherwise. It's 'Come as you are'.'

'Good, then I shall probably wear a smart suit.'

He heard a faint snort from Spike and pressed harder on the boot. Spike's other foot came to rest lightly on his. He moaned softly and covered by sipping at his drink.

Xander looked at Spike, weighing him up through narrowed eyes. 'You coming?'

Spike looked surprised. 'Me? To a party of yours? No fucking way; I ain't that sad yet. Where is it?'

'Here.'

'Huh. Public bar. I might just be 'ere anyway. Doin' evil stuff, course.'

'Given. So. what ya gonna come as?'

Spike laughed. 'I'll dig out me cloak. 'Ow's that?'

Buffy beamed at them all. 'So, we're okay?'

Giles pouted. 'I don't know yet. I'm hoping we might be. What do you think, Spike?'

Spike looked up from the intent study of his cigarette and said pointedly. 'I think I need to. talk to you. Now. Business.'

Giles nodded with almost overwhelming relief and made to stand. Suddenly, a hand appeared on his shoulder, and he sat, twisting around in his seat. 'Hello, Sir. Nice to see you back.'

Buffy gestured for Giles to move up and, to his compete horror, Riley sat down next to him. He swallowed. 'Thank you. I. err. have to go though. Spi..' He bit back the rest of his sentence so obviously, that all eyes turned to the vampire. Spike looked slightly paler than usual and tried, ineffectually, to blow a disguising cloud of smoke between them. Riley frowned, the cogs turning slowly.

'Hostile 17?'

*****