Spike smiled. He liked a challenge.

He waited just the right amount of time. He waited until the breathing next to him became slower, deeper. He waited until the tense aura around the human dissipated, and then he turned over and draped his arm over the watcher's bare torso, fanning his fingers out on the smooth chest, and pinning the body to his.

Giles had nowhere to go, except to fall off the edge of the bed. He lay rigid for a while, every nerve alive to the vampire that seemed to press against every inch of his body. He assumed that Spike was asleep, that he had turned over in sleep and automatically thrown his arm over. As long as it meant nothing more - nothing that could threaten him - Giles was content to accept this odd sleeping arrangement. He even rolled fractionally back, closer to Spike, and was met by a face being pushed and nuzzled against his ribs. Almost automatically, he lifted his arm and - through no conscious effort of his - found himself embracing a blond vampire for the rest of the night.

Giles lay rigid and stiff, sure he would not sleep. He was somewhat disconcerted, therefore, to wake at all, even more so when he discovered that, sometime during the night, they had sort of merged with each other. He was lying on Spike's silent, still chest. For some odd reason, he had one hand down the front of the vampire's jeans, the other, tangled up in his blond hair. As Giles had no idea why any of this was so, he thought he'd better not move until he'd worked it out.

He wondered idly if being this hard was dangerous for him.

He wondered, given what else seemed to be filling the front of Spike's pants, how there was any room for his hand at all.

The room slowly grew lighter and noise from the everyday world increased. Spike lay very still, and his body was silent, but he radiated more vitality than Giles would have believed possible. He wasn't really cold: borrowed, early morning heat flowed from him. He had a subtle scent, and Giles breathed deeply to try and identify it: tobacco, shampoo possibly, even chocolate, although he could not for the life of him think why the vampire should smell almost edible.

There were subtle movements that belied the essentially still body. The eyelids fluttered as if the demon dreamt and, further down, down where Giles' fingers lay meshed in darker, coarser hair, there was a significant twitching and vibrancy that spoke to a matching urgency in Giles.

Although Spike didn't breath, his body still sounded alive; a soft gurgle from his belly made Giles smile into the smooth skin.

The sun began to stream into the room through the window across from the bed. The beams passed harmlessly by the sleeping figure, but they still disturbed Giles.

He idly thought about them touching Spike and pictured the conflagration that he had witnessed in others happening to this slim body that he had come to know so well. This thought made him frown.

Then Spike turned his head in sleep and said distinctly, in a puzzled voice, `I don't know.'

Giles didn't know either. He didn't know why that small, puzzled voice should lever open the locked trunk of his emotions, but it did. He screwed his eyes shut to the pain, desperately willing himself not to cry. Too many emotions, suppressed for too long, threatened to overwhelm him, and he knew this left him very, very vulnerable.

He didn't want to be hurt but, equally, he didn't want to pack them all away again and suffer the pain of that sterility.

Giles felt Spike waking, sensed a slow coming back to consciousness and, with that awakening, the realisation that they were lying together thus.

Giles hoped Spike wouldn't move, had a feeling he wouldn't, and was delighted when he didn't.

`Ow.'

Giles lifted his head. Spike look oddly at him and repeated, `Ow,' but added helpfully, `me arm, wanker. You're lyin' on it.'

Giles thought it was curious that Spike hadn't mentioned the hand down his jeans first, and he frowned slightly in response. `I thought you said you'd be all better in the morning?'

Spike stretched his arms up lazily, making his ribs stick out, `Yeah well. I lied. I lie `bout lots of things.'

Fear pounded at Giles. He wanted to crawl back into his watcher's neutrality. He didn't want to be raw like this. He edged hesitantly around what he really wanted to say. `So. what now?'

Spike was watching Giles carefully, a small smile playing around his lips. Suddenly, he sat up, pulled free of Giles' hand and swung his legs off the bed. `I'm goin', that's what.'

`To feed?'

Spike turned. `Nah. Goin' away.'

Giles actually felt the prickling onset of nausea under his chin, but tried to keep his voice calm and his expression neutral. `Going away?'

Spike grinned at something that he seemed to find amusing in this blank expression, and swung back onto the bed, folding his legs. He began to undo the bandage on his arm and, after a moment of useless struggle, gave up to Giles' offer of assistance. He watched the lowered, greying head and, after a suitable amount of suspense had built up, said, `See. I'm all lovin' you and shit now, and you don't love me, so I've gotta go `way - find meself like.' He chuckled at the audible sigh of relief from the human.

`The game..'

`Course, what did you think?'

Giles looked up briefly but, at this close quarter, could not mask his emotions enough, so went back to his task. `You know bloody well what I thought, Spike.'

`Uh huh. And that bothered you, did it: the thought I might go `way for real?'

`On the contrary; I was merely curious - and hopeful - as to how far you would actually go.' He knew he wasn't getting away with it - it sounded forced even to him, and he allowed a small smile to play around his lips. Spike tilted Giles' chin up; the human pulled away, but it was not in anger, and the action only made Spike chuckle, too. `All right, I admit it. I'd miss our games if you went.'

This wasn't quite the reply Spike had wanted, but it was better than the one he'd expected, so he let the watcher be for a while. Giles went back gratefully to the wound, the exhausting emotional confrontation over.

When the still raw slash was exposed, to cover the not inconsiderable pain of having it washed out once again, Spike said, `'Preciate this.'

Giles nodded then added conversationally, as if he hadn't been wanting to ask this all along, as if it was not important, `So, what made you change your mind? Last night you didn't want to play anymore.'

`Neither did you.'

Giles looked up sharply at this, a flash of his heavily concealed emotions briefly altering the neutrality of his features. Spike pressed his advantage. `You enjoyed just sleepin' next to me - admit it, human.'

Giles still kept his tone flat, `I did. I do admit it.' He lowered his head once more and added, `I'd rather fuck you, but it's always good to catch up on sleep.'

Spike felt like hitting him. He grinned instead. It was exciting to feel like hitting someone out of exasperation, impatience, and even more exciting to picture the response if he did hit the git: passion and genuine desire flaring between them.

The human wasn't ready for any of this though, so he just chuckled and said dryly, `Yeah, like the fucking meself - as you prob'ly noticed.'

Giles looked up once more, surprised. He'd felt like kicking himself and didn't know why he said something so uncharacteristically crude. He was immensely relieved that Spike didn't seem bothered by the comment and that the strange, almost intimate atmosphere between them had not been ruined. He felt incredibly comfortable just sitting here with Spike talking and, more importantly, he sensed that the vampire felt the same.

He began to re-bandage the arm. `So, tell me again, why - in this game - do you have to go away?'

`Cus I need to grow up a bit, see?'

Giles tried to remain serious but failed. `Yes, I do see that. Believe me, I do.'

Spike gave an exaggerated gasp of outrage and play-punched him lightly in the thigh. Giles suddenly realised that Spike was flirting with him, and the unexpected sensation made him flush slightly in response. Spike felt this arousal and said, `I'm three times your bloody age, mate,' and flicking dismissively at the greying hair, added, `more prob'ly. so, don't diss me, yeah?'

Giles raised one eyebrow disdainfully at the expression but only added ironically, `And are we talking literal age or emotional maturity here?'

Spike laughed and reached around for his cigarettes, more pleased with this exchange than he was willing to let on. `So, we agree on summut: I need to go.'

`Well, yes, but. I mean. where and how long?'

`I was thinking maybe ten years?'

`Ten years! Bloody hell! What are you going to do?'

`I was thinking maybe astronaughty sort of things?'

`Keep it a little bit more real?'

`Cowboy then?'

`And you are how old?'

`'K, `k. Bugger you, spoil sport. A hand on a ship. That's what they always become - in me books like. They run away to sea and become hands on some ship.'

Giles was floundering badly. `Err. and that is because.?'

Spike put on his helpful, serious, conspiratorial look. `I think it's cus of all those hairy arses, see? No women around to get in the way.'

`I really think you read the wrong books, Spike. Interesting, but wrong.'

Spike flicked up an eyebrow. `So. you don't want me to tell you what `appens to me on this ship then?'

`With all these hairy-arsed sailors?'

`Xactly. `S a good story. but if you wanna keep it all real..'

`No. Go on. In the interests of research only, you realise. I'm intrigued.'

Spike slowly - so slowly - dragged his eyes down Giles' body, raking them over every inch of his naked chest, down to the significant bulge in his lap. `So..' He brought his eyes just as slowly back up. `That's what you posh geezers call it, is it?'

Giles, pointedly, lay down on his belly next to Spike. He paused then with a smile, allowed one small emotion to escape his lock-down. `I'm glad you stayed last night.' Spike bent his head to his cigarette, took a long drag, and then looked up, unable to hide his feelings at all.

He just rolled his eyes and said. `Story! Do you want me to start or not?'

Giles pillowed his head on his arms and nodded.

`So, I can't stay with you any longer cus I realise you ain't gonna ever love me like I love you..'

`What are you called, by the way?'

Spike sighed. `Thought you were a bloody watcher? So, watch and listen, hey? Less with the mouth. And prob'ly Joey or Timmy or some such shit name ending in `y'.'

`Why y?'

`Fucking hell! I don't know why? They always are. Rent boys are always `y'; the old geezer is always something real hard like.'

`Seems unlikely given in real life.. Sorry.'

`So, I sign onto this ship that's leaving Liverpool for..'

`So, all this was taking place in England?'

`What difference does it bloody make? Fucking is fucking in any country, ain't it?'

`Well, no, not really. I had rather pictured us here, in the warmth. I'm not sure I'd want an English rent boy.'

`Uh huh. I'm gonna run with this cus, unbelievably, I'm actually curious. Why the fuck wouldn't you wanna fuck an English kid?'

`All that bad grammar and odd teeth.'

Spike made to hit him but snatched it back just before impact. He contented himself with a glare. `So, I've been on this ship now for a week, an' I've been trying too hard to prove meself, and one day I get injured like - arm trapped in a winch..'

`Funny how you always end up getting injured, someone patches you up, and there's all that close intimacy and..'

Spike gave him an inscrutable look. `Yeah, useful device. As I was sayin'.. Do you actually want me to get to the bit where someone cums up me pale arse or not?'

`Why is it pale?'

`What?'

`Well, you're not a vampire-fantasy-rent-come-cabin-boy, are you?'

`Just fucking stake me, `k? No! Okay then. Tanned arse. That better? Cus I'm tellin' you, human, if I were human, I'd be bloody tanned! So! Jeez! Hairy arse'll lose `is fucking stonker if you don't bloody shut up!'

`Do they ever?'

Spike laughed and shook his head despairingly, flinging himself down on his back next to Giles. `No. Okay, give you that. They don't. Not in the books I've read, anyway. But this is my bleedin' fantasy, so I'm adding a touch of realism.'

`Won't sell.'

Spike turned his head and their faces were only inches apart. `No, I guess it won't.'

`Go on then. Stop stopping.'

Spike's pout mingled with a small smile, and Giles defied anyone to resist that expression. Spike went for nuclear and lowered his eyelashes seductively. `Beg me.'

`Err..'

`Go on, beg me for it.'

`Please?'

Spike shook his head. `'S not begging. Do it proper.'

Giles replaced his hand inside the front of Spike's jeans and repeated softly, `Please.'

`So.. I'm injured, `k? But I'm incredibly brave - as always -- shut up - an' one of the officers.. Don't fucking look like that; I've upped me sights a bit, and you'd be surprised what bleedin' officers can get up to. So, this officer gets me into his cabin cus he takes pity on me - as you do - and he makes me take me shirt off. Look, I'm not gonna tell you this if you don't get that look off your face. I wince a bit cus it really hurts but more cus I'm missing you, an' wishing it were you `elping me. He..'

`What does he look like? Don't do that. your chip, remember? I want to know what my rival looks like, that's all.'

`Tall, dark, soulful eyes, incredibly handsome with stupid, poofy hair, `k? Can I continue now?'

`Err. yes, but make him a bit shorter and fatter?'

`You want me to be shafted by a short, fat, hairy-arsed officer?'

`Yes. No! I mean..'

`WHEN I HAVE MY SHIRT OFF, he begins to examine the wound, yeah? He's real soft and gentle, which surprises me, cus I've never had any softness. Even from you at the end, cus you just abused me all the time..'

`I never meant to, remember? It was just my inability to express my real feelings for you. err. I should think.'

`Yeah, I know that, but he don't, do he? He's just a dumb little rent boy who needed to go away to find that out for `imself. As his hands start to roam over me chest, I groan, and he hears it, and his hands stop for a bit, unsure if he heard right. He wants me see - has done since I came on board - but can't admit it to himself, didn't think I'd want him seeing as he's..'

`Handsome with soulful eyes?'

`Nah, a miserable bugger full of guilt and repressed desires. ANYWAY, he orders me to the bed - cus I'm a bit wobbly like. I sit on the edge, and he sits alongside me, doing something to the wound. I cry out, and he puts a hand to my face. oh, bugger this. I'm bent over the edge of the bed with me jeans around me..'

`Bloody hell! What happened there? You can't just jump from repressed desires to bent over the bed. Where's the narrative continuity?'

`Up me fucking arse, that's where. I'm a bloke, mate; I cut to the fucking - `s the only bit you wanna hear anyway.'

`No it's not. I like the slow anticipation, the. so what's happening now?'

Spike blew some smoke in his face and said softly, `He's stretched me real wide, Giles. Can you picture that? 'Is shaft is kinda dark purple, and it's such a bloody contrast `gainst my arse. Can you see it sliding in an' out? Is it glistening? Yeah, feel it, Giles; feel that tightness. I'm moaning, and he's groaning from the pleasure of getting' off in me. It were unexpected like, see? Thought he was gonna have to do himself the whole trip, but then. here I am, and I'm so fuckable, aren't I? He's got me `round the waist, and he's pullin' me back onto him. He's found that spot, Giles. the one you always find for me. He's gonna make me cum..' Spike hissed as Giles' hand began to grind into his wiry curls, too constricted to actually work the cock. `I'm coming now. So I tell `im. He's speeding up; he's groaning so loud I'm `fraid someone's gonna hear, cus then I'd be lost like. They'd all take me, but then I can't think `bout nothin' cus he's coming in me, and he's so warm. It shoots into me; it washes around, and you've just gotta try that one day, Giles, cus it's like nothing else you've known, and then I come, too, and I'm shuddering and jerking on `im still, and he's bracing himself to stay in - but he's good at that, bein' an officer on a ship with all that heaving and rollin'. oh! Fuck!'

Giles couldn't get the jeans off for they caught on Spike's boots. He couldn't spread the legs very wide, trapped as they were by the black material, but he still shoved in with more urgency than he could ever remember feeling for Spike. Hard since he'd woken up, the flirting, the story, the feel of Spike's groin swelling inside the jeans, had tipped him over the edge of need. He didn't care if this was in the game, out of the game, hiding emotions, laying himself bare; he just wanted to feel Spike tight around him. He wanted to cum inside him. He wanted to watch Spike cum: watch his face screwed tightly shut in orgasm, watch his eyelids flutter with suppressed desire, watch his eyes open wide at the moment of ejaculation. He wanted to watch as his own sperm flooded Spike and made him feel as he'd described in the story, but most of all he wanted to watch Spike's penis shoot its milky fluid over that perfect, perfect, body.

He found Spike's spot, just as Spike had prompted, and he worked it for the vampire, laughing as Spike's face looked more in pain than pleasure. He rode high on the hard belly, came in low, cursed when he just could not get the legs wide enough, but he wasn't unsatisfied for long. Spike howled out that he was about to cum and, utterly unable to prevent himself - even if he had wanted to - Giles almost erupted his bodily fluids into Spike in response. He was panting so loudly towards the end that his ears were actually ringing with the effort. His heart raced painfully in his chest, but his body felt sublime: all powerful, replete, invigorated, exhausted, but so wanting to do it again. He rolled off but, unexpectedly, kept one arm tightly around Spike's waist. It was so slick on the vampire's belly that his hand soon crept to that cool area and began to play in the spent cum. The moment was too intimate to analyse, so he took them back to the game. `What happened when he came?'

Spike roused himself and said quietly, `He's all weepy now cus it weren't you. He's leaves the ship soon as he can cus he don't want that bloke; he only wants you.'

`Maybe he shouldn't have gone in the first place. Maybe if he'd stayed a bit longer the man. I would have come to realise my own feelings. It's possible.'

`Nah. `S not just for that I gotta go. I need some space, too, remember? I've got a lot of growing up to do - these are all new emotions for me, too.'

`But. ten years.'

Spike lifted his head a little. `Well, I'll condense it to ten days for the game; how's that?'

Giles didn't reply directly to this, but merely continued to make small trails in the spent cum on Spike's belly. `What am I supposed to do for ten days?'

`Fall in love with me.'

`Oh. While you're off fucking hairy-arsed sailors.'

`Officers, and I was actually gonna do some washing, get some kip, an' maybe start lookin' for somewhere to live.'

`Ah, good. No sailors.' Giles felt sleepy again, the hypnotic movements of his hand began to lull him into a blissful post-orgasmic slump, but Spike suddenly sat up.

`So, gotta go.'

Giles sat up, too. `Look, why don't we just skip to the bit where you come back and I love you?'

Spike pursed his lips and began to hitch his jeans up. `Wouldn't work.'

`Why not? I do. He does. In the game. I could pretend..' Spike laid a finger on his lips.

`You've gotta go through it.. When you play games, you've gotta do it proper, or it don't work. `Sides. I've gotta father some kiddies, ain't I?'

`What! Good God, Spike, what do you..'

`'S what they always do, mate. They go off an' try to find that last shred of themselves deep in some soft cunt.' He added complacently, `Gotta prove they ain't gay, see?'

Giles spluttered, `Oh.' He jerked back. `Are you.?'

Spike sent him a withering look. `I - am - a - vampire - called - Spike. You are losing it, mate. Maybe we shouldn't play these games, hey?'

`Oh yes. No. I mean.. Oh god. But no fathering?'

Spike quirked an eyebrow at him. `No other bloody miracles, either. Look, ten days, `k? I just need to find a place, get sorted, yeah?'

`And you'll come back?'

Spike stood up and shook his shoulders out slightly. `All grown up.'

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

Giles had lived satisfactorily as an adult for over twenty years without Spike, so why he couldn't manage ten days was something of a mystery. He was so restless, frustrated, lonely, and bored. Spike did a miraculous disappearing act once again, and he saw nothing of the vampire for the first eight days. Just when he thought he'd have to go and look for him, just to catch a glimpse of that blond hair, just to see a flicker of a smile, they bumped into him one night, patrolling. Giles was talking to Buffy, they rounded a corner, and there was Spike, carrying a chair into a crypt. Giles recognised the crypt by the lock they had smashed in before, the chair was new, but he didn't really care about a chair, only it was so much easier than thinking about how he could think of nothing to say, how overwhelmed he was by this meeting, how much he had missed Spike, and how much he wanted him now. He mumbled, fumbled, hesitated, but then looked up. He saw the same need, the same want on Spike's face and flushed deeply with this knowledge. Spike put the chair down and nodded at them both. Buffy began to interrogate Spike; he answered her with desultory, deflecting lies and half-truths as usual, his eyes fastened hungrily on Giles. Fed up with Spike's replies, Buffy marched into the crypt to see for herself what he was doing.

Alone, Giles took a step forward. Spike reciprocated, and they were about to do something - neither of them knew what - when Xander and Willow caught up with the patrol and came around the crypt. Giles pulled back; Spike fumbled for a cigarette. Buffy re-emerged, and the three youngsters began to move away. She looked over her shoulder and called to Giles. He nodded and moved past Spike. More quietly than Spike would have thought possible, the human murmured, `How much longer?'

Spike stood slightly in his way, so Giles had to brush past him. `Sunday, pet. I'll be back Sunday.'

Giles groaned slightly but nodded and made to catch the others up.

Good as his word, Giles was making an early pre-dawn cup of tea on Sunday when Spike appeared in the doorway. Giles came out from the kitchen and took a hesitant step toward him. Spike entered, and when Giles put an arm up, he went into the warm embrace being offered. Giles breathed deeply into Spike's hair and lifted his face back a little. He caught hold of Spike's face and before he knew what was happening, bent his lips to the vampire's.

It would have been their first kiss, the first attempt at such strange intimacy between two people who thought they were just fucking around, but Spike deflected the kiss by taking a drag of his cigarette instead and sliding out of Giles' embrace. `I'm back.'

Giles knew Spike had wanted the kiss as much as he had and wondered why the vampire had pulled away. Puzzling over this stopped him from puzzling over why he'd wanted to kiss Spike in the first place.

He went back to pick up his tea. `So, all grown up?'

Spike nodded; he was examining some of Giles' books on the shelf.

`And I now realise I love you?'

Again, Spike nodded but, this time, turned around, a pleased expression on his face. `'Xactly, you love me and. I don't love you any more.'

*****
Part 6:

Giles came forward as if to catch Spike's arm, but the vampire dodged and went into the kitchen to rummage for some blood. `See, I'm all bitter `bout what happened on the boat - an' I blame you.'

`One minor incident with..'

`'S not just that. It's after. Remember, human, I've gotten out of some girl's nice warm bed to come `ere. Had to see, just to remind meself why I'm doing the husband and father bit now.'

`I have no idea what you're..'

`I gave you every chance to love me, but you wouldn't.'

`I do though. Now.'

`Too late, see. That's the beauty of it. It's too late; I've moved on an' found meself like I wanted.'

`But. what about me? I've been so lonely and miserable without you.'

`For ten years?'

`What? Oh, yes, for ten years. It's been awful.'

`But you've had lots of others like me, Giles: trying to find me in someone else's arse. An' now you know what it feels like to love someone when it ain't reciprocated.'

`Oh God, I don't like this. I just want to go upstairs and..'

`Don't panic, pet, you will, you will. see. you get furious and just take me anyway.'

`But I bought candles!'

Spike took hold of his sleeve and began to walk backward toward the stairs. `Don't worry; this'll be good.'

He manoeuvred Giles into the bedroom and began to strip him slowly. Giles began to enjoy himself once more and, as he was still only in pyjamas, didn't take long to be naked. He pushed Spike back onto the bed and began to unfasten his jeans. Suddenly, Spike flipped him over and lay on him heavily, shaking his head. `No.'

Giles blinked.

`All grown up, remember? An' been givin' it for too long now. Ain't gonna take it no more. Fact..'

He produced something from the pocket of this duster, and that was the first time that Giles noticed that, once more, Spike was wearing this item. Suddenly, a cool fluid poured over Giles' groin, dribbling down his thighs and pooling on the bed. Spike emptied the entire bottle of hand lotion over the human, and then took hold of the button on his jeans, watching the human's expression carefully. `I loved you.'

Giles blinked once more, distracted by the fact that Spike was slowly undoing his flies. `I loved you, and I wanted you to love me. But you didn't - you just used me. You bloody chained me up and forgot `bout me sometimes! So, how's it feel now? I'm gonna shaft you, and I don't feel shit for you. I'm just using you, you sad old fuck.'

He pushed in on this last word.

Stunned, Giles didn't have time to flinch at the feeling of stretch - but then it wasn't unpleasant; it was very, very erotic. He looked down. For the first time in his entire life, he had a part of someone else's body inside his. It was a joining more fundamental than he could have imagined. He groaned at the pleasure and thought for a brief moment that he saw a small, pleased smile around Spike's lips, but it was lost as the vampire began his tirade once more. To every thrust he added a bitter comment. `Like takin' it, human? Feel all manly do you now? Don't think so. Think you're feeling dirty, Giles, cus you like it too much. All those times you came in my ass; all that suckin' you made me do. well, fuck you, Giles, I'm givin' you one now.'

He gave Giles a final, malicious look, but then buried his face into the naked shoulder as he came with a long groan of pleasure. Hidden thus, Spike's expression as he came out of the orgasm was not visible, so Giles was left only with the memory of malice when Spike pulled out, fastened himself up, and stalked out.

He did not see Spike again until the following day. Confused, aroused, confused by this arousal, Giles went to the crypt. He cautiously pushed open the door and found Spike sprawled in an armchair, reading. There was little else in the place, just a chair and a vampire, and Giles shivered slightly at the deadness of the atmosphere.

`Oh. You.'

`Spike.'

`Yeah?'

`I'm a little.. Can I sit down?'

`Where?'

`Good point.' As Spike got up and began to pace, Giles took the opportunity of the empty chair and sat down, hoping against hope that nothing currently dormant in it was about to sense his warm blood and reanimate.

`What's happening?'

`Where?'

`Stop being obtuse, Spike; you know what I mean.'

`I'm using you. Treating you like shit.'

`Ah. And why? I'm not sure that I'm all that clear on that bit.'

`Cus I can.'

Giles looked at him for a moment then got up and began to leave. Spike watched him carefully, stepping away slightly as Giles passed him but, suddenly, Giles whirled around and hit him - just a light slap, but the intent was clear. Spike put his hand wonderingly to his cheek. `What the hell are you doing?'

`I don't like this game anymore.'

Spike came closer. `What do you want to play then, Giles? You enjoyed that, didn't you? I can smell it.'

`Shut up.'

`Why? `Fraid I'm gonna turn that key a bit more? `Fraid you'll be obliterated when all those emotions come wingin' out?'

`Stop it.'

`Do it again.'

`No.'

Spike stood so close he was almost standing on Giles' feet. He took hold of the limp arm and banged the hand against this face, on his chest, lower, on his bulge. `Hit me.'

The arm twitched to life, and Giles pushed him away, enjoyed that, so swung again and felt a surge of desire, as his fist contacted with cool flesh.

`That's right. This is a good game.' Spike backed away but not very fast. Giles followed the clear invitation and hit him again. `Let's play father and son, hey? I like that; I'll be your childe, an' you be my..'

`My child? No!' Giles shook himself lightly, the desire entirely gone with that imagery. `That's quite repulsive.'

Spike just shrugged. `'K. But I've played that `fore, and it was good. but then I guess it was more real then. Whatever.' He hopped up on a tomb, pleased - the watcher now effectively distracted from departure.

`So, you `it me cus I've been treating you so badly.'

`Oh God. Are we back to that?'

`Well, duh! I've been away ten years; least you could do is make some effort.'

`So what form of `bad treatment' did you have in mind? You can't hurt me; so I think your options are a little limited.'

`Can't hurt you, hey? Well, we'll see `bout that. There's more than one form of pain, Rupert. You know that; you've been in pain all your life.'

It seemed a strange place to Giles - this gloomy crypt - to have his armour pierced by such an effective salvo.

He mustered all his considerable strength of personality and said coolly, `I am just like other people, Spike. There is no great mystery.'

`You're gonna be easier to hurt than I thought.'

Giles spun on his heel and began to leave once more. With his hand on the door, he took one last look around. `You're not seriously thinking of staying in here, are you?'

`Why not? `S better than a bathtub.'

`Ah.'

`An' visitors just as interesting.'

`Visitors?'

Spike chuckled. `You, pillock. You're me first.'

`Oh. Yes. Sorry.'

Spike slid off the tomb and threw himself into the chair once more.

`Err. will I see you then?'

`Dunno.'

`Will you come over?'

`Dunno.'

`Are we still. playing?'

`Dunno.'

`Oh. piss off, Spike.'

If Spike repeated his irritating comment, Giles didn't hear it. He slammed the crypt door shut with venom he rarely felt and stomped back to his apartment. He had the feeling that the game had gone badly wrong but, as he seemed to have mistaken the rules, he had no way to put it right.

Spike didn't leave the crypt for some time. He sat in his chair, the book in his hand idly swinging to and fro. He was so close now he could almost taste it: almost taste the human. What profoundly depressed and puzzled him in equal measure was that this taste had nothing to do with blood, or drinking, or feeding. As a vampire, that was extremely disturbing.

Spike was wrong. Giles didn't feel pain exactly, more a desperate frustration and longing. A sense of hopelessness set in that he couldn't shake. The vampire was subtle; he gave him that. Whenever Giles failed at something - when he wasn't quite quick enough, strong enough, clever enough, brave enough - there was Spike, standing to one side watching him critically, disdainfully. Disgust would crawl slowly over Spike's face as he looked at Giles sometimes, and Giles could see in his mind pictures of them together, and he began to feel the disgust, too.

Spike seemed to flaunt his desirability in exact, opposite proportion to the disgust he engendered. He sat provocatively; he walked provocatively; he even seemed to be able to smoke provocatively: the nervous, fast smoking now given way to lazy, seductive pulls on that slim, pale column. If Giles went to the bathroom, the vampire would be waiting for him outside, leaning on the wall, one knee bent up, smoking. Giles could actually feel the hard floor as he mentally sank to his knees, so vivid was the imagery Spike conjured up. As soon as he saw that the human wanted him, Spike would laugh and shrug off the wall, swaggering back down the stairs to the others, his face contorted in amused disgust. Sometimes after a meeting, Spike would stay behind for a while, and Giles' heart would rise in his throat that something was about to happen - something that would end this hideous impasse. Once Spike had inspected his stuff, however, and derided his taste in everything, he would leave, and Giles was left almost weeping with frustration that he couldn't have what he wanted, and almost banging his head on the wall in desperation that he didn't know what that was anyway.

When he felt the human was ready, Spike stepped the game up a bit. He waited until he could almost smell the watcher's confusion and then, one night when he joined the gang on patrol, he said casually, `Got some info for you, watcher. Wanna hear it?'

Giles stammered and glanced nervously at Buffy. She shrugged. `Catch me up later.'

They stood and watched the others leave then, shockingly, Spike suddenly propelled Giles back against a wall. He lay heavy on the warm body, spreading his arms against the cool marble and rubbing them together slightly. He slowly lowered his mouth to Giles', but just before the kiss, just as Giles was closing his eyes, his heart pounding, his mouth dry, Spike laughed and jerked his mouth away. Giles, furious, made to push him off, but then the mouth was on his neck, the tongue in the soft hollow of his throat, just licking around, just teasing and tempting. `Let me, Giles; I can't hurt; you know that. It'll be so good.'

Giles didn't think the devil himself could have been any more seductive. That voice, the feel of that hard body pressed against him, and his need! Just to have Spike talking to him, let alone pressed like this against him.. As Spike predicted, Giles felt himself almost obliterated by the emotions that were flying out of his locked down heart, and there was little confusion. He murmured - as if justifying something he knew he was about to do - `I love you.'

Spike groaned into the vibrations of the throat. `Let me then. Please, Rupert.' He felt the tiny nod of surrender and sank one razor sharp fang into the wellspring of his eternity. It was so sweet. The blood pulsed only skin depth away from his lips. He'd never bitten a willing victim before. He missed the fear and the screaming, but there were compensations; this was so erotic. He felt the skin puncture to the sharpness of his incisor; he felt himself swell, felt the human swell, too, and rewarded him with a hand on his crotch as he completed the bite. Giles winced. Spike screamed and jerked back, falling to his knees. When the agony subsided, he laid his forehead to the ground so the human could not see his grin. It didn't matter about the chip now - it was immaterial - the watcher had been willing to let him bite. Next time, he'd make the human open himself up, and then he'd feed until his belly swelled with blood, until the watcher's emptiness matched his own. Only when Giles was drained entirely would the human be free. and then the exquisite refilling could begin. Spike stood, flicked an eyebrow at the wound, licked his lips provocatively, and sauntered away.

Stunned, Giles buttoned his collar over the mark, his knees shaking slightly from shock. He wished he'd not winced, and that simple fact shocked him profoundly. He had wanted to feel the slow sucking out of his blood, could feel a slight tingle even now through his body, on the tip of his cock, at the thought of that passage of fluid. Would it pulse into Spike's mouth? Would it spurt in short, hot bullets into that welcoming cavern? Would he cum to the feel of Spike's mouth so intimately on him? Would the vampire be grateful? Would Spike love him again?

Giles - leaning against that crypt in the dark cemetery - felt he would let Spike drain him unto death, if only the vampire would want him again. He went home and lay in the dark contemplating this surrender of all his principles.

He came in sometime during the night. Giles felt the mattress depress. He smelt tobacco and alcohol - waves of alcohol fumes poured off the cool figure. Cold, eager hands began to unbutton his jacket. Even more eager hands explored down to his warm depths, stroking though the wiry curls, enticing trails dragged across the sensitive tip of his penis. A mouth nuzzled into his erection, licked him through the soft material; a tongue dived in through the slit in his pyjamas and found him. Before he could react, the tongue played around the wound just as enticingly. Cockhead, wound, cockhead, wound, the vampire played and teased alternately, and Giles knew what he had to do to make the mouth stay down eventually, to make the vampire suck him. His body screamed so loud for release that the sound drowned out the small voice telling him that there would be no coming back from this surrender. He found a knife in his hand: a sharp painful instrument that cut his finger as he took it awkwardly. The gasps of pleased surprise from the vampire sent jolts of pleasure through his swollen balls, but when his finger was pulled slowly into the cool mouth, he thought he had never felt delight so intense. The vampire sucked at the finger like a baby, playing it in his mouth, easing out the precious drops of blood, but all the time he was easing Giles' hand toward his neck, easing the blade onto the thin skin that held much richer rewards.

The blade made a considerable mess when Giles pressed too hard. Sharp, like a razor, it sliced through the skin, and the blood pooled out. Giles took the soft, blond hair in both hands and gently eased the moaning vampire onto the food. He was right. The sucking made him want to cum. He felt the blood leaving that small wound as intently as he felt an orgasm. The sucking was exquisite, the tongue just probing, the lips mouthing to the raw edges, and the sound of the vampire feeding. it was a sound to cum to: unconscious mewing, deep heartfelt groans, and under all this - under those greedy sounds - a deep rumbling purr.

The vampire began to squeeze Giles' balls gently, as if at each suck he was stimulating the fluid. The room began to fade slightly, and a small buzzing sounded in Giles' ears. Instead of holding the blond hair to him, he pushed it away slightly but, like a desperate infant, the vampire snuggled in tighter to his feeding. Giles had to get him away; he was not as lost to this iniquity as he feared; he had the strength to push him off, and the vampire could not resist.

The vampire's eyes were dilated; he was agitated, laid bare for a moment. He seemed, for a brief second, to want something else from Giles, but when Giles tried to get him to replace his hand inside the warm opening of his pyjamas, Spike snapped back from wherever he had been. He jerked his head back with a disbelieving sneer. `Yeah. Like I'm gonna do that, you sad fuck. See ya.'

He crawled off the bed, flared out his duster, shook his shoulders, lit a cigarette, and swaggered, grinning, out of the room.

Giles knew something was badly wrong with him the next day at a meeting. He looked at the bright, cheerful faces, as if seeing them through an oddly distorted lens. Something stabbed at him, and he went hesitatingly up to his bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. Panic. He'd felt panic when he'd looked at them. His heart was beating fearfully, and he felt slightly nauseous, but he tried to shake the feeling off and went downstairs again.

It was no better. He could hear a faint buzzing noise in his ears, and they all swam in front of him still, as if that damn lens was making them swell large, then pulse away. He excused himself and asked them to go, but when he was alone, it was even worse. Normal things that he had made his life - making a cup of tea, listening to the radio, writing a few letters home, thinking about home and his life after Sunnydale - suddenly seemed terrifying. He didn't want to think about life after this time, after Sunnydale, after Buffy. He didn't want to live in that house in England on his own, becoming sad and old. All the things he had looked forward to as his rewards for the life he now lived - going to the theatre, friends in London, new books - all seemed sad and incredibly lonely.

The pulse in his heart got worse all morning, the panic at everyday thoughts so bad that, eventually, he had an uncharacteristic daytime drink and went back to bed.

He actually felt tearful but knew then that he must just have an odd virus and that when he woke, he would be better. He began to drift off to this comforting thought but then it arrived again.

Giles tried to say no. He argued. He pushed it away. He went into the bathroom, but the vampire followed him in. So loving, so full of life, it was like a bright spark in the darkness of Giles' day. Hands all over him, hands wanting him, promises of love, apologies for being so cruel, tears, laughter; Giles surrendered once more to the promise of the love, and it fed deeply from the wound that had throbbed all day, reminding him of this debasement. He just stood pressed into the harsh white tiles of the bathroom wall, the sucking demon playing gently with the foreskin of his cock.

When his legs began to weaken, the vampire could not hold him up and continue to play. When it let the soft penis drop, Giles found enough strength to push it away again. The vampire dropped its head onto its chest, panting deeply. Giles put a hand out for support, for Spike to help him but, once more, Spike lifted his head gleefully - still in demon form this time - and spat at him. He slammed the bathroom door so hard some things fell off the shelf. Giles sank to the floor and a well of black rose up to meet him. He did not come round until late into the night. He was cold. Shivers wracked his whole body. He crawled to the bed and climbed in, wrapping himself tightly in the covers, but before he could think about what had happened, he fell into a mercifully deep sleep.

He told the others that he had a virus. They were still worried about him. He could hardly talk to them; his voice would not project enough to get the words out, softened as they were by the blackness that threatened to overwhelm him. He lost interest in the daily tasks of life and did not shave or dress for two days. Every sound made him jump, expecting to turn and find the devil that he could not resist.

Buffy watched him carefully and, on the third day, threatened him with Joyce. While he could fool the youngsters that he had a bug, he did not fancy those mature, thoughtful eyes discovering his secrets. So, on the third day he dressed and shaved and, when they all came over, tried to appear his normal self. It was as if there was a sheet of glass between them. He spoke quite rationally; he acted quite like himself but, at any minute, he felt the glass would shatter and all his pretensions would fall like shards of glass to the floor.

Buffy continued to watch her watcher carefully, perhaps more tuned into what was happening than he suspected. After an hour or so, she brightly announced that they were having a party at the Bronze that night, and that he had to come. He cried off. She insisted, and the Mom threat hung large between them. He capitulated and found himself later that evening dragging through thick treacle to get his unwilling body to the bar.

He didn't particularly like coming here at the best of times. When he felt more like dying than partying, it was hideous. The music made him feel sick; the smell was even worse. He sat quietly in a corner trying to be Giles for everyone, and then he saw him.

He was standing by the pool table, a cue in his hand, idly leaning on it, watching a young couple play. Occasionally, this pair looked over to him, and their looks were full of admiration and need for approval.

The vampire seemed to watching over them as if.. Giles sat up and looked at the couple carefully. He realised they were vampires, too, although quite why he thought this, he couldn't say. He nodded at them to Buffy. She turned, looked them over with distaste and confirmed with a nod. She got up as if to do something about the outrage, but he held her arm and shook his head, mumbling something about a scene and ruining the party. She shrugged and went back to the dance floor, her stance clearly indicating that she'd get them later.

Giles watched the trio avidly, soaking up the pain of seeing him with his own kind. The younger vampire - a slight, pretty female - missed a shot, and Spike laughed and took her place, looking up with a teasing glance to the boy who suddenly looked less sure of his own success. Spike cleared the table quickly, and the boy groaned, throwing his cue down childishly. Spike went around the table and picked it up, giving it back with a mock-jab at the boy as if it were a stake. The boy laughed; Spike reached out a hand and, somehow, naturally, easily, he pulled the boy into an intimate embrace.

With his chin on the boy's shoulder, he turned.

He looked directly at Giles, flicked up an eyebrow, and licked up the boy's neck.

Giles felt the lick. He felt the look of disdain even more. Most of all, though, he felt the nausea rising in his throat and only just made it to the bathroom before vomiting. As he leant over the toilet bowl, he heard the click of a lighter from behind and smelt the familiar smell of a freshly lit cigarette. He stood weakly. `Go away.'

`You not feeling well, Giles?'

`Fuck off.'

`Oh! Nice. Here I am seein' if you're all right like, and what'd I get? Nice language like that.'

Giles pushed past him and began to splash water on his face. The door banged open once more, and the young vampire swaggered in. Giles suddenly reanimated from the dark place he'd been sinking into. His natural and very highly tuned sense of self-preservation told him that this was serious. Spike could not bite him, but this one could.

`Food?'

Spike turned to the boy and pulled him close, running his fingers through the rumpled dark hair. `Take it easy, `k? This is Giles. Say hello to Giles.'

`Hello, Giles.'

Giles swallowed. He couldn't work out which emotion was dominant: fear that he could be killed, or jealous fury that Spike was holding that boy and not him.

Spike pouted a little and seemed to be weighing something up. The boy entwined around him like a puppy seeking attention. Spike laughed and kissed him. The boy glowed and began to pace around for all the world like a small, young, Spike.

`So, what do we do now?' Giles tried to sound nonchalant but knew that Spike would hear the lie.

Surprisingly, Spike looked at him, still pouting, and said, `I don't know.'

`Let's eat him.' The other two, who both knew they were not actually talking about the situation in the bathroom, ignored this helpful suggestion from the youngster.

Spike chuckled and said under his breath, `Think I've lost the plot a bit.'

Giles felt something swell in the core of his body, and it made him ache just to touch Spike. `Can we agree.. Can we move on from here now? Let's agree I do love you, and you go back to loving me?'

`Hey!' Once more, Spike pointedly ignored the interpretation, but Giles nodded at the boy.

`That was a bit unnecessary, wasn't it?'

Spike followed his gaze. `What?'

`Fucking that to try and make me jealous?'

`Hey!'

`You think I've fucked him?'

`I know you have. You've got satisfaction crawling out of you.'

`Hey!'

`You bastard, Giles.'

`Spike, you've practically been swallowing him all night.'

`Hey!'

`You still have no idea, do you? You actually think what you feel is love? You're still pathetic, and you know what? I'm sick of this game now. I'm bored of it. I've got more feelings in these,' Spike stuck his fingers in the air in a two-fingered salute, `than you've got in yer whole fucking body. Go find someone else to play with, Giles; you're beyond my help.'

Embarrassment - hideous, cringing embarrassment - overwhelmed Giles, for he suddenly burst into tears. They'd been threatening for days, a shaky undercurrent to every conversation, and now they burst forth, and he could not call them back or stop.

*****