When Giles finally came out, he'd showered and was wrapped only in a towel, hoping he might convince Spike this was the reason he'd make his odd dash to the bathroom in the first place. The bedroom was dark when he came in; Spike was watching the TV with the sound muted, lying on his belly on top of the sheets, flicking between channels. Giles got into the other side of the bed and pulled the sheet modestly up to his waist, but he watched Spike's back for a while, wondering what the vampire was thinking.

Eventually, he said quietly, `I'm sorry.'

Spike twisted his head around and peered at Giles through the gloom. `What's it like to cry for someone?'

`Err� what?'

`I want to know what it feels like to cry.'

Giles gave a faint smile. `I would have said that you were asking the wrong person, but since I've met you, I seem to�.' He trailed off uncertain and embarrassed. Spike turned and sat cross-legged close to him. He gave a small smile, and it seemed to match the human's uncertainty.

`What's so awful, Rupert, that you forget me chocolate?'

Giles wanted to tell him; he wanted to tell Spike that not only were the Initiative looking for him, but that Riley was intimate with Buffy, and that that changed all the equations, that changed loyalties and balances of power. Most of all he wanted to tell Spike that he thought Buffy suspected some of what was happening between them and that, in this, she held all the power. He held his own counsel though. He feared Spike would leave Sunnydale. He feared Spike would leave him. He feared to return to what he had been. Guilt at this selfishness racked his body. He rubbed a hand tiredly across his face and feigned interest in the silent television screen.

Spike watched the complex emotions flicker across this human's face with wonder. He wanted to open the man up and discover the source of all this emotion. He wanted to bathe in emotion as he had once bathed in blood. He wanted a map, a code, to decipher what he was feeling, but he feared sometimes that this human was too complex for him, that he would never understand what went on behind that reticent exterior. He pouted for a moment and then hesitatingly put a hand on Giles' belly. `No game?'

Giles' heart gave a small, eager start. He turned to face Spike and maddeningly felt tears prick his eyes once more. This complete unmanning in front of the vampire was becoming tiresome, but he couldn't control it. He nodded gratefully, and before Spike could resist, he pulled the cool form to him and curled Spike tightly to his chest.

By morning, Giles had made some difficult decisions, and he was glad when the light came so he could extract himself from the sleeping vampire's arms and begin preparations.

Spike knew the instant when the human woke, for he had lain awake all night listening to his heartbeat and his regular, deep breathing. Sharing a bed with a human was an endless source of fascination. He'd been truthful to Giles; he did remember everything about his life, but he'd lied when he said he never thought about it. Lying next to this beating heart brought back memories that made him feel slightly sick. It was the same feeling when he thought about what might happen when the game was over and the human tired of him. He pondered this feeling most of the night, comparing it to something he'd seen in Giles' eyes, something he'd heard in the strange sobbing. He had still not made sense of it all when Giles got up silently and left.

Spike spent the day much as he had the day before: using and abusing all Giles' stuff and making himself at home in the apartment. Giles did not make an appearance at all but, just after lunch, a soft knock at the door roused Spike from a daytime telly slump. He peered over the back of the couch and watched as the door swung slowly open. When Willow's face appeared, he cursed, and flung himself back down without much interest.

`Spike?'

`Yeah, what?'

`What are you doing here?'

Spike decided he'd better make an effort, or the watcher might have some embarrassing questions to answer. He sat up, glad he'd bothered to dress and said, as he lit a cigarette, `I'm waiting for the old git to get back. I've got some info for him.'

`Oh. So have I. I've got the flight times he asked me to look up on the net. Where's he gone?'

Spike didn't reply immediately, but smoked slowly, watching the spirals of smoke drift lazily up. When he did speak, his voice was quiet and calm. `Where's he going?'

`England, sometime this week he said.'

`Uh huh. When's he coming back?'

She frowned. `He only asked me to look up one way, and you'd better not tell Buffy that, she'd freak.'

`Yeah, guess she would. She's kinda fond of him.'

`So, will you give him this when he gets here? This was the only one I could find, and it won't be cheap.' She laid a piece of paper down on the arm of the couch and left.

Spike finished his cigarette and went upstairs to get his duster, boots, and a blanket. When he came down, he put the piece of paper by the kettle where he knew it would be found. He hesitated for a moment then scribbled something under the various jottings Willow had made. Grabbing the blanket, he left.

The crypt looked even less appealing as a place he wanted to live out his interminable eternity. He kicked sullenly at the armchair then spun on his heel and went out to kill something to cheer himself up. He watched a number of demons going about relatively harmless activities and couldn't be bothered to even scare them, let alone go to the trouble of killing them. Something stirred in his heart, which being dead, ought not to have anything in it at all. He didn't want to think about emotions anymore; he just wanted to be dead and at peace so, after a while, gave up his abortive attempts at fun and made his way slowly back to the crypt. He spotted the soldiers before they saw him, and he watched them cautiously from his vantage point as they slowly swept the cemetery. He didn't doubt who they were looking for, and this discovery, on top of Giles' betrayal�. As if summoned by thought, Spike watched Giles hail one of the soldiers. The soldier turned and greeted Giles, and they chatted for a while.

Spike knew this emotion; he'd felt it his whole unlife. Hatred so bitter that he felt it burn and warm his body, flooded into his brain, and his vision seemed to blur. He was being sold out by the man he'd come to�. He shook himself slightly; he was not so sad that he would think about anything that had happened over the last few weeks. Like most of the rest of his life and unlife, he tried to dismiss it as irrelevant and began to plan for the future.

He returned to the crypt and paced around, working out where he wanted to go. For some reason he couldn't concentrate as usual and put this down to a severe absence of nicotine, so leant against the wall and lit another cigarette. His hand shook slightly as he tried to connect the tiny flame to the small white column, and he laughed at his own incompetence. When his legs felt shaky, too, he cursed and turned his back to the wall, spreading his fingers out onto the cool stone for support.

He thought for a brief moment that he was going to vomit, for something rose in his body, but it was not physical. It made him shake even more. There was something coming, and he couldn't stop it. He tried hard. He put a hand to his mouth and clamped it tightly over. It didn't work. He put the other arm over his eyes to blind himself to the truth. That didn't work either. A huge sob tore into the silence of the crypt. It was followed by another. Spike sank to his knees, utterly disbelieving that these sounds had come from him, but when tears jabbed inside his eyes and began to trickle down his face, he realised they had. He was crying.

This was an emotion he could have lived without discovering, for it completely defeated his attempts to master it. He could not stop crying, and the harder he tried, the more the sobs shook his body and made him feel as if a blackness had entered his dead heart.

After a few minutes, he slipped into game face and, armoured thus, he managed to control the overwhelming blackness. He forced himself to his feet and stood against the wall once more. Gradually, he tested his human features, and when they held without crumbling into the weak, dribbling, creased up mess that came with the tears, he nodded and returned to the slightly damp cigarette.

He would have had himself completely under control, but Giles suddenly pushed open the door and came in.

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

Giles had gone home with most of his plans set in place. He took a short cut around the edge of the cemetery and was not all that surprised when he bumped into a group of camouflaged men making a slow, intent sweep of the ground. He stopped and nodded at Riley who acknowledged him and came over. `Sir. I should advise you, Sir, that's it's not safe for civilians in this area at night.'

`Really? I didn't know that. Thank you.' Giles was amused to see that irony was lost on this fine, upstanding specimen, and for a brief moment, wished Spike were here to enjoy the joke with him, but then cursed under his breath at that very thought. As if reading his mind, Riley said, `We're looking for the escaped hostile. Hostile 17.'

Giles felt his throat tightening. `I told you he was dust.'

Riley gave him an impenetrable look. `The chip is still functioning. We're reading its signal. You must have been mistaken. Sir.'

Giles nodded and backed away. As he walked home to Spike, he sent a prayer of thanks to most of the Gods he could name that he had spent the day so productively. He burst into the apartment and shouted for the vampire, surprised it was so unusually quiet and tidy. While he waited for Spike to emerge, he went to the kitchen to make some tea. He picked up the paper with the flight timings, pleased that Willow had got them so quickly. There were two that week that were suitable, and he made a mental calculation how quickly he could arrange to leave. His eye reached the part where the rather small, schoolgirl writing changed, and at first he couldn't take in what he was seeing. He absentmindedly poured the boiling water into the mug as he read it again.

"You only have one life, human. I'll have an eternity of them. I wonder who'll feel regret more.'

His blood ran cold and, as scalding water ran out over the counter, he dropped the kettle and ran blindly up the stairs. Spike hadn't had much stuff there, so it was hard to judge from its absence what had happened, but there was an unmistakable sense of desolation about the bedroom. He briefly checked the bathroom, but he knew that Spike was gone. Giles tipped his head back and swore vociferously, even kicking the wall in a fit of spite. Suddenly, he ran back down the stairs, grabbed the now rather soggy piece of paper and ran back out of the door, slamming it forcibly behind him.

When he got to the cemetery, he was careful not to be observed or followed. He went unerringly to the crypt and hesitantly pushed open the door. He saw Spike immediately; he was standing against the wall in a beam of moonlight. Giles went over to him, registering somewhere in his mind that the chair was on its side. He came to a halt in front of Spike and tipped his head on one side wonderingly. With an almost reverential look, he put one soft finger on the tears that still ran down the vampire's face. Spike did not turn away but looked at him through eyes huge with emotions he seemed unable to control.

Giles shook his head. `You didn't read the paper, Spike. Why didn't you bloody read it?'

Spike didn't reply and clamped his jaw tightly shut as if afraid of what might come out if he attempted to speak. Giles dug into the pocket of his jacket and pulled it out. `Did you not see all the flights were night ones? Oh, you foolish vampire. Did you think I'd let you out of my life now?'

Spike's chin actually wobbled, and they both seemed utterly fascinated by this: Giles, his hand just stroking over the trembling lips; Spike, his eyes even wider and more puzzled. Giles moved his hand until a finger was just under Spike's jaw and, with this soft gesture, brought Spike into his embrace. He dug his fingers into Spike's hair; he pulled on the soft blond strands; he rubbed his face into the cool, silky ear; he murmured words that made no sense but said all he needed to say.

Still Spike did not speak so, more coherently, Giles began to outline his plans for their flight to England. He spoke of the trip and where they would go; he told Spike about Riley and Buffy's involvement. Spike pulled away and began to pace around in the dark, smoking violently, restlessly. Giles watched him then risked a quiet, `What's wrong?'

`Me. I'm wrong.'

`Ah. Because you cried?'

Spike hesitated, debating whether he could deny this, realising he couldn't. He nodded furiously and continued pacing.

`Are you angry that you were made to feel those emotions, or that you did feel them?'

`Fucking what?'

`Are you mad at me, or at yourself. It's rather important.'

Spike came back and peered closely at him. `I don't know. I feel everything when I look at you. It's all just a fucking mass of stuff. I can't work it all out and, yeah, I'm mad at you and at me, and� I don't know! How do you learn all this stuff?'

Giles watched him pace away again. `Would it help if I told you I don't understand it all either? I'm the same when I think about you, Spike; what did you expect? You're a vampire. I should fear you, hate you. I don't do either. I look at you and something twists inside me until I can hardly stand to be in my own skin because it keeps me separate from you. I hear you, and I can't bear to speak in case you stop talking. When I think of you, I think I should just go away, for those thoughts make me so unlike myself that I'm entirely lost anyway, and I don't know the way back. What did you think I would think when I got home and found this?' Accusingly, he held up the paper.

Spike spun around. `I don't know how to cope with this! All I know is anger and hate and deep, dangerous passion. I don't want to think about your bloody hands on me. I don't want to remember your fucking voice when you sing, or think about how you laugh at things I say! I'm not human; how am I supposed to do this? This was supposed to be a soddin' game� just fucking around and good shagging. Not this. I didn't want to end up soddin' crying in a bloody crypt cus I thought you didn't love me!'

`You never wanted it to be a game. I knew that from the start; don't lie to yourself.'

Spike tipped his head back. `Neither did you.'

`That's not true�.' Giles trailed off uncertainly as he watched Spike's face. He swallowed slowly. `Last night, I felt as if I'd lost you, and I don't care how this all started really. All I'm concerned about is where it's gone.'

Spike came slowly toward him. `Where has it gone?'

`Why were you crying?' Giles began to move to meet Spike. `What do you want from me?'

`I want�.' Spike took hold of Giles' hair, tugging lightly with one hand on the longish strands at the back of his head. He dashed the heel of his other hand across his face and tried to look Giles in the eye, finding this very difficult. `I want to wake up happy cus of you.'

Giles groaned slightly. `I've never said these things to anyone, and I can't find the words.'

Spike nodded. `You know I understand, don't you?'

`You can't say them either, can you vampire?'

Spike finally looked him in the eye. `I want to learn though. I want to be able to love.'

`Can I teach you anything?' This soft question seemed aimed more at himself than Spike, but Spike smiled, a slight mischievous look returning to his stressed face.

`Teacher and pupil, hey? Like the sound of that game.'

Giles chuckled and, when he found that Spike did not resist, pulled him into a welcoming embrace. `No more games, ever. If we're to do this, we do it as ourselves, yes?'

Spike looked up at him with a puzzled expression. `'K, but not sure I know who that is.'

`Something else to find out then, isn't it? In England.'

`Oh, yeah. So� bloody hell, England. Ain't been there for fucking years.'

Giles pushed Spike to arm's length. `It's not just because of the Initiative. I wanted to go anyway. Something about these last few weeks�.' He gritted his teeth to the inevitability of having to say something so intimate. `Something about being with you has made me question things in my past. I want to go home and� face things, I suppose. Does that sound strange?'

Spike pursed his lips then tapped gently on the side of Giles' skull. `Told ya; it's all in there still.'

`Yes, I know you did. It set me to thinking, and when I felt such� panic at the thought of losing you, I realised that I was about to lose other people I feared for, too.'

`Huh. Panic, hey?'

Giles smiled. `Yes, panic I can admit to.'

`'S okay. Like panic. Enjoying thinking about you thinking `bout me.'

Giles glanced down and raised his eyebrow. `You bounce back, Spike; I'll give you that.'

`Here or your place?' Seeing Spike already had him pressed backward over a tomb, Giles felt offering the choice a little unfair. Spike had his hips thrust forward against Giles' groin, the hard bulge in his jeans very evident in that position. `Last time we were in `ere like this, you didn't even speak to me.'

`Ah. No.'

`So� how's about I hear something this time. Beggin' would be good.'

`I'm not sure I do begging very well.'

Spike pouted and began to untuck Giles' shirt, sliding his hands up onto the warm chest. He ground his erection into Giles' and, through the layers separating them, Giles could feel the urgency of the vampire's need. He groaned lightly. `Please.'

Spike smiled but shook his head sadly. Giles coughed softly and added, `I want you.'

A raised eyebrow encouraged another, `Please.' A hand cupping him drew forth a more desperate, `Spike, please.' He couldn't beg when Spike was kissing him, but when the cool lips withdrew with a small smirk, Giles said raggedly, `I want you inside me.' Slow unbuttoning of Spike's jeans didn't add anything � the pause before getting himself out did. As Spike watched him through lowered lids, his hands just hovering over his opening, Giles hissed between gritted teeth, `Now, for God's sake, Spike. I ache for you.' It was Spike's turn to look slightly flustered at this, and he rewarded Giles by exposing his swollen erection, bringing it out into the cool moonlight that illuminated the crypt. Giles moaned at the sight, and when a small drop of clear precum oozed out of the dark tip, the moan turned to soft curses of desire. Spike took Giles' mouth again, pressing the human back so he could feel the twitching and straining of the warmer erection still encased in soft material. He grinned into the kiss when Giles murmured against his lips, `Just take me, Spike. I can feel you already. Make me cum.'

He turned Giles around and just pulled his trousers down as far as his knees. Spike hissed at the erotic sight of the human's arse, pale in the moonlight, exposed, ready for him. He felt into the crack and rubbed some of his own precum over the puckered skin. Giles arched his back at the feel of Spike's fingers playing with him, and he breathed softly, `Lick me again.'

Spike cursed and fell to his knees, plunging his mouth onto the hot skin, nibbling into the edges of the hole just enough to make the human curse, too. He eased his tongue through the tight muscles, coaxing it to relax with gentle probing and licking. When he was in, he pressed his whole mouth to Giles' hole and blew onto the wet skin. Giles laughed and groaned in the same breath, so Spike did it once more, this time with his hands around Giles' erection, rubbing the tip very gently onto the cold stone of the tomb. Giles hands flew down in an instinctive response to monitor and control this dangerous activity, but when the soft blowing stopped and the tongue withdrew, he was forced to replace his hands on the top of the tomb. Spike rewarded him by thrusting his tongue in and out of the hole for a while, still rasping the tip of Giles' exposed cockhead against the cool marble.

Giles felt an orgasm swelling in his balls and put a hand around to find Spike. `Inside, now, please.' He would have begged more; he would have begged until he had no pride left, but he physically couldn't speak as the repetitive rubbing of his erection took breath entirely from him. Spike rose to his feet and stood leaning into Giles' spread backside. He knew Giles was coming; he could feel the tension in the cock and the swelling in the balls when he cupped them swiftly. Instead of rubbing Giles over the marble, he took the warm cock in his hand instead and clamped down on the root with preternatural strength. Giles howled with frustration and shock; he'd never had anyone do that before, but when Spike began to tease his hole with the tip of his cool penis, the human was utterly silenced, entranced by the level of his need to be penetrated. When Spike finally pushed in on the slickness of his own precum, Giles began to pant his need in urgent, ragged words, `Yes. That's it. Oh. God. In. And out. Yes, oh yes. Harder. Find� ahh. Ahh. Ahh. Oh.' Spike grinned.

`Like that? Yeah, so do I. God, Giles, your arse is so hot. I wanna cum in you, deep in you. Do you want that?'

Giles spread himself as far as his half-mast clothes would allow and groaned a desperate reply. 'Deep. Yes. Please, let me go. Let me cum. Go, cum. Now. Please.'

`Beg me for that, too.'

`Oh, God, I'm begging you, Spike; let me go. I'm so hard, and I want to� oh!' Spike suddenly released Giles and, crouching down slightly, came at him from an increased position of strength, using all the muscles in his strong thighs to drive his cock into the spread backside. Giles was propelled over the tomb until his feet were off the ground, and he hung impaled on Spike's cock. He cried out as his penis was crushed beneath him, but then gasped as it jerked and erupted a stream of hot cum against the uncomfortably cold stone. Spike saw the trickle of cum escape and run darkly down the side of the tomb, and the sight made something give deep in his groin. The orgasm he'd been controlling until then overwhelmed him, and he shook his sperm so deep into the human's body that, for one moment, he expected it to join the small trickle and flood to the floor through the human's own orifices. He couldn't stop jetting sperm as if he emptied a lifetime's need for release though this one orgasm. He cried out as the rhythmic thrusting drew more and more fluid out of him. Giles suddenly reared back and regained his spread-eagled position, and as he braced himself to the thrusting, he thrust back slightly. Spike swore, took him around the waist and began a rapid jerking that rattled Giles' teeth and made his semi-hard and still leaking cock sway and swing into the tomb.

At last, Spike stopped. On an inward thrust, deeply embedded, he stopped moving and just stood in a pool of cum that dripped off the tomb and out of Giles.

A sudden silence hit them both, and they both realised at the same time that they had been making a considerable amount of noise. Spike chuckled and, with a small warning tap on Giles' head, he pulled back, allowing a huge flood of cum to wash out. Giles groaned, and they both knew that some of the pleasure had gone out of that sound, but he chuckled, too, and pulled up his trousers, fastening them with a grimace of distaste. Spike hopped up onto the tomb as he did himself up, and when he was as decent as he ever got, he lit a cigarette. He watched Giles out of narrowed eyes then said teasingly, `Nice line in begging there, Rupert.'

Unperturbed, Giles attempted to get onto the tomb alongside Spike. He managed the hop up, but winced when his backside encountered the hardness. Spike pouted and after a moment's thought, offered him his cigarette. Giles looked surprised but took it and smoked for a moment before handing it back. He made a face. `God, another addiction I don't need.'

Spike grinned and, before he could fish, Giles added softly, `And yes, I think addiction is a very good description of how I feel about you right now.'

Spike turned away, pretending to study the empty crypt, but he handed back his cigarette, and Giles took it once more. They sat for a long time just enjoying the silence and the closeness. Their thighs lay against one another and, every so often, one or other of them would move slightly, pressing them closer together. Eventually, Giles lay his hand on Spike's thigh. `Come back with me tonight. You can't stay here; it's not safe.'

Spike nodded. `When we going?'

`Tomorrow, as soon as it's dark. We can wait for the flight at the airport. I shall feel less uneasy about you there.'

Suddenly, shockingly, Spike turned to him and, grasping the back of his neck in a tight hold, he kissed Giles deeply, then pulled away, saying lightly, as if it were of no matter, `Love you.' He hopped off and swaggered toward the door. `Coming then? Cus I'm fucking starvin'.'

Too shocked to do anything more than follow, Giles trailed behind the vampire, as he made his way arrogantly out of the place where he was so vulnerable. Giles chuckled to himself as he watched this show of bravado and finally jogged to catch Spike up. He pushed him slightly in the back in a familiar gesture and said, `I do, too, and let's not discuss this again, yes?'

*****
Part 10:

`Oh. Bloody hell!' Giles peered at the freezing downpour from the warmth of the airport arrivals lounge. Spike looked morosely out at the rain that hid the onset of dawn.

`Come on, gotta get out of here.' Giles nodded and they made their way silently to the car hire desk and collected the keys. They stood on the small courtesy bus, jostled by other equally cold, wet travellers and wandered around the carpark in the rain looking for the right car. When they located it, they threw their bags in, and Giles headed straight for one of the airport hotels where they were to hole up for the day. Spike mumbled about the lack of sunlight and suggested they just risk it, but Giles wasn't about to see Spike go up in flames, despite wishing that he would do just that once or twice on the long flight.

Jet-lagged, hungry, and irritable, Giles flung himself onto his bed and prepared to snooze until it got dark. A knock at the door made him groan and, when Spike sauntered in and began to test the beds, he indicated to the corridor once more. `Out.'

Spike pouted and took off his duster, getting himself comfortable against one of the headboards. `No sex, promise. Scouts' honour.'

`You have no honour, and you were never in a uniform of any sort. Out, please.'

`How'm I gonna feed?'

Giles paused. `You'll have to wait `til we get there; I've got something arranged for you there hopefully. Sorry.'

`Oh friggin hell; I'm starvin'!'

Unfortunately, just at that moment, room service arrived for Giles, and he sheepishly rolled in a large quantity of food for himself. `You're welcome to share�.'

`Yeah, I can eat it, but it ain't gonna stop me needing what I need.'

`No. I suppose not.'

`Please.'

`What?'

`You know what. We both want it.'

`Absolutely not.'

`Why not? You got off on it.'

`No, I did not. It make me anaemic and poorly and, to be honest, I don't think I've quite recovered yet.'

`Yeah, but Rupert�.' Spike slid slowly off the bed and came over to sit next to Giles on his bed. `I was being a shit then, wasn't I? It's better than sex when it's done right, promise. You'll want it more than life itself by the end.'

`Better not begin then, hadn't I?'

No! Please!'

Spike's face was genuinely outraged. He'd thought the human would capitulate easily, and he was very, very hungry.

Giles actually felt a little guilty at refusing Spike but then berated himself for being so confused. `Don't make me feel guilty about this, Spike.'

The door slammed so loud, Giles wondered if they'd heard it in reception, too.

Spike returned to his room, trapped by the daylight that prevented him from escaping his confinement. He made it inside the door before the strange feelings began to well up inside him again. Once more, he resorted to his vampire face in an attempt to control himself but, this time, the change didn't work and embarrassingly, even as a vampire, he found himself with tears running down his demonic features. He slid back to human form and hunkered down onto the floor, covering his head with his arms. If he stayed still enough and silent enough, he could concentrate his entire being on not thinking and not feeling. It worked until he heard the soft knock at the door. He ignored it, still concentrating on not being there. It came again, this time accompanied by a low calling of his name. Once more, he ignored it. A few minutes later he heard a key turn in the lock and Giles saying a murmured 'Thank you' to someone.

Giles came into the room and squatted down in front of Spike. 'I am so sorry.'

Spike did not look up.

Giles put his hands to Spike's arms and pulled them away. 'I� I want you to� if that's what you want. I just seem to want what you want, and that's so confusing, I can't even think about it. So, please, here you are�.' He rolled up his sleeve and offered Spike his wrist.

Spike looked up and the expression on his face made Giles rock back. The human lost his balance and sprawled onto the carpet with a soft grunt of annoyance. Spike sprung up and began to pace. 'What's happening to me? This hurts - not thoughts hurt but here�.' He beat at his dead chest as he tried to explain the inexplicable to Giles. 'I feel like it's beatin' wildly. Like I'm possessed by you.'

Giles climbed back to his feet and sat nervously on the edge of the bed. 'I'm not sure�.'

'I don't wanna feed off you! Watcher, I'm a soddin' vampire, but I don't wanna feed off you.'

'You said�.'

'I know I did. But I didn't. Not really. And why is that?' He began to strike his chest once more, and Giles winced at the power of the blows. 'If my heart could beat I'd cut it out. I can't take this�.'

'What do you want, Spike? Do you want to go back to how it was before? Before me? Before the chip? Hell, I don't know, before being turned?'

Spike came over to stand in front of Giles - too close really - the human had to strain his neck back to look up at the angry figure. Suddenly, Spike collapsed, falling to his knees in front of Giles. 'I want to wake up and 'ave you happy.' As he spoke, a small sob rent his form, and he bent his head to Giles' lap, burying his face into the warm material. Giles laid his head on the lowered blond head then bent and buried his face into the hair, too.

'I came back here to receive forgiveness, but I return with a blasphemy that obsesses me.' This was spoken so quietly, Spike doubted it was meant for him to hear, but he did hear, and raised his head, rubbing at the tears with the heel of his hand. He looked up to Giles' troubled eyes. 'I thought we came 'ere cus of me� cus of the cunts in camouflage.'

Giles began to rub the ball of his thumb over the tracks of tears, pressing into the sharp cheekbones that shadowed Spike's face. 'Partially� mostly. But I wanted to do things� say things that I've never had the�.'

'Balls?'

Giles smiled, and Spike smiled a little, too, and some of the tension between them melted. 'Balls to say before. I've felt all these emotions, felt so� liberated, I suppose, since meeting you�.'

'Fucking me.'

Giles tapped him lightly on the nose. 'Stop interrupting and putting words in my mouth and, actually, it's not been the� err� fucking. It's been other things: the talking, the� just being together, I suppose. I feel quite free, and I want some closure here that I thought I might never be given the opportunity to have.'

'We're not gonna stay with that bint you couldn't get it up for, are we?'

Giles gave a tiny, but genuine start of horror at this suggestion and shook his head. 'Bloody hell, THAT did not occur to me.' He pulled Spike up and looked out at the rain-soaked day. 'Now, we've still got some hours to kill. Do you have any useful suggestions - as you won't let me feed you.'

Spike groaned at his own, hideous failure to be a respectable vampire and pouted for a moment. 'Nah. Haven't got a clue.' That his hands were exploring under Giles' shirt as he spoke, made the human grin. 'Guess we could watch telly.' He undid Giles' button and began to slide the zip down against the obvious bulge. 'Suppose you'll be jet-lagged or summit, so anything interesting'll be off the agenda.' He held Giles' cock for a moment, looking morosely at it, as if it were part of the boring, pass-the-daylight-hour timetable he was having to fashion. He fell to his knees once more in front of the human. 'What'd'ya reckon? Any ideas what we can do to pass the time?'

Giles groaned when his cock disappeared into Spike's mouth. He held tightly to the blond hair and felt once more that thrill at the thought of being taken like this by this talented vampire. Just as he was beginning to cum, Spike pushed back slightly and, pressed into the bed, Giles fell backward onto the soft mattress. Spike grinned and licked his lips, watching the raw penis bob in the bright light. 'Course, whatever we do's gotta be slow like, or� ya know� it won't pass the time.' He grinned at his own game and followed Giles onto the bed, kneeling beside the incredulous human.

'Err� how slow?'

Spike eyed the rain for a moment and seemed to be doing some kind of internal calculation, 'Five hours, I'd say, give or take a few minutes.'

'No� you couldn't.'

Spike looked down and, for a moment, his face was quite serious, almost sad. 'I think I've become your slave, Giles. There's nothing of me left; I'm so immersed in you.'

Giles looked faintly surprised at this, but after a moment's hesitation, pulled Spike down into his embrace, ignoring the promise of the exquisite, drawn out blowjob. Spike put his head onto Giles' chest with a small sigh, and just played gently on the erection with cool fingers. Giles sighed more deeply than the vampire and repeated just the one word, 'Obsession.'

He felt Spike smile against him and then, surprisingly, pull the covers over them both. Giles felt this to be something critical, fundamental, and he lifted Spike's face for a moment to see if the vampire was thinking this too. It seemed as if he was, for his face was troubled, though oddly content at the same time. Giles nodded, and they understood each other. The sex was there if they wanted it, defining their relationship. At this moment, though, that they didn't want it, seemed far more significant.

Giles watched the rain through the window, as he held the cool body to him and wondered how he had come on such a long journey. Spike listened to the human's heartbeat and wondered why he did not want to still it.

After a while, Spike shifted slightly and said, 'You 'sleep?'

Giles shook his head then added, 'All out of synch, rather. If I sleep now, I won't sleep tonight.'

Spike chuckled. 'I'm not makin' this no-sex-hiatus a lifetime vow, human. You won't be doing any sleeping tonight, believe me.'

There was no reply to this, and Spike felt Giles tense slightly. He lifted his head. 'What?'

Giles pursed his lips, still looking out at the almost hypnotic rain. 'Don't you ever have the feeling that this is not real? That if we shine the light of reality on what we are doing, it'll dissipate in that glare? Isn't that what the game was about, after all?'

'No, no, and err� no, but even if I bloody did, what's that got to do with me shagging yer balls off tonight?'

'I'm taking you to the source of my reality, Spike. I didn't think about it, really, until that damn rain started to chill me. Until then, this was unreal. But now�.'

'We are?'

At this, Giles turned his face. 'You're a vampire for God's sake, and you're a man.' He felt Spike begin to separate from him and clamped him back with a surprisingly strong grip. 'And I think I love you. So how does all that square with where we're going?'

Spike reassured him he wasn't going to pull away but sat up, keeping his hand on Giles' chest. He reached for his cigarettes and lit one and, when he had taken a few drags, propped his head on his hand looking thoughtfully at the human. 'Why does it have to square? Why can't it stay any damn shape we want?'

'What? I don't�.'

'Well, there's this reality: England, rain, your home - whatever. Then there's us: you, me, vampire, human, chips, Slayers, Sunnydale. Why try to make one fit the other? I've seen so many lifetimes, Rupert, if I tried to make 'em all compatible, I'd go crazier than you seem to think I am. Last time I was 'ere, I was shagging another hard arse. Time 'fore that, I was a bad poet, mooning after a stupid bint. I've seen Empires rise and fall, watcher, why sweat this?'

Once more, he offered Giles his cigarette and, making a slight face, Giles took it and smoked it happily, until Spike snatched it back with a look of his own. 'So?'

Giles pursed his lips thoughtfully. 'Whose arse?'

Spike chuckled and lay back down. 'Thought that'd take yer mind off yer current problems.'

'Well?'

'Who the hell do you think?'

'I think Angel, but I don't want to.'

'Angelus. BIG difference, ya know?'

'Not perhaps to me from my point of view.'

Once more, Spike sat up and, with a slightly impatient sigh, said, 'What, as 'is victim?'

'Err, no. As your lover, actually.'

Giles couldn't help a small chuckle at Spike's face. 'I'm jealous of something that happened to you before I was born.'

'Huh.' Spike's surprise turned seamlessly to pleasure, and he grinned to himself for a while as he finished off his cigarette and lit another.

Giles plucked at a loose thread on the cover and said casually, 'Do you still think of him?'

'He's my sire.' This wasn't the answer Giles wanted or expected, and he paused for a moment to ponder its relevance to his question.

'But, I mean, do you�.'

'Giles, don't go down 'ere. Like you said, 'fore you were born, yeah?'

'Quite. And he'll still be here after I'm gone.'

'Angelus won't.'

'Ah, no. I suppose not. But then you aren't exactly Spike anymore, are you? You may find you have more in common with Angel now than you did with Angelus then.'

Spike grinned. 'What we 'ad weren't based on niceties or similarities, pet. Take my word for that.'

Giles shivered slightly. 'But that still doesn't change the fact that if you met Angel now, you might� find that the past held some subtle attractions once more.'

'Are you trying to get me to admit I wanna shag Angel?'

'Yes. All right. I am. Do you?'

'Do you?'

Giles spluttered slightly. 'Me? What the hell do you mean?'

'Well, think 'bout it. Think 'bout 'im. Can't you picture 'im? All that sombre darkness, that body, those eyes. Imagine 'im lying 'ere now�.'

'Err, I'd rather not, thank you.'

'You could watch us then, see what I'm like when I'm not 'aving to� restrain.'

'Are you trying to piss me off? Because, if you are, you're succeeding. And, restrain?'

'Well, duh. Chipped, remember? Can't really go to it, can I?'

'Bloody hell. So you do want Angel.'

Spike laughed and slid back to his position on Giles' chest, wrapping the resistant arms around him. 'Just keep bein' jealous, pet. I've never 'ad anyone jealous over me 'fore, 's all.'

Giles slapped him and, when that felt incredibly good, did it again harder. Spike wriggled a little. 'Better stop that 'less you want a right shafting.'

'I rather think I'd like to save that until tonight.'

Spike heard the massive concession and rewarded the human with a cool hand just cupping his balls and playing with them enough to keep the bed interesting, but not enough to force them to do more.

'So, where we actually goin'?'

Giles frowned. 'I've told you.'

'No, you haven't; you've been all cryptic squirrel 'bout it since we left.'

'Err� shouldn't that be chipmunk or something.'

'Fucking what?'

'Well, it's secret squirrel for the alliteration, so it should be cryptic chipmunk or� chicken?'

'Are you takin' the piss?'

'We're going to Abbotsbury Giles, where I was born. Where my parents still live.'

'Cool - named after a place.'

'Err� rather the other way around actually.'

'Uh huh. So, what yer parents gonna do when you turn up after all this time?'

'Err� I phoned them, Spike, and told them I was coming. Good God, I'd hardly just turn up.'

'Oh. Told them you were coming?'

'And you.'

'Ah.'

'Just ask.'

'No, you tell me.'

'My assistant. I told them you were my assistant in the library.'

At that, Spike sat up and raised his hand as if to hit him, but stared at it in disgust, and let it fall harmlessly to his side. 'I'm not fucking pretending to be your anything.'

'So, what did you want me to tell them? That you were my vampire lover?'

'No. Course not. Not feeling all that much love right now.'

'Oh. Just right now? So�.'

'Don't push it, human.'

'Well, don't get angsty about this, Spike. You're such a bloody prima donna sometimes. It's a sensible solution to a tricky problem.'

'Why couldn't you 'ave just said you were bringing a friend?'

'What?'

'You didn't think of that, did you? No, you fucking didn't. Always come back to you thinkin' yer better than me. I'm the rent boy; I'm the bleedin' 'ssistant. Why can't I just 'ave been yer friend?'

'Look at us, Spike. Do you look like someone I would be friendly with? Friendly enough to invite to stay with my parents? Get a grip, and stop fishing for me to capitulate and baby you.'

'Fucking what?'

'Well, it's what you do. You say you want to be my equal, but you don't act like it. You manipulate and play games and act out roles and tease and tempt and� I'm getting distracted, what was I sayin'?'

'You're givin' me a bollocking.'

'Oh, right. And that's even more distracting.'

'Is that what you really think 'bout me?'

'Sometimes, yes.'

'Uh huh.' Once more, Spike lit a cigarette but, this time, did not offer it to Giles. When he'd smoked it down, he said quietly, 'It's got to be a bit of a habit, I guess. Being like me in the demon world weren't easy, and I sorta had to put it on like to survive. An' then there was Angelus, course. He sorta expected me to play the childe.'

'I don't. I do want to think of you as my equal. I do want to introduce you as a friend, but I suppose it's as much my fault as yours.'

'How d'ya work that then?'

'Well, I'm the watcher, aren't I? That's my role: the role you all see me in. I'm the mature father figure and, sometimes, that just makes me want to scream. I'm not that. Not inside. Inside, I am what I ever was, before I got called to this strange life.' He turned and looked at Spike through the smoke. 'Will you help me?'

Spike laughed. 'Help each other?'

Giles reached out and pulled him down once more. 'I'm sorry.'

'Hell, assistant is good. An' I'll be such a help, Sir, believe me.'

Giles groaned and Spike turned his head to look at him, amused. 'What?'

'Oh, I was just thinking about Buffy's rather odd new boyfriend. He called me Sir as well and, believe me, it had quite a different effect.' Spike turned his face and watched Giles fill and swell.

He chuckled. 'Oh, can't wait to get there now.'

Giles nodded. 'I agree. Strangely, I agree. I'm not dreading it at all.' He laughed at his own deceit and looked once more out of the window. 'It's stopped raining.'

'Yeah. Nearly time to go.'

'Come on. I need a shower and shave.' Giles sat up and swung his legs off the bed, fastening his trousers carefully. Spike pouted for a moment then stretched out in the empty bed.

'Give us a shout when it's time,' and, with that, he fell asleep.

Giles shook his head in wonder at this ability and made his way back to his own room.

By the time they got onto the motorway, it was dry and cold, the moon full and bright. They made good time, Giles driving fast in the outer lane, until warning lights began to flash overhead. 'Bugger.'

Spike looked up from his nails, which he was attempting to paint in the dark. 'What?'

'Accident.'

'Fuck.'

'Yeah.'

They sat in the hold up for over an hour, creeping forward in first gear, until Giles saw an exit ahead. 'Get the map out.'

'Why?'

With a deep breath of frustration, mainly at the traffic, but also at Spike's impression of something slightly deader than he actually was, he said between gritted teeth, 'I want to find another route.'

'Oh, 'k'

Giles watched Spike turn the map around in his hands, peering at it from all angles. 'And have you actually ever seen a road map before?'

Spike threw it at him. 'You bloody do it.'

'Yes, fine. I'll drive and navigate, shall I? Hey!'

Spike got out in the middle of the motorway and sauntered around to Giles' side. He opened the door and almost dragged the astonished human out. 'I'll drive.'

Giles had no option but to obey, and he tried not to look at the faces of the other drivers in the queue with them. He studied the map for a while. 'Take that exit, we can get around this.'

Spike barged the car through two lanes using his horn as if he were in some continental city. Giles, shading his face slightly, sighed with relief when they hit the empty country roads. He was torn between watching the speedometer and commenting on how fast Spike was driving, and reading the map. His nerves felt increasingly shredded and, after a while, he said, 'Pull over at the next pub. I need a drink.'

Spike grinned. 'Oh yeah, I drive so much better when I've 'ad a few.'

They pulled up at a dimly lit pub called 'The Stones', and Giles climbed out, stretching. Spike stomped off, chucking the keys over his shoulder as he went. He shoved open the door and breathed in the stale air of the pub with delight. As he was about to go toward the bar, the landlord looked up and said, 'Out. You. Out. I don't serve the likes of you in 'ere.' Spike stopped and Giles, just coming in, almost ran into him. Giles heard the barked comment and, for a moment, seemed to be debating whether the man had meant Spike's undead status or his preferences in bed. He went up to the nearly empty bar and said, 'What the hell do you mean?'

Spike joined him, amused that the watcher was defending him. The landlord curled his lip rather dramatically and nodded disdainfully at Spike. 'Travellers. Ain't welcome.'

Giles was still puzzled. 'Just travellers from America, or anyone not actually from here?'

'America?' The man's surliness seemed to dissipate somewhat at the vision of the small, green retirement fund that might be coming his way. 'You Americans?'

'From America, yes.'

'Ah, well. That 'plains the� you know.' He waved vaguely at Spike, who gave him a winning smile. The man scowled again. 'What can I do you for?'

Giles sighed. 'Couple of pints, please.' He caught hold of Spike's arm and pushed him into a corner table. 'Bloody hell.'

'Shall I do me vampire impression for 'im?'

'Shut up and behave.' He went back to collect the drinks.

The man seemed almost verging on friendly now. 'Sorry 'bout 'fore. Only, those bloody new-age dirt-bags, they come in 'ere buying bleedin' cider and smoking their bloody God-knows-what and using my facilities, which the misses has to clean after 'em - and their bloody brats and bloody dogs. I 'ate 'em!'

'Well, yes, I imagine that you would.'

'Come for the bloody stones, see?'

'Sorry?'

The man paused and spoke very slowly, as befitted those that came from America, 'Stonehenge, mate. We're on the bloody lay line to Stonehenge.'

Giles looked surprised and did a swift calculation of how much further they still had to go. He paused on the way back and just stood looking at Spike. He couldn't have said quite why he did this. Spike was not doing anything particularly noticeable or strange, he was just sitting there, smoking, and building a small tower with beer mats, but Spike was his. For the first time, Giles looked at Spike and realised that the vampire was there because of him: that they were there together, that he was buying drinks for them both, that he was taking him home. That he was there; that he was his. Spike looked up when he sensed the intense scrutiny and gave Giles a shy smile, and Giles realised that some of these thoughts had occurred to Spike as well. He thought he'd have never moved again if Spike hadn't have pouted at him and said, 'Come on, will yer; I'm bloody parched.'

Giles chuckled and sat down. 'Sorry. You must be starving.'

Spike shrugged and almost downed his pint in one.

Giles looked at his watch. 'We're not going to be there much before three at this rate.'

'Game?'

'What?'

Spike nodded at the darts' board. 'Game?'

'I'd thrash you.'

'Oh yeah? You do remember I have preternatural strength, speed, and accuracy?'

'Totally irrelevant. It's a game of skill that you can only play after years of practice.'

'Uh huh. So, you remember that I'm over a hundred and fifty, and I've been in more pubs, and played more darts, than you've had hot bloody wanks, mate.'

'Ah, yes. Quite. But I'll still beat you; it's now a matter of principle.'

Spike shed his duster, drained the rest of his pint and took up position at the board. Giles smiled, finished his, too, ordered two more, and joined him.

By the time Spike had thrashed Giles half a dozen times, Giles knew he was drunk. Everything seemed slightly more amusing, everything brighter and clearer. Spike only seemed more desirable, and Giles puzzled over how this could be, given he found him infinitely desirable all the time. He tried to explain this paradox to Spike, but Spike seemed to find this incredibly amusing and only bought him another drink. By the time they got out into the freezing night air, Giles was drunk enough to attempt driving. Spike hauled him out of the driver's seat and, taking his arm, began to drag him off down the lane. Giles stumbled in the dark and said rather incoherently, 'Wherewegoon?'

Spike chuckled. 'Where d'ya think?'

By the time the first monolith came into view as they rose up on the crest of a slight rise, Giles had sobered up enough to feel the cold. The moon's illumination made the structure glow faintly in the dark, and he hissed at the eerie sight. 'Bloody hell.'

*****