It quickly became clear to Spike that some culling of the humans had to be done and, whilst he secretly enjoyed imagining doing this for real, he contented himself with suggesting that Fred thin out to Gunn's until the funeral. She was utterly incapable of hiding a single emotion, and he despaired of her maintaining the fiction for even one night. Connor also went with them, so that only left the demon, him and Cordelia. Cordelia agreed to stay away from work for a day or two, so that left the hotel occupied only by demons. Spike eyed Lorne out of the corner of one eye.

'I'm staying right where I am, honey. No one reads me. Your secret's safe.'

Spike didn't look convinced, and Lorne only laughed. 'You're the one Angelpie's gonna be blocking his ears to; you've got "sneaky plan" flashing like a neon sign on your forehead.'

Spike needn't have bothered worrying. Angel did not return to the hotel that day, that night, or the next day. The others gathered in the lobby for the journey to the cemetery. Angel had still not made an appearance. Spike thought it best not to mention Lorne's suggestion that Angel might be off topping himself in some guilt-ridden orgy of self-destruction. He was glad he hadn't, for Angel appeared suddenly from the basement. He glanced at the assembled humans in their sombre clothes and paused on his way up the stairs. Lorne stepped forward.

'Funeral, sweetiepie. You coming? It's the least . ya know?'

Angel tipped his head back slightly and looked from one to the other, his gaze resting longest on Spike who was having trouble with his lighter and was bending over try to light it, his hands shielding his face as if in a strong wind. Angel nodded faintly and trailed out after them.

Gunn, Cordelia, Fred and Connor travelled in the car they had booked. Lorne and Spike were left going with Angel. Spike immediately jumped into the back seat and Lorne, after glancing at Angel's face, climbed in next to him, smoothing out a slight rumple this manoeuvre created in his suit.

'My, don't we all look just fabulous in black. but what am I saying? You always look good in it, sugar.'

Spike shook his head fractionally to shut him up, but Lorne completely ignored him and carried on a particularly inane conversation with himself all the way, as if deliberately attempting to annoy both vampires.

The service started. They stood alongside the grave. Angel stood a little to one side, his head bowed, his hands folded together, silent, reserved.

A short reading, some prayers, and Spike began to look around anxiously. He was supposed to be here by now. Some more prayers, some mumbling, which he took to be prayers as well, and where the bloody hell was he? He felt the other's eyes on him and resolutely kept his eyes cast down to the coffin. The coffin got lowered, and he was beginning to panic. Timing in his plans was important, and this was going badly wrong. Throwing on of the earth began. Angel came forward, knelt and took a handful of the soft brown, dusty earth. He stood alongside the open grave, staring down at the wooden box. Spike glanced up at him through his lowered lids and caught a small sob-like sound. Angel threw the soil and turned away as if too moved to have people see his grief. His shoulders shook slightly, but he regained self-control and took his place behind the others waiting for them each to pay their respects.

Panic had begun to set in. Spike could feel it. No one wanted to throw soil. Everyone wanted tearful reunions and a happy ending. Spike actually looked around the dark cemetery, trying with his enhanced vision to pluck Wesley out of the darkness. Another small sob-like noise from Angel was the only sound heard in that silent place.

The service finished. They trailed back to the hotel. Nothing else had been done or planned, as there wasn't supposed to be a wake. They stood in the lobby, shuffling their feet and waiting for Angel to go so they could vent their fury on Spike. Angel didn't go, but he did repeat the small sob he had made once or twice that night.

This time at the sound - without the distraction of waiting for Wesley to appear - Spike looked up sharply. When the sound came again, he took a step back. Everyone turned to look at him. He was pale, even for him, and for some reason was easing out of his duster and hedging towards the open door.

One more sob and, bizarrely, Spike made a dash for the door, saw his way blocked by Angel, looked frantically around and flew up the stairs, shouting something that sounded like 'Help,' but that was lost to the screech that came out of Angel, as he took up pursuit of the disappearing vampire.

It had all happened so quickly, no one had time to take it in. Gunn started to go after Angel, but Lorne put a hand on his arm and shook his head. 'Let's just say there's about to be some fur an' feathers flying, hon, an' you surely don't want to be there to see that.'

Spike swore under his breath as he crouched in one of the disused lift-shafts. The bastard had known. Fucking sobbing? The git had been laughing! He tipped his head on one side trying to hear any pursuit and, when it was silent, crawled out of the gap between the lift and the doors. Fuck knows where he was: one corridor in this hideous place looked like any other. He set off cautiously, convinced he'd hear Angel if he were anywhere near. The place was very, very dark and very, very. he shook himself slightly, wishing he'd not watched "The Shining" quite so many times.

He'd begun to relax fractionally but turned a corner and found Angel lounging up against the wall, one leg bent up, a baseball bat dangling from one hand.

Spike froze. Nowhere to run really. Angel turned to look at him. Spike held his gaze. 'Is he dead?'

Angel did not reply, but he licked his lips slightly as if remembering something particularly tasty. Spike pursed his lips, considering his options. 'We don't have to do this, Angel.'

'I do,' and with that Angel launched himself off the wall and the bat connected with Spike's arm, shattering his elbow. Spike howled in pain, but wrenched the bat from Angel as the vibrations loosened it from his grip slightly. He took it in his good arm and swung it at Angel's head. Angel went down hard and unconscious for a brief moment. It was all Spike needed, he hit him again, raised the bat for a third swing, but his ankle was seized in an iron grip. He wrenched free and ran. He found some stairs and took them two at a time; his broken arm screamed at him, but he ignored it and tried to orientate himself to the maze of corridors and rooms. Another staircase. He heard a bellow behind him and the sound of something being broken. He took a firmer hold on the bat and descended some more.

A set of double doors appeared in front of him, and he flung through them and found himself in a huge, dark, abandoned kitchen. He cursed and turned to find a better escape when a dark figure appeared in silhouette behind the doors. He'd seen "Jurassic Park" lots of times, too; he skittered away behind one of the long metal counters and hunkered down out of sight. He knew Angel knew he was in there, but he only needed one more good shot, and he might be able to knock the fucker out for long enough to make a more permanent escape.

Angel came in through the swing doors and stood just to one side, listening. He advanced. Almost close enough. Another step. Spike shot up and swung the bat. Angel ducked and caught Spike on the side of his head with a broken table leg. Spike felt blood pouring down his cheek and slithered away over another counter and dived through another door. He stopped. Fuck. He'd come into an old cold store. No way out. Not now anyway: Angel had come in after him and shut the door.

They had an area about the size of a bedroom. They made good use of every inch: almost every inch got splattered by vampire blood. The floor ran with their blood, as it poured off them. Blow after blow made with the weapons they held, dropped and wrenched from each other. No one heard the screams of pain; no one heard the cursing or the taunting. Once more, Angel began to fail first, but Spike was unlucky; at one particularly hard blow to his head, he thought he felt his chip move slightly and was utterly panicked by the idea of it shifting through his brain. He faltered for a second, put a blood soaked hand up to the bloody pulp of a face - and Angel saw his opportunity. He flung himself on Spike and pinned him down by force of his superior weight. Spike was trapped, and he knew it. Face to face, they lay still; Angel's blood and sweat dripped onto Spike.

Angel's voice was ragged, harsh after the shouting and screaming. 'Give it up now, Spike; your plan's failed.'

Inches between them, Angel's blood flowing over him, Spike grinned. He slid a hand between them and cupped Angel. 'Oh yeah?'

Angel hissed and rolled off onto his back alongside Spike. He did not comment on Spike's hand still cupping him. He just put a hand down to join him. Hard. He was achingly hard. His penis strained to be free. so he freed it. His balls throbbed in their confinement. He swore, and ripped his pants off entirely, kneeling up, his head tipped back, eyes closed, lost to the urgency of needing to cum. Spike took his hand away and watched Angel jerking widely on his erection. Angel began to pant slightly and moan as he felt his orgasm cresting. He bent over with one hand braced on the bloodied floor and shot a powerful bullet of cum down to mix with the swirling red. Over and over again, sperm shot from Angel's penis. He emptied himself and collapsed heedless into the puddle on the floor when he was done.

He rolled onto his back and propped himself up on an elbow, looking down disbelievingly: still hard. He looked at Spike. Spike grinned and fell on him, his mouth returning to that penis as if one hundred years had not passed. Covered in blood and spent cum from the floor, Angel tasted like Spike's unlife: all the hunting, all the feeding, all the torturing, all the sex and all the endless flowing of the blood. all here on this thick column. Spike groaned as he sucked, and the groaning brought on another swift release from Angel. He grasped Spike's head and forced him lower; he shouted out his name as he came just as powerfully as the first time, but for longer now, encased in the soft temptation of Spike's mouth.

Spike didn't pull away when he had drunk all he could of Angel's sperm: he started to clean him. He licked around his cock, over his balls, teasing through the soft wiry hair with his tongue. Another swell, another groan from Angel, and he pushed Spike back onto his shaft, as a weaker orgasm rose in him and jetted out into Spike's mouth.

Exhausted, shuddering slightly, Angel pulled Spike up onto his shoulder and held him close for a long while.

Broken bones began to heal, wounds stopped bleeding. Angel's whole body hurt with a dull agony that felt. exquisite. He wanted more, so relished the pain that he felt himself swelling once again. He took Spike's hand in his and worked himself with both, using Spike's hand to play and fondle with his balls as he concentrated on the tip of his foreskin that he liked to pinch and tease. Another orgasm - almost painful this time, as he had so little sperm left to lose. He let his cock drop from his hand and brought the small quantity of cum up to Spike, rubbing it in his face and around his hair, marking him.

He nuzzled into the scent, nibbling and preparing Spike for the penetration, and to Spike's blissful, whispered 'Yes,' Angel pierced Spike's pale skin and began to drink him in greedy swallows of childe blood. Spike stretched out to the feeding, to the claiming, to the love. He travelled with his blood to Angel and played around in that body for a while, reacquainting himself with his sire's demon. This time, Angel did not drain him dry; he fed deeply but only for a short time, and then pulled away and loomed over Spike, as he lay languid, peaceful, and in pain on the floor.

Angel took Spike's face in both of his battered hands and tried to speak but found it too difficult to say what he wanted to. The blood and sweat had stopped dripping, but now Spike felt cool drops that smelt of salt and grief dropping onto him. He pulled Angel down onto his chest and held him tightly. He had sensed that Angel had not cried much over Connor's loss and feared the power of the grief washing over him now. but Angel didn't let his grief overwhelm him. He pulled away and regained his self-control, lying beside Spike, staring up at the featureless ceiling.

Spike broke the silence first by repeating his soft question. 'Is he dead?'

Angel turned to look at him.

Spike nodded as if this answered him. 'How did you know?'

Angel smiled, and it was the first genuine smile of amusement that night. 'I'm supposed to be a private investigator, Spike.'

'Oh.'

Angel shook his head in disbelief. 'Did you not think I might go there?'

'Duh, I'm not that stupid; that's why he left.'

'He'd cleaned the place, and there were flowers, Spike.'

'What! Fucking poof.'

'Hardly the actions of a man about to hang himself from the freshly washed sheets off his newly made bed. Oh, and he used a credit card to book the hotel, Spike. duh again?'

'Fuck. So. you went there, too?'

'Yes.'

'You did see him?'

Angel sighed. 'Yes, I did.'

'Is he dead, Angel? Will you just tell me.'

'He would have been, Spike, but.'

'But what?'

'But... the room was full of stubbed out cigarettes. Yours.'

'Ah. So.?'

Angel propped himself up on one elbow and began to unbutton Spike's shirt. He made no comment on his actions, just continued a slow inexorable removing of Spike's clothes. He looked up and caught Spike's eyes in his powerful gaze. 'I knew if I killed him, I'd lose you.'

Spike blinked slowly, pleased, and smiled shyly back at Angel. 'And that would be a bad thing?'

Angel laughed and bent his tongue to Spike's exposed belly. He trailed the cool tip across Spike's ridged muscles and poked it into his belly button a little, casting him seductive looks through lowered lids. 'I think it would be, yes.'

Spike hissed at the simple eroticism of Angel's actions, his hole throbbing slightly in anticipation of where they would lead. He sat up and leant back on braced arms to watch as Angel worked on his jeans, undoing them and pulling them off when he had freed them from his boots. Naked now, Spike removed Angel's shirt.

Angel began to play with Spike's body, exploring him, turning him around, examining him like a cat with a live mouse it was too full to bother killing. Spike melted to Angel's hands, allowing every opening and probing, every close inspection until his sire was totally satisfied that nothing had changed; all was as it had been when it had been given.

Finally, Spike had to ask: Angel had not volunteered the information. 'You know, don't you?'

'Your smell was so strong on him, it would have hurt me to hurt him.' Angel spoke but did not look up from Spike's body.

'So?'

'What would you do, Spike, if I made you choose?'

Spike hesitated. 'Choose, I guess.'

Angel looked up briefly and grinned. 'Good answer. Okay, then, let's cut to the chase. Who would you choose?' Although Angel's voice was steady, and his face showed nothing but suppressed amusement, Spike knew his sire better than that. He didn't bother with words as a reply; he pulled Angel up to his face and placed a kiss, soft and submissive, on his lips. He cast an amused smile up at Angel's pleased face, and then reared up, pushed Angel onto his back and began to ravish his lips and plunder his mouth in possessive kisses. Angel laughed and pushed him away, returning to his slow, detailed worshiping of his childe's body. Spike folded his arms under his head and relaxed to the adoration. He let Angel explore and play for a while, but then returned to his question.

'So?'

Angel smiled. `Could I make you choose? I can't remember a time when you've ever done anything I've asked, ordered, begged or tried to trick you into doing.'

Spike pouted. `A bit harsh, mate. Hypothetically then, if you didn't make me choose?'

'What do you think, Spike? Do you really think I'm going to let you fuck Wesley on the side?'

'Uh huh.'

Angel stopped and sat up alongside Spike. 'Is that all. Uh huh?'

'Angel, are you going to give Connor up?'

'What? What do you mean, Spike. Connor is my son, I can't. won't ever give him up. again.'

'So... uh huh. And I'm supposed to do what - while you spend hours every day with him, do things with him, spend most of your time with him. Shall I take up fucking knitting or something.?'

Angel didn't reply at first. He was staring thoughtfully at his childe. Eventually, he said neutrally, 'I hadn't thought of it like that.'

'No, I know you hadn't.' Spike sat up and patted his pockets until he found his cigarettes, lit two and passed one to Angel. Angel took it absentmindedly, and smoked it from force of long-forbidden habit. They sat crossed legged across from each other, smoking contentedly until Spike suddenly poked Angel in the belly.

'Hey!'

'Angel. just fucking say yes. You should try it, mate; he's so bloody warm and. floppy.' Angel laughed and Spike poked him again. 'Not like that; I mean, jees. like a bag of blood. ya know, when it's warm from the microwave. you know how it sits in yer hand, and you can cup it and rub it 'gainst yer face. he's like that.' Spike caught Angel's amused expression. 'And I ain't gonna explain it any more. I just want him, Angel. He'll give me something to do when you're off with the lad.'

'I can't see Wesley agreeing to being your puppy-in-a-pocket.'

Spike knew he'd won.

He tried to keep a gleeful expression of triumph and anticipation off his face, but without success. 'Wesley ain't gonna know, is he?'

Angel gave him a fond squint through the smoke and moved a hand to stroke the slim thigh.

'Wise. You know I won't tolerate him coming back here.'

'Never thought you would.'

'The others seem to think that's what it was all about.'

'What'd' they know, pet? They're just humans.'

'True. Connor.'

'He's a brick, that one, luv. He'd do anything for you.' Angel looked down shyly, as Spike continued. ' All he wanted was for you to be a bit happier, mate. Stop angsting over 'im. He's okay - lies like a trooper.'

Angel tipped back his head as if seeking for strength. 'So, Wesley stays away from here.'

Spike nodded. 'In more ways than one, pet, promise.'

'When I want you, you'll be here?'

Spike hesitated. 'When I want you, will you be here?' Angel looked at him sharply but then nodded as if understanding the true import of Spike's question. 'I'm sorry. You're not my property any more, Spike. I can't have it both ways, can I? Human child and vampire childe.'

Spike shook his head slowly. 'No. You can't.' He lit another cigarette from the stub of his previous one and took a long drag. 'You can have me as just. vampire.' He looked around at the blood and flecks of skin on the walls and floor. `You can have me as just this... vampire.'

'When you fit me in between Wesley's. floppier turns.'

Spike laughed. 'He wasn't the only one floppy when I got here, Angel. Don't forget that.' He cast his eyes down to Angel's lap provocatively, then up again to his face. He flicked up one eyebrow. 'Why don't you take that for a proper test drive, Angel, and we'll work me shag-timetable out later.'

They threw away their cigarettes simultaneously. Their mouths met and tasted of nicotine and sex. Angel pushed Spike onto his back and slid a hand up the underside of his thigh, lifting it as he stroked. He bent to Spike's hole and licked it in preparation, pushing his tongue in, wetting all around the edges. He pulled away for a moment and looked around their concrete room. 'Do you want to take this upstairs?' Spike shook his head and pushed Angel's face back.

There was no desire in either of them for foreplay; there was no mystery; there was nothing to discover. They had known this pleasure a hundred thousand times, and the memories were acute for each of them. Angel knew exactly when Spike felt pain from his penetration, for the pale column of his childe's shaft rose and betrayed him. He knew when he had found Spike's prostate, for he could sense a slight clenching of the anus holding him tight.

Spike watched Angel's face. The eyes flickered shut and opened slowly, as the pleasure of mounting his childe started to overwhelm him. He saw the clenching of the jaw, which he knew would soon lead to a cool washing of his bowels and the beloved sound of Angel cuming in him. Angel put one hand on Spike's belly in exactly the same place he always put it when he was about to cum. and came. a strong flooding wash and rapid jerking inside the familiar body.

Spike jettisoned his load onto his belly, relishing the spasmodic jerking of his cock and the satisfied grunts from Angel as some of the sperm hit him. He was even more delighted when Angel bent his face to the fresh pool and began to lap at it, for he knew what would surely follow. Fangs went deep into his belly and fed from his stomach and chest - Angelus attempting to find his heart to rip and tear. The agony made him scream and harden once more, and Angel clamped a strong hand over Spike's mouth so his childe could bite into his palm and make him rise again, too. Angel's penis swelled deep inside Spike's anus, as his tendon was sliced by powerful fangs and another orgasm washed out and into the slim pale body writhing beneath him.

Angel licked and nuzzled into the wound he had made on Spike's belly, now the only fresh one on his battered body. He rubbed his shredded hand over Spike's face, absentmindedly, as he licked and probed with his tongue. Spike turned his face and purred to the marking and the claiming and the scenting, and groaned when Angel withdrew to fall alongside him in the dark.

After a long while, Spike heard Angel's voice, thoughtful and quiet in the still air. 'It's what this was all about, wasn't it, Spike. Blood and pain.'

Spike propped himself up on his elbow and played idly with Angel's now flaccid cock. 'Did you want to stay like this forever, mate? Jees Angel. flaccid. It scared me. But it was so bloody obvious what you needed.' He turned Angel's face to him and spoke very slowly and very clearly as if to someone slightly mentally impaired. 'You - are - a - vampire. You - get - off - on - pain.' He sank back, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. 'You actually told me you held a baby's soddin' hair to yer face, luv. I mean. come on.'

Angel rolled over onto his belly, not liking the way this conversation was going. 'You wouldn't understand, Spike. You don't have a soul; you've never been a father.'

'True and true. But I know you, Angel. You're in me, luv - you made me. Soul or no soul, you can't be human. You can't deny the dark side, Angel.'

'Don't romanticise it, Spike. This is not an episode of some damn epic space war. There is nothing good or noble about being a demon.'

'Ooh. Don't tell me you've actually heard of the electric theatre, Angel.'

'Shut up, Spike. I've been trying to get up-to-date. stuff Connor might like.'

'Yeah, well. Don't make no difference what you say, Angel; what you do kind of proves my point, don't it? One smack with that old baseball bat and your balls were rocking 'round the clock, weren't they. oh, and that's a modern tune, pet.'

'Fuck off, Spike.' Spike might have been more offended by this if he hadn't have heard the underlying amusement in Angel's tone. He crept a hand over to Angel's resistant back and began an irritating tickling down one side.

'Stop that.'

''Fraid I'm gonna find some fatty bits?'

Angel flipped over and pinned Spike on his back, rearing over him furiously. He saw Spike's face and dropped his head onto his chest. 'You do it every time, don't you, Spike? You push my buttons like I'm your own personal keypad.'

'Yeah, an' it works every time, too, luv.' As if to prove his point he cupped Angel's hanging balls lightly in one hand and began a soft working of them. Angel hissed, and then bent lower to Spike's ear.

'Hurt me again.'

Spike hissed in response and, sliding into game face once more, wrenched the soft sac hard, and then ground it up into Angel's pelvis. Angel screamed at the glorious pain and ripped into Spike's neck, tearing at his ear.

They fought as if to the death - snarling, naked demons whose pale bodies glowed faintly in the ambient light. They only stopped when Angel came once more into Spike's torn body and even the effort of pulling out was too much. They slept curled together, embedded, sated, and in a kind of pain that sent them into fearful, but longed-for dreams.

Angel woke first, stuck to Spike. The peeling off woke Spike.

Angel sat with his head lowered into his hands. Spike rummaged for their clothes and threw Angel his.

'What's happened here? What happens now?'

Spike pulled Angel to his feet and started to dress him. 'We've got back to where we should be, that's all, Angel.' Angel stilled Spike's hands on him and took his face between his hands.

'This is what you want? This is how it's going to be now? You go and see Wesley; I stay here with Connor, and when you come back... we do this?'

Spike didn't catch Angel's eye, but continued doing up Angel's shirt for him, as if engrossed in this simple act. 'It's called fucking, Angel. And yeah, that's exactly it. we don't have to do it in here though. bit too cell-like.'

Angel shuddered. 'No. But this is it then. Vampires.'

'Yep.' He finally looked up. 'What else did you expect?'

Angel didn't reply, but turned towards the door, casting a final, shuddering glance around the tiny locker. 'I'm going to shower.'

Following him out, Spike shrugged his shoulders. ''K. I'm going to Wesley's.'

It was said. It tested the waters. The dam held. Angel merely shrugged slightly, too, and went up the stairs.

Spike pursed his lips; he kicked at something with the toe of his boot; he lit a cigarette but threw it away unsmoked. He looked in the direction Angel had gone, clenched his jaw, looked once more at the floor, then spun on his heel and went out to see whether it was day or night.

*****
Part 8:

Wesley answered the door slowly. He had his glasses propped up on his head and a large, heavy book in his hand. When he saw Spike, his jaw fell open, and the book slipped to the floor. 'Bloody hell, what were you doing playing on the railway line, Spike?'

Spike's hand flew to his face. 'Oh, that bad, hey?'

'God.' Wesley pulled him inside and placed him on the couch, then fetched a bowl of hot water and a cloth, and began cleaning the wounds covering Spike's face.

'He came to the hotel.'

'I know, pet.'

Wesley held Spike's face still. 'He did this?'

Spike put a hand on Wesley's arm. 'It's not what you think, luv. He did but.'

'He knew about your ridiculous plan, Spike. It was all a complete failure.'

Spike grinned and placed a swift peck on Wesley's lips. 'I wouldn't say that, luv.'

Concentrating on the bruises and cuts, Wesley did not look up. 'He won't have me back, Spike, and he didn't want to hear my explanation. I'd call that a total failure, wouldn't you?'

'That's not what the plan was for, pet. That's the next stage. Hey! Don't do that, that hurt!'

'No! No, no, no. I am not going to get involved in another of your plans. and what do you mean, that's not what it was for? That was the whole point wasn't it. to get me back to Angel Investigations?'

'Nah, Angel had a little problem that needed to be taken care of.' Spike indicated his face and the general state of his body. 'Problem now solved. Now we move onto stage two.'

Wesley shook his head and went to refill the water bowl, but Spike, shedding his coat, followed him into the kitchen. 'It's nice to be tended to an' all, luv, but there's not much wrong now. so. how's about we take this to the bedroom?'

Wesley turned with a slightly furtive look and glanced at the clock. 'I'm sorry, Spike; I didn't think you'd be over so soon after. well, I thought you'd have more issues with. I've got Cordelia, Gunn and Fred coming over at eight.' He saw Spike's expression and smiled shyly. 'I suppose your plan did work to some extent. All the rest of Angel Investigations seem to have forgiven me, and if the mountain can't come to the Mohamed.'

'Bloody, fucking, sodding, shitting, cunting NO!! I've just been fucked four ways to hell and back for you, and you don't want to shag? You've got a bleedin' dinner party?'

'Spike, calm down. It's not a party. They are coming over for research. that's why I was. never mind; I can see you aren't in a mood to be reasonable. and you can't hit me with that, remember. your chip. ouch.'

'.Spike?'

'.Spike, are you all right?'

Wesley stood helplessly as Spike held his head, kneeling on the floor. Eventually he stood and cast Wesley an evil look. 'You owe me a shag.'

Wesley winced, but absurdly felt the debt. He walked stiffly past Spike to the bedroom, not seeing the amused smirk that followed his progress. Spike had just found a new use for the human's habitual guilt. He caught up with Wesley and pushed him against the bed, nuzzling into his neck. He slid his voice down to his most seductive - his chip made it impossible to shag the totally unwilling, 'Come on, Wes, we've got half an hour. I'll make you cum real fast. an' we can shower together. I need a shower and I want some more doctoring. what'da'ya say? Wanna play doctors in the shower with me?'

Spike knew that Wesley glanced once more at his watch before he groaned an agonised 'Yes,' but he forgave him and swiftly capitalised on his conquest by slipping a hand around and down the front of Wesley's jeans. Wesley sucked in his belly in response, and Spike connected easily with the tip of his cock. He grinned and, flicking one eyebrow up, eased the waistband down just enough to let the cock stick up, exposed. He murmured an appreciative noise over Wesley's shoulder at the sight.

He was briefly annoyed when Wesley batted him away and modestly covered himself with one hand, but let the incident go when the human turned to face him, saying almost angrily, 'Come on then, but it's got to be quick.'

Spike turned Wesley around again. 'Spread.' He kicked Wesley's legs apart and made him hold onto the edge of the mattress. Slowly, he reached around and undid Wesley's fly the rest of the way, peeling the jeans off Wesley backside and down as far as his knees. Wesley began a feeble protest, but Spike ignored him. He knelt behind the offered backside and began to lubricate it with his tongue. The warmth of the body surprised him as ever. He pressed with one finger inside the anus, but Wesley winced in pain: Spike collapsed once more in agony on the floor.

Wesley waited for Spike to recover, glancing nervously at the clock. God help him; he did want Spike. despair at his confrontation with Angel plummeting him back to the edges of the black mood that had drawn him to sex with the vampire in the first place. He did want Spike. just not now and not in this way. Maybe in a warm bed when he had showered first. maybe if Spike could be more normal. maybe if they could be a little more decorous in their activities. maybe if they had more in common. just maybe. He could think of nothing else but that they were coming: the friends he thought he had lost. Spike, he could have anytime, but this was Fred. this was Cordelia. this was Gunn.

He decided to speed things up a little and get it over with, so took his jeans off completely. He sat on the edge of the bed, learning some new and interesting turns of phrase from the prone vampire. Eventually, Spike's chip stopped firing off, and he crawled onto the bed alongside Wesley, peeling off his clothes, too. He eyed the human warily; it had not escaped his notice that Wesley seemed less prepared, less emotionally numb, somehow, to cope with what he wanted to do to him.

Wesley's distraction with the clock and yearning for respectable sex, however, vanished rather when he saw Spike's body once more. A flare of desire made him feel hot and almost weak inside. His penis, which had swelled just to Spike's presence, now began to twitch for release. but he could still muster none of the black urgency that had driven him to seek release in pain or humiliation. He wanted to cum, and he wanted to cum pleasantly, quickly, and with a minimum of fuss and mess. He took Spike's hand and encouraged it onto his cock. Spike removed it, and with a harsh laugh said, 'Turn over; I need to take you.'

Wesley shook his head. 'There's no time. Just hold me as I.' A squirt of warm cum plopped onto Spike's hand and dribbled over his wrist. Wesley gave a satisfied sigh and was about to reach for Spike when a loud knocking, accompanied by a familiar voice, made him turn swiftly. 'Oh. bloody hell! They're early.' He jumped off the bed and pulled on his jeans, straightening his hair. He gave Spike a nervous glance. 'You'll have to stay in here. They won't be long; I promise.'

Spike didn't reply. He let his expression speak for him. Wesley had the grace to look guilty, but left, shutting the door firmly.

Spike stayed kneeling on the bed with his cum covered hand stretched out theatrically. He replayed the whole scene in his head a few times, laughing in disbelief every time he got to the part where Wesley had cum on him and left. He debated marching naked into the living room and just checking with Wesley that that had actually happened, but didn't. He had the distinct and scary thought that if he pushed this human too far, too soon, Wesley might tell him he was only using him and call him William.

After he'd played the martyr for the while, he flung himself down on the bed and decided to wait the humans out. After all, how long could they stay? . and he needed a small snooze. He wrapped himself up in the silk sheets and began a necessary pre-snooze review of his plan. Angel was cured - huge success there. Wesley was on his way back in - annoying laughter from next door confirmed that. That only left the kid. Spike's plan was still a bit vague where Connor was concerned, so he skipped that part and went back to Angel. He liked thinking about Angel. He particularly liked thinking about Angel whispering his name. hang on. screaming his name - that was better. He liked the image in his mind of Angel spread like a blanket over him. whoa there. Angel spreading him like a victim against a wall. Jesus, he was more tired than he thought and packed Angel-thoughts away until he felt strong enough to corral and control them.

The human voices still floated out from the living room. There was only one thing left to do really. so he did it. He took his erection in his hand and began to play thoughtfully with the foreskin. He was slightly sore, and remembered with a smile Angel's teeth assisting one particularly enjoyable orgasm. Bugger. Angel again. Dismissing all thoughts of. him. Spike took a firmer hold on his root and began to pull in long, measured, and practised-over-centuries strokes. That was good, almost as good as . not even going to go there. He was close to coming. He came. It was good. but he felt strangely desolate, and his body ached for strong arms, twisting and entwining, and soft endearments borne of shared blood.

When he awoke, Wesley was curled alongside him. He looked rumpled in the early morning light and very edible, so Spike tasted him for a while in his memory. He grinned and slipped under the sheet, taking a very warm, very soft penis in his mouth. He sucked on it like a piece of candy, giggling to himself at the feel of it rising in his mouth. Wesley groaned and came before he had really woken properly or sensed where he was.

He pulled away from Spike and sat up, rubbing his face. 'Sorry, they didn't go until three. It was so late, I didn't wake you.'

Spike shrugged and crawled up Wesley for a kiss. Wesley smiled and tried to relax into the strangeness of waking with Spike when his head was full of the agency and his friends' lives once more. Suddenly he pushed Spike away as a thought occurred to him. 'Spike. they think you may be dead. deader. no one's seen you since the funeral and something about Angel chasing you.'

Spike swung his legs off the bed and reached for his jeans, patting his pockets for his cigarettes. Had it just happened again? Had Wesley just pulled away from one of his kisses?

Eventually he made a mumbled comment about having to get back, waiting to see what Wesley would say.

Wesley hesitated so long that when he did persuade Spike to stay, he could not have rightly said whether the persuasion was from guilt at the hesitation or genuine desire for Spike's body.

Spike ignored the fact he was being used - he'd had recent practice at ignoring this - and stayed for some recreational sex with his new pet.

Puppy-in-pocket, however, needed very careful handling. He suddenly seemed extremely... fragile. Spike wondered if he was merely finding contrast with someone. and he wasn't going to go there. He used as much lubrication as he could find; he entered agonisingly slowly; he tried not to push or heave; he took it like he was fucking a virgin on her first date and as if he actually cared about that. It worked in a fashion. He came - but he did not find a sweet release in the cold jetting into Wesley's body. Wesley came, too, but his orgasm seemed to satisfy him, for he lay panting slightly in the bed. Spike curled into him, wanting to entwine his limbs and be enmeshed in the other body, but Wesley pulled away and glanced once more at the clock. 'Sorry. Again. We're working today. I promised to meet Gunn. I. I. I have you to thank for this, Spike. I know I'll never truly be back where I was. I know Angel will never see me. despite any complex and cunning plans of yours, Spike. but I have the others back, and that almost seems enough this morning. It's so much more than I could have hoped for really.' He got out of the bed and pottered around the bedroom, talking at Spike and gathering stuff for a shower.

Spike sat, watching him with a look of bemused tolerance on his face. He'd decided to give Wesley the benefit of the doubt. it was his first day reclaimed. he was clearly over-excited. he'd calm down eventually. hell, he might even regain some of that sexy, black angst.

Spike was nothing, if not patient.

Wesley wandered off to the shower, apparently forgetting the vampire sitting naked in his bed.

The patient vampire flung himself into his clothes and left, hurling a torrent of abuse at the human in the shower.

Spike stomped through the now familiar sewer, kicking at things and hoping something might try to stop him. He felt like a good killing. Angelus had always. fucking hell! He'd done it again. Why did he always have to refer everything back to Angelus? Must remember to tell Angelus this. must let Angelus know that. Angelus will like that.

Suddenly, Spike grinned and stopped. He pursed his lips and looked thoughtfully at the filthy floor.

He sped up and ran the last few miles to the hotel. He flung himself up through the basement and into Angel's room. He laughed as he caught Angel still in bed and dived onto him. Angel woke with a grunt. but ripped at Spike as if he had not had him for over a century.

Angel could not wait to get Spike's clothes off; he just tore them from the pale body. He didn't lubricate, he thrust in dry and stifled Spike's screams with his hand. Spike bit once more and Angel had to suppress his howl of pain. and the orgasms were glorious. Spike shuddered his forever into the midnight blue sheets, the milky, opaque liquid pooling like early morning haze. Angel jetted his into the blood of his childe for it to be carried up the tight channel with his thrusting.

They laughed, as they pulled apart. Spike collapsed onto the bed and went to pull Angel down on top of him, but at the last moment diverted the action so it appeared that he had just been making himself more comfortable. Angel, about to snuggle into his childe, turned slightly and lay apart from him. 'Vampires, Spike?'

'That's right, mate, vampires. See? Told you this would be good.'

'You come, you see, you fuck.'

'Is that from another electric theatre presentation, mate? I don't recognise that.'

Angel laughed faintly. 'So, you've come from .'

'Yeah.'

'Ah.'

'You had a good evening with Connor?'

'Yes, I took him to a movie.'

'Oh.'

'Good?'

'No. Hideous. So, are we allowed to be... talking like this. just vampires as we are.'

'No, guess not. I've gotta shower anyway and get some food. Humans ain't too good at feeding vampire guests.'

'Unless they're.' Angel looked at Spike and his amber eyes sparked behind their covering of soulful brown. Spike groaned.

'Oh, yeah, unless. they're. fuck. hanging up.' he bit into Angel's lip, and Angel moaned at the taste of his own blood. '. and their blood's draining.' he straddled Angel's chest and wriggled and rubbed himself on the new erection. '. you slit their throats, Angelus, and caught the pouring out in your mouth.' Angel swelled so hard at the memory that Spike was able to embed deeply, and he closed his eyes to the pleasure of the fullness in him. '. hurt me, Angel, give me pain now, please.' Spike gasped as Angel put a hand to his throat and began to squeeze, livid marks blossoming on the pale column. When the pain became unbearable, Spike's agonised writhing brought them both off. The ache propelled his cum forcibly into Angel's face; Angel's shot high in Spike's body and tingled its cold presence for many minutes, as it washed around and dribbled back down.

Angel's hand was cramped around Spike's throat. He had to prize it free with his other hand. He'd crushed the windpipe, and Spike was unable to speak more than a croaked whisper. He grinned and wriggled some more, enjoying the pulling-off-Angel's-cock sensation that always excited him and made him ache for more.

The space alongside Angel looked so inviting, and he felt so weary: he wanted nothing more than to slide into that deep blue pool and soak himself in his sire's presence. Angel glanced at the space too, but looked sadly away.

Spike nodded and climbed off. He tried to speak, could not get the words out, and so left for his own room.

Within two days, Spike knew he had made a huge miscalculation with this plan.

The realisation first hit him the following day when his early morning wake up call on Angel was reciprocated by his sire. He woke to the feel of Angel's cool, heavy, sleek, perfect, so-desired, so-fuckable body sliding over him, giggling slightly. He pretended to be asleep - he let Angel work harder to wake him. When a finger slipped in, even he could not keep up the act, and he laughed softly into Angel's neck. `Morning.'

Angel purred against his mouth. `Good morning.' He was smiling and his face was open, the longing desire evident in every feature. Suddenly Spike stilled and removed the finger.

`You're already hard.'

Angel nuzzled into Spike's neck, licking up towards his ear and biting gently on his earlobe. `I've been lying in bed for ages thinking about coming up here.'

Spike felt a tingle of desire course down his spine, but he tried not to show this in his response to Angel. `But this is just vampires, remember.'

Angel pulled away and looked at him. `Oh. I forgot. So...?'

`Well, I don't know! Do something vampire like.'

`You mean hit you or something?'

`Duh. Yes. Pain and blood, remember - that's all this is.'

Angel helpfully punched Spike. `Ouch - bloody hell - watch the nose, Angel. You didn't have to hit me on me bleedin' - hey I'm bleeding!'

Angel licked at the blood on Spike's face and slipped into game face. Spike reciprocated and Angel took him hard and fast and came in a salvo of cum deep in his body. He pulled out, went back into his human form and sat on the edge of the bed, adjusting his clothing.

Spike sat up against the headboard, shaking slightly from the force of Angel's penetration. He looked at the bent back and lowered head for a moment, returned to human form and asked quietly, `What else was there? What did we use to do now?'

Angel turned to him, frowning. `I don't remember. Hunt?'

`Yeah, maybe.'

`I can't do that now.'

`Neither can I.'

`So, I suppose I'll see you later then.' He cast a look at the tiny, uncomfortable bed.

`Yeah.'

`Are you going to see... Wesley today?'

Spike hesitated. `Probably not.'

`Oh. Okay then.'

`You got plans with Connor?'

`Err, no, he's going out shopping with Cordelia. Daylight... you know.'

`Oh.'

`Well, I've got stuff in the office to do then.'

`'K, pet. I'll maybe see you later.'

`Okay.'

`I could come down if you like when I get hungry... maybe we could...'

`Oh, yes. I'll wait to feed `til you get there then.'

`Good.'

`See you.' He glanced once more at the bed, got up and left.

Spike slammed his head back into the wall in frustration.

Wesley.

He dressed and almost ran to the apartment. Wesley was just up, pottering around in his pyjama bottoms, watching TV, drinking tea, and eating some toast. He seemed annoyed to see Spike.

Spike paused and took off his coat, heading towards the kitchen. Wesley followed him. `What's up, Spike? Did you come here to.? I mean.'

`Yeah, later maybe. I thought we could maybe talk for a bit, ya know... spend some time together. Make me some toast, hey? Lots of butter and marmalade, if you've got it.'

Wesley stood bemused with his toast halfway to his mouth. `You want to eat toast and talk?'

`Yeah, what's wrong with that?'

`Oh, nothing, I suppose, nothing. All right, go and sit down; I'll bring it in.'

He stood at the toaster wondering frantically what they could talk about. The only thing they had in common was Angel, and Wesley didn't want to talk about Angel with Spike. He feared the things he might hear.

He carried the breakfast in and sat alongside Spike on the couch. `All right then, Spike. What should we talk about?'

Spike munched his toast thoughtfully. `I dunno. Just stuff.'

Silence ensued. Eventually Wesley risked, `I'm working on a case with Gunn today.'

`Good. Demon?'

`Yes, a big one.'

`Huh.'

Spike finished his toast and watched the telly for a while, mulling over the key highlights of the conversation so far. He wondered how Angel was getting on in the office and whether he was hard, too, and thinking of him.

Suddenly Spike groaned and said abruptly. 'Come on, I've finished talking, get into the bedroom.'

Without speaking, he got up and made his way towards the bed. The opportunity for an orgasm in a human was never to be passed up. He stripped and regarded Wesley in the stripy pyjamas, grinned and slipped a hand in through the front opening in the soft flannelette material. Wesley was hard, warm, and Spike allowed his mind to shut down and his body to respond on autopilot. He pushed Wesley against a wall, sank to his knees and released the whole ensemble. It looked perfect, standing proud against the soft material. He licked up from the hanging balls to the tip of the erect cock and then down and swirled his tongue around each testicle. Wesley groaned and put his hands lightly onto Spike's head.

Vampire?

He'd show Wesley a thing or two about being a vampire. In one swift move he lodged Wesley into his throat, rapid, urgent swallowing motions, rubbing and stimulating the human penis on all sides.

Wesley screamed, his knees buckled and he trickled a warm stream of cum deep into Spike's throat. Spike groaned, pulled off and regarded the soft cock with disbelief. He looked up at Wesley who was panting rapidly, his head hung down.

`I've gotta go.' He began to dress.

`Err... what? Why? That was a bit sudden... err...'

`Sorry, mate, prior appointment...'

Spike ran almost the whole way back this time and burst into Angel's office, leaking and desperate.

`Where is everyone?'

Angel flung himself around his desk and crashed Spike into the wall. `Out. All out. Spread.' He twisted Spike around and ground him into the wall. He slid both hands down the insides of Spike's jeans and cupped his bare cheeks, groaning.

Spike tried to speak, but heard his voice faltering with suppressed desire. `Pain first, Angel. Don't forget the vampire shit.'

Angel moaned and Spike thought he heard a repressed `No' in the moan, but ignored it. `Come on, Angel, hurt me.'

Angel feebly batted at Spike but swiftly replaced his hands inside the back of Spike's jeans, cupping and squeezing the hard flesh of his cheeks.

`Angel! Pain! Blood! Now!'

Angel stood back looking furious and aroused in equal measure. `All right. All right. We should take this upstairs anyway... clients... I'll count to ten, Spike. If I catch you, you won't walk for the rest of the day.'

Spike's eyes flew wide, and he licked his lips in anticipation.

`One.'

Spike backed towards the door.

`Two.' Angel became Angelus.

Spike hissed and started to run, and he just caught a quiet, amused, `Three' before he hit the stairs at full pelt.

He was beginning to get to know the hotel a little better now and made directly for the back staircase to the kitchen. It wasn't where it was supposed to be, and he cursed, wondering if he was on the right floor. He headed up instead and made his way along a clearly abandoned hallway, kicking at an old mattress as he went. He pushed open the door to a bedroom, didn't want to get trapped, so moved on. He found another staircase and went up, clambering over disused furniture and some old suitcases.

A quiet, whispered, fearful `Ten' came from somewhere behind him.

Spike giggled in glee and ran down the dark hallway. There was nowhere to hide except in one of the bedrooms, so he pushed open the nearest door and went through. He stopped in surprise. It wasn't a bedroom, but the eaves of one wing of the hotel. The space ran the whole length of the hallway, had an arched roof supported by roof struts and one or two filthy, blackened dormer windows. He walked in, craning his neck to the arching roof, brushing away cobwebs as they caught in his hair.

His hand was seized in a powerful grip, but he ignored it and only said in wonder, `Hi.'

Angel had his neck craned back, too. Spike looked at him. `Didn't you know this was here?'

Angel shook his head. `Never come up here before. Look, it must be fifty feet long?'

`More.'

Angel pulled Spike into his arms. `What did I chase you up here for? Remind me.'

Spike chuckled. `Something painful, I seem to remember.'

`Hmm. Good.' He pushed Spike against the wall and cupped him through his jeans. `Take them off.'

`Do it yourself.' The blow to his belly for his arrogance made Spike wince in delight: it was hard and accurate and made him swell to the need for release. Angel clearly felt this, too, and flipped Spike around, ripping at the offending jeans, pulling them down to Spike's knees. Spike began to step out of them, but Angel stopped him.

`No, like that. I want to see you and take you like that.'

Spike groaned and allowed Angel to take him. Angel didn't even remove his clothes, he just took himself out and worked into Spike, bending him over, spreading him as much as the half-mast clothes would allow and fucking him hard and urgent in the gloom of the attic. Just before he came, Angel pulled out and finished himself off with one hand over Spike's bent back, his other hand massaging and probing Spike's hole as his cum slammed into the waiting cheeks.

Angel finished but almost immediately fell to his knees and twisted Spike around to his mouth. He swallowed Spike in greedy mouthfuls, urging his cum to propel down his throat with low, vibrating moans of appreciation.

Angel kept his hands on Spike's backside, clenching them and digging his nails in until he felt Spike was totally spent, and then raised up and used them to pull him in for a kiss. Before their mouths met, he pulled back fractionally.

Spike opened his eyes and brought himself back from the place he had been in and looked at Angel. Angel looked back at him, his head slightly on one side. `Are we allowed to kiss?'

Spike felt that this was a very important question somehow, and that a lot more than touching his lips to Angel's depended on his answer.

He pulled away and bent to rearrange his clothes. Angel sat down with his back against the wall, watching Spike thoughtfully, but silently.

Spike lit a cigarette and began to pace. The room was so large that he almost disappeared from Angel's sight before he turned and paced back the other way.

`Kissing?'

`Yes, Spike, is kissing allowed? Given that we are just doing the vampire thing here.'

`Did we kiss a lot before?'

`Sometimes.'

`Uh huh.'

`Was it vampire-like then... painful and demonic... part of the dark side an' all.'

Angel laughed. `Sometimes.'

`Uh huh. But not all the time.'

`No, not all the time - mostly though. And you have Wesley now... for ... kissing.'

`Yes. I have Wesley.'

`Does he... like kissing you, Spike?' Maddeningly, Angel discovered he had a missing button on his shirt and this engrossed him, and prevented him from being able to look at Spike as they talked.

Spike took a long drag of his cigarette and looked thoughtfully at Angel's lowered head. `I'm not sure that's the important question here, pet.'

Angel nodded faintly. `I know. But I don't want to ask the other one.'

`Ask it anyway, Angel. Please.'

Angel looked up at him. `Do you like kissing Wesley?'

Spike smiled, pleased.

Angel held out his hand and, as if that hand were magnetic, Spike moved inexorably towards him. He sank to his knees between Angel's bent thighs. Angel took Spike's cigarette and stubbed it out carefully, never taking his gaze from Spike's. His hands came up around Spike's head, and for a long time neither of them knew anything more but the taste and feel of each other's mouths. They rolled across the floor, seeking more intimacy and more contact, they groaned, moaned, hissed and purred as the sensations began to overwhelm them. Spike couldn't pull Angel close enough to him; he couldn't get enough of this... man... who was no longer just his sire. The strong, powerful body threatened to obliterate his own senses until there was only Angel - only the taste of him and the sound of him as he groaned to the kissing.

At first, Angel could taste the fresh nicotine on Spike, overlaid by a subtle, but unmistakable, trace of human cum. After this initial burst of impressions though, all he could taste was Spike: all he could think was that he was kissing Spike and that this was not his childe. There was nothing submissive or childlike in these returning kisses; he was kissing a man whose passion for him was evident in every flick of his tongue, every press of his lips, every opening of the soft cool mouth.

Angel came first, into his pants, but before he could pull away, embarrassed, shocked, and apologetic - Spike came, too, and shuddered as he released his thudding orgasm into his jeans. He lay down on Angel, panting unnecessarily but satisfactorily and realised, with a chuckle of amusement that they were now at the other end of the long attic room. He nodded the discovery to Angel, and Angel craned his neck around, bemused.

He soon looked back at Spike though, and his face was full of questions. Spike shook his head slightly. `I don't know, Angel. If you're going to ask me what just happened, I don't know.'

Angel nodded as if this answered him quite satisfactorily. He wrapped his arms lightly around Spike's back and relaxed to the feel of the body on him. Spike sank his head into the hollow of Angel's shoulder and lay very still - which felt kinda right for someone who had no place he'd rather be.

They knew time was passing for the beams of light moved, filtered through the LA dirt coating the windows, as the sun passed overhead and on towards the evening. They only roused when Spike's stomach gave a huge, not-to-be-ignored rumble. Angel laughed. `Weren't we going to feed together today or something?'

Spike shrugged. `Don't care. Don't move.'

`Come on. We'd better shower. I'm stuck to my clothes, and they're stuck to you.'

`Good.'

`Join me, then?'

Spike lifted his head. `In the shower?'

`Yes.'

`Fuck.'

`Maybe.'

Spike chuckled. `I'm gonna have to invest in some new threads if I stay here much longer.'

Angel smiled but didn't reply at first. He climbed to his feet and made a show of dusting Spike down a little. `I think we may have to invest in quite a lot of things, Spike.' He didn't elaborate further, but walked slowly through the attic, tearing away the cobwebs they had not disturbed on their lower progress through it earlier.

Spike followed him out thoughtfully, and they made their way down to the lower floors. They passed a room, and Angel paused outside briefly, but then moved on with a sad expression. Spike poked him in the ribs. `What?'

`That was Lorne's room.'

`Was?'

`He's gone. He didn't get on... he wanted to run a new club, and it seemed for the best.'

Spike wondered what could have happened so bad that the nosey demon would go before he saw the outcome of the plan. He had not missed Angel's quickly retracted mention of the brat. He looked at Angel's lowered brow with annoyance. `You'll miss him?'

Angel didn't reply, but continued to walk slowly down the stairs, his shoulders returning to their habitual hunched position as the weight of the world returned to them. The effect of mentioning the green fairy was not lost on Spike.

Just as they were about to turn into Angel's room, Connor appeared with a number of shopping bags, his expression a picture of eager distain at the thought of the clothes Cordelia had made him buy. `Look, father, I cannot possibly need all these things - do you want to come and see what I've got?'

Angel hesitated and glanced at Spike, anticipating trouble. To his profound relief, Spike chuckled and swung gracefully away towards his own room. He didn't even look at Angel but said naturally to Connor. `Hey, get those new glad-rags on, an' I'll take you to a movie tonight, hey? Guarantee it'll be more exciting that the one the po... yer dad took you to last night.'

Connor hesitated for a fraction then beamed at Spike and pushed on into Angel's room. Spike didn't turn to look back at Angel, but he gave a small, surreptitious wave of his hand as a farewell salute, knowing that he was being watched.

Knowing he would be understood, Angel only said distinctly, `Thank you for that, Spike.'

Spike grinned and went on to his own room.

*****