Wesley woke very early, as he always did these days. It really annoyed him, for there was little to motivate him in the passing of the days, nothing to get out of bed for except a shower - which he always felt in need of when Lilah had been there. He glanced at the clock, frustrated that it was so early still.

He pulled on a pair of old sweats and, rubbing his hair, went into the living room. He was startled by a soft knock on the door, not sure who or what he most hoped it would be. He put the chain on and opened it a crack cautiously. 'Ah. Spike.'

'Ah. Wesley.'

'I heard you were better.'

'I heard you weren't.'

'What do you want?'

'What do you want?'

'I want you to piss off.'

Spike chuckled. ''K. Sorry, gotta keep me hand in; you never know when I might need it again.' Despite the small laugh, Wesley had the distinct impression that Spike was not really joking.

Wesley sighed, as if making a difficult decision then shut the door on Spike. He released the chain and opened it again before Spike had time to change his slightly amused expression. 'Come in.'

Spike stepped in and went immediately over to the window, as if needing the reassurance of the additional space. 'This place smells.'

'I expect it does. I don't feel much like cleaning it.'

'Huh.'

'What do you want, Spike?'

'I want you to tell me why you are here.'

'In America?'

Spike turned a withering look on the man. Ignoring the look, Wesley ran his eyes over the clear signs of physical healing on the vampire. 'You've been feeding well.'

'Yeah. Been stuffing every day. Had to. Been ordered.'

'Why do you want to know about me?'

'I don't specifically about you - I want to know about her. I know the bare outline: Darla was brought back human; she wanted Angel again; he wanted her; you staked her. I want to know more.'

'Again, I repeat, why?'

Spike turned and looked him in the eye. 'Why do you think? I need Angel to help me. Angel is the only person I can come to for help. I need to know why he wanted his dark side again. If he did, I might. If he did, what if I get into this with him - this healing - and he turns on me? See? I need to know.'

Wesley took a long, deep, thoughtful breath. He looked intently at Spike. He came a little closer to see what the vampire would do. Spike continued to look at him with a frank, honest - if slightly sad - expression.

Wesley nodded. 'I don't believe a single word of that.'

Spike frowned. 'Why the hell else would I want to know? You've been fucking with the devil too long, I'm thinking, Wesley.'

Wesley took a step back. 'You know about her?'

'Angel told me his version of it, yeah.'

'Oh, and wouldn't I love to have heard that.'

Spike grinned. 'It was colourful. I'll give you that.'

Effectively distracted from his initial suspicion, Wesley turned to put the kettle on. 'Tea?'

Spike came forward, keeping his intense blue eyes clear and fixed on Wesley. 'Haven't been offered that for a while. Yeah.'

'So, the sordid little story, hey?'

'Oh yeah, and don't leave anything out if it's sordid. Always liked sordid.'

Wesley poured the tea and handed Spike his. He sat on the couch, and Spike hopped up onto the kitchen counter.

'You know Wolfram and Hart brought her back? From. wherever you go when you get staked, I guess.. She was human then, and Angel could not resist her. He just couldn't.'

Spike leant forward intently at this, listening, but he did not interrupt.

'She would come to him at night apparently - some kind of spell, although we never really knew how. It didn't help that Angel didn't tell us..'

'Didn't tell you his dead sire was fucking him in his dreams? I wonder why he didn't..'

Wesley ignored his look and continued. 'Well, she got turned again..'

'No. Tell me more about the obsession.'

'Why? This is all just setting the scene for the part you wanted to know about.'

'No, I want to know it all. That. Tell me about his obsession. Why was he obsessed with her? What did she do? What was she like?'

'Well, you knew her..'

'Yeah, but I hated the bitch; I never got the attraction. Tell me what you think Angel saw in her.'

'Well, she was fragile in a way, I suppose. Fragile, but strong. no, not strong. feisty. Without trying to make her sound like Doris Day, she was very feisty..'

'Feisty..' Spike murmured the word, but then nodded at Wesley to continue.

'She was intensely sexual, of course, and being human, she exuded warm sexuality.' He blushed slightly at Spike's raised eyebrows. 'If you are into ice-queen bitches, that is. I prefer someone a little more..'

'Down and dirty?'

Wesley chuckled. 'Yes. Anyway, like you, I didn't like her, but even I could see why Angel might be attracted to her.'

'Describe. Exactly.'

'Jesus, Spike, do you want me to draw you a picture of Angel's sexual frustration?'

'Yes.'

'Bloody hell. Look, work it out for yourself, Spike - you're a man. or have a man's urges, anyway..'

'Urges.?'

Wesley chuckled again at Spike's teasing look and relaxed slightly. 'Who's telling this? Urges are exactly the right word for Angel. He was, is, totally sexually repressed - he has repressed himself. I didn't really see or understand it until I..'

Spike leant further forward. 'Got a bit un-repressed yourself?'

'Yes. When I'm. with her. I can imagine Angel.. And, God that sounded so wrong. When I look at him now, I can see it all swirling around inside him: the need for physical touch, the need for release and the need for love.' Wesley looked down and stroked a small crease in his sweats for a moment. 'I sometimes think that the thing with Darla has left Angel. broody - as if.. No. That's too..'

'What? As if what? And how do you mean broody?'

Wesley looked up, but his gaze was far away. 'If he were a woman, I'd say his biological clock was ticking. He's desperate to love something. Darla stirred up all that huge capacity for love, and it's eating him away inside. He's vulnerable.'

Spike suddenly slipped off the counter, and Wesley jumped. Spike covered by waving his empty mug, and Wesley got up to make some more tea. When he thought the human was ready, Spike said quietly, 'Go on then. Darla human, Angel needing love.'

'Oh, yes. But he wouldn't let himself have her..'

'Why not?'

'Will you stop interrupting? Because she was human, because he feared a moment of true happiness again, because she wanted him to turn her, because he'd practiced that repression for so long I don't think he could break free of it - I don't know.!'

'Oh. 'K. Go on.'

'Thank you. So, then she got turned again, and it destroyed him for a while. He got crazy; she turned up again, and she was still everything he wanted - but demon now, too. So he slept with her.'

Wesley turned away and began to poke at his teabag with a spoon.

'Go on, Mate.'

'I couldn't let him go to her. Do you see? I couldn't let her have him - not after he had come so far, made such a journey. So I stayed on at the hotel one night. I didn't really know how far they had gone together. I wasn't sure he would actually sleep with her - with the devil's whore. Huh. Anyway, I went into. the room. He was. engrossed, didn't hear me. I thought she was. attacking him while he slept again. I don't know why I thought that, but she was sitting on him like a bloody incubus..'

'Oh, do I sense this is gonna get good?'

'Not really. Not for me. Not for Angel, and definitely not for Darla. Angel was. grunting, and for one second, I thought he was suffocating - and to this day, I'm not sure whether that was because I had so stopped thinking about him as a vampire, or that I wasn't thinking much at all. I ran up, and I staked her from behind. They were so. busy, they didn't even sense me.'

Spike pouted to cover his need to laugh. 'And there was just. dust?'

'Hmm. Dust and something sticking up in the dust. It wasn't funny, Spike.'

'Nah. Course not. Tragic. So, one pissed Angel. Hey, Wes, what'd'ya reckon? Angel more pissed that you staked Darla or that you got to see his pecker?'

'I think I preferred you insane, Spike.'

Spike took his refreshed tea and, still chuckling, went to sit on the other end of the couch. 'Summary then.. Why Darla?'

'Why did Angel become obsessed with Darla? Do you want my honest opinion? I think because she was there, she was available - a demon - and she reminded him of a time when he did not have to restrain.'

Spike buried his face into his mug and kept his expression neutral. 'Okay. Now I know. So, 's not gonna happen again then - unless there's another Darla out there.'

'And that, I am very relieved to say, is not going to happen. I'm not sure what we've accomplished here, Spike.'

''S given me a laugh, for one thing.'

'Oh, good, I always enjoy providing the comic relief.'

'Do you like providing relief, Wes?'

'Ah, the madness returns. Time for you to go, Spike; it's nearly light, and I do not fancy having you lurking around here all day.'

Spike smiled and stood up. 'I'll see you around, Watcher.'

'Unfortunately, I doubt that.'

'Whatever.'

Wesley held the door, and Spike sauntered out into the hallway with a small backward wave of his hand then he paused. He turned and said casually, 'What brought him back from the dark place? What saved him?'

Wesley didn't need to think about that one and said without hesitation, 'His friends. He has good friends, and they stuck by him.'

Spike nodded thoughtfully, gave Wesley a two-fingered salute of thanks and disappeared.

Wesley leant thoughtfully on the door, running the odd visit through his head. He knew Spike was not being honest with him. He distrusted the vampire's motives, but he didn't know why.

For all that he was depressed, lonely, slightly mad, and sleeping with his own devil's whore, there was still a very large part of Wesley that was just that: Wesley. That part was disturbed by Spike's visit. He showered, shaved, and when he felt the Wesley part reforming inside him, he went out for a walk in the sunshine to think. He wandered into a park and sat down on a bench, watching the children play. This complete contrast between sunlight and happy voices and what his life had become seemed to put things into perspective, and he found it easier to think.

He allowed both meetings with Spike to run through his head, letting them flow without consciously trying to examine them. In this way, connections were made, odd things began to make sense, and Wesley suddenly saw that there was another alternative to the scenarios he had outlined to Angel: Angel might be destroyed by Spike and lost to the great fight in that way.

Wesley pouted slightly. He had no proof. He had nothing concrete that he could take to Angel and say, here, this is what Spike will do to you. On the contrary, he had only superstition; nothing that did not look like sour grapes and, on the telling, might only ally Angel more closely to Spike.

He could see no way forward that did not mean alienating himself even further from Angel, and he had the uneasy feeling that if Angel ever needed a faithful friend, then he needed one now.

Angel came down early that evening to see if any interesting cases had come in. He leant on the counter, smiling at the three humans. `Hi.'

They glanced up, and Fred beamed at him. `Hi ya.'

They returned to their conversation, which, as far as Angel could work out, was about a movie they were planning to see. He laughed when they laughed. He smiled when he saw them smiling but, as usual, he did not really get it. He heard it; he understood the words, but the human sensitivities were utterly alien to him.

He even risked a comment and felt pleased when they all turned to him and included him, as if he were one of them. Then he feared they were only humouring him, and that they might think of him as nothing more than a demon playing at being a human.

Still trying to appear interested, he suddenly felt eyes on him. He turned to find Spike sitting on one of the couches, leaning on his knees, watching him with an amused smile. He went to sit next to him.

`How are you feeling?'

`'K. Bored. Rather be doing something. Angel....?'

Angel turned, slightly wary. `Hmm?'

`Can I ask you something?'

`Is this a trick question?'

Spike chuckled. `Dunno. I just wanted to ask....' He glanced up at the humans who, while they weren't actually listening to their conversation, were clearly curious. `Can we go somewhere. Your room?'

Angel glanced at Spike's face and nodded. `Okay.'

He poured them both a drink, and they sat in chairs by the window so Spike could smoke. Angel was patient and waited for him to come to it in his own time. Eventually, Spike stubbed out the cigarette on the sill and said in a rush, `How do you cope with it, Angel? What keeps you sane?'

Pleased beyond measure, flattered that Spike was confiding in him, Angel leant forward and said seriously, `It isn't easy, Spike; I won't pretend that it is. It's a constant struggle, day and night. As you said, you need to keep busy. When I'm not working, I meditate, paint, sketch.. I don't allow myself any time when I am not busy.'

`You still draw?'

`When I'm in the mood.'

`I remember you being good. Can I see some stuff you've done recently - of the guys downstairs? Buffy?'

Angel frowned slightly. Still flattered, still pleased that Spike's attitude was so positive, he nevertheless did not want to share something so personal with Spike. Spike saw this hesitation and looked away quickly. `Sorry. Don't worry, hey? Guess I've not earned the right yet.'

Angel blinked and, with a deep sigh, got up and went to his desk. He lifted out a folder and sat down again with it on his knees.

`This one is Buffy. From memory obviously.'

Spike looked at it a long time without expression. Angel watched his face closely then handed him another.

`Fuck.... The bitch.'

`Darla, yes.'

`'S good. Looks just like her.' Spike quickly moved it to one side and put out his hand for another. Angel chuckled and handed one over. Spike jerked his head back at the portrait of Drusilla and ran his fingers lightly over her face. `Best of all, Mate. Isn't she beautiful?'

`Yes. They all were. Are.'

`Another.'

Angel hesitated over this last one but, eventually, handed it over. Spike looked sharply at him when he saw its content. `Me?'

`Yeah.'

`Where's me eyes then? You tryin' to tell me something?'

`I... I started it when you first got here.' Angel looked up at him with a frank expression. `I've not been able to decide about you, so I haven't been able to get them right.'

`Oh. Maybe you should do it from life then, not just from memory.'

`Maybe.' Angel was uncharacteristically pleased with this veiled suggestion that they spend more time together and, puzzled by his reaction, took the picture back to replace it with the others in his folder.

`No humans then?'

`What?'

Spike smiled. `They were all the dead, Angel.'

`Not Buffy.'

`Been there though. Anyway. I'm kinda tired now; maybe I should sleep like you said.'

Angel nodded, pleased that Spike seemed to be following his advice.

Just as he went out of the door, Spike turned and said hesitantly, `I'm really missing the fighting, Mate. I feel so angsty all the time, ya know? What do you reckon to us doing some training together tonight?'

Angel's dead heart sparked with pleasure. `Of course.'

Spike grinned a slightly cheeky grin. `I'll work off some of that easy-living flab for ya.'

`I'll teach you some manners.'

Spike laughed. `Tonight then.'

Angel returned to the humans in the lobby, now not bothering to find out what they were talking about. His head was full of Spike: his swift recovery, the interest he was taking in his life, the promise of things they could do together. Not since Darla's re-appearance as a human had Angel felt such a sense of there being someone who knew him well enough for him to let his guard down slightly: someone who was also a demon, with demonic thoughts and desires coursing through them.

Suddenly, Angel realised for the first time that there might be some benefit to him from having brought Spike here. He'd been truthful: he'd done it for Buffy. But now it occurred to him that he not only had a fellow vampire living with him, but one that was soulled as he was: a soulled vampire who had known him for nearly two hundred years.

He tried some sketches of Spike to see if he could get the eyes right, but sketching from memory suddenly seemed very frustrating. Who wanted their own interpretation of such eyes when you could stare intently at the real thing? Angel knew a tiny amount of loneliness had lifted from him that day, and the promise of the coming evening excited him more and more as the day wore on.

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

Spike emerged just as the sun set, dressed all in black. Angel looked at him. `What sort of training do you want to do? Weapons? Hand to hand?'

`I wanna run, and I want you to try and catch me.'

`What?'

`Outside, Angel, in the dark, through the streets.... I just want to run and run, but I want you to hunt me down. Or are you too slow these days?' He lifted his eyebrow provocatively.

Angel laughed a deep, belly laugh. `Yesss, I think I'm going to enjoy the teaching of the manners. How much of a head start do you need?'

`How little can you afford?'

`You cheeky brat. Okay. Five minutes. But....'

Spike was moving toward the door, so hesitated. `What?'

`We are very... estranged. I don't sense you as I once did. As I ought.'

`Oh. So, what, you wanna bite me?'

`Not want to, but can't hunt you if I don't.'

`Oh. Kinda out of practice of this.' Spike stood nervously by the door. Angel went toward him.

`Has it been so long that you've forgotten?'

`Not forgotten, no. Just repressed somewhat.'

`Come here then.'

Spike chuckled a little. `There should be rising music from a bleedin' orchestra, shouldn't there? Momentous moments? Profound reunions?'

`You think too much and most of it's crap. You wanted this hunting game....'

`Yeah. If I'd have thought of this, I'd never have suggested it.' He looked down at Angel's shoes. `Go on then.'

`Look at me.'

Spike did and watched the transition. Oddly, he found this face less confusing than the other. This face had mostly only been what it purported to be, and he knew where he was with it. He tipped his neck a little to one side and smiled softly. `Make it hurt. Make it a good one.'

Angel frowned but did not hesitate to place his mouth to the pale neck. He had not been this close, he had not smelt or tasted Spike's skin like this, for over a hundred years. It stirred powerful memories of a time when restraint was something to tie people up with. It made his demon nature writhe. It made his dead heart swell with the promise of family blood - his blood, coming back to him refined through this childe of his creation. It made other things swell, and Angel hesitated momentarily to enjoy the tightening in his balls and the slight tingle up and down his shaft as it thickened in his soft pants. At just the right moment, just when all things came together in a heady swell of pleasure, he sliced into Spike's neck. He could not help the small grunt of satisfaction at the feel of flesh parting to his desire once more. He put his hands around Spike's neck and entwined his fingers through the long hair. Deep, strong sucks eased Spike's blood into Angel's mouth where he held it a little too long, tasting it, before he let it roll down his throat.

He thought he could get no more pleasure from the bite until he felt Spike's hand creep up hesitantly to his neck, as if not sure it would be allowed or welcome. Angel took one hand off Spike and clamped it over Spike's hand, encouraging him to rub and play with his hair. He felt Spike's body relax fractionally, and for the briefest of moments, their hips brushed together. Angel pulled back from the intense pleasure of this brief brush, willing to explore his demon nature as far as feeding off this childe, but not willing to explore other more repressed urges.

Spike felt Angel pull back and eased him off his neck. He looked at Angel with his head tilted a little on one side. Tense and slightly disconcerted, Angel waited to see if Spike would mention the oddly sexual moment.

Spike suddenly grinned. `Catch me if you can, Pillock,' and he flew out of the building in a blur of black.

Angel almost howled with excitement. No way was he waiting the agreed five minutes, but he knew Spike only expected him to cheat and grinned at their shared knowledge of each other. He dived out of the door and sensed the night air. Spike's blood, as a magnet on a compass, seemed to swing him toward the north, so he followed the instinct and began to run. Spike was right. It felt good to run. Now he was stirring his demon blood so, his senses became more acute. He could sense Spike's essence somewhere just ahead of him, sense that he had climbed. He stopped and looked up. A pale face watched him from the top of a building. Suddenly, Angel dived and rolled, a trashcan missing him as it was thrown from the building. It missed him by some feet, and Angel smiled in pleasure at the knowledge that Spike was only playing.

He began to climb the fire escape, faster than human eyes could have seen. He was flying on pure demon adrenaline now, but when he reached the top, Spike had gone. He eyed the gap to the next building and ran, landing heavily but squarely on the other side. Spike giggled from edge of the building he'd been on, tutted, and then turned, shooting down the fire escape. Angel cursed, backed up and leapt back, not getting enough run up and only catching the edge of the roof. He hauled himself up, but all this was delaying him, and by the time he reached street level, he'd lost sight of Spike.

Angel allowed his conscious brain to shut down, and he followed his instincts, running further and further into the run-down outskirts of the industrial district. He didn't even see the squalor, took no notice of the homeless or their needs, just needing to find Spike. The game was something much more to Angel now. Besides asserting his sire's superiority, besides proving he wasn't fat and that it was all just muscle, he couldn't deny his needs. He wanted to lay his hands on Spike. He wanted to punish him and teach him manners in some imaginative ways. As if conjured by the thought, Spike suddenly materialised at the end of the alley. He seemed about to scale a large chain-link fence, but turned when he sensed Angel. He let out a cry of annoyance that sent shivers down Angel's back. There had been an unmistakable recognition of his sire's power in Spike's cry. The small sound of fear only made Angel harder. He had not been consciously aware of his erection during the chase, it was just in the background: a subtle counterpoint to the pumping of his dead blood, the taste of power in his mouth and the joy of knowing that one of his childer was so close. Now, it dominated his mind. He felt it urgent, rising against his pants as he walked toward Spike.

*****
Part 8:

Spike gritted his teeth and picked up a plank. Angel bent and picked up a piece of railing, and they circled each other warily. Spike grinned, licked his lips and said, `Took you long enough to get here. Thought I was gonna have to send out the cavalry.'

`Just giving you time to recover, Childe, before I stomp on you.'

Spike chucked his piece of wood away. `I could take you asleep, you fat, lazy git.'

Angel threw the bar away and, before Spike could react at all, dove to the ground and swept his childe's feet out from under him. Spike fell heavily on his back; Angel was on him, and by force of his greatly superior weight, imprisoned him effectively just by straddling his belly.

Spike began to laugh, the movement wobbling Angel. `I should have remembered not to underestimate you, Angel. I'm thinking more muscle than flab now.'

Not having the most robust self-esteem, Angel felt ridiculously pleased by this praise but didn't let it show. He nodded wisely. `So, what is the best form of instruction for a recalcitrant childe who has forgotten his manners?'

Spike shook his head in mock bewilderment but added subtly, with a raise of an eyebrow, `Dunno, never `ad one, but it's got to involve pain, I'm thinking.'

`I was thinking study and long periods of serious reading.'

`Bugger. How about a swift, sharp crunching and no books?'

`How about community service?'

`How's about you just cut me nuts off and be done with it?' It was the wrong time for Spike to have mentioned his testicles - however much in jest he meant the throwaway comment to be. Angel shifted slightly on his childe's hard belly, grinding his balls together pleasantly. Spike pouted a little. `It's a bit hard `ere, Mate.'

`What?'

`This bloody ground, and you're no lightweight. Take it home now, yeah?'

Slightly distracted by the thought of Spike's balls and even more distracted by the thought that Spike's balls were distracting him, Angel got off thoughtfully. Spike leapt up, slapped him playfully on the rump and shouted with glee, `You NEVER learn Angel,' and sped off, laughing into the night.

Angel pounded after him, and it was all Spike could do to keep the distance between them. He ducked into buildings; he climbed; he hid - all to no avail. Angel had been bested once, and he was not going to suffer the indignity again. Eventually, Angel found himself back at the hotel. He went in cautiously and sensed Spike in the basement. Nothing very demonic in this: he could smell him now, Spike clearly sweating as heavily as he was. He stripped out of his coat and went down the steps. It was dark, but he could see Spike quite clearly, standing in a fighter's stance in the middle of the floor. No weapons, just Spike, stripped naked to the waist and waiting.

Angel stripped off his shirt, too, and began to circle Spike. He dodged toward him, but Spike didn't fall for it and kept his guard up. Angel smiled then lunged. Spike merely turned on his heel and clicked his fingers with a soft, `Ol�.' Angel turned with a furious expression.

`You little....'

`Come on, Angel. Lay a hand on me. Just one.'

Angel tried, but Spike was too fast for him; he neatly stepped away again. Angel skidded slightly; Spike began to laugh and, unable to dodge fast enough next time, Angel was on him. He wrestled him down and lay on him as his slim blond childe tried to wipe the tears from his eyes. Angel's sweat didn't help, dripping onto Spike's face. Spike's sweat mixed with Angel's where they lay skin on skin. Spike relaxed his head back onto the floor. `You win. No more tricks. I'm shattered.'

Angel couldn't relax. His whole body ached for something more, only he was utterly unwilling to define that something. He didn't want this to end now. He didn't want to get up from Spike's body, but he could see no excuse to continue lying where he was. Reluctantly, he moved to one side and sat back on his heels. Spike sat up, then began to climb to his feet. As he did, he placed a soft, chaste kiss on Angel's forehead. `Thanks for taking me in, Angel, and helping me like this. You had no reason to, and I'm grateful.'

Angel caught him by the back of the neck and pulled him down again until they were both kneeling. He frowned but bent forward and placed his lips to Spike's: equally chaste, equally soft. He pulled back and looked at Spike to see his reaction to this. Spike looked slightly surprised but not revolted. Angel nodded gravely. `You're welcome, Spike. It's good having you here.'

Spike nodded, too. `S good then. Your hospitality extend to remembering to feed me? Cus I'm starving after that.'

Angel's eyes dilated. He knew Spike had been referring to the blood in bags upstairs, but his body still ached for some kind of physical release he would not name, and Spike's careless words sent a frisson of deep need through his soul. He held Spike tighter by the back of his neck and pulled him, slow inch by slow inch, toward his throat.

Angel's skin was warm. His sweat was salty. His demonic blood pounded in his veins. Spike sank into the neck and took again the long journey that had once lost him entirely.

Angel felt his erection, which had stayed manageable until this point, swell to breaking at this touch. It was the first time he had been held by any one since Darla had exploded in his arms. It was the first time he had held Spike for any other reason than to give him pain since that distant bed in a distant city in a time when he had been so different that Angel tried never to think of it.

He would have controlled himself, but Spike chose that moment to moan softly as he fed, and his tongue flicked into the wound. That tiny, intimate penetration sent jolts of pleasure through Angel, and with the lack control of a teenager on a first date, Angel came in his pants: a shuddering release that made him clamp Spike painfully to him, so he could rub against the hard body as he came.

He pulled Spike away and looked at the bloodstained mouth. With almost no hesitation, he bent and kissed his own blood from the parted lips. Spike responded and, with a small moan of pleasure, pushed his tongue into Angel's mouth. Angel wasn't sure where they would have gone from here, but suddenly, Spike pushed him away and sat back with a small restraining touch on the lips. `Jeez. Okay. What just happened here? Not very... manly?'

Angel laughed, incredibly relieved by Spike's reaction and the easing of the tension. What could have been a hideous moment became shared puzzlement and shared intimacy.

`I think I need to get out more.'

Spike collapsed in a heap on the floor; Angel looked at him for a moment, but was then pulled down into a wrestle. He laughed, and they fought hard until both were too tired to care who won; they just lay side-by-side on their backs, chuckling at nothing.

`I think I've laughed more tonight than I have since I came to LA. Since I got soulled.'

`I wasn't laughing much before I got this bloody thing either. Long time for me, too.' Spike sat up and held out his hand to Angel. Angel blinked then took it, and they both stood. `Angel...?' Spike pouted, pursed his lips and gritted his teeth all in swift succession, as if trying to decide which favourite expression he felt most comfortable with. Finally, the pursed lips won. `I'm not sure what happened tonight. Shh... let me finish, yeah? Only... I'm not too sure who I am yet enough to.... Shit. Can we sort of put this on hold for a while...? `Til I feel stronger?'

`On hold?' Angel was utterly astonished. Spike had as good as said, "I want you, but not quite yet." He nodded, caught off-guard, bewildered by his childe's reaction. He had thought his orgasm driven by pure lust, blood, sweat, fighting - the demon fucking around they all occasionally indulged in. He had thought Spike's kiss just an unthinking reaction to that - but here was his childe, wanting him. Angel nodded slowly. `I'll have to think about this, too.'

Spike suddenly grinned. `I like the thought of you thinking about me,' and with that, he went with a slightly cheeky swagger toward the stairs. Provocatively dragging his eyes down Angel's body to his damp groin, he murmured, `Thinking you might be needing a shower `bout now, Pet.' He bolted before Angel could get a hand on him, and did not make another appearance until the morning.

Angel spent the most confusing night he had spent in a long time. As he showered, he tried to make sense of what he had done. He realised, with a slight sense of surprise, that he never thought about Spike as William any more. Will, occasionally - for Spike had been Will for some years as his childe, before he had affected the change to his name... but not William. Not the pale, shortsighted, prudish, silly poet that Angelus had taken for his sport in London. For there was no resemblance: not in the body, the face, the manner, the personality, the sense of humour - nothing.

By the time Angel got into bed, he had worked out that whatever reaction he had had to Spike in the basement had been purely his reaction to Spike - nothing to do with Angelus or with William. He could not get over the fact that Spike had appeared to want him, too. That was something they had never explored together.

By the time he decided that he would not sleep at all that night, Angel had got to the stage of thinking about Spike's words... not yet... soon... I want you.... Angel exaggerated this a little but allowed himself pleasure in remembering the moment.

By the time the morning came and he heard Fred coming down and the others arriving for work, he had realised that a potentially embarrassing situation could now exist between himself and Spike. He dressed and went downstairs thoughtfully, wondering what he should say. Spike was in the kitchen, so he did not even have the usual space of the day to mull him over. Spike immediately turned and smiled. `Hi ya.'

Angel hesitated for a fraction, and then grinned back, incredibly happy at the atmosphere he sensed between them. He came toward the microwave and reached up to fetch some mugs. Suddenly, almost shockingly, Angel felt Spike's lips on his. They were withdrawn so fast he did not have time to respond, but Spike looked up at him and tipped his head on one side. `Huh.'

`And....?'

`Oh. Only, I thought... last night... when I got to bed.. I couldn't believe it was real. Didn't seem very... likely....'

Angel laughed. `You're not mad, Spike. Not unless I am, too. It doesn't seem very real to me, either.'

'So, how's about we put the reality to the test a bit? Wanna go somewhere tonight?'

'More abandoned buildings and squalor?'

'Nah. Just a bar for a drink.'

Angel almost felt a blush rushing to his face. Emotionally, he was blushing and found it hard to believe that his face was not a rash of colour as well. He could only nod and turn away. He kept his intense pleasure locked in his dead heart, but that still organ seemed a little more animated from the holding of this secret joy.

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

Angel dressed carefully that evening. He enjoyed clothes and hoped he looked good in the style he favoured. He began with soft wool pants and a cashmere sweater but soon discarded them and rummaged deeper in his closet. Jeans and a casual shirt came out next, but once he had them on, without the benefit of a mirror, he could not be sure it was exactly the statement he wanted. He sat on the bed and thought about the coming evening. He pictured them walking to the bar together, talking, laughing. He smiled and went back to the closet.

When Angel appeared at the top of the stairs, Spike chuckled. 'You do realise you're kinda saying, fuck me now in that, don't you?'

Once more, Angel's fragile ego swelled on this praise, and he brushed his fingers unconsciously over the leather pants, enjoying the feel of the silk shirt over his cool skin. He walked slowly down the stairs, trying not to catch Spike's eye and give away his pleasure. He had just reached the bottom step when Spike looked up and said, 'Whoa! Look at you two.'

Angel turned, puzzled. Fred and Cordelia were coming down the stairs, giggling slightly. He turned to Spike. 'They're coming with us?'

Spike tipped his head to one side and said neutrally, 'Well, yeah. Two of us. two of them.?'

Spike took one girl on each arm and strode out of the lobby. Angel hesitated, but then followed, confused by his reaction to this turn of events.

As soon as they hit the pavement, Spike peeled off from the girls, leaving them to walk together in the front. He waited for Angel. 'Look at them. Can you believe that those two are your friends?' He nodded over his shoulder at the hotel. 'And all that, come to that. You've done all this without the help I'm getting. I can't imagine what it must have been like for you to get your soul back and be alone. Be outcast.'

Angel glanced sideward at Spike. 'You look funny without your coat.'

'Thanks. Glad I took so long to dress now. All this effort, and I achieve funny. Great.'

Angel smiled shyly to himself at the thought of Spike also dressing carefully for their. date. He tipped his head back to the night sky, took a deep breath of the air he rarely bothered to taste and began to enjoy the evening.

They went to a small bar, and Angel bought drinks for everyone. Unexpectedly, they were the perfect group. They had enough in common to make the conversation easy, not so much that everything had already been said. Angel sat back a little and watched and listened to the other three with pleasure. Spike seemed to be in his element. He flirted outrageously with the girls. He told stories about Angel's past that fascinated, amused and horrified them in turn, but every story was an affectionate tribute to the vampire Angel had been. The stories told of his strength, his artistry, his cunning, and running as a thread through each story was the remembrance of Angelus' power. Angel took the girls' laughter in good part, and gave Spike a small, shy smile of gratitude for his thoughtful selection of tales. Swelling on the praise, feeling more human than he had felt for a very long time, Angel let the alcohol flow freely, drinking as much as Spike, unconcerned for one night about the control he habitually practiced.

By the time they returned to the lobby, they were all fairly drunk. It was gloomy in the vast space, and before Angel had time to turn the lights on, Spike stuck his hand out to Cordelia and said, 'Dance?'

She laughed and took it with a small courtesy. Fred jumped slightly and rushed eagerly behind the counter. 'Wait! Music..'

They stood waiting for her to put something on. She held a CD in her hand then, with a huge grin, rummaged in her desk for another and put it on. She looked up. 'This is for you, Spike. I told you it would pass.'

Spike raised his eyebrow questioningly but chuckled when the track began.

Come and hold my hand
I want to contact the living
Not sure I understand, this path I've been given.

Slowly, he began to sweep Cordelia around the floor of the lobby; both drunk, both laughing, they didn't really care whether they were skilful or not. Fred leant on the counter and watched them wistfully. Spike looked at her then twisted his head around to find Angel. He flicked a look at Fred. Angel shook his head fractionally, but when Spike gave him a mutinous look, added petulantly, 'I don't dance.'

Spike stopped and caught Cordelia's spinning body in his arms. He looked at her; he looked at Fred. 'Is that so?'

Suddenly, without allowing any refusal, Spike pulled Angel out of the shadows. 'Come on. Let's be brave. Together.' He began to charge up and down the floor with Angel, stretching their hands out in front, cheek to cheek in a ridiculous parody of dancing. When they reached the wall, Spike spun them around with a theatrical flourish, tossed his head up and charged back with him toward Cordelia. The girls were clapping and laughing their encouragement to Spike. Fred began to dance similarly with Cordy and to Angel's astonishment, he started to enjoy the fun. He began to play up, too, whirling Spike around, showing off how strong and fast they both were, how inexhaustible. and still the music played on. Angel stood on Spike's feet, so Spike suddenly stopped and pulled Angel to him. He turned the laughing vampire in his arms so Angel's back was firmly against his belly, and then whispered in his ear, 'Shh.. I'm pretending to be showing you some steps.'

Angel stopped laughing and said slightly puzzled, 'Why pretending?'

Spike placed his lips to Angel's ear. 'Cus I'm really just enjoying this.' He pressed his hips forward and his erection into Angel's hard arse.

'Oh. Fuck.'

'I'm thinking 'bout it.'

'Spike..' Angel's voice was low and husky, but before he could complete his urgent reply, Spike began to sing loudly to the chorus as he rubbed softly against his partner.

'I just want to feel real love..'

Cordy and Fred joined in at the top of their voices as well. Angel stood, swayed gently by Spike, Spike's arms around him, Spike's erection pressing into him, and he had a rare moment of almost pure happiness that made him fear for his soul.

*****