Spike landed on his back, in a flurry of black leather and ..hair. His hair was in his face. Startled, he shook it off. Then, with the telltale shrug of his lean shoulders, he climbed to his boot clad feet, and looked around. Nothingness. Alot of white nothingness. He glanced down at his own form. With the exception of the bizarre return of the long, reddish-brown locks....and an old song he could not identify suddenly plaguing the edge of his conciousness...nothing was amiss. He still mostly resembled the neo-punk vampire, down to the Doc Maartans. Still the Big Bad.
All right then. As it should be.
He sniffed the air for any trace of Angelus. All he smelled was...incense. Bittersweet and cloying. Oddly familiar. Ah yes! It was the kind the idol worshipping Catholics used at their Mass....He was taken aback again by his train of thought..he hadnt regarded that term in...about two hundred years.
< Essence... >
This was what Angels mind had conjured in response to the Essence Demon! Some sort of Catholic version of the afterlife.
< Bloody terrific. And me a Protestant. Well...was... >
Spike followed the scent down a long hallway; keenly aware that the smell of Angel...and his fear...was mingling with the pungent odor of incense. Angel was here. And Angel was afraid.
The last time Spike had caught that scent was when he crashed Sunnydale, and Buffys PTA extravaganza all those years ago. Angelus was in glorious game face, and bent over the trembling body of Xander. He had even offered Spike the first bite. He looked his old self. He sounded his old self. Cocksure and autocratic. But under the familiar smell of his Sire, had been..fear. Pure and simple. Noone but another immortal could have picked up on it. Actually, probably noone but Spike. It was the only way the blond vampire had recognized it was a trap.
Angel had not even smelled like fear when Spike had tried killing him...any of the times Spike had tried killing him. No. Torture and death were not what the souled vampire feared. That long ago night in the schoolhall, Angel had not been afraid of his own demise. Rather, he feared losing the mortals he had only begun to realize he cared for, more than he should. He had feared that with one slip, their deaths would fall on him.
Spike wondered briefly if Angel felt that rush of protective dread every time he fought with Buffy...< used to fight with Buffy >. Or, if perhaps, it had been the result of conflicting loyalties. If even then, somewhere deep inside, Angel knew he would not be able to stake his favorite Childe.
Another shrug of the black clad shoulders as he thought aloud, ::Thats rot, mate. If youd offed the Slayer that eve or any other youd have been talcum powder.::
Indeed, the rules had been established that first meeting, and further amplified every other thereafter. Come after me, we fight. The best man wins. Come after those I love, I kill you. Unspoken, certainly. But nonetheless true. And mutually understood.
So....what was it that Angel was afraid of now? Here, in what looked for all the world like an Altar Boys version of Paradise? Spike halfheartedly continued his futile attempts to place the tune he could not be rid of, and stalked the hallway in search of his Sire.
*****
The dark vampire cowered against the stone wall. His eyes were open, wild, and on the figure approaching him. But it was impossible to tell if the vampire was looking at the figure. At anything.
Slowly, as one would approach a wounded animal, one black tipped finger reached out. Touched a pale, tear-stained cheek. It was covered with some sort of smeared paint....Spike brought a smudged finger to the tip of his tongue...yes, paint, not blood. Striped across the nose and cheeks. Reminiscent of War Paint actually.
Spike frowned, and reached forward again. This time the vampire made some sort of movement to thwart the contact. The smaller man recognized it as merely some sort of instinctual flinch. Humans in deep comas do it in response to pain. Amebas do it in response to light. Beyond that small shirk, there had been nothing indicative of any sort of conciousness.
He caressed the cheek, and beheld as something was awakened in the dark eyes. Relief swept over him. Prematurely.
::Angel! Angel!:: Spikes voice was loud, insistent, purposefully ignorant of the panic he could see...could smell.
**Oh...its an angel** The crouching vampire cocked his head to one side, resembling more than anything, a puzzled dog.
A black angel. With wings that came from under his arms, and floated down about his legs. They lifted and swirled with each gesture, and every time he reached out to touch the vampire, it took away some of the hurting. That was nice.
The strange angel began to speak. The vampire watched as the angels lips moved, and he experienced sound for the first time in three hundred years. It hurt. As the noise continued, the vampire became aware that this particular type of sound used to mean something. But he had no idea what.
::Sire!::
Spike trembled. There was no response from Angel, beyond the blank stare of one who has been stripped of all......
< essence >
Spike felt himself growing cold with anger. This husk of a man before him was *not* Angel. He had never seen this person before, but it certainly was not his Sire. He had not come all the way here..< .wherever the hell here was > ....to rescue...*this*.
Roughly he hauled the larger man to his feet. He held onto Angels limp form by the front of his shirt, until he felt certain he was not going to slide back down the wall and onto the floor again. When he released his grip, Angel stood, motionless. A giant doll.
And suddenly Spike realized that if he had to look one more second at that vacant stare, he too was going to lose his fucking mind.
He shoved his Sire backward, and watched as Angel made no attempt to break his contact with the hard wall behind him. His head slammed into it first, then his shoulders, a sickening pair of dull thumps echoing down the long hallway. Spike thought he saw a slight wince flutter over the otherwise expressionless face, but it was gone too fast to be certain.
Spike lifted his fist toward the face which was doing such a poor impersonation of his Sire. ::Hey! Soulboy! Pay attention here!::
A single blink. A window, open for a mere instant. **Maybe hes not an angel. Sad.**
::Take off your shirt.:: was out of Spikes mouth before he could think about it. He had no idea if this creature would even be capable of obeying such an order. But once it was spoken, Spike knew if he was not able, he would follow through on the command hiimself.
Spike hid his amazement beneath a calm veneer as Angel reached up to obey the command. The white silk shirt fluttered to the ground, and the dark eyes of the silent vampire followed it; it looked like...
::Im up here!:: Rough hands on the chin, forcing a mutual gaze. ::You keep your eyes up here:: No reply. But again, the command was followed.
Spike slid out of his own coat and shirt, keeping his stare firmly locked with Angels. He had ceased thinking, and was now acting on undiluted instinct. ::Now the pants,:: he ordered coldly, and watched as Angel did as he was bidden.
** Can move now.. not tied up now...feels good...** Something was beginning to stir inside Angel. He had a sense that he was returning to someplace.. and maybe he should let the not-an-angel know that he was in here...but...he was afraid.
Spike knelt to remove his boots and socks, as Angel stood over him, silent, nude, still. He could have been the statue at last. Except no sculptor would have suffered to carve a face so completely void. Hurriedly, Spike stood, and shed his jeans.
Spike had been schooled by the master of this sport, and hed played both sides countless times. But he had never, not once in over two centuries, been on this end of the gun with Angel.
He had some vague notion of why he was doing this. Pain and sex to shut out the nauseating oblivion. It had always worked for him, personally. He assumed it worked on Angel as well. But it was the anger driving him, finally, and he was determined to make that work to his advantage.
::Get on your knees::. Impressive. Hed gotten that out without choking. All it took was some more frantic channeling of that bubbling rage. Thoughts of all he had lost. In the end, it was everything. Every single thing he had held....sacred.
Spike fancied himself a simple fellow. He loved one woman, he had one *hobby*, he respected one man, and there was only one individual he approached with any semblence of caution. Dru had walked out on him, he had been rooked of his ability to hunt, his Sire was a shattered remnant before him, and the Slayer was dead. The faultline he hadnt even known he was standing upon had crumbled without warning beneath his feet, and all that was left was a gaping hole of black earth.
He looked down, to see Angel kneeling there; the chocolate eyes gazing up at him, compliant still. Must have made quite the obedient submissive once upon a time. Though he doubted Angel had worn that role since Darla. And even then probably not for very long. Slayer notwithstanding. Spike had no doubt his Sire would have crawled across bottlecaps and broken glass to kiss her feet. The fury rose to a fevered taste in his throat.
Spike grabbed the back of the dark head, pushed it closer to his already over-aroused cock. ::Suck::. he managed, closing his eyes as he was instantly obeyed, and the wet, lush mouth of his Sire enfolded his cock in a solitary thrust.
Angel felt a precarious sense of safety return the second he tasted the familiar flavor of Spike. He didnt know it was Spike. But it tasted like sanctuary. Still, he had an appalling awareness that just on the other side of this calm was a shattering, ghastly place. It was best just to be very still, and try not to go there.
::Harder::, Spike gritted between clenched teeth. He felt the mouth tighten around his pulsing shaft, the tongue leap over the swollen head, the sucking intensify with each violent lunge of his hips. < oh yeah, musta made one helluva bottom >. It was only seconds before the mounting physical sensations completely eclipsed the surreal knowledge that Spike was for the first time, dominating his Sire. Well...sort of. To the extent one could dominate an inatimate object.
Damn!
Spike had never brooked half-assed. ::Enough:: he hissed, and immediately, the dark head was still. ::Look up here, dammit:: Calm, self assured voice. He surely had learned from the master. Unblinking eyes instantly met his own. Spike felt the wrath simmer; the blistering torrent swept through every vein in his dead body. He knelt down on the floor, nose to nose with the immobile Angel.
He felt the features of his human guise fall away, replaced by the ridges and sharp edges of his demon. Still, no reaction from the other man. He growled; a long, low, deep sound. He grabbed the broad shoulders before him, and shook, with enough force that the dark head lolled back and forth like a newborns. When the words at last began to fall from his lips, he scarcely recognized the harsh, guttaral voice as his own.
::Im not going to lose you again, do you hear me, you mother fucker!? Its not going to happen that way! Youre going to wake up and pay attention here! NOW!::
He slapped the calm face, hard enough to bruise the cheek. Another small flinch. ::Goddamn poof, DO SOMETHING!:: Another slap, to the other cheek, the once handsome face marred now by twin purple markings. ::FIGHT ME! DO ANYTHING!::
Nothing.
Spike reared his head back, and howled his frustration. Then in one glimmering moment he had tossed Angel back onto the hard floor. He lifted the long legs, and pinned them back over his shoulders. He looked once more into the dim eyes, hoping to find something there that would stay his hand.. but found only the same.
There was another moment, sharp and clear, when Spike realized he had ceased to consider this plan grotesque. If he ever really had....No, truthfully, it had been more the questionable.... etiquette of this situation which had caused his passing hesitation. This was, according to Vampire Lore, trespass on some holy ground. And, by rights, Angel could have him beheaded for it. But Angel wasnt here, now was he? And when was the last time Spike had given a flying fuck about undead legacy?
His Sire, cruel and underindulgent as he had been, had taught him many a valuable lesson about walking in darkness. Respect your Elders, but trust noone. Kill first, ask questions last. Guard your perimeter. Leather pants are a serious fashion risk..Ok, the last was unintentional.
But, in the end, there was a particular lesson which the younger vampire remembered all too well. If youre going to take command, do it unequivocally. To show indecision is to show fear. To show fear is the quickest way to become soup mix.
Spike kept his eyes locked with Angels as he tore open his own wrist, and coated his twitching cock with the spilt blood. Then he thrust forward with no regard for mercy. In one swift movement he was surrounded by the long coveted flesh. Tight, and warm, and soft...and the shock of it was very nearly his instant undoing.
He studied the face of the man beneath him, forcing himself to stay in the present, to stay aware. The eyes had closed , and that would not do. Spike brought a frim hand to the mans windpipe, and closed his fingers around it.
::I told you to keep your eyes open.:: the voice strained with lust barely held in check. The eyes once more flew open.
Still, Spike did not release his clutch on that neck. His blood covered fingers left slippery, crimson handprints on the alabaster skin, as he began to rock back and forth, using his grip on the older man to steady himself as he set a pace.
Spikes fangs cut into his own lips, the blood falling in droplets onto his Sires unmoving chest and stomach. He felt surprisingly calm. It was impossible to comprehend, really, that that horrible, desperate sounding voice was coming from him....
::Come back, come back, come back:: all the while, the hand tightened on Angels throat, and his cock slammed into his body.
Bruising, punishing, violating, desecrating.
Speaking in tongues. Mindless string of words offered as a prayer to anything that may listen to the prayers of demons. ::Not gonna lose you again not gonna lose you too kill you first you stupid sonofabitch how dare you do this to me now sodding selfish souled bastard wake the fuck up when i rape you::
Other bloody hand running over the inert body, pinching, probing, frantic for the smallest response. Finally, claiming the mouth with a beastial snarl, cleaving open red lips and eagerly swallowing the results.
((**A deeper caress. Fingertips lightly brushed over the gray flesh which had the texture of sandpaper, returned it to alabaster marble. Ran through the remaining strands of hair and it became thick silk. The angel kept speaking, as the same hands stroked atrophied muscles, and made them whole again.
Everywhere the touch fell, the body healed. This part was easy. The mind would take much longer. **))
Joined by the blood, Spike beheld this vision along with Angel, and recognized it for what it was. Angels last moments in Hell. He was being...regenerated... by some sort of creature that was made up entirely of light. Spike had no desire to acknowledge what that being was.
The smaller vampire pulled away from the brutal kiss, and offered his severed wrist to Angels mouth. Relief flooded through him as he watched the dark vampire suckle hungrily at the life giving blood.
((**The angel pressed its entire palm flat against the vampires mouth, and closed its eyes.**))
As the angel spoke the words, the vampire felt a tightening in his neck; his throat closed, then opened, and his first utterance after three centuries of isolation was a dreadful, soul shattering scream.
The angel dropped his hand. It was done.
*******************************************************
There is an ancient legend which tells of The Angel of Birth. It is said that while a child rests in its Mothers womb, he possesses all the knowledge in the Universe. But, at the moment before birth, this Angel comes to the child, and puts a finger to his lips. At that instant, the child forgets all things. Thus, he is born into this world a helpless infant.
In the moments the angel stood in Hell with the vampire, the knowledge was both given and revoked. The vampire was given memories of, and healed from his suffering in Hell.. He forgot it all as soon as the fingertips brushed his lips.
He would remember that he was. Who he was. What he was. All of his prior existence.
Regarding Hell, he would remember only that he had been. But he would have no recollection of a solitary moment from the time Buffy stabbed him in front of the awakened demon Acathala, until he awoke to find her standing over him, after what for him was five centuries later.
The memories that would have been too unspeakable to carry...the recollections that would simply not have allowed Angel to ....*be*....were gone.
***********************************************
Even in demonic form, Spike froze at the sound of the hideous scream. The truth occured to him. < No wonder hes gone round the effin bend...he never remembered any of this before >
The angel had taken it away. The angel who had whispered his name, and touched him gently....
The angel who had a death hold on his throat and was...chanting at him with a British accent....and was ......*fucking* him...?!
Angel blinked. Several times.
::Spike?!:: His voice was strange in his own ears. It hurt. Last thing he remembered, he had been in his apartment...and Spike had been tied to the ceiling, bleeding and... Ah, shit. Was this brand of instant Karmic retribution reserved only for immortals?
Spike nearly fell over backward in his speedy effort to disentangle himself from his Sire.
::Angelus...youre...you all right?::
Angel nodded slowly and sat up, sorting through the jumble of emotions pounding an erratic drumbeat within him. He was confused, tired, and sore, but mostly, he felt vaguely...dissatisfied. He realized suddenly where the last sprang from, as he watched the play of uncertainty and apprehension slither across his Childes features.
Spike was sitting several feet from him now, and eyeing him warily. :Spike::, he repeated, holding out his hand, and for the first time noticing the long, almost auburn locks. ::Will::, he smiled. ::Nice hair.:: He caressed the soft strands tenderly.
Spike felt a smirk tug at the corner of his mouth. ::Yea, well you oughtta see yourself. Looked like bloody Ghandi in drag. What with the makeup and all.::
Angels smile broadened. ::You got the same, little one. War Paint it looks like.::
Involuntarily, Spike shuddered at the invocation of the old pet name. It meant he was forgiven his trespasses. He touched his own face to find the same striped pattern Angel wore. ::Essence::, he murmured.
::What? Whos? What...do you mean?:: Angel looked at him expectantly.
::Essence Demon, thats what the Catalyst was made for. Youre hosting it. This...all this...is a manifestation of your fears, dreams, beliefs...your *Essence*.:: Spike clarified briefly. There was so much more to be explained, to be said, ...but he found he did not have the energy for details just yet. He felt... wholly drained. There was in fact, only one thing he wanted, but now, that was completely out of the question.
::So this isnt real then?:: Angel queried....obviously only more confused by Spikes attempt to simplify their situation.
Spike sighed. ::Dunno... It certainly felt real....:: the words unbidden, but deeply meant.
Angels gaze dropped to Spikes lap, and his still aroused member. He was making quite a chivalrous, if uncharacteristic, effort to hide his discomfort. But it was plainly visible.
::Why did you stop, then?:: Angel asked softly. Spikes blue eyes flew to his Sires face.
::Because...because...:: was all he could manage in reply to the unexpected question....
< Invitation? >
::Come here, Will.:: the voice gentle, certain. Irresistible.
Then he was in his Sires lap, and a pair strong hands held him firmly in place, as if worried he might once more slip away. ::Finish what you started, Will.:: the words whispered against his mouth, as the tip of a pink tongue probed the moist depths.
Spikes mind spun with the implications. There was nothing on earth, heaven *or* hell he wanted more at this second than to bury himself deep inside of Angel again. This time he would not stop; oh no, this time he would fuck the man until his eyes popped out of his head. But something gave him pause. Aware that Angel now recalled everything that had happened, in the apartment, and in Hell, he wanted no portion of further torturing the vampire.
::I dont want to be your instrument of punishment, Angel. If this is some sort of bizarre form of self-flagillation, I dont want any part of that....:: Spike said quietly, then regretted the words instantly as a pained look crossed his Sires face.
Angel took a breath. ::Thats not it, Will. I just....I just want to do this with you.....for you...And...I want something to replace those memories...can you do that for me? Would you? P-please.::
It was the final falter that did him in. The wavering in the voice that generally would do no such thing. In answer, he lay Angels unprotesting body once more down upon the hard surface of the cool, marble floor.
Spike began his ministrations on the sensitive neck, nibbling easily, not even drawing blood, leaving a trail of only kisses down the now panting chest, onto the firm abdomen, and lastly the parted thighs. Angel moaned softly, once, when Spike took his cock into his throat, then again was silent as the head above him began to move up and down over his aching shaft.
Spike held his Sires cock firmly at the base, and swallowed the remaining flesh to the back of his throat. Angel hearkened back to when they had first made love in this incarnation, mere weeks ago. He had had this same sense of being ..adored ...worshipped. It was intoxicating. It made him want to weep.
It wasnt what he wanted.
::William::::, he began...and the slippery mouth on his pulsing shaft stilled. He pulled at the dark head, searched for the cobalt eyes; then his voice was measured, careful.
::Fuck me::.
He watched with a tiny bit of amusement as the smaller man swallowed, hard, and without a sound.
Then there were fangs on the softest part of his belly, and blood spurting first into the eager mouth, and then a pair of shaky hands rubbed the liquid over every part his lower body. Those same hands once again coated the ample cock which strained between his parted legs. Spike had needed no prelude to be ready for this.
Angel had no time to wonder if he was going to have to make the request more than twice. Spike filled him completely with one swift movement, just as he had earlier. Only this time, Angel had the benefit of being an active participant. He thrust his hips forward to meet the inital stroke, and the vampires groaned in unison as the illustrious coils of pleasure tugged them together, then apart.
Angel watched in awe as William set a quick pace, his face a shivering visage of human-demon hybrid. Angel surmised his own face looked similar, and wondered mindlessly how their *Essences* included their beasts....
< You think too much > Angel heard inside the blood rush, and he grinned up at his lover. < Gonna fix that� > he heard then. And moaned in ecstasy as the thrusting found his most sensitive spot, and centered there....forcing him higher and higher...until there was no thought, no memories, nothing but the rapture of being whole again and mindless fucking.
His screams of pleasure did the most delightful dance along these walls, Will thought, until he realized he was screaming too.
When he finally collapsed across Angel in a sated and sweaty heap, he realized something else. He had been afraid of commiting this act. But no lightening had struck him down. No grand paradgim shift had occured They were still...who they were. Spike still recognized the Sire in this relationship. Angels choice to submit to him, to give himself over willingly and completely, had been just that, a choice. If anything, it served to heighten their connection. He had lost nothing.
Spike wasnt aware he was trembling until Angel reached an arm across to still him. Without words, he understood. ::Youre not going to lose me, Will. Not now, not ever.::
Spike just nodded, and rested his head across his Sires chest. They were in the initial twilight of slumber, when they heard the song. Spike recognized it now...the one that had haunted him since his arrival into Angelbrain-land.
+++
Playmate, come out and play with me
And bring your dolly three
Climb up my apple tree
Slide down my rainbow
Into my cellar door
And well be jolly friends
Forevermore
+++
It was a song hed heard daily for over a century. It was a song hed heard when he took the virginity of the only woman he ever considered giving his heart to. Literally, and on a platter, if shed asked.
Angel recognized it too, and both vampires sat up with lightening speed, as the sweet voice singing the lyrics seemed to draw closer to the spot where they lay.
Then she was standing above them, and shaking her finger. ::Naughty, boys. You started without me!::
The men opened their mouths in unison.
::Druscilla.::
*****
Part 11:
The group descended upon Angel investigations at twilight, piling out of a pair of cars laden with heavy books, a plethora of spell ingredients, and enough weapons to annex a small middle eastern nation. Giles just hoped it would be enough to conquer the demon that had felled Angel.
Cordelia unlocked the front door to the office, and escorted the five others to the elevator leading to Angels apartment. A witch, an ex-vengence demon, a pair of Watchers, the seer, and....Xander. Varied and sundry lot. Pretty much Angels only hope, besides the neutered vampire who was currently nowhere to be seen.
As the elevator groaned its slow descent, the humans exchanged worried glances. The noises echoing from the vampires apartment were...
::Good lord::, Giles whispered, pulling open the chain door and stepping one foot out of the small cage which opened directly into Angels foyer. He sprang back almost immediately, throwing his arms behind him to keep the rest of the group inside as well.
::What is it Giles?:: Wesley asked worriedly, his concern for his employer and friend growing by leaps and bounds as the unearthly sounds rose into the night air, followed by crashes and thuds which sounded mostly like....
::Some sort of tornado::, Cordelia stated, peering her head around Giles shoulder to stare into the apartment. Objects and furniture were being flung wildly about by an unseen hand, landing in shattered pieces on the floor, only to be picked up and careened about once more.
Willow cast her glance over the Watchers other shoulder. ::No,:: the red haired witch asserted, ::its the result of some kind of disturbance created by the Essence Demon. Its a manifestation of some sort...::
::Indeed,:: agreed the older watcher, adding, ::Fascinating.::
Xander spoke up with the pressing issue. ::Yea, its got a great beat and you can dance to it, I give it a 9. But, *hello*? How are we going to get off this elevator without getting killed by an unidentified flying toaster oven?::
::Willow, can you perform some sort of spell to stop... this?:: Wesley queried, gesturing with his hand to indicate the bizarre spinning motion of the front room and all its contents.
::I dont think so, :: replied the witch, ::Id have to know the exact cause of it to stop it completely...but...I think I can do a temporary spell...so we can get in and get Angel out of there...flying wood no good for vamps and all...::
::Not so good for humans either, Wills::, Xander commented dryly.
But Willow was already chanting, softly and intently, her arms raised over her head in supplication. Noone but Giles understood the words, but whatever they were, they were having an obvious effect on the state of affairs in the vampires lair. The howling noise increased, roared through the apartment like a living being, and sent a chilling wind into the elevator, directly into the face of the witch. Willows hair blew about wildly, her skirt billowed around her legs. Still she kept chanting, knowing that she was angering something with her words, and that to back down now would be to admit a defeat which equaled certain disaster. Her prayer grew louder, as if in battle with the cacaphonous force.
Then, silence.
Everything was still. The mortals could hear only the sounds of their own breathing.
Cautiously, deliberately, Giles stepped first off the elevator. Looking around, he saw that eveything had frozen in place, including numerous objects which were suspended in mid-air. He carefully made his way around half broken pieces of furniture which dangled in front of his eyes, and searched for either vampire. Having no luck, he called for the others to join him. ::Be careful::, he admonished them, needlessly.
Cordelia was behind him in an instant. ::Damn! My computer!:: She moaned as she saw the smoking heap of twisted metal which had once been her beloved MAC. :: I had AOL set up with all my favorite places...every decent hairdresser and spa in LA!::
Willow whispered fervently to the older Watcher,:: We need to hurry, I dont know how long this calm will last. Something was working against me during the casting, its only a matter of time before it overcomes my spell.::
Giles nodded. ::Lets just find Angel and take him someplace safe, then we can work on undoing whatever has been done.::
Xander quickly agreed. He had nearly been skewered at the entrance to the kitchen by a swinging axe, perched precariously at the level of his head . ::Couldnt Angel just collect stamps like normal people?:: he muttered, noting unhappily the amount of weaponry which threatened, at any moment, to resume its crazy space dance.
A shrill scream stopped his train of thought. Following the sound, the group staggered around the obstacle course created by broken and dangling furniture and sharp objects, and made their way into the bedroom. Willow brought a hand to her mouth, and Xander choked back the gag which threatened. The sight was disturbing, even for a group as experienced in mayhem as the six gathered here.
Angels room was completely saturated in dried blood. It looked as if someone had literally painted the walls scarlet. Which wouldnt have explained the red caked on the coverlets, the floor, and similarly, all the smashed furnishings. Eveything in the room was smashed to unrecognizable, crimson tainted bits. The only thing which remained seemingly untouched, albeit also blood covered, was the four post bed.
::Cordelia...step away...:, Wesley instructed, ::this is no place for..:.. he trailed off as she shot him a hard look. There was also the fact that she didnt seem particularly upset about the new crimson decor. Rather, her eyes were focused firmly on the bed, and the shadowy figures upon it, barely visible in the dim light of the apartment.
::What, you think I was screaming over a little blood?:: At the others stares, she modified, ::All right. Alot of blood. But no....its *that!*.::
She pointed toward the bed to clarify. ::Thats Angel there...and...SPIKE! Spikes killed him!!::
Giles was about to point out the obvious...that fleshy vampire bodies equal living vampire bodies, when it dawned on Cordelia as well. ::Ok! Ok! Obviously he hasnt killed him yet, cause..cause everythings frozen! But hes about to! Look! I mean what else would ...they....be.......do--...::
Five heads swiveled, ten eyebrows rasied. Giles cleared his throat.
The older Watcher was the first to approach the immobile pair, sidestepping the array of knives and swords which hovered dangerously above him. He reached out gingerly, and pulled back the soiled coverlet. ::Ah, well, yes....not killing him, then.:: He quickly replaced the quilt.
::It does present us with a spot of a dillemma though::, mused the smaller Watcher.
::What? That Deadboy swings both ways? Cause, yea. Color me surprised.:: Xander stated with a sarcastic grin.
::Er...quite...:: , began Giles, ::but, no...No the problem is that we cannot move them.::
::Because youre afraid to touch a naked vampire? Ill do it!:: Anya volunteered, speaking up for the first time since entering the apartment. Xander shot her a look that would have cowed...anyone but Anya.
::No,:: Wesley explained. ::We cannot move them because they are joined --::
::EWW!!:: a mutual battlecry.
::Not *that* kind of joined. Their conciousness is linked. Apparantly, when Spike began to feed off of Angel he linked with him. We have no idea what would happen if we attempted to break the circle...::
::Circle!:: shouted Willow. ::Ok, thats it! We need to cast a circle! Now! Here! Before the cease and desist spell breaks!::
With that cue, the room began to vibrate once more, and the ghastly howling began. Objects flew about first randomly, then began an orbit around the heads of the onlookers. Cordelia ducked an alarm clock, and a pair of hairbrushes narrowly missed Xanders skull. He was nonplussed. ::So, anyone else here thinking all we need now is a midget and Carol Anne?::
He was grabbed by several pairs of hands and drawn into the formation of a circle. ::Wait!:: Wesley shouted above the growing din ::We have to put them in the middle first! Once its cast, they can not get in.::
Willow nodded; the Watcher was right. Once the sacred circle was cast, it would act as any religious object, and repel the vampires entrance. They needed to be safely inside of it before the spell could begin.
::So I get to move the naked vampires?!:: Anya clasped her hands together gleefully.
Ignoring the last, the men hurriedly crossed the room to the bed, and moved it far enough away from the wall so that the circle could be formed around it. Giles glanced down at the floor, and spied the small green stone, laying untouched in the wreckage. He tossed it to Wesley, who quickly placed it in his pocket. Tasks completed, Giles and Willow led the casting of the circle around the vampires and all the mortals gathered.
The job proved more difficult than any expected. As the young witch had asscertained earlier, some force was definately working against the groups majik. It took all of her energy to draw on the protection of the entities she summoned, and to conjure the sacred space with their assistance. When the deed was at last done, she fell to her knees, panting.
::Giles, that was too hard::, she huffed, clutching at her chest. ::It shouldnt have been that hard.:: The Watcher nodded, and looked around at the still careening room. Nothing breached the sacred space they had just created.
::Indeed,:: he agreed, ::but it does look as though we are all safe here, for the time being anyway. ::
::Still, we should work as quickly as possible to undo this Essence Demon. I dont like the...what shall I call it...something about the way this place *feels*? :: Wesley asked.
Xander finished for him. ::Vibes, man. Its got really really creepy vibes. And surprisingly enough, its not just from the gay vampire orgy.::
Anya placed a hand on his broad shoulder. ::Xander, you know Ive told you several times that an orgy is *more* than two --::
Giles cut her off. ::And now for something completely less nauseating. Lets begin hitting the books, shall we?::
Soon, all were deeply immersed enough in their research that they were oblivious to the wail of the Essence Demon. None would admit it, but ignoring the naked pair of vampires took a wee bit longer.
*****
Part 12:
Angel hastily donned his trousers. ::Dru....:: he whispered again...eyeing her warily. He could feel his hackles rising. It was more than just the affirmation of his suspicions, that it was her workings indeed which had sent him here. No....there was something else...Something wasnt.....he couldnt put his fnger on it.
There was nothing overtly disturbing in her appearance. She was dressed in simple, timeless clothes. It was impossible to determine the century of origin for the floorlength, ivory colored shift. She wore no makeup, and her scent was barely discernable.
Angel was disturbed.
Spike however, was apparantly oblivious to any deeper meanings or incongruencies. He jumped like a puppy in a cage at the sight of her, and, still nude, grabbed her, spinning her round and round in the air. ::Dru!!:: he shouted, hearing his own voice skip back toward them over and over.
He dropped her to her feet, suddenly, disgraced and disgusted at his own display. Angel clearly heard his thoughts, directed at his Sire < Too much fucking time with the poof, got me soft...Was a time Id be beating her ass to a bloody pulp for leaving me.... >
Druscilla may not have heard the words, but the intent was clear in his eyes, which had already shifted from cobalt to yellow. She wisely backed away a few inches.
::Angel?:: she whispered. ::Not happy to see me?::
Angel winced at the look of fury further emenating from Spike. This was a centuries old game, and he was bone weary of it. ::Not as happy as Spike, Im certain.::
Spike growled at the effort to maintain peace. ::I dont need your soddin help, Angelus::, he spat, and donned his own clothes.
Angel sent Druscilla a pleading look. Catching it, she walked over to the younger vampire. ::I missed you, my Spike.:: she purred, stroking his hair. The dark vampire watched his Childer, and again, was struck by the fact that *something* was amiss.
She pulled the younger mans head back with a fistful of auburn hair, and slipped her tongue into his mouth, open to protest the invasion. Angel watched as Spikes tension and resolve began to melt under her delibrate attentions. After mere moments of her soft, pink tongue skittering over his canines and palate, Spike at last surrendered. He held Druscilla in a bone crushing embrace, and returned her kiss with a passion born of a hundred years of foreplay. Angel turned his head and finished dressing.
Still, he could not shake the gnawing feeling.
**Why werent we able to communicate when we remembered the time with her, Spike? I was talking to you when we went back to our time alone together.** Angel left his mind open, made his thoughts available to his male Childe. Though he had no idea if Spike was paying enough attention now to hear them. Or care. Or, for that matter, if Druscilla could hear him too....**And how did she get here...even if she is the Caster, why show up here*...if shes... really here...and Ok, where the hell IS here!?**
Spike resentfully tore his mouth away from that of his dark wench. His reply was also soundless, but Angel heard it...clearly. < For chrisskake, Angelus, you could ruin a wet dream, you know that?! How the hell should I know? I told you we are in YOUR poofy head! You figure it out! But wait til Im good and done before you play twenty questions with Dru! > There were further mental grumblings at the end of the silent tirade, but Angel ignored them, standing uncomfortably, near the once more distracted lovers.
Hearing a squeal and a moan, he turned around. ::Ok, look, *later* you two. Im not gonna stand here while....:: Angel stopped when he saw the look on Spikes face. It was painfully familiar, and it tore a hole in his chest the size of a mans fist. His erstwhile lover had spun to face him now, and was staring at him with something akin to loathing in his sapphire eyes. And he was trembling, fists clenched at his sides in a futile effort to control his fury.
::Oh you dont want to wait around while Druscilla and I get *re-united* do you? Is that bleedin right? Goddamn self centered ass. Let me count the times I stood --::
Angel knew where this was leading, and as much as he knew Spike was completely accurate and justified in his analysis, and his rage, he still couldnt shake the sense that something was....** Oh, **shit** **
He looked at Druscilla. She had cut her hair into a bob, and the curls framed her ivory face, giving her the appearance of innocence on wings. Her face was flushed with Spikes kisses, her lips full, and parted. She was panting a bit. He looked into the green eyes he had seen every day for a lifetime, but never let himself get lost inside of. They were...clearer somehow. And suddenly, he knew.
She gasped, and the back of her hand covered her small mouth. She shook her head wildy from side to side. Her thoughts slammed into his brain, unbidden. Another fist to his chest.
##Dont tell him, Angel. Dont tell him##
Angel let out a small breath, and shot back **Then you do it, Druscilla. Quickly.**
In the fraction of the second this silent exchange took, the ex-blond vampire had grown silent, watching the two with eyes now tinted gold. ::FUCK THIS!:: He shouted, and began to stomp away; murderous gleam in those eyes, noone to take the hatred out on....
::Spike.:: Her soft voice, small hand on his hunched shoulder. He brushed it away. ::Leave me alone, Dru. Go fuck him.::
::Will...:: Angel started, only to be met once more by that lethal glare. It knocked the wind out of him more effectively than a two by four.
::Spike, my Spike,:: she cooed again, ::look at me, love. Please...turn around and look at me.:: As always, his face retained the last vestiges of its human guise when he turned to look at her. It was never anything but. He could never do anything but...love her. Even if she could never return the favor.
She cupped his chin in her hands. ::I need to tell you something.:: she began. And suddenly it dawned on him that she was pretty damned coherent. That she was using full sentences and they were all actually topic related. That she hadnt once mentioned the moon or Miss Edith or any of the other nonsensical things she....:::Oh god, Dru...Oh no...::, he dropped to his knees before her and buried his face in her skirts.
::Its ok, my love. Im all right now. Its all going to be all right. Its not so bad, really. Its not what I thought at all....not what any of us thought, now is it?:: She smoothed back his long locks and petted him lovingly. ::Hush now::.
Angels voice, strained with emotion under heavy guard broke the trance, ::So its true then, Dru?::
She nodded sadly, and Spike looked up at her. Angel was grateful, selfishly grateful, that he couldnt see Williams face when she at last confessed it.
::Yes, its true.::, she whispered, finally, ::Im dead.::
*****
Part 13:
Los Angeles
::Resolution!:: Wesley shouted suddenly, bolting upright from what had been a sound slumber.
::Its not New Years, Wes, ::Cordelia mumbled, still in the dream state herself.
::No! The stone! The stone is for resolution! Thats its purpose. Thats what it was sent for.:: The Watcher asserted loudly, flipping wildly through an ancient tome to the page which would prove him correct. When he found it, he pointed the paragraph out to Giles.
::Yes,:: Giles began, replacing his glasses. ::Yes, youre right, that does appear to be our stone .......and our demons purpose is to resolve deep seated issues...::
Xander interrupted ::Sorta like group therapy for vampires? Hello, my name is William the Bloody and Im a death-o-holic. Great! Love you Will!:: .
GIles shook his head non-comitally. ::Actually, rather like that, yes. Whoever comes in physical contact with the stone will need to...oh dear...::
::I hate it when you do that. Dont you hate it when he does that?:: Xander spoke up.
::Well, weve come in contact with it,:: Giles stated. ::Which means we are going to be involved in Angels...resolution. And possibly Spikes....::
Cordelia sniffed. ::Personally, I vote good. I think a little collective guilt is good for the conscience.::
Xander looked annoyed at the implication, but Willow nodded. ::Shes right, Xand. Its not like we havent had our...issues with Angel. And you know...Buffy would want us to resolve them::
The group was silent. They had gone almost a whole twenty-four hours without mentioning the Slayer. Speaking her name now, the shock and pain of the loss was once more a physical presence among them.
::Resolution indeed::, Giles thought silently.
***********************************************
Elsewhere.....
Druscilla sat in Spikes lap, his long arms about her waist, her dark head resting on his shoulder. Angel watched them; silent, from a distance. Spike was whispering something in her ear, and she was smiling. Then she turned her face toward him, and he grabbed her tiny face in his hands, and kissed her, long and deliberately, and a deep moan rose from the males chest...And it could have been a century ago. It never ceased to amaze the dark vampire. Every time he was certain there was no part left of his heart to break. Unlife was just full of these jovial little surprises. Blessed be those fucking gypsies.
Angel walked slowly over to the couple, and knelt down. He was struck by the surreal sense of genuflecting before the Virgin, suddenly, and had to shake his head to clear the strange feeling of dejavu.
::Excuse us a moment, Dru?:: Angel gestured for Spike to follow him as he walked a few paces away. Spike scowled at him, but nonetheless did as he was bidden.
::What the fuck is your - - , :: began the smaller vampire, but Angels hand across his mouth effectively silenced him. The urge to bite down on the smooth palm was obvious in Spikes enraged expression.
**In here. Silently. Dont speak it.** Angel sent him the soundless message, without removing the offending hand.
< She can hear us anyway, you know, and let go of my bloody face, idiot! > Furious. But silent as requested.
**No, she can only hear you. So just do as I say, and answer my questions with a yes or a no only.**
< Yea? You want me to lick your goddamn boots too, Master? >
Angel grimaced , and reflexively he tightened his grip around the smaller mans mouth. Spikes eyes went yellow with anger, and Angel felt the fangs begin to tease the skin of his hand. Angels gaze flashed gold in response. For a moment, they stood, tense and unmoving.
The dark vampire blinked first; his grasp loosened. ::Im sorry,:: he said, aloud. For both vampires to hear.
Then, he bent his head and covered Spikes lips with his own. The kiss was gentle, hesitant, and it made the younger mans toes curl inside his boots. Then the voice in his brain.
**I know this makes you uncomfortable, the conflicting loyalties...Can you just trust me? Humor me?**
Spike stiffened in Angels grasp. < Im not some soddin wench, Angelus. You dont just kiss me and think you can do whatever the hell you want. >
The kiss deepened, Angels tongue dueling briefly with the other vampires, before straying over his teeth, licking the smooth, shiny surfaces. Angel sliced his own tongue on one sharp point, and thrust the blood covered tip deep into Spikes throat. The smaller vampire was undone by the blatantly submissive gesture. He tightened his hold around Angels waist, and sucked on his tongue until the dark man whimpered in pain.
Satisfied, Spike sent him a mental grin. < Good. Now. What?>
Angel growled half heartedly and broke the kiss. **Are you certain none of this is physically real?**
< Yes. >
A brief smile of gratitude at the obedient monosyllabic reply. Small sneer in return, but Angel thought that maybe it covered a reluctant grin.
< Fat chance. >
Ignoring the last, **Our physical selves are still inside my apartment?**
< Yes. >
**You joined me here....on purpose?**
< Yes. >
**You have more information to tell me about the stone?**
< Yes. >
**You know how to get back to our bodies?**
< No. >
**Shit.**
< Yes. >
A grin now. Matched.
**Anything else I need to know now?**
< Yes. > Then silence. Angel frowned.
< Well? You want to play charades with it or can I just tell you?! >
Another smirk from the taller man. **You play charades?**
< Yea, wanna see a gesture that means bugger off? >
**Just go ahead and tell me.**
Angels eyes widened. **Nice call, Will**
< Im brighter than you give me credit for. We done now? >
::No,:: Angel whispered, and bent his head once more to touch Spikes mouth with his. He merely brushed his lips back and forth across the younger mans several times, until he felt Spike arch, pushing forward to deepen the connection. He obliged eagerly, plundering the willing mouth with a kiss that was more than enough message in itself.
*****