"How do you feel, Angel?"

The vampire....ex vampire, moaned at the British honeyed words. He tried to move, but the firm weight of his vampire captor, kept him pinned down.

Angel blinked, as he felt what was going on with his body...and a shard of fear lanced through him, making him shiver convulsively.

"I know I like it. God, I love it!" The words were drawn out in Angel's head, a sarcastic, lusty punctuation, to what was happening to him now. Spike...William the bloody as he'd once been called in mockery, pressed himself close to his now human prisoner, and his body pistoned into Angel's. Hard, deep, and getting faster.

*Oh, God* Spike was raping him again, and this time, Angel hadn't even noticed when it had begun. Dully, he felt his body being pounded into, as he laid on the bed that was his prison. He could feel Spikes bare legs against the side of his body and strong hands kneading his human flesh. The idea, and realization, that Spike must be naked, reached into his brain, almost making him giggle with a rising delirium, but then, a wave a dizziness rolled over him, and all Angel wanted, was for the darkness to return.

Spike paused, buried as far as he could manage, and he brought a slender fag to satisfied lips. "I love fucking you! God, I love it!" He exhaled, and the smoke blew away in indifference. "I bet you never thought this would happen, did ya? I know I never did."

Angel stifled a moan as his grand childe, resumed his thrusting. He could tell a climax was near and he didn't know if he welcomed it or feared what would happen next. Angel closed his eyes, and waited.

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

Another vision, and Doyle knew that their boss was in very real danger. What exactly, he didn't know. He just knew that something had to be done.

Walking briskly down the bright streets of LA, it was almost too easy to forget the evil that lurked so close. *Festering*, as he'd heard someone once say. There was a lot of good too, though, if you only knew where to look, and Doyle had looked, long and hard. Both, for himself,and for those he held dear. But what good did that do him now? Now, there were other things that needed to be done. Namely, finding, Angel.

The half demon paused and realized he didn't even know where he was headed. As usual, the only thing solid that he'd gotten from the vision, was a mind splitting headache, and a handful of confusing images. Cordelia had dutifully handed him a drink, and she had done her best to offer solutions, but finally, Doyle had needed to get out, and see what he could stumble on to.

Briefly, he thought about his ex-lover and sometimes friend. It made him numb and scared and ill...but it was the last person who he knew Angel might have talked to...and the one person who made Doyle so crazy with want and need sometimes, that he just couldn't think. And the funny thing was, he couldn't even really explain it. He couldn't explain why he became so frantic when the other refused to talk to him. All he knew was, Mitzi had been there to listen to him. Mitzi knew Doyle's secret, and had kept it. He had encouraged the half demon to give up some of his more destructive habits, though only a few knew of their nature. Most of all, Mitzi had made him feel like a real person, when he needed it most, and that was worth more than anything that Doyle could think of, or even begin to name.

"Bloody fucking..." Doyle stopped and across the street, he could see Mitzi's bar. So easy to just go over. So easy to stand by the glass and just maybe catch a certain person's eyes. Hell, maybe things could be worked out. Somehow...maybe. There would be a fight, sure, but somewhere, in the harsh words, an apology could slip out, and then it would be like old times and everything would be good. They'd find Angel, solve the mystery of his latest vision, and all end up on the floor, in a drunken puddle of blissful sexual release.

"Good one, Doyle." He closed his eyes and concentrated on the girl he had seen in his vision. He tried to see the dark clad stranger again and then focused on the tiny, though intense scene, he had witnessed with their boss in it.

"Spike?" Who was that? Doyle shivered, as the answer came to him. The one who had shown up, looking for a ring. The one who Angel had said, buried red hot pokers in his flesh, over and over again, in the search for that same said artifact. A very dangerous vampire, to put it bluntly, and he was in total control of Angel, at this very moment. "Dear,Lord." He knew it without a doubt. Angel was in danger of dying.

Giving one last glance toward the glass windowed front, Doyle sighed as he forced himself away. He had to think. He had to figure out if he wanted to go to Mitzi because he thought the other would have answers, or...and more importantly, just because he wanted to see his ex-lover so much, that it burned him to his very center, with an icy touch of dread.

The oracles. It was the only choice he had left. If they didn't know...then he would have to come back...maybe. He didn't know. "Hang in there, Angel," he whispered under his breath. "I'm doing the best that I can," and with those words, the very confused half demon headed off in a new direction, hoping to find answers to what he needed to know.

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

Spike was pleased with himself, to say the least. Sod the reasons it had happened. Maybe someone up there, just liked him, or maybe it was just good old Sunnyhell *luck* on his side, for one bleeding time, since he'd come here. In any case, this was the best day, he'd had in a long time, and that was saying something. Angel, tied, though not gagged, and being shagged rotten by his very own grand childe. The blond couldn't be happier. No doubt about it. This was just a very good day, and this was just the beginning.

*****
TBC...