*****

I gotta get some grout or maybe some concrete. Something to fill in the holes, Spike thought, watching sunlight filter through the edges of his crypt door.

Angel rolled over, startling Spike out of his thoughts; he'd forgotten about him. Shit! It's effin daylight and the poof is *still* here!

"I *usually* spend these hours with my Buffy, ya know, Sire." Spike mumbled.

"What?" Angel's voice sounded startled too. Spike grinned. Maybe the sod had forgotten about *him*. Lost in his guilt, the poor dear. Too damn bad. This was *his* place.

"Yeah. Me an *my* Buff snuggle up and sleep the day away." Spike huffed.

"*What*?"

Spike tisked, sucking in a breath through his teeth. "*My* Buff. The pretty little corpse beneath us? The one dressed in the pearls that I *sleep* with? Buffy? We *sleep* now. Daytime. Sleepytime for us. Do you need a blanket? Cover so's ya can make it back to yer car? I've got some good an' heavy army issue blankets. You'll be fine. Where's yer car parked at anyway? I'm sure you can make it jus' fine."

Angel chuckled. "I think I'll stay here. At *least* until sun down, Spike."

Spike sat up. "You think? 'Cause you're not bloody well *welcome*! Go *home*, Angel."

Angel smiled and reached out a hand to run over Spike's hair. Spike pulled away. "It's *daylight*. I can't very well go anywhere." Angel reasoned.

"*Yes* you can! I do it all the time! Just cover up and *run*! Do' ya need spray paint for the windows? Cause I've plenty."

"You are *not* spray painting the windows of my car, Spike! It's a classic! And my car is a convertible, Spike! One that I drive with the top *down*. Hence the necessity of me driving at *night*. What? You can't spend a *day* with me?"

Spike went in search of his trousers. He found some jeans and pulled them on. "No! No, I *can't* spend a day with you! I don't *wan't* to spend a day with you!" Spike zipped and buttoned up, turning to glare at his Sire. His *fucking* Sire. Still here in his soddin' *home*. He glared at Angel, narrowing his eyes. "Go *home*!" Spike began pacing around the small confines of his crypt. His crypt made even smaller by the looming presence of his Sire.

Angel glared at his childe. "Just what was last night about?" Angel demanded, sounding like some just-got-her-feelings-hurt-little-dozy-mare to Spike.

Spike threw his arms in the air, disgusted. "It was 'bout *shagging*! It was about *me* shaggin' *you*! Jezzus, hell, peaches! I don' wanna spend *time* with you! I don't *like* you, Angel!" Spike stopped pacing to glare at Angle. "It wasn't about tryin' to rebuilding a friggin' *relationship* with you! I'd be just as 'appy *fucking* yer guts as I would be dancin' in 'em if some lucky sod had sliced ya open an' they spilled out on to the bloody floor!" Spike yelled at Angel, fed up with being in the same room with his Sire. Shagging the poof he could handle; having a bloody conversation with the poof was beyond him.

Angel just smiled at him. "We need to make this better, Spike. You're mad at me, I can tell." Angel stated, sitting up.

Spike growled, staring at his Sire. "Yer as bloody effin off yer rocker as the Angel-what-fucked-the slayer-Angelus was!"

Angle gave Spike a hurt look. "Spike." He began in a soothing tone. The soothing tone made Spike grind his teeth together. "I know I hurt you. I'm sorry for that. We can start over." Angel offered a smile.

"WHO THE BLOODY FUCK *ARE* YOU? AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH ANGEL?!"

"Spike." Angel gave another hurt look. "I think we just need to talk."

Spike laughed. The fall against the wall and clutch at your sides kind of laughter over took the bleached blonde.

"Sire! *Angel*! We don't need to *talk*! We need to shag or fight! That's all we have! That's all we *want*! You don't like *me* any more'n I like *you*! Has yer bloody curse gone off again? Gone off *wrong*?!"

"My curse is fine." Angle stated calmly.

"I don't think it is!" Spike told him, picking up Angel's clothes and tossing them at him. "Put yer clothes on!"

Angel caught the clothes but made no move to dress. "I'm not happy with the animosity between us, Spike. It's not right that you be so angry with me. That we be so angry with each *other*."

"Yer not bloody happy with *any*thing, ya sod! Why should you be happy with *us*?!"

"You are *cute* when you're mad, Spike." Angel smiled at him.

Spike growled and kicked the wall. He stalked across the crypt and sat in the corner furthest from his Sire. He glowered at Angel. "I'm bloody well cute no matter what I am! I'm friggin' *gorgeous*! Always have been. That's neither here nor there! *Here* is where I want ta' be. *There* is where I want *you* ta be! Go *home*!"

"Okay. You want me to go. I can't go. We are stuck here together until sundown. What shall we do? Hum? I say we *talk*. Get our feelings out in the open. Try to heal our rift. We *mean* something to each other, Spike. Let's work on that."

Spike dropped his head to his knees and laughed. It was either laugh or cry and he bloody well was *not* going to let the poof see him cry! Hell no! Spike knew, deep in his undead heart, the poof would see tears as a bleedin' "break through" and wanna *talk* about it.

He rocked his head against his knees and ignored the tear that ran down his cheek.

How wrong was it to kill your Sire, *really*? He'd never known a childe that had done it save for Angel, and Angel had done it to save his little slayer-bitch, *plus* he had been working for the good guys. Whoever the frick *they* were.

"What *really* happens when you kill your Sire?" Spike asked, not looking up.

Angel smiled. "You go strait to hell. Only *worse*. Doesn't really matter to *you*, Spike. I'm stronger than you *and* I'm a better fighter than you. You can't seem to fight *and* think. You won't be able to kill me. Why? Do you want to kill me? Really? Is that what you want? To kill me?"

"Yes! I want you to shut the fuck up! Killin' ya seems to be the only way! If you'd just go *home* we'd be all good and *healthy* and I'd be happy, ya sod! You leave. I stay home. Everyone is alive-as can be-and we all stay happy! Sounds great to me!"

"Come here, Spike."

Spike looked up. His Sire lay on *his* stone coffin smiling down at him, looking like a fucking angel. The friggin' *sod*. Spike turned away, facing the wall once again. "No. If you don't wanna leave until sundown, fine. Stay. I don't care. But *I'm* gonna *sleep*, ya prick!"

"Don't be like this, Spike. We need to talk."

"No! *NO*! We *don't*!" Spike rose and launched him self at his Sire, going for his throat. Angel held him off without any problems. Spike kept his hands at his Sire's throat and sank his fangs into his Sire's shoulder.

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" The younger vampire chanted as he tried to rip Angel's throat out.

Angel just chuckled, holding him off. "Spike. Spike! God damn it, Spike! Stop it!" Angel thrust him away.

Spike fell to the ground, sobbing and laughing. "I hate you, Sire. I *hate* you."

"I know you do, Childe. You shouldn't. You *can't*. Not really."

Spike's head shot up. "Yes I can! I *can*! Yer *nuts* ya shit! Yer effin *nuts*! I don't wanna be like you, Sire. I'm *not* like you! I *can't* be like you! I can't live like you!"

Angel jumped down from the sarcophagus and made his way to his childe. He knelt down next to Spike and wrapped his arms around the younger vampire, pulling him into an embrace that Spike fought against. Angel ignored his childe's struggle and placed his lips at Spike's temple, sucking and licking. "You're not like me, Spike." Angel whispered, running his hands over Spike's arms. He laughed against Spike's ear. "With or without your chip, you'll *never* be like me!"

Spike lifted his head a bit to hiss at his Sire. "God damn bleedin' *right* I'll never be like you, ya bleedin' poof!"

Angel chuckled and licked Spike's ear. He sucked the lobe into his ear and bit down on it, sucking in the blood that seeped from the wound. Spike's hand came up to push him away but Angle caught the wrist and held it. He placed his mouth on Spike's wrist and bit it, lapping at the slow moving blood that came forth. He brought his wrist to his own mouth, still holding Spike's, and bit into his wrist, tearing into his flesh, he placed the bleeding wound at Spike's mouth.

Spike refused the offering of Sire blood.

Angel smashed Spike's nose with his forearm. When the bleached blonde opened his mouth to protest, Angel thrust his bleeding wrist to the other vampire's mouth. Spike sucked in the intoxicating blood of his Sire. He brought up both hands to hold his Sire's arm still while he sucked in his blood. Angel smiled and rested his chin upon Spike's head. "See, Spike. You *want* to be close to me."

Spike heard Angel's voice and thrust his bleeding wrist away from his mouth. "*See*, Sire." Spike sneered. "I don't really *want* to be close to you! Wanting your blood is a *vampire* thing to do! And I'm a bloody vampire! Go home, Sire. Go the fuck home!"

Angel felt the rage overcome him and did nothing to fight it. He grabbed a handful of Spike's hair and pulled his head back. Angel brought his mouth down against Spike's, thrusting his tongue into the other vampires mouth as he climbed over Spike. He placed his knees on each side of Spike's hips and pulled back to look down and into the startled eyes of his childe. Angle let go of Spike's hair and sat on Spike's thighs. He gave him a vicious backhand with the hand that had held Spike's hair. He countered it with his other hand. Angel spit into his childe's face. "*Damn* you boy!" Angel hit Spike again, his fist striking Spike's jaw and lip, busting his lip open. "I just want to *talk*!" Angle's other fist came crashing down, striking Spike on the other side of his face, busting his lip again. Angel pulled back his fist and smashed it against Spike's nose, crushing it.

Spike chuckled, spitting out blood, and quirking and eyebrow. "See, Sire? *This* is how we talk! *This* is what we have!"

"No!" Angel rolled off of and sat next to Spike. He took in a deep and unneeded breath. "We can have more, Spike! We *can*."

Spike laughed again, spitting up blood. He turned to spit the blood on Angel. He climbed over his Sire and on to him. He sat down upon Angle's legs and thrust his hands into Angle's mussed hair. Spike bent down to rubbed his bloody, broken lips across his Sire's, smiling. "I don't *wan't* to have *more* with you, ya sod. Not to keep repeating myself, but I *repeat* I don't *like* you Angel. I don't want ya for my mate." Spike smiled and looked deep into Angle's eyes. "I'd rather have *Buffy* for a mate."

Instead of recoiling, as Spike had expected, Angle smiled at him. "I don't believe that, Spike."

Shit! Spike had the uncomfortable feeling that he had *not* won this round.

~end~