Once again Angel entered his apartment, struck by the bareness of it. Spike was right behind him, and as he turned to gather the blonde in a comforting embrace he couldn't help but remark. "I really need something in this place."

"Cable would be nice."

Angel playfully swatted the back of Spike's head, then turned his hand to a more pleasurable pursuit - running it through the short bleached locks. Breaking the embrace with a kiss to Spike's forehead, Angel went over to his couch. "Actually, I was thinking more like a picture." After a moment of silent contemplation, he looked at Spike. His childe never was one to tolerate inspecting glances.

"What?"

"Can I draw you?" Angel looked up into Spike's beautiful face.

"Um, yeah mate. Sure."

Angel smiled a genuine smile as Spike, suddenly very self-conscious, started to shrug off his jacket.

"Where do you want me?"

Angel shrugged. "I don't care. I'm not drawing background - just you."

Spike's trademark grin came out. "Well, what else in this soddin' place is worth drawing?"

"Is something wrong with my apartment, Spike?" Angel was warm inside, even though he produced no heat. It was as if time had been turned back and Spike was never gone.

Spike just kept grinning at Angel while shedding his clothes. When he was fully nude, he stretched out on the couch. "Seems right perfect to me now."

"I agree." Angel's voice was soft as he picked up his pad and pencil. Leave it to Spike to assume nudity. He was a natural exhibitionist.

Angel didn't actually need to be looking at Spike's form to draw him. The memory was enough. It was merely a reminder and a comfort that Spike was allowing him to do this. He was putting himself on display for his Sire. The strokes came naturally as Angel's pencil brought the paper to life. Drawing Spike now made him reflect on how to proceed with the information he had recently been given. Spike was sensitive, insecure when it came to Angel and hot headed when upset. Caution was definitely in order. One thing Angel did not want to do was ruin the precarious relationship they had been building over the past day. He could deal with the research and his associates tomorrow. It was late in the evening and they were probably long gone.

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

"That's it? You let it drop at `be careful'?" Cordelia stomped around the office, her heels clicking on the scuffed wooden floor. "I don't ever want to hear you accuse me of going soft on him!"

Doyle sighed. He knew Cordelia was right - he had been soft on Angel. What was he supposed to do? Forbid his boss to see a creature of his own creation? Just the thought that he had that kind of power over Angel was ludicrous.

"What was I supposed to say? `Angel, I know Spike is your childe, but you can't see him for fear it will re-awaken Angelus'?" The look Cordelia shot him spelled D-U-H. "Well, I'm sorry, Cordy. He's my friend too, and I'm worried." Her look of `yeah right' didn't go unnoticed. "I < am > worried. But he's an adult. We have to give him some space on this."

"Fine. He can have his space. But if either of them walk in here all vamped-out, it's over. I have a stake and I'm not afraid to use it."

Doyle knew she was hiding more fear than was apparent, but he took the cue from her body language and left her alone. They were both confused, and a bit hurt. For all the protesting that Angel did about not being Angelus, how could Spike, a product of that lifestyle, affect him so strongly? It was un-nerving. He had tortured Angel not that long ago. Doyle had to wonder about their relationship if Angel was willing to forgive Spike for that transgression. If Doyle had been tortured, he knew he wouldn't be as lenient with the torturer. "I'm going. You should pack up soon, too. Nothing much else for us to do around here." Doyle grabbed his coat and said a soft "goodnight".

Cordelia watched him go, saying goodnight only after he had turned the corner. What was it with men, anyway? Sighing, she slumped down in her chair, all thoughts of keeping her posture and attitude alive gone. Who cared? Her boss was probably shagging the bleached moron, and as disgusting a mental picture as that made, she couldn't be all that angry. She wanted to be. She wanted to shout. She wanted to run down to his apartment and put the full weight of the Chase family name on him - imminent death be dammed. But she wouldn't - not because he was a friend, not because she liked Spike, but because she understood. Family was everything. Once it was gone, you were never the same.

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

Angel put the finishing touches on his drawing, and looked up one final time. It was finished. Careful not to smudge the perfect lines, he rose and placed it upon the table next to the couch. Sitting down by Spike's feet, he gently touched the other man's calf. Spike had been staring at him almost hypnotically since he began drawing around an hour ago. Now, he was looking toward the picture Angel set aside.

"What, I don't get to see it?"

"You know what you look like, I can't keep you away from a mirror" Angel said with a light smile.

"Maybe. But I'd like to see how I look to you." As Spike spoke the words, his head turned away from Angel's gaze. Without another word, Angel picked up the drawing and held it towards Spike. It took him a minute, but he took the picture carefully by the edge and looked at it.

"It's pretty good."

"Thanks. I had a good source of inspiration." The blush crept from Spike's cheeks down his body. He gave the picture back to Angel. Abruptly, Spike snapped out of whatever mood he had been in and sat up.

"So, what's on the agenda? You haven't got any good channels, and nothing I want to see is on. How about going out for a bit? Maybe a club, or a movie."

"Spike," Angel stopped him with just a word. "I don't want to go anywhere. I want to stay right here, with you. We need to talk."

Talk. That was all Peaches wanted. Well, Spike had used the past hour to think. He would make it really easy on him.

"Look, < Angel >, it's all right. I understand. I know I was a disappointment to you the first time around. Why would you turn me now? Give me a second chance? I mean, bloody hell, Angelus, you have a < soul >! You can't turn me, it isn't right. Those `Powers' will never give you your bloody redemption if you bring me back." Despite his best efforts at control, Spike's voice began to rise and he could feel his breath wanting to hitch in his throat. Why was this so hard? He had only been back with his Sire for about twenty-four hours.

He knew why. He'd never gotten over Angel. He was his Sire; no matter what role Dru had played in his un-life. The ties that bound them together were never something William or Spike had a choice in. Angelus, Angel - he could come and go as he pleased. Spike would go on, but like any childe, he would be constantly looking toward the sunset and waiting. Waiting for his master to return.

And he had. Two years ago Angel had returned after the longest break ever. A century was a long time. Spike would never forget how his pulse raced when he saw Angel enter the school with the whelp in his hand. < That > was his Sire. The man he admired, loved and worshipped. Then he opened his mouth - and Spike knew. He just < knew > something was wrong.

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

"Angelus!"

"Spike!"

"I'll be damned!"

He tossed aside the pole he had been using on the ceiling and embraced the older vampire with a laugh.

"I taught you to always guard your perimeter. Tsk, tsk, tsk. You should have someone out there."

"I did. I'm surrounded by idiots. What's new with you?"

"Everything."

That voice. There was something wrong, but Spike was willing to play along. He couldn't put his finger on it. "Yeah. Come up against this Slayer yet?"

"She's cute. Not too bright, though. Gave the puppy dog 'I'm all tortured' act. Keeps her off my back when I feed!"

"People still fall for that Anne Rice routine. What a world!"

The human Angelus was holding started to say something, but Spike didn't really hear it. He was too busy taking in his Sire's appearance - black clothes and his usual air. Something was still off, though, and it was beginning to make Spike a bit nervous. Angelus spoke again.

"Wanna bite before we kill her?"

"I haven't seen you in the killing fields for an age." Spike's curiosity was getting the better of him.

"I'm not much for company."

"No, you never were. So, why are you so scared of this Slayer?"

"Scared?"

Spike knew he was playing with potential fire, but his `feeling' was quickly turning into a lump of dread in his stomach. He < had > to press this. It was too convenient. It had been too long. Angelus was up to something. "Yeah. Time was you would've taken her out in a heartbeat. Now look at you. I bet this, uh, tortured thing is an act, right? You're not... housebroken?"

"I saw her kill the Master. Hey, you think you can take her alone? Be my guest. I'll just feed and run."

As Angelus bent his head to drink from the boy, Spike saw it in his eyes. Fear. "Don't be silly! We're all friends. We'll do it together. Let's drink to it."

As he bent his head to drink, his fist came up and connected with Angelus' nose. "You think you can fool me? You were my sire, man! You were my... Yoda!"

"Things change."

"Not us! Not demons! Man, I can't believe this. You Uncle Tom!"

Spike had to turn away at that point, or risk completely losing face in front of his minions. It would not look good for Spike to be completely humiliated by his Sire. He didn't need that. Things weren't going quite to plan, anyway, and the last thing he needed was more problems.

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

Angel was silently sitting in front of Spike, trying to figure out where he was coming from. Just an hour ago, he was practically begging Angel to turn him. He wanted nothing more than to become Angel's. What had happened? Angel looked at the set jaw, the eyes transfixed on nothing - Spike was entertaining some memory. Angel had the feeling it wasn't a good one.

"Care to share?"

Spike just looked at him. "Sunnydale. Parent-Teacher night I think it was. You know - our big happy reunion."

If sarcasm were water, Angel would have been drowning. "Spike, there's no need to."

"There's < every > need, soul-boy." Ouch. Spike knew this was going to end up ugly, but he just couldn't let it go. "Do you have any idea what it was like for me? You left! I mean, you didn't just bugger-off with Darla; you left us all. You, and your great flaming guilt. I." Spike shut his eyes and gave himself a moment to recover. "I would have let you stay. Sod the chit - she never loved you. Not the < real > you. Dru would have understood. She would have been happy to have her daddy. But Darla kicked you out, and you ran. You didn't run to us. No, never to your family - the people that mattered."

Angel just sat on the couch, oblivious to the fact that his eyes were becoming watery while listening to the obvious pain in Spike's voice.

"That's why I hated you in China. I could tell you were different. You were doing what I would have done, granted. You sought out your Sire, hoping she would take mercy on you. She did for a bit, didn't she? It wasn't enough for her, though. She wanted the dream. I wouldn't have cared. Dru didn't really care. We would have loved you - taken care of you. You are everything to us - as Darla is everything to you." Spike noted Angel's fallen head and the silent tears rolling down his face. He felt his heart constrict in his chest, but he continued. "Then, when I saw you in Sunnyhell, it was like a prayer answered! I was thanking every demon God I could think of that you had come back to me. But it was another lie. You didn't care about me. You pitied me! Worked with the bleedin' Slayer, of all creatures! Dru was so upset it took almost all my patience to control her. She couldn't understand why you looked the same, but `the lion plays with the chickens' or some rot. I understood, though. I understood that who I saw before me wasn't my Sire. I was staring at someone who had stolen his body, and his voice."

Angel looked up at Spike. But I did come back, didn't I? Maybe not then, but when I lost my soul."

"You were different. Crazy. Demented. Off your soddin' rocker." The bitterness increased in Spike's voice. "Do you really think I enjoyed that time with you? Yeah, I still have a fondness for `roller-boy'," Spike spat, "I think it's one of your more inventive nicknames. No, I hated that Angelus. I tried not to show it much - you can probably guess though, I was plotting my revenge from that bloody wheelchair. Watching you and Dru go at each other like a couple of lovesick teenagers. Made me want to heave."

Angel wasn't saying anything. What could he say? Spike was partly right. He was different. Angelus was different. By bringing about Armageddon, Angelus had thought his survival would be ensured. As long as there was a Slayer to be called, he was in danger. Maybe it was egotistical. How could he be sure? After one hundred plus years with a soul dampening him, Angelus had wanted nothing more than to reclaim former glory. Not to mention the grief and anger at the souled portion of himself that had willingly killed his own Sire. No. Angelus hadn't felt the luxury of living `status quo'. Angel knew that. He just hadn't realized how badly he had hurt the one person he was most glad to see. He looked up into Spike's eyes and saw hurt to match his own. "I never meant to hurt you, Will. I swear. I was hurt, confused. Nothing was how I left it all those years ago. You were different, too. You looked different - the clothes, the hair. You know what I thought? I thought some other vampire had claimed you." The hitching breath now belonged to Angel as he began his side of the story. "When I heard you were in Sunnydale, I was afraid. I didn't want to lose you - I didn't want Buffy to have to kill you. Then, I saw you for myself and I knew it was over. You had changed so much! No more carefree hair and peasant worker clothes. No, you were all business in your duster and boots. And the hair - that was a bit of a shock." Angel allowed himself to smile with Spike through their shared tears. Carefully, he reached up to Spike's head and lightly touched the bleached locks. "I like it, though. It suits you." Dropping his hand, he continued. "When you stuck around, I became increasingly worried for you. I couldn't let you kill me to save Dru - but I didn't really want her to die; nor did I want you to die. I don't know why I fell for Buffy, really." At the mention of her name, Spike dropped his head.

"Because she's Mary-fucking-sunshine. She's a beacon of light that radiates out from everywhere that you can't escape. Every time you turn around, she's there, waiting. She won't stake you when you need it, but she will give you attitude with every movement of her mouth."

Angel smiled. "Yeah, something like that. She's different, Spike. We've both known other Slayers. She's not like them. She has potential. She can see beyond what her Watcher tells her - straight to the truth, and even though it scares her, she confronts it anyway. How could I not love that?"

"I don't know. I can't say I'm glad you did, though."

"No, you were right all along. It was a big mistake. We can't ever be, I see that now. She no longer holds that power." Angel looked straight into Spike's ice-blue eyes. "You do. You always did." Angel shifted his position on the couch and Spike moved to lie against his chest. "I was attracted to you Will, from the first moment I saw you. I saw behind your dancing eyes, something that I rarely saw anymore. A pure zest for life. You were just having fun, not a care in the world sitting at that table, eating your meal. I wanted that. Just like with Buffy, I wanted to capture your youth, your vitality - as if it could restore my own." Angel let out a big sigh and continued. "Of course I couldn't. My youth and vitality were a myth from the beginning. Wasting my life, drinking it away in bars; silently begging for someone to rescue me. I wanted it to be my father. Every morning when he found me, I expected something. All I ever got was abuse. He never understood. He loved me, but he never understood what I needed. Then, Darla came. She saw the pleading in my eyes - the desperation of being. She knew there was something brewing behind my swagger and smile. But, she polluted it. She took a kernel of darkness and created one of the most vicious killers the world has ever known."

"Hey, I liked that guy."

Angel rested his chin on Spike's head. "I know. I know you did. But how long can an evil like that be expected to go on in this world? Angelus surpassed all that was possible. There was no higher level for me to attain than Martyr of the un-dead, or prophecy fulfiller." Angel chuckled. "They certainly picked a painful one, didn't they."

Spike sighed. "I can't imagine it; what you go through. In just these last hours, I have felt close to heaven, and right next door to hell within ten minutes of each other. I'm just glad I have you here. What it must have been like for you - traveling the world on your own, an outcast. I'm an outcast in Sunnydale. It's not fun. The scoobies are a distraction, but they're no substitute for being myself - hanging with other vamps. I don't know how you felt, and no offense, but I never want to."

"None taken. I would never wish that upon you, or anyone else. It's a painful price."

"Can you fix it?"

"Fix what?"

"Your curse. That damn happiness clause. Can you remove it, or change it or something? I mean, you're doing good, right? Why should the Powers or whoever give a rat's ass if you're shagging someone?"

Angel chuckled. "That's you Will, perpetual gutter-brain." He adjusted both of their bodies, and then laid his head back on the arm of the couch. "No, I've actually never tried to look into it. I figured it would be cheating, you know? Without that hanging over my head, what would prevent me from becoming evil again?"

"Peaches, you can be evil with a soul. Hell, there are enough evil, souled humans in this world to sink a ship. Let's start with that bloody law firm Cordy mentioned, shall we?"

"Yeah, you're right. I don't know. I could look into it. Why do you care?"

Spike turned around and propped himself up in front of Angel. "Aren't I staying? I'm not leaving here unless you kick me out forcibly!" Spike flipped back over, and started to absently run his fingers across Angel's hand. "I don't mean to brag, Angel, but this < us > thing is bound to get complicated. I'm not gonna just give up the best shaggin' I've had in quite some time because you might lose your soul."

"You're so noble, Spike."

"Sod off. I mean it."

"I know." Angel grabbed his caressing hand and got up off the couch. "C'mere. I want to show you something."

"What?"

"It's a surprise."

"Oh. Great."

Angel smiled at his childe's lack of enthusiasm. "No books for you to read, William, I swear."

Spike laughed at that. "How about silk sheets?"

"No, not exactly." Angel dragged him into the bedroom and let go of his hand. Walking over to the closet, he brought out the forbidden bag. The same one that he had been shamefully looking through just a night ago. He didn't feel shameful about it anymore. In fact, he wanted to share it with Spike. He knew Spike, at least, would understand. "Come here. I want to show you some stuff."

Spike walked over to where Angel had dragged a rather large duffel type bag out of his closet. Spike would have been lying if he said he hadn't noticed it the other night, after Angel calmed his nightmares. He just hadn't had the opportunity to go back to it since. He was glad Angel was doing it for him. Sometimes, it paid not to be sneaky.

Angel reached into the bag and took out a ribbon. Showing it to Spike, he got a quizzical look.

"That looks like one of yours, Peaches. Darla liked those. Silk, I'd wager."

"You win the prize." Angel smiled, and put the ribbon on his bed. Next, was a dress. He held it up and Spike took it from him.

"Drusilla." Spike didn't need to say anything more. All his emotions were clearly reflected in his eyes.

"I shouldn't have. I mean, I never."

"Angel." Spike knew where this was going. Angel felt extremely guilty about the would-be nun. "No selective guilt, ok? Each person is different."

Angel nodded and took back the dress, laying it out on the bed as if Dru would waltz through the doorway any minute, cooing about shopping for a new dolly. Angel discarded the depressing thought, and reached for the next item. The weight of his guilt over Dru couldn't compare with how he felt about this. The letter from his sister. He stood there as if in a daze until Spike came over and nudged him.

"Hello? Angel? Still there?"

The touching concern in Spike's voice snapped him out of his reverie. "Letter from Kathy", was all he said as he practically shoved it at Spike. "I've never read it. I can't."

Spike took the paper from Angel's fingers, and turned it over in his hands several times.

"Do you want me to."

"No. Not if you don't want to." Angel just stared at the open bag, lost in thought. "I can't. I just can't, yet."

Spike placed the letter on the bed, and smiled softly at Angel. "When you're ready, we'll read it together. Ok?"

Angel smiled his answer. Reaching into the bag again, he pulled out a small box. It was old, and the lid was worn at the edges from being handled. Spike put his small hands on Angel's shoulders in a show of silent support. Angel broke out into a wide grin. Turning around, he faced his childe, box in hand.

"Spike. This is for you." Angel didn't say anything else - he simply held the box out for Spike to take.

"For me?" Spike's confusion was evident on his face as he gingerly accepted the box from Angel. "I'm thinking I should be afraid, here."

Angel's grin got wider as he pictured Spike's face upon opening his present. "Just open it, Will. It may be late, but I hope not too late."

Curiosity would kill him someday - of that Spike was certain. Gripping the bottom of the box in his slender fingers, he used the other hand to slowly pry the lid off. He wasn't < scared > of the contents, per se, just nervous. What could Angel have been keeping all this time? As the object came into view, Spike was speechless. How did he remember this stuff? After all this time. it was uncanny. A pocket-watch. Angelus had always feared Spike would stay out too late one day, and fry for his troubles. Turning it over in his hands, his throat went dry as he looked at the inscription on the back. `May the Moon guide you and the Sun find you safely home - 1898.' As he reread it for the third time, the date sank in. He almost dropped the watch in his shock. Angelus had a soul in 1898. With a soul, he had thought to buy this for Spike. Probably as a way to take care of him and protect him, even though he wasn't there.

"I was going to give it to you, in China." Angel's voice was very quiet. "I didn't want anything to happen to you, Will. I couldn't stand the thought of it. I worried about you; I worried about not being able to care for you and Drusilla."

"And I kicked you in the balls and slammed the door."

"Spike, don't be hard on yourself. You were angry, and you had cause to be. I did leave you, thinking I was doing the right thing. We should have at least talked. I owed you that much, and you didn't get it. I'm so."

"Don't bloody SAY IT!" Spike practically roared, and Angel backed up a step. "I'm really sick of hearing those words from you. I KNOW, ok? Every day, every freaking thing you do, every move you make screams `I repent' at the top of its lungs. I didn't get it before, no. I resented it, yes. But I understand, now, Peaches. I feel it, too. Brooding, however, won't change anything. It won't make all the nasty things go away. If it did, I'd wager you'd have wings and a bloody sainthood by now." Spike placed the watch in his pocket and set the empty box on the bed. Walking over to Angel, he slipped his arms around his waist and looked him straight in the eye. "Let it go, Angel."

Angel rested his forehead on Spike's shoulder and inhaled the scent of his blood. "I want you, Will. I need you so much it hurts."

Spike nuzzled against him and spoke in a soft, reassuring tone. "I'm yours, Sire. I've always been yours."

Angel's tongue darted out to lick the pulsing vein in Spike's neck. He felt an involuntary shudder run through his lover at the gentle caress.

Spike brought Angel closer, loosening one arm to run it through his Sire's gel-coated hair. Angel responded by tightening his grip, until they were both just standing there, locked in an embrace neither wanted to break. "Let me, Angel." Spike drew back slowly and captured Angel's bottom lip in his own. Angel moaned and tried to capture Spike in return. Spike thwarted his attempts to dominate and Angel pulled back, frustrated. "Let me, Angel," Spike repeated. "You need me right now. Stop trying to be everything. You have nothing to prove to me." Smoothing out Angel's hair from the caresses of his hand, Spike returned his attention to his lover's soft lips. This time, they were pliant under his touch and the kiss quickly intensified.

Angel couldn't tell where he ended and Spike began. He hadn't felt this complete in too long. Surrender came more easily once he realized that he really was in control. Spike was doing this because he loved him, and he would do anything for his Sire. Including take control when Angel needed it. Like now. Angel barely felt himself being undressed, but soon he was nude and being gently guided to the bed.

"I love you, Angel."

Angel diverted his attention from Spike's neck and saw his beautiful boy with his eyes closed, lost in the sensation of being here with him. Leading him, controlling his desire. It inflamed Angel as well. He needed this. Needed to be held and coddled - needed to know that something in his life was `right'. Despite all that had happened, he could be content somewhere, in small amounts of time reserved for Spike.

"I need you, Will. My childe, my beautiful boy." Angel was mumbling now, kissing Spike all over his angular face. When he was satisfied every inch of skin had been attended to, he gently held Spike's face in his soft hands and whispered. ". Possess me. I want to belong to you too."

For his part, Spike looked like Angel had just told him that the Easter Bunny was holding the North Pole hostage. He didn't give him time to reply, either. Angel wordlessly dropped to his knees and began to undress Spike reverently. Spike shifted uncomfortably - it was so rare the tables were turned like this. When Angel's fingers reached the fly on his jeans, Spike bit back a gasp and thrust his hips toward Angel. A small grin broke Angel's thus far solemn features and he leaned in to Spike, breathing in his scent. With his jeans now around his ankles, his childe was helpless against the assault Angel had planned. Angel looked at Spike and noticed that his lust had darkened the blue of his eyes. Slowly, Angel ran his tongue over Spike's exposed penis before sliding the tip between his lips.

"Oooh."

Spike's groan broke the silence in the room and the last of Angel's worry about domination. Every movement of Angel's lips and tongue existed for the sole purpose of pleasing Spike. He forgot how pleasurable it could be to feel the reaction to his attention. Spike was panting in little gasps and his lids were shut lightly. Sparing a look up to his face, Angel thought he looked like perfection. He was beautiful.

Angel was making him beautiful.

With renewed determination, Angel throated Spike's cock fully and sucked. The shallow pants became a steady stream of nonsense as Angel didn't let up his pressure.

"Oooh..yes..there...bloody hell.."

When Spike finally came, Angel greedily swallowed his seed. His grin was big as he released Spike and crawled up the bed. He wrapped an arm around Spike, nuzzling his neck softly. Spike turned to look at him and their eyes locked.

Spike looked into Angel's eyes and saw need - the raw desire to give and receive love. So long he had suffered alone. Even in relationships, Angel was alone; fearing attachment would bring some unspeakable evil down on the heads of everyone he cared about. Spike moved above Angel and straddled his stomach. No words were needed, so he captured Angel's lips in a warm kiss. Twining their fingers together, he slowly brought Angel's arms above his torso, pinning him to the bed. Grabbing his wrists with one hand, Spike felt around for the small tube that was undoubtedly close. Never taking his attention away from his lover, Spike popped the lid and coated his newly hardened cock with the slick liquid. Looking into Angel's eyes again, he saw it all written over his face. Right here, in this moment, he was Spike's. Neither of them belonged to anyone else in the world.

Angel felt the welcome intrusion and relaxed. This was what he wanted, what he had craved for so long. Connection of the flesh was nice, but this connection he had with his childe - no one could duplicate that. Spike knew him as no other could, save Darla. He knew what Angel liked and he was pulling out all the stops. Their slow rhythm was an age-old dance that neither would ever forget the steps to. As Spike grabbed and stroked him, he began his own litany of praises. "Oh God, Spike.yes.oooh, yesyesyes.."

Spike had planned to drag this out a bit longer, but the intensity between them was too much. Sweat beaded on his chest as he held Angel down and made love to him. His lover. His sire. The complicated part of himself that he would never let go. Spike's blunt teeth bit down on Angel's collarbone as his seed spilled, causing Angel to go over the edge as well.

Angel lay bonelessly on the bed with Spike draped over him. Slowly he brought one of his now free hands down to caress Spike's sweaty locks. "I love you." It was barely whispered, but he had a feeling Spike heard him - if not with his ears, then definitely with his heart. Angel knew that he had done much to push the younger man away in the past several years. He vowed to stop that immediately. What had he been thinking? He had been searching for some kind of validation from the Powers, something to tell him he was on the right path. Surely finding Spike again after all this time told him something. He was free. At least a part of him was. Angel drifted to sleep with the comfortable weight of his lover blanketing him.

*****