Floating. That was the only word Spike could find to describe himself. That, and warm. Snuggled beneath the covers in Angel's too-mall bed, he didn't want to move. Preferably forever. Last night had been, well, perfect. So many things had come tumbling out between them - it was like they were getting a fresh start. No more misunderstandings. Just two people who truly cared about each other. Belonged to each other. Spike could feel the smoothness of Angel's stomach move behind him, just about the same time as a finger lightly began to trace his outer ear.

"Mmm. Mornin' Angel."

"Morning, Spike. Did you sleep well? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Spike chuckled low. "No, mate. I'm just fine." He turned towards Angel slightly, and was delighted when the older vampire smiled slyly and crawled on top of him.

"That's good. I was afraid, you know. You're so delicate now. So frail and.human."

The way that last word escaped Angel's lips made Spike's skin crawl. Something was wrong.

"Yeah, I was just thinking about that." Spike tried to sit up, but Angel kept his weight pressed firmly on him. "Have you thought much more about our discussion? You know, turning me back?" The last part came out a bit more pleading than Spike had intended and he was further shocked when Angel looked at him and chuckled.

"Oh, my William, you were always my favorite. Always so eager to please."

Angel traced down the side of Spike's cheek with a finger and Spike's heart leapt in his chest. Oh yeah, something was < very > wrong.

"Of course I've thought about it. I think about us every day, William." Angel's caress became rougher as he began to knead Spike's shoulder's and chest.

"I think about us in Paris - you remember Paris, right, my boy? You liked the nightlife. Or perhaps it was the Cabaret. I don't remember. Do you know what I remember about Paris? Alleys. Paris has many dark corners, and I fucked you raw in every single one of them."

Spike couldn't believe what he was hearing! This wasn't Angel: his wanker of a Sire didn't talk about that stuff, < ever >. He never wanted to talk about. Angelus. It hit Spike like a ton of bricks.

"Yeah, I remember."

"Good. It will make your new life so much easier."

The gentleness completely left Angelus's touch at that point as he roughly shoved Spike down onto the mattress.

"So, my boy, would you like a repeat of how it happened the first time? You know, for `old time's sake' and all that."

Spike's mind was reeling at 100 miles-an-hour. This was bad. No, this was worse than bad. The vampire on top of him was not the same one that Sired him all those years ago. He was different - changed. Having had a soul will do that to a demon. Spike most definitely did not want to be Sired by this, < creature >. Not now - not ever. Vainly he struggled to get any kind of distance between himself and Angelus, but the vampire just laughed.

"Are you trying to `escape', William? Why ever would you want to? I thought this was what you wanted."

With that, Angelus leaned down and put a deceptively light kiss on Spike's ear. When the cool tongue snaked out to lick his lobe, Spike let out an involuntary shiver.

"You always did like it when I teased you."

The leering quality the words carried cut through the impending bliss, and jarred Spike back to where he was. Pinned to the bed, under Angelus. Under a crazy, demented Angelus. This was not good, and he needed a plan. Now.

Unfortunately, he was stuck underneath Angelus and his human condition didn't afford him the strength he needed to fight back. The fact that he could try, though, was a source of immense irony for him at the moment. Stupid soldiers. He had a good mind to hunt them down and electrocute every bleedin' one; if he ever got out of this situation, of course.

Angelus took his further silence as acquiescence, continuing his seduction on Spike's trapped form. Spike was loathing his own body right now, as he grew hard under the assault. He didn't need this. He didn't need to be reminded that this soulless bastard was in any way related to < his > Angelus. Or his Angel.

He finally admitted it. He loved Angel. Soul and all. He might be a gel-using, broody sod, but he loved him anyway. And he was scared out of his mind that that person would never return. Even as his shaft grew under the physical pressure being applied, Spike shut his mind off from the outside. (Think, you idiot, think! How to get out of this without getting bloody killed.) Without even realizing it, Spike started to cry. Small, stinging tears gathered at his eyelids, and he blinked a few times to try and clear his sight. (Please don't look), he begged silently. (Please don't look at me.) Angelus wasn't going to pick that time to change his character. Looking up into Spike's face for a reaction, his expression turned cold upon seeing his emotions.

"Well, now I've seen it all. What are you crying about? And you call < me > a nancy boy! Who's the poofter now, huh, William?" Spike's eyes went wide with fear as Angelus gripped his forearms and roughly pulled him upwards. The snarl was evident, and he almost looked as if he was about to shift into gameface.

"I can give you something to cry about."

With that, Spike felt the familiar piercing pain as razor sharp twin fangs punctured the skin of his neck. (No, not like this, not with him. not with him.) Spike kept repeating the mantra over again in his mind. It was a losing battle, however, and he slowly began to feel light-headed and warm all over as the blood coursed out of him and over Angelus's tongue. Abruptly, the sensation stopped, and he found himself looking into golden-yellow eyes.

"Not yet."

With that, Angelus let go of his arms, and Spike fell back onto the bed with a thud. No sooner had his head hit the pillow than Angelus was on his cock, licking and sucking for all it was worth. Again, his traitorous body grew hard under the assault.

Finally, Spike had had enough. He was still "Spike" and if this crazy bastard was going to play with him, then so be it. It would be on his terms, though. Allowing himself to succumb to the pleasure, it didn't take long for him to reach orgasm. Angelus smirked as he watched Spike's features.

"You were always a sucker for attention, Will."

The mocking tone threatened to loosen his resolve, but he managed to hide it.

"Yeah, what can I say. Let's see how long you last under that kind of attention." The accompanying leer caught Angelus off-guard.

"Why Will, don't tell me you've suddenly developed a backbone where your old man is concerned."

Spike smiled coolly, trying not to show his fear and irritation. "I just want to get this bloody humanity bit over with. I'm sick and tired of being bleedin' defenseless while those gits have their bloody laughs. No one does that to William The Bloody and lives."

He fixed Angelus with an icy stare that caused the vampire to gulp air he didn't need - then break out in a wide smile.

"He's back. And they said it couldn't happen. "

Spike caught his lover mid-sentence, spreading his arms wide, and brought him down in an embrace. Tongues dueled and for just a moment, Spike was almost willing to forget.

Forget what had happened; forget that this was Angelus, again. It felt so < right >. How could someone like him inspire these thoughts? As Spike's tongue and mind both grappled with Angelus in their own way, his fingers began a slow track down a well-known spine. Every bumpy ridge was known to the younger man and it made his heart ache. This had to be dealt with. Unfortunately, he was no closer to an answer than he had been a few minutes ago. Angelus mercifully ended the kiss, and Spike drew in a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He sucked another one in sharply when Angelus reached over the side of the bed only to return with a set of chains.

"Didn't think I'd let you get away from me, did you?"

Angelus's tone held a note of deadly sincerity. Oh Gods, Angelus < wanted > this. He was more than happy to have his playmate back. Never one for wise words, Spike smirked at the elder vampire.

"What's the matter, < peaches >? Losing some of that confidence?"

He barely saw the punch coming before it slammed into the side of his face. (That was bloody stupid, mate), He thought to himself.

"Don't mock me, < childe >. You may be my favorite, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy hearing you scream."

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

Doyle woke with a start and looked at the clock. It was 7:30 am - why was he awake, exactly? Then the answer hit him like the proverbial ton of bricks it always resembled. As the vision swept across his mind, his demon came forth and he started to shake. By the time it was over, he grabbed the phone, oblivious to the headache forming around his sinuses.

"Ehlo?"

The groggy voice of Cordelia gave Doyle a wince when he heard it. She wasn't going to be happy about being woken up. "Listen Cordy, it's Doyle. I know it's early but." He got no further as the phone suddenly went dead on him. "Cordy? Cordy?!" The operator speaking in a nasal tone broke him out of his panic. She'd hung up on him. Well, typical. Cordelia was not going to be happy about this one. Doyle dialed again, and this time a more coherent and sarcastic answer awaited him.

"Please tell me the world is ending, because any other reason you could be calling at this hour is just."

"I had a vision. Spike's in trouble." Silence held for several minutes before Doyle asked "you still there?"

"Why do we care, again?"

"Because we care about Angelus being loose." Doyle heard her small gasp and then she hung up, again. Doyle didn't bother to call back, he was pretty sure Cordelia was on her way.

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

`Bugger.' That was really the only word Spike could think of as he sat on the bed watching Angelus leering at him, chains in hand. "Want me to chain you up?"

Angelus merely smirked. "I don't think so. You seem to be the one in need of some discipline here."

"Me? No, no discipline required here, Sire." Spike was getting desperate, and anything seemed better than nothing at this moment. Bending his head slightly downward, he maneuvered himself out from under Angelus' legs until he was sitting on his knees. Head still bent, he tilted it slightly to display his neck. He knew it was a risky move, simply because he could no longer see Angelus in front of him. The smooth sound of laughter was not in any of the scenarios being played out in Spike's mind. Carefully, he raised his head and looked back up at his Sire. Angelus was still chuckling.

"Oh, no, put your head back down. It's been < way > too long, boy. I rather like that look on you."

Spike began to shiver slightly as the futility of his situation fully sank in. He was here. With Angelus. He was human.

He was as good as dead. Angel would have turned him. *re-turned* him to his rightful state as a vampire - his vampire. Angelus would do no such thing. After 240 years, and two re-soulings - he just didn't care about much of anything, anymore. Spike was about to just ask him to get it bloody well over with, already, when the sound of rushed footsteps came down the hall. Not wanting to alert Angelus - on the off chance his hearing had diminished any. 'Bloody un-likely, mate'. Spike remained in his position. He felt Angelus move, and his heart sank. So much for the calvary. Somehow, Spike just knew it was Angel's pet humans. Prom queen and the mick. What a wonderful rescue party they were gonna make. More like what a nice lunch.

"Oh goodie", Angelus whispered. "I smell humans." He looked down at Spike with a face of utter pity. Is this what you've been reduced to, boy? Being rescued from good old *dad*, by 'sniff' two lousy humans?"

"No, Angelus - he's been reduced to watching us kick your pathetic, undead ass."

It was that sarcastic voice that Spike would remember for all time. No matter how much she over-perfumed herself, or teased him with her revealing wardrobe, Cordelia Chase would be burned into Spike's retina's for eternity. Cordelia with her leather jacket, shiny boots, white cotton top - and spring-loaded crossbow. The one she had pointed directly at Angelus' chest at the moment.

"You really think you can fire that thing before I snap your neck?"

The mocking tone seriously threatened to mess with Cordelia's nerves, but she fought back. "No. That's why I have this." Cordelia pulled out a vial of ordinary looking water. "You think I don't come to work prepared for this? I mean, really. You've been trying to get out since day one." No, he hasn't. It's all Spike's fault. Spike made him love, made him care. Made him happy.

Jerk.

"What's that gonna do, Cordy? Give me a pimple?"

"No, it's gonna seriously mess with your vision and give you a few scars. Mix in the glass shards and we've got a party." She was bullshitting him, now and she knew it. No way could she throw it hard enough to shatter on his face and *he* knew it. Damn. Sometimes drama training didn't help with realism. The rich sound of his laughter filling the room confirmed it for her.

"Oh, help me", Angelus fawned in a falsetto tone. "The Prom Queen is gonna bitch-slap me." In a blur of motion, Angelus lunged towards Cordelia, intent on rendering her unable to ever win a beauty contest. As his game face came forth, and his teeth sunk into Cordelia's neck, a white flash of pain descended from the back of his neck straight down his spine. Angelus didn't have time to think about where else he might have ended up hurting - he passed out cold on the floor.

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

"So much for promising myself I'd stake him." Cordelia was standing over the body of her fallen boss. Well, the fallen body of her boss that currently contained the evil demon personality he usually kept reigned in the back of his mind.

"Now what?" Spike was miserable. This was all his fault. Cordelia had been bitten, his pride and emotional state were at an all-time low - only Doyle seemed to be unscathed. Physically at any rate. They were all standing around the room, Spike thankfully clothed, wondering what to do with him.

Angelus.

Cordelia absently scratched at the closing puncture wounds on her neck. "I can't do it." It was really soft, but it was true. She couldn't kill him. "Maybe we should call Willow. She could restore his soul, again. Curse him."

"Think that would work?" Doyle couldn't believe they were in this situation. This wasn't supposed to happen. Angel was going to be careful. He'd promised. Spike evidently was more than he could handle. Doyle still wasn't sure how he felt about that. Part of him wanted to let out his demon side and pummel Spike into the floor, right next to his Sire. That wouldn't accomplish much, however, so he kept his emotions under wraps.

"She's pretty good with the witch stuff. I'm sure she'd at least try." 'For Buffy's sake' was the part Spike wisely kept his mouth shut about. He wasn't sure if Buffy had told any of the Scooby gang about this new situation, but knowing them as he did, it would take them awhile to figure out she was truly ok with it.

"What about the Powers?" Cordelia spun around to Doyle. "Don't they care? Angels' their champion, isn't he? Won't they want him back?"

"I don't know." Doyle stood in the bedroom, looking - no staring - at the body on the floor. "We should chain him up. In case he wakes. He won't be too happy."

"I'll do it." Spike walked over to the bed and grabbed the manacles he himself had almost worn not less than twenty minutes ago. He might be human now, but he was well aware what it would take to keep Angelus captive. Some twisted part of his brain was getting a big kick out of this, as well. One day he knew the tables would turn in an ugly way. "This is the second time I'm chaining you up, mate", he softly reminded the unconcious body on the floor. "I know it's gonna be my turn, someday."

Leaving Spike to the business of securing Angel, Cordelia grabbed Doyle and dragged him back to the couch in the living room. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"About the powers, lame brain! Would they want Angel back? Do they care he's gone all psycho on us?"

"There's really only one way to know." Doyle didn't want to do this. He was extremely disconcerted by the two Guardians of the Temple. "We can go ask."

"Just like that. Make a phone call?"

"No, not that simple. There are portals - temples. I know where one is here. I can go and ask them to...."

"Ask them what, mate." It didn't take Spike very long to chain Angelus to the bed. Hands, feet and one around his chest for good measure. Angel had some sturdy chains in his collection. Spike shuddered to think what they were for.

"If we can have Angel back, moron."

"What I meant, was what exactly do you want them to do?" 'And how do I fit into that equation, if at all?'

Doyle and Cordelia shared a glance for several seconds. "We want Angel back. We want him to be the same as he was. However they do that....." Cordelia didn't want to finish that sentence. It wasn't as if she didn't like Spike. She did. He was a fashion-victim and in serious need of a new hairstyle - but he was a decent guy underneath all the 'grrr'. He just wasn't the guy for Angel.

Or maybe he was, and that was even more dangerous right now.

"Then I'll go." Spike moved to find the keys to his precious DeSoto.

"No way. What could you possibly say that would make them care?! This is your fault, anyway..."

"Exactly, *Doyle*. This is my fault, and I am going to bloody well fix it! I have no idea what I'm going to say, but I'll say something. And they *are* gonna give you Angel, back. Whatever it takes." Spike found his keys on the small end table, right next to the picture Angel drew of him several hours before. He looked at it in shock for almost a minute. Then just as Cordelia and Doyle became curious as to what was gathering his attention, he ripped it to pieces and slowly let them fall to the floor. "Let's go. We probably don't have much time."

*****
Part 12:

After going down a stone stairway, Doyle stepped over to a bird-bath sized bowl in front of an apparently blocked stone archway. Spike strode behind him, confident in his own judgement for the first time in many years. This was going to work. It had to. The archway was carved into the cave wall; the space between the arches a smooth, solid stone. As Doyle removed various herbs from his bag, placing them in the stone bowl, Spike gazed at some Greek lettering above the arch. [too many "stone"s and too many "arch"s I suggest describing the colour, texture or something else in place of at least two each of these.

"The .`Gateway For Lost Souls'...is Under the bloody Post Office?!"

"Well, it does make some kind of ironic sense if you think about it."

"Yeah. So what are these blokes like? What can I expect?"

Doyle sighed. He was afraid of this. "I, um, really don't know."

Spike looked at the smaller man with disbelief. "You don't know. Well, ain't that spiffing, mate. Lemme guess - you haven't ever been here before, have you."

Doyle nodded. "The Powers give me the visions and I saw this place in one of them. I'm just someone who can open the gate I can't go through it. Hell, I don't even know if you can. They might well just spit you back out. I'm not sure of the exact details."

"Bloody hell." As far as Spike was concerned life wasn't shaping up to be any better than un-life. The last 48 or so hours had been nothing but an emotional roller coaster. And just when he'd thought things were settling down - Peaches went and lost his soul over him.

He should be OK with that. He should want to be claimed by Angelus, to be taken under his wing and then try to convince his old man to get the hell out of Dodge. Course, that was before he became human for a while, got in touch with his poetic nature and fell in love with the 'Angel' side of Angelus.

"Life's a bitch." Spike took a deep, calming breath, and stared at the wall while Doyle lit some herbs in the bowl.

"We beseech access to the knowing ones."

"Guess I'll just wait here until." Suddenly, a doorway appeared in front of Spike. Stepping through, he found himself in a stark white room. Stairs led up to a vast hallway roofed by a gleaming arch. The light was blinding, and he felt as if it was only not frying him because he was now human. No sooner had he started to look around then he was jolted again by an angry, female voice.

"How did you get in here?"

Followed quickly by a manly, "We don't counsel lower beings."

Aristocrats. Soddin' wonderful. There was nothing that Spike detested more than authority, but these guardians weren't your average brass-hats. These must be the enlightened Oracles. Just great. Spike's fingers automatically began to search for his trusty pack of smokes, but he curbed the urge by grabbing the front of his ever-present duster. "Um, yeah, I'm a lower being, alright. See, mates, that's the problem."

"We aren't interested in your problems. Leave now."

That female was downright testy! Spike thought for a moment. He couldn't leave; this < had > to work, or Angel was doomed. He could be re-cursed, maybe, but the permanent damage would be too great. And it would all take too long, people could die. Spike wasn't ready for that to sit on his recently-discovered concience. "True, my problems aren't that interesting, really. Only, aren't you the least bit worried about your champion? Mr. Tall Dark and Brooding?"

"The Vampire with a soul?"

"Yeah, mate, that would be the vampire with an ex-soul."

The male and female Oracles looked at each other, a small measure of worry on their faces. Quickly, however, the male spoke again.

"If he fails, another champion will be chosen. It is of no consequence.

"Just like that. After all he's been through, his century long path of redemption means nothing. Just, `oh well, we can fetch another doggie'?"

"How dare you insult us like that! You come into our temple, berate us with your problems and do not even bring a gift?!" The female Oracle moved toward him a few steps as she voiced her tirade.

"Just like a woman, they always want soddin' something," Spike muttered in a tone he hoped was under his breath. Quickly searching his pockets, he tried to figure out what he could possibly have that these Oracle gits would care about. In his search through the tight pockets of his jeans, it didn't take Spike long to find the one thing he was hoping < not > to be forced into giving up.

The watch Angel had just given him.

After another minute of fumbling, however, his cheap Bic lighter was the only other item of interest besides his smokes. He doubted highly that these Oracles lighted up the occasional Marlboro. Sighing heavily, he dragged his beautiful watch out of his pocket, and held it up for inspection. The female Oracle seemed pleased, as she grasped it and caressed the face.

"I like Time. There's so little and so much of it."

One part of Spike was glad she liked it - maybe now he could get some soddin' results from these gypsy painted Oracles. "Right then, you got your present. Now, can we get back to Angel?"

The male Oracle spoke up. "You should not care, vampire. Aren't you happy that he is back with your kind?"

Spike looked at the Oracles, shocked. "How did."

"We know of you, Spike, Spawn of Angelus. Answer the question. You are lucky to be here."

Spike bent his head down and looked away. Fine, but why did they have to ask the difficult questions? Shifting his feet slightly, he looked back up and replied firmly, "No."

"Surprising," said the female. "One would think the vampire community would be glad to have such a vicious member of their ranks returned to them."

"Well, I'm not exactly an upstanding member of the community, myself. Even present state excluded." Spike sighed and inspected his boots. This was getting himself and Angel absolutely nowhere. "Look, you may not believe me, but I don't want Angelus. I want Angel. I.." Spike stopped himself. "He's a good champion. It's what he lives for, redemption is his very existence. This whole losing-his-soul thing? That's my fault. Completely, and I don't want him to pay for my mistake by being a soulless bastard."

The male Oracle looked at Spike with an expression of pure dismissal. "What's done is done. We cannot change this."

"Bloody hell. Sorry, Angel." Spike turned to go, when the female Oracle stopped him with an offer.

"Are you willing to give up everything?"

Spike turned back around, slowly, regarding the female Oracle coolly. "What is `everything', exactly?"

"Your humanity. Your new feelings. Your relationship." She moved closer to Spike, putting her hand on his shoulder. "This can be fixed, but it comes with a very high price."

Spike thought for a moment. "What are you going to do, turn back time?"

"Precisely," stated the Male, obviously irritated. "We can turn back time, back to when the change took place. Back to when you became human."

"Well, that's smashing, mate, but how are you gonna prevent this whole thing from starting again?"

"You will prevent it." The female Oracle was all business as she looked him straight in the eyes. "You alone will carry the memories of what has happened. Everyone else will carry on as if this is the first time they have experienced these events. Only you will know the truth, and you must never reveal it to anyone. Kill the demon, before you turn, and go about life as it would be."

Spike's whole mouth went dry. He couldn't do this. That was his first thought. All sorts of memories clamoured for space in his brain. Awakening in Angel's office chair. Cordelia, gently feeling his heartbeat. Getting pissed at the pub and fighting. Angel taking care of him. He and Angel, wrapped in a lover's embrace. Small tears began to form at Spike's eyelids and he willed them away.

This wasn't the time for mourning. This was the time for action. He had loved the past forty-eight hours, but he knew. He knew it wasn't the right time. The right place. At least he could go back to Sunnydale with the knowledge that there might be a time and place. Just for him and Angel. With a new found determination, he looked back up at the twin Oracles, and nodded affirmation. "Yes. Yes, I can do that."

The Oracles passed a look between each other, and then the female walked back to her place at the top of the stairs. "Go then. It will be done soon."

"How soon?"

"One hour. Be ready." They turned away in unison, dismissing Spike's presence and heading towards the corridor. Suddenly, Spike found himself back outside the portal, staring at a very upset Doyle.

"Spike, what happened?! You weren't gone for more than a second!"

"A second?!" Spike just shook his head and walked toward the exit. "C'mon, Irish. We got what we came for."

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

Cordelia and Doyle left Spike alone in Angel's apartment. He had told them only that he was saying goodbye, and that everything would be fine after he left. They didn't trust him, but in an hour it wouldn't matter anyway.

Spike crept towards the door to Angel's room, almost afraid to see the dark-haired vampire, but needing this confrontation. This conclusion. To know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had done the right thing.

"No need to be stealthy, William. I can hear you."

Angelus mocked him with his tone, but Spike kept on walking towards the bedroom door. He briefly worried that Angelus had somehow got loose, but he shook the thought out of his head. There was no time for that now. Just enough time for goodbye.

"Wasn't tryin'." All hint of sarcasm gone, Spike just walked into the room slowly and stared at the vampire lying in chains on the bed. His Sire.

The bastard who left him alone so many centuries ago, only to come back and steal Dru's heart away. Who had come to Sunnydale souled and tried to kill him on more than one occasion. Who caused Spike to ally with the Slayer. The stupid pillock who thought ending the world would be a good idea.

His lover for over twenty years. The one person he'd loved as deeply as Dru, and still loved even to this day. Spike looked deep into Angelus' eyes, trying to see a glimpse of, well, anything. Some sign that the man-demon who was his Sire was still in there, somewhere.

"What do you want, Will? I'm sure you're not after me lucky charms, so what else could there be? Can't say I wouldn't but you know, I have these annoying chains.."

"Shut up, Angelus." Spike surprised himself, but it felt good to say that. He realized in that moment just how much of his life had been ruled by Angelus. Even when he was gone thoughts of him still spurred Spike into action and rage. "I don't want anything from you."

"Well, I may be chained up boy, but that just means you're stuck with me for awhile doesn't it. What're you going to do? Get the witch to come and re-soul me, again? Old Rupert still have that bloody sphere as a paperweight? Figures, he's such a."

"No, Angelus. None of that. You see, I had a little chat with the Powers. You remember them, right? The gits your souled self champions for? Well, we sort-of bonded you know. They've decided the souled version of you is much better."

"Those sissy Oracles?" Angelus laughed. "They look like a pair of freak circus clowns. All painted up and stuck up. What can they do to me? I'm free! They have no claim on me, anymore. Soulboy is gone."

"Well, evidently not gone enough." Spike smirked internally. Seemed he had his Sire's complete attention, now. "See, these circus clowns can perform tricks. Like say, turn back time." If his Sire hadn't already been dead, Spike would've sworn he saw Angelus pale.

"Turn back time? Why? Did they miss their soap operas today?"

Whiny wasn't something Spike was particularly used to where Angelus was concerned. He was starting to like it, though. "No, < Peaches >, it seems that they can take us back to that little incident - you know what I mean, right? The fight in the sewer? Yeah. We can go back there, but see I have the advantage now. I know what's going to happen." Spike swallowed and stalled a moment. His voice was quieter when he spoke again. "So it won't." Angelus chuckled from his position on the bed.

"You know what I loved about you, William? Your pathetic emotion. Don't know why it never bled out of you like the rest of your soul, but damn if it didn't make my job easier." The paleness had left, replaced by an evil sneer. "You < wanted > everything I gave you, good or bad. You craved it. You crave it even now - even now you are still < my > childe. My slave. My William." Angelus stared directly into Spike's eyes, trying to conjure in his childe's mind every sweaty day, every blood-filled night they had ever spent together.

Spike knew what Angelus was trying to do, but there was something he didn't know. Well, that was unfair really. More like something he could never understand.

Love.

Spike loved Angel. Soul or not, he was a decent bloke who tried his best to be the kind of person Spike could respect. He went a bit overboard on the whole self-inflicted pain thing sometimes, but even then Spike understood. He would never be that way, but he understood why Angel was. This < creature > before him on the bed was just that. A creature. An abomination. Not a man, not even a half-breed. He was a beast to be killed or stopped. Spike vowed he would do it. If it meant his life, he would keep Angelus reined in. Caged. Forever.

"You're right, Angelus. I do crave. But it's not you." Fishing his trusty pack of smokes out of their hiding place, Spike flicked his lighter and the yellow flame caused the end of the cigarette to glow orange. After taking a lengthy drag, he walked toward the figure on the bed, and stared down at his chained form. "See, I've had a bit of an epiphany, mate. You are right about one thing. I do have emotions, but you know what? I'm happy. That's right, Angelus. I < like > them. Bet you can't figure out why though." Spike turned on his heels and paced the room while puffing on his cigarette. "Not because they allow me an extra level of torture. Not because it allows me to understand others." He slowly, purposefully, turned around and looked Angelus straight in the eyes. "Because they allow me to live." Angelus just looked at him with confusion. "Yeah, mate. You think everything you do - the torture, the maiming, the stalking, is living? Bullshit. It's existence." Spike snuffed the smoking butt out on the bedpost, then turned back toward Angelus and leaned over the chained form. "You know it all, don't you < Sire >. All about people, you've studied them. Know how they act, do you. Know what they want - or should I say how to get from them what < you > want. But you always made one fatal mistake. You only studied people like yourself." Straightening, Spike resumed his bit of pacing. "See, I've heard all about you, < Liam >. Weren't exactly the upstanding citizen, were you. If you had been, Darla would've turned some other bar rat. She would've looked to turn the fortunes of some other rich, spoiled brat who didn't appreciate his station in life." Spike made his way over to the chair in the corner and slumped down in it. "But no, there you were. Practically beggin' for escape, you were. A child yourself, rebelling against a life you felt was put upon you. What a gift she gave you, indeed." Spike felt the absence of burning in his lungs, and lit up another smoke. "But what happened? You got a carefree life, maybe - `Scourge of Europe' and all that. But you weren't any different, were you. Always about control with you. Always about what you could handle - what was `safe'. Remember all those days we wasted researching the towns we'd moved into? Had to pick the right house, you said. Had to make sure we wouldn't be spotted, that the family was on holiday or something."

Spike stood back up, resuming his pacing. "We were < vampires >, Angelus! For fuck's sake, we could have killed the whole bloody town and who could've stopped us? There's only ever one Slayer, right? Sure, there were a few hunters, but we could've outrun them no trouble. Killed them if they got to be too annoying." Spike slumped back down in the chair and looked directly at Angelus, once more. "Don't you get it, mate? I loved you, yeah. But I'm not a scared little fledge, anymore. I've grown up. I'm a Master Vampire, and if there's one thing I respect - it's control. Over your environment, your minions - your un-life. You never had it. Sure, you controlled us, somewhat, but you were always afraid. Afraid of what you < knew > you couldn't control." Spike looked at Angelus, daring him to say something - < anything >. "That's why I got away from you, you know. I was different. Those emotions you hate so much gave me something you never had. I < like > life, Angelus. However it comes to me. Today human, tomorrow vampire again. It doesn't matter. I like existence. I like food, I like beer," Spike took one last drag on his disappearing cigarette and snuffed it out, "and I like my smokes. I like fights and discussions and history. Hell, Angelus I even like to read. I watch TV, I play cards - do you hear me? None of that is about my image. I don't do it because it's expected. I don't do it because I need to fit in. I do it because it's < me >. I < enjoy > it." Spike looked over at the clock and realized he only had a few more minutes before it was all over. "Got anything else to say, Angelus? C'mon mate, I'm sure there's a retort in there somewhere with my name on it." He waited a moment, but Angelus was staring at the wall across the room."

"I'll kill you, Spike. Someday, I will kill you. I promise."

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard it, mate. `I brought you into this world and I can take you out'. Sing me a new one. That's getting stale." He sat down on the bed next to Angelus, ignoring the murderous glare he got. "You know, there is one thing I'm forgetting here."

"Oh. What's that? The knife? Here, let me roll over for you."

Spike's lip curled up as he regarded his Sire. "No mate. I forgot to thank you. Maybe we aren't the ones meant to be together, but hell, Angelus, you did turn me. It's your fault we're here." Leaning over, Spike lightly brushed his lips against his Sire's. He almost thought he felt a response in return, but broke the contact before it went any further. "Yeah. Thanks. If it makes you feel any better, I've never looked at a steak the same since then." Angelus chuckled at that.

"So it's back to the old grind, eh boy?"

Spike glanced at the clock - mere seconds and it would all be over. "Yeah, I hate you, you hate me," Spike sing-songed in a parody of the 'Barney' theme, " we're a dysfunctional family.."

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

Lost in thought, he almost didn't notice the demon charging at him from a sewer junction. Spike narrowly missed getting his head cleaved off with a sword. He ducked, and backed away. When he raised his head, the demon was wielding the sword again. He thrust his arm up in an attempted block, and shifted sideways. The sword came in contact with his forearm, leaving a nasty cut.

Spike barely noticed the cut, as Angel came into the fight. He'd had the foresight to bring one of his varied weapons. Spike watched in deja-vu awe, as Angel, demon in the fore, clashed with the demon. Weapon on weapon, they fought as if in a vicious dance. The demon slashed; Angel parried. Angel slashed; the demon parried. The demon barely missed Angel's head, and kicked him - sending him reeling. Spike snapped out of his musings and realized what was happening. He then sent a punch flying at the demon's jaw.

Angel, having regained his balance, brought his sword up again. The demon, distracted by Spike, didn't see Angel coming. Angel thrust the sword into the demon's chest. The demon gurgled, and touched the blood oozing out of its chest. Spike yelped in victory. "That got 'im!"

The demon, falling to the ground, tried grabbing Spike's injured arm to break his fall, but Spike howled in pain, and jerked his arm away. Angel was at Spike's side in an instant.

"Are you alright?"

Angel actually looked concerned. Spike turned away to avoid the truth in his Sire's gaze. "Yeah mate, I'm fine. Just didn't feel like getting mixed up with that slimy bugger."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Angel looked over his weapon. "This is gonna be hell to clean." Angel looked over at Spike, and he didn't even seem to be in the same room. "Spike? Hey, is it less slimy where you are?"

"Huh?"

Angel chuckled. "Alright. I get it. Slime bad. Let's go find Buffy and we can get cleaned up." Angel turned away and started heading back toward the main tunnel.

"Hey, Angel wait!" Spike started after him. "The jewel!"

"What are you talking about?"

Spike closed his eyes, and inhaled. He < had > to do this. Make it believable. "Well, ya see mate, I get bored being chained up with Rupert and so sometimes I pass the time by reading his books, you know? Not the boring Watcher ones, the stuff about demons and blood and the like." Good, Angel was giving him the `get on with it, Spike' look. "So, anyway, I think I remember this demon. If I'm right, we have to smash that jewel thingy in his head. If not, well, I'm never one to complain about an extra spot of violence." Giving a trademark grin, he was relieved when Angel tossed him his sword.

"What the hell. It's already slimy. Have fun, Spike."

Spike caught the sword, and was conscious of Angel's footsteps getting further in the distance. `Bloody poetic, isn't it', he thought. `I find him again, shag him again and already he's running away again'. "Well mate, at least you're easy for a distraction." Spike waited a few more minutes for the demon to re-animate before he shoved the sword directly into the jewel. The howl of pain the demon let out was small comfort compared to the pain his heart was giving off. That was it. It was really over.

~fin~