Spike:

His skin burned in itching stripes from his chest to his knees. Angel had been so good with the belt, just like always. God, Spike adored that belt. Supple leather, good, thick weight. It made him want to beg for it. And Angel loved it when he begged.

Presently, he was in his own personal nirvana, senses consumed with the satiny skin and seductive musk of Drusilla's sire. His tongue worked its wet magic around and around the silky rim of Angel's anus, lapping and stroking, teasing it with pleasure. Nudging upward to gain more access, Spike covered that soft pucker with his lips and kissed it, then sucked at it gently. Angel groaned and trembled above him and Spike almost blew his load right there. He knew he had to hold on, to keep his cool. Angel had some wicked plan to further torment Buffy's watcher and Spike didn't want to miss out by coming too soon.

This was all too bloody much fun.

With his eyes closed, he carried on with his mission of sensual torture, almost positive he was enjoying it more than Angel. And then the distinctive sound of two sharp sudden smacks of leather on skin made them both jump and look at Drusilla and the watcher.

She had brought the belt down hard on Giles' twitching thighs, apparently to refocus his attention on the vampires' little performance.

"Was he bad, honey?" Angel asked her.

Merrily, she replied, "No. He just needed smacking." Her lovely face bloomed in the prettiest, most girlish smile and then she whacked Giles' trembling legs again, even harder. The watcher didn't so much as groan, but he did appear to have swallowed his teeth.

Angel laughed and looked down at Spike. "How the hell did you survive all these years alone with her?"

Grinning, he said, "I've learned to be very, very well-behaved."

"Mmmm," the brunette agreed softly, his fingers playing in the short curls at the back of Spike's neck. "You certainly have. Maybe a little too well." Leaning forward, he covered Spike's mouth with his own and kissed him, deep and sweet, taking his time like he always did when he was just about ready to be poked. Spike could tell by the way Angel moved. He was trying to draw out his pleasure. His long limbs were tense and defined, his chest rose and fell with rapid reflexive breaths and his lips seemed to gather every bit of heat available in his body. Angel's kisses were so wanton when he was on the edge, so full of craving. He seemed to want to be touched everywhere, but most specifically . . . he wanted to be fucked. Hard.

Against the kiss, Angel whispered. "Do you want the belt again?"

With their eyelashes teasing each other, Spike kissed Angel's pretty mouth hungrily. "Not now," he said. "I think I'd like to get you off."

Angel grinned a crooked grin. "I love it when you say that."

Spike winked. "Why don't you pull our guest's chair a bit closer."

"You read my mind, you bad boy." Eyelids heavy with lust, Angel turned around to face the watcher and Drusilla. For a moment, he just stood there looking at Giles and their lovely girl, taking in the magnificent spectacle of suffering before him. "Poor Rupert," he began. "You look terribly uncomfortable. Why don't you come a little closer to us and relax a bit." He reached down and dragged the watcher's chair by its seat until it almost touched Spike's chair. The blond's legs slipped neatly underneath so that Giles was practically sitting in his lap.

Angel stood straddling the watcher's trembling legs, his nice thick cock erect and twitching so very near the struggling man's sweating face. Spike could see around Angel's narrow hip and he watched Giles' expressions closely. So stoic, this one. So very determined not to falter. Willing the librarian to look at him, Spike waited until their eyes met. Then he tipped forward and bit Angel's smooth buttcheek, almost breaking the skin.

"Hey, hey, hey," the brunette warned mildly, reaching down to tug Spike's hair. "I've got other plans for those teeth."

Spike giggled devilishly. "The watcher made me do it. He wishes HE could."

"Oh, come on, Spike. We don't know that," Angel said sarcastically. "I mean, just because he's sitting there with the biggest boner in the room doesn't necessarily mean he's into me. It could be all about you, for all we know."

"Could it, now," Spike growled, eyes flashing menacingly at Giles. "Maybe I should let him suck me off. See what he's got."

The librarian glowered fiercely and that set Spike off giggling again.

"No," Angel said, pressing against Spike with his hips and lowering down. "I was thinking we'd have him clean up, instead." He spread his legs a little more, then held on to the back of Giles' chair for support. From there, Spike had to drive and he was more than happy to get in gear.

Stroking his hands up Angel's back and then down to his hips, Spike took hold of the brunette's lean body and guided him down . . . down . . . into position. His own cock trembled and dripped, reaching for that willing pink hole. Pressing the swollen head against Angel's pucker, he took in a big breath and held it. This was the best bit-the penetration. Emptying his lungs in a long sigh, he applied just a little more pressure to his grip and drew Angel down onto his straining erection.

The tight ring of muscle tried to give him resistance at first and then it opened to him, grasping the tingling head of his cock and holding onto it. Spike groaned with pleasure as all those wonderful nerves sparked to life, then he urged Angel's body down further until the resistance gave way all together. Slowly, his cock slid into that slick, velvety canal. That time, Angel breathed a moan and the sound was naked with lust.

Once he was in, Spike rested there for a moment, enjoying the luscious pressure surrounding him and also trying to gain a bit more control. Angel's muscles began to work instinctively, gently squeezing then releasing Spike's tense cock. If he kept that up, it would all be over in a few seconds. Spike dug his fingers into the brunette's smooth cheeks and scratched him, telling him wordlessly to stop the internal rub-down.

Angel uttered a deep laugh, then spread his legs a little more. Around his side, Spike could see the watcher's face. Apparently, he'd tried to look away, because Drusilla was holding onto the sides of his head, forcing him to face forward. She gave Spike a loving smile, then leaned in to kiss Angel's mouth. Never being one to enjoy watching that, Spike closed his eyes and concentrated on the action at hand. Funny how that was. Seeing his girl getting fucked by Angel always drove him mad with lust, but watching her kiss Angel made him want to heave.

Besides, he wanted all of Angel's kisses for himself.

Focusing his energy, Spike held onto those pretty hips and began pushing and pulling Angel's body up and down along the stiff shaft of his cock. This was the way they had been doing it since Angel returned, seeing as Spike's back had been out of commission. Even though he'd been missing the rush of driving his cock in and out with the grace and agility of his own hips, he had grown to really enjoy watching Angel's perfect ass rise and fall in his lap. In that position, Spike could see everything. He loved watching his erection slide in and out, growing fuller and fuller as he neared his orgasm. He also loved petting Angel's long back and stroking his hands over that beautiful tattoo. Angel purred and sighed under those strokes, his powerful thighs working harder and harder as their intensity grew.

Spike was so close to coming, he really had to fight for control. He was feeding off Angel's intense desire, burning from it like dry leaves in a forest fire. Having Buffy's sniveling watcher observing the whole thing made containing himself that much more difficult. Spike loved to be watched while engaged in sexual play. Always had. Having an audience somehow made him feel more powerful, more alluring. Being watched made him feel coveted.

Using his hands, he maneuvered Angel's hips just slightly this way and that, up and back, feeling for the engorged, itching prostate with the hard tip of his cock. Not steering himself made this a might fiddly, but he'd done it enough times to have learned the proper tricks. And he could feel in the response that Angel loved being so forcefully directed by his hands. He loved the possessive way Spike handled him.

Moving together like a machine, their thrusts became more and more even and quick. They were in tune, liquid, flowing through each other with each impulsive breath. They breathed only to take in the other's erotic scent and soon they were both panting.

Angel's body began to shudder and his strong legs propelled his movements faster and faster. Spike could tell by his deep groans and by the swelling pressure inside his body that he was right on the edge. And then, Angel arched his spine, still holding onto the watcher's chair, and threw his head back as he moaned from the bottom of his belly.

The contractions yanked Spike's own orgasm right out of him and before he knew it, he was pumping fluid into Angel's convulsing body, reeling and gasping in bright ecstasy. As his orgasm crested, he felt all the belt marks on his skin simmer with sensation, making him feel like he was coming with every inch of his body.

He froze and let his partner dictate the movement, knowing Angel was hyper-sensitive in that instant. The wrong sort of pressure would wreck the whole thing for him, and that tended to make him a bad sort of cranky. Spike slipped his hand up between Angel's legs, stroking his spurting cock very gently, just coaxing out more tingles. He placed a hard kiss on Angel's back and continued petting him, worshipping him, adoring him. In fact, he felt like a bit of a god for bringing Angel so much satisfaction.

Truth was, that was Spike's favorite part.

In those fleeting seconds of spasming bliss, Angel was his prisoner. Spike knew he was the only one allowed to fuck the proud bastard-the only one who would ever get to-and that knowledge made him want to burst with supercilious pride. The only reason Angel chose Spike to please him in this manner was because Spike was so bloody good at it. He knew he had Drusilla to thank for his prowess. She had been his first real erotic lover and she had also been a patient and very thorough teacher. Added to that, she came to him already an expert on the things that pleased their beloved Angel.

Just as he closed his eyes to let himself be taken away by the ebbing pleasure, Angel severed their connection by standing up and he almost lost his balance in the process. Spike held onto his hips to steady him, then peered around the brunette's side to see what was going on.

Angel was panting and his skin shimmered golden-pink with blood sweat. He touched his still erect, bobbing cock with his fingers, gathering two big drops of semen from the engorged, reddened tip. Spike bit his bottom lip as he watched his wicked mentor bring his fingers to Giles' mouth and force them between his lips.

"Hold him, Dru," Angel instructed, the words coming out in a hiss through his clenched teeth. "Rupert wants to a taste."

"Oh, Angelus! That's just . . . MEAN." Spike chucked admiringly, showing his appreciation of this new and humiliating deed. There were so many times in the last few weeks when Angel had shocked him with his brutality. Spike had simply forgotten how incredibly evil he truly was. The being reminded was a constant source of laughs, though, and this moment was no exception. Spike himself would never have thought to make the watcher do this. This was just bloody cruel.

Angel stepped forward enough to close the distance between his naked, sated body and Rupert Giles. Drusilla held the librarian's head steady and her indigo eyes glittered happily as she waited Angel's next move.

Grasping Giles' chin, Angel pulled his face forward until his nose touched the brunette's flat, tightly muscled belly-just below the navel, where it was nice and slippery. "Lick me clean, Rupert," he growled. "Don't miss a drop."

Of course, the watcher had no intention of doing this and he remained staunchly still while Angel pressed his belly against his sweating, battered face. For a moment, it appeared to be a stand-off, and then-to Spike's complete and utter shock-the librarian opened his mouth and willingly licked at Angel's semen and sweat-slick skin.

Like she always did when she was excited, Drusilla began to hum and rock slightly, watching these proceedings with spellbound attention. "Oh, my . . ." she said and that pretty much said it all.

Spike's jaw had dropped open and presently he snapped it shut, watching Giles carry out this most degrading act with what seemed like calm resignation. Clearly, he was willing to struggle and fight about most things-but this thing . . . for some reason . . . was beyond his defiance. With growing curiosity, Spike watched the librarian's every move, fascinated by each soft, almost affectionate lap of his tongue.

Angel moaned softly in satisfaction, then he let go of Giles' chin and let his arms relax at his sides. If someone had happened upon the scene at that moment, it would have appeared like a kinky but consensual orgy. Spike was far too wary of the watcher to let him catch them off-guard, though. He softly scratched Angel's sides to bring his attention back to the fact that Giles was their prisoner and might not exactly have the best intentions in mind.

"That's enough, isn't it?" he said, looking up at Angel perplexedly. "The old boy's teeth are far too close to your tender bits, peaches."

Sighing, Angel slid his fingers into Giles' sweat soaked hair and drew the man's head back forcing him to look up. "He won't bite me, boy. He's too afraid of me. He's getting off on this, anyway." He tugged at the librarian's hair roughly and the man let out a short, rasping groan. "Rupert, are you ready to talk to me about Acathla, yet?" Angel said, his chest still rising and falling rapidly with the remains of his sexual exertion. His dark hair clung to his forehead and cheeks, making him look far younger than he was.

The librarian's lips were slick with sweat and semen and the cuts on his face trickled blood. His eyes glimmered into Angel's with fresh hatred and then he seemed to realize what he had just done. His expression crumpled and he lowered his eyes, apparently too ashamed to hold his tormentor's gaze a moment longer.

"Look at me, buddy," Angel insisted and then waited until the Englishman obeyed. "The ritual?"

Taking a shaky breath, Rupert Giles said, "I am NOT afraid of you."

Angel blinked then started to laugh bitterly. "Is that so? Well, then, clearly I am just not BITCH enough to get this job done." He released the librarian's hair then his hand dropped between the man's legs and quickly, brutally, violently extracted the dildo. Giles' jaw clenched and his eyes watered, but otherwise he remained amazingly silent.

Tossing the rubber toy aside, Angel stepped around the back of Giles' chair and perched his chin on Drusilla's shoulder. "Sweet girl?"

"Yes, Daddy," she purred lovingly.

"I'm going to leave this stubborn little man with you because apparently, I'm just not nasty enough for him. We don't want our guest to get bored now, do we? Why don't you see what you can do to entertain him."

She laughed in a long, breathy sigh and kissed Angel's cheek. "I'll get him to tell us all Acathla's secrets, Daddy. I promise."

Angel looked at Spike and fluttered his lashes playfully, seductively. "Why don't you come and take a little nap with me, Spike? We don't want to distract Dru from her work."

Taking hold of the wheels, Spike moved himself back and away from the suffering Englishman, then rolled across the floor ahead of Angel. As he passed, he blew his girl a kiss and she winked at him.

"You boys have a nice rest," she said. "Get your strength back. Mr. Giles and I are going to play some games."

He couldn't help but grin as Drusilla instructed two of the minion-sentries to help her stand the old boy up against he wall. He knew she was going to put him in a world of hurt like he'd never imagined and he sort of wished he could stay and watch. But Angel clearly had other plans for him.

And Spike had a little surprise for his wicked and wonderful Angelus, anyway.

Out in the main room, Angel told him to wait in his chambers while he got them something to drink. Spike wheeled into the warm room and inhaled deeply as the brunette's rich scent filled his senses. Discarded clothing littered the floor and he had to fight the urge to grab a garment and shove the fabric to his face. Angel's smell was painfully delicious to him. Everytime, no matter what the circumstance, that smell practically made him drool with lust.

Glancing back at the open door, he made sure no one else was coming. And then he stretched his legs, wiggled his toes and stood right up out of that sodding chair.

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

Giles:

The hulking minions tied him against the wall with coarse rope and never bothered to pull up his trousers. Why would they, really? He was already beyond all humiliation as it was.

He ached everywhere, but mostly at his broken bones and his anus. His eyes still watered uncontrollably from the indescribable pain of having that dreadful instrument torn from his body. It had been far worse coming out than going in.

On top of all that, he was deeply appalled by his own behavior. When he thought about it, he could hardly believe he'd let himself react in any favorable way to the humiliation Angel rained down on him. The erection he'd been powerless to control, the way he'd opened his mouth and lapped at the beast's semen like some wanton whore. Giles could not account for his actions. He had no idea why he'd done those things . . . well, that wasn't entirely true. Way down deep, there was a flicker of an idea, but he'd die before he'd let it see the light of day. For the time being, it was easier to consider himself temporarily insane and ultimately unforgivable.

Even with the impending torture he felt certain Drusilla would inflict on him, the worst part of the entire situation was the taste in his mouth. Angel's spunk lingered on his tongue, the pungent flavor seeming to cling to his tastebuds. It was surprisingly clean-crisp, even-like celery. When he'd seen it gushing out as that monster hit his peak, Giles had been unwillingly mesmerized by the color and texture of the fluid. It had the appearance of rich strawberry cream. Of course it did. It was made primarily of blood. And it tasted like pennies that had been eroded in sea water.

As Drusilla stepped slowly toward him, he noticed she was holding two large metal clamps. Presumably, she intended to affix them to his nipples, but he supposed she might try attaching them to his testicles, as well. Giles took a ragged, weary breath.

Whatever she was planning, he felt a calm certainty that things couldn't get much worse than they already had. In fact, being tortured with nothing but violence would actually be a blessing.

*****

Angel:

When he came into his bedroom he saw Spike's wheelchair, but he didn't see Spike. He turned to close the door and flinched in surprise as his eyes met those cunning, sparkling blue ones. Grinning, Spike lunged forward and pushed the astonished Angel across the room until they both collapsed on the bed.

Laughing wickedly, the blond pinned Angel's arms to the mattress and straddled him with all his natural strength. "Guess what?" he said, his voice low and growly, seductive.

Unable to keep from laughing, Angel drew his knees up from behind the younger vampire and tried to topple him between them. It felt wonderful to wrestle with him again. Angel hadn't realized how much he was missing it.

"When did this happen?"

"Shhhhhh . . ." Spike whispered, leaning forward to kiss Angel's mouth. "I don't want to tell Dru yet. I want to surprise her." He rubbed their noses together softly. "Like I just did you."

"I'm sure she'll be thrilled," he said, tugging against Spike's grip on his wrists. "But not as thrilled as I am. Let go. I need to touch you."

A subtle change occurred on Spike's face then, just like Angel knew it would. His expression went from playful teasing to a bare mixture of desire and vulnerability. He wanted Angel to touch him-to touch him everywhere at once. It showed all over his face how much he wanted Angel to need him. Slowly, the blond released his wrists while at the same time, leaning down to kiss him again.

Angel rolled over on top of him, sliding his arms around the young one's lower back, pulling him close . . . so close, they were almost mashed together. If they had needed to breathe, they both would have been out of luck. He knew Spike loved being squeezed like that, crushed in his embrace. Before he got injured, this action always made the blond whimper with pleasure and wind his slender legs around Angel's hips. When that very thing happened, Angel felt a shiver run through his body. He'd missed this. He'd missed it a lot.

Their sexual hunger was still on the wane from their recent romp, but they kissed greedily nonetheless. Knowing Dru had no idea her boy had regained his full mobility made it all the more exciting for Angel. He loved secrets. But something about the way Spike had looked when he explained his reason for holding out on her made him think the boy was lying. He would find out. As long as he kept tormenting Spike with those wet, sucking kisses he loved, the willful young thing would reveal himself.

Eventually.

Twisting on the bed, they rolled over and over each other, playfully vying for dominance. Angel was fatigued from all his exertions with the watcher and he did want a bit of a rest, but Spike's kisses were so luscious. For a moment, he won the battle for mattress supremacy and he pinned the blond's wrists above his head, looking down into those mischievous blue eyes.

"So," Angel breathed. "You're all healed now, huh?"

"Uh huh," Spike said, grinning.

"Well, that means you've got the use of your naughty little hips back, right?"

"It does, indeed."

"Right . . ." Smirking, Angel leaned down and first put kisses on Spike's neck-soft and gentle, slightly nibbling just below the ear. Extending his tongue, he licked the savory skin there, nuzzling into the soft crook of flesh and sighing to raise the hairs at the back of Spike's neck. And then, he slipped his upper fangs down into the young one's throat, piercing him with brutal precision.

Spike froze, then moaned gratefully, his thighs tightening around Angel's hips to give him more leverage. His cock swelled quickly against Angel's belly as the older vampire began drawing on the wounds. The more Angel sucked, the harder Spike got and soon he was grinding his full erection into the tender flesh above Angel's navel.

"That's it," the brunette murmured, lapping drops of Spike's thick, honey-sweet blood away from his neck. "Get that pretty dick stiff for me, boy. You made me wait so long, you owe me a good hard fuck."

Growling and panting, Spike ground against him fervently to illustrate his intense desire to comply.

"You know what I like . . ." Angel purred, stroking his hands down Spike's outstretched arms until he reached the vulnerable indentations of his armpits. He pet the soft blondish hairs there with his fingers, teasing it, tugging at it gently, then he pinched the tender flesh a bit roughly.

Spike frowned, bit his own bottom lip and stared into Angel's eyes with hot longing. "Ticklish . . ." he warned.

"Reeeeeally?" Angel teased. "I had no idea. Hold still."

Wriggling from the nearly unpleasant sensation, Spike tried to lower his arms but Angel's hands held them up.

"I said, hold still," he hissed.

"I'm ticklish, you wanker! Don't bloody DO that!" His smooth brow crinkled angrily and Angel giggled.

"Such a baby, Spike. Get over it. If you weren't so yummy in here, I wouldn't have to keep touching you in this horrible, ticklish spot. Now be quiet and keep rubbing on my belly . . . you have a job to do." He lowered his head again and pressed Spike's arms down just below the elbow, holding them up and totally exposing their underside.

Spike groaned half in misery and half in ecstasy, because he adored being smothered in Angel's attention. He did as he was told and kept rubbing his swollen cock on his grandsire's taut belly. The more he rubbed, the slicker the skin became with his oozing pre-come. Angel loved that feeling . . . loved watching it leak out of the slit and slide down the tense shaft. While he kissed Spike's sensitive under arms, he recalled a particular incident over a hundred years ago where he'd tortured the boy for hours with a long, slow blowjob-suspending him right on the edge of orgasm just to keep that delicious clear fluid flowing. By the time Angel finally let him come, Spike had passed out from the prolonged tension. And the big baby had never let him do that again.

Those silky hairs were slightly damp and Angel licked them, combing them with his tongue slowly. Spike flinched and wiggled under him, trying so hard not to whine but Angel knew the poor boy was suffering. The knowing made his blood rush with arousal. Spike may have been smaller than him, but they were quite well matched in strength. The fact that he was allowing Angel to torment him in this way was a perfect example of Spike's willingness to please. Angel loved that. It made him hard all over again.

He sank his teeth into the plump spot between Spike's armpit and his left nipple, biting hard to break the skin there. He sucked harshly, growling with pleasure and then he felt the young one struggling purposefully underneath him. Clearly, Spike intended to get away that time.

Angel held on, asserting his dominance and larger size for as long as he could. Wiry and quick, Spike managed to get free and he heaved Angel's body over on the mattress, covering him and kissing him covetously.

"Want lube?" he growled against the kiss.

Angel chuckled and bit the blond's lip until it bled. "What, are you kidding? Fuck me."

Not one to ever need a second invitation, Spike hooked Angel's legs behind the knees with his hands and lifted them, pressing the long thighs back until they were almost flush against his belly. The stretch was slightly uncomfortable, but Angel didn't complain. This was the best part.

Gripping the covers with his fingers, he steadied himself for the inevitable burning. Spike's thick cock was full and wet at the tip and the pre-come that had already collected there eased the penetration somewhat-but not an awful lot. When that swollen head pressed into his tight, still tender opening, Angel couldn't help but cry out.

"Awwwww . . ." Spike chided, panting with arousal. "Come on, peaches. You're not goin' all nancy-boy on me, are ya?" He shoved his hips forward, impaling Angel on his hard cock, pushing in until his balls pressed the brunette's butt cheeks. Then, he scooted forward, raising up onto his knees for balance. This adjustment lifted Angel's hips high in the air, almost up-ending him. They both groaned in satisfaction, then grinned at each other like drunken cowboys.

"That's it, boy," Angel urged, breathlessly. "Give it to me." He dug his fingers into Spike's tense thighs, squeezing until he made imprints in the pale flesh. He could feel those rigid cords of muscle working under the skin, tightening and extending as the blond began to work his hips.

Angel had been waiting ages for this. When he learned that Spike's back had been injured in that church, Angel's first thought was to wonder how long it would take him to heal. At the time, of course, his soul had prevented him from saying it outloud because that would have been . . . well, inappropriate for such a chaste defender of the righteous. But he'd thought about it and thought about it repeatedly. He dreamed of it, in fact. Everytime Angel saw Spike in that wheelchair, he couldn't help but look forward to the day he would get out.

To the day when they would be just where they were at that moment once again-powerless to the lust, slaves to the rhythm and willing prisoners of their dark, enchanted need for each other.

Time seemed to stop as they locked eyes. Spike stared down at him, his hips pumping in deep, even thrusts, and Angel matched his breath to each outward motion. He sighed and moaned, loving the feeling of that engorged cock rubbing all his most sensitive places inside. The slight burn from the friction around the skin of his anus only added to the pleasure, giving the sensations another depth, another layer. He heard himself telling Spike how good it felt, murmuring filthy words and perverted compliments. His prostate swelled and itched everytime that gorgeous erection stroked it.

"Nice?" Spike whispered, breathing hard, his skin shimmering with sweat.

Angel couldn't answer. He just moaned and squeezed the young one's cock with his grateful internal muscles in response. Almost lost in the pleasure, he closed his eyes and let himself float for a moment . . . feeling the tingling orgasm gathering deep inside him. It started at his nipples and then vibrated across his skin, down into his guts and out to the tips of his fingers. Groaning, he said something he couldn't understand-just words-sounds, tonal indications of the state Spike was putting him into. His fingers gripped those lean, powerful thighs again and dug in and then he felt his toes curling in the air behind Spike's shoulders. The bliss was so near. Without any direct stimulation to his hard, wet cock, Angel would be coming like a schoolboy in no time.

It was always this way-like a trainwreck of pleasure. Angel felt the muscles in his torso constrict and tense and then he felt like he was being hurled off a cliff. Falling, falling, spinning and flying and then that wide open second of motionlessness right before the contractions crashed in. So many layers of ecstasy. He screamed through each one of them.

And Spike was screaming, too . . . somewhere that seemed really far away. But Angel loved the sound. That gravelly deep voice, arched to its higher ranges, making no sense at all but speaking a universal language of pleasure. Every creature Angel had ever encountered knew the meaning of this sound. Surrender, submission, totally willing defeat.

They collapsed on each other, gasping and Spike's still twitching cock slipped out of him. For an instant, Angel felt like he wanted to put it back-like he never wanted to be separated again-but then, just as quickly as it had come, that feeling evaporated. His exhaustion returned, two-fold from having another orgasm so soon after the first. All those chemicals that made human males conk out right after sex were still at work in his vampire body. Funny how some things held over and others were simply lost in the translation.

Spike sprawled onto his back on the bed, chest rising and falling reflexively, skin glowing with sex sweat. Angel watched him for a long moment, feeling more than ever that there was something going on with him . . . something the young one wasn't sharing.

"Why don't you want to tell Dru you're well?" he said, presenting the question again.

"Told you," Spike replied, still needlessly collecting his breath. "I want to surprise her."

Eyelids getting heavier and heavier, Angel kept talking even though he knew he was about to fall asleep. "Spike," he said and the blond looked over at him. "What's the real reason?"

Frowning irritably, Spike said "what are you on about?"

"I'm asking you to tell me the truth because I know you're not," Angel said. Adrenaline made him open his eyes fully again and they stared at each other. "Why did you want me to know and not her?"

"It's not that," he said weakly. He tried to look away again, but Angel reached for his chin and turned it toward him.

"You can't lie to me when you're looking at me, William," he said, his tone soft and manipulative. "Tell me."

Spike's handsome face crinkled and he sighed miserably. "Look, I don't want to say because you'll go off on me about it. I'm not in the mood to listen to you take the piss right now."

Sighing, Angel scooted over on the bed until they were pressed against each other. He drew the soft blankets over their legs, then draped an arm possessively over Spike's hard belly. "I'm too tired to take the piss," he said. "Just tell me. Or I'll be forced to tickle it out of you, which is never pretty."

Spike tensed beside him, then he let out a long, frustrated sigh. "I don't want to tell her yet because . . ."

"Hmmm?"

"Because she wants to leave once I'm mended. She wants to go back to Vienna."

Angel closed his eyes, but his brow furrowed. "What do you mean, she wants to leave? Have we all completely forgotten about Acathla? Once I make that goddamned librarian tell me how to do the ritual, we're ALL gonna leave, Spike! The three of us will be laughin' happy in a whole new dimension."

"Yeah," the blond murmured, his voice rough with doubt.

Angel lifted his head and offered an ill-tempered scowl. "What the hell is this? You don't believe I can do it?"

"That's just it, Angel," he said softly. "I know you can. I'm just not sure . . . I'm on board with your reasons why."

For a long time, they just looked at each other-Spike seeming to be wondering if he was about to be torn in half and Angel was trying to figure out why he wasn't flying into a fit of rage.

"So, it's dissention in the ranks?" he asked.

"Dru hasn't said anything," Spike told him. "You know her. She'll do anything you ask. Go anywhere you take her." His tone shifted to one of wounded sarcasm. "You are her angel. Her daddy."

Meanly, Angel snickered. "You hate that, don't you, boy? Makes you so jealous, you could spit out your own ribs."

"Sod off," the blond snapped, but he did not move out of their embrace. Neither did Angel.

"Well, if she said she wanted to leave once you're mended, then Drusilla doesn't think I can make this happen, either. She thinks we're all gonna wake up here on Earth again tomorrow." Angel shook his head. "That's dissention! You bastards. If nothing else, that just sucks! She, of all people, is always supposed to believe in me."

Spike rolled his eyes. "You conceited wanker. You're so bloody thick. She DOES believe in you! That's what I just got through tellin' you."

Still, they remained softly wrapped around each other under the blanket. In fact, Angel put his head down again and sighed, getting comfortable for the nap he came in there to take.

"Angel," Spike whispered.

"I'm not talking to you," he grumbled. "Let me sleep."

Shifting under the blankets, Spike rolled them onto their sides so they were looking at each other again. Angel glowered, annoyed by the disturbance.

"I said, let me sleep!"

"Listen to me," Spike began. "Why not just . . . sod this whole Acathla thing. Just-change your mind. Let the watcher go and then we can all get the fucking hell out of Sunnydale. We can go someplace together-the three of us. We can be a family again someplace where the slayer and her little band of merry helpers are NOT."

"We ARE going someplace together, Spike," Angel insisted, beginning to wonder if he'd been talking to a wall this whole time. "Haven't you noticed that big ugly stone guy in the livingroom?

"Of course I have-have YOU? Have you even thought this plan through? What if this dimension you and your buddy Acathla throw us into isn't quite what you thought? What if we end up someplace where we get chucked to the bottom of the food chain? Did you ever think of that, mate?"

"You're annoying me."

"What else is new?" Spike flopped down on the bed dismally. He opened his mouth to say something else, but was curtly interrupted by a high-pitched scream from the main room. The scream was followed by a volley of Drusilla's dry giggles which made the two of them bust out laughing, despite the serious nature of their conversation.

"Jesus," Angel chuckled. "Poor bastard. Maybe I should go rescue him."

Spike shook his head. "Nah. Leave him be. The old boy's probably relieved to have you out of the room for a minute. Such a vicious distraction, you are."

Licking his lips, Angel grinned smugly. "Yeah, that's somethin' else, huh? The way he's so into me. I wonder if Buffy knows about that."

"Yeah. You're irresistible," Spike muttered, looking down at the blanket that covered them. For a long time, neither of them said anything and then the blond looked at Angel hesitantly. "If you did change your mind . . . and we all did wake up here on Earth tomorrow . . . would you . . . come to Vienna with us?"

Letting out a long breath, Angel smiled at the young one almost sweetly. "That's it, isn't it? That's why you won't tell Dru you're healed. She wants to leave and you know I won't go with you. You don't want to leave ME."

Spike looked away again, his jaw tightening so hard Angel could see it through his thin cheeks.

"Isn't that sweet." Angel laid down again, resting his head on Spike's chest. "It doesn't matter, anyway. I'm gonna do it. Watch me. We'll all be together-but we won't be here."

After a long time, Spike spoke very softly. "Right," he said. "No talking to you, then."

"Nope. So, shut your hole and let me rest, all right?" Angel said, feeling sleep coming for him like a huge black-winged bird.

"Yep," the young one said decisively.

But something in his tone struck a wrong note in Angel's mind as he drifted off to sleep. When he felt Spike slide out of bed, dress and leave the factory through a window in his room a few hours later, he wasn't sure if he was dreaming or not.

Where could the boy be going when Angel was so very close to making his wicked dream come true? What could that petulant brat possibly have to do at such a time?

Angel wondered, but not enough to actually wake up and investigate. He figured he'd find out sooner or later.

the end