Awkwardness ensues.

Burning questions. Painful answers.

And above all- silence.

I stare at him, my Angel, my sire… and my senses are just getting stronger now. Second by second, I'm orienting myself to the world again.

And it's a sickening realization that this faint disgusting odor, that's been slowly getting worse, is my sire. More to the point- his soul. I can smell it on him. I can smell the good in him and it sickens me. Even worse is my own love for him.

I have to get away.

"Maybe-" he starts to say, but I growl.

"I'm leaving," I state and even as I speak the words I see immense pain, the soul's pain, flash across his face and I have to get away. As much as I love him, I have to get away.

"Spike, I think if-"

"No," I cut him off. "I'm leaving," I repeat and head for the lobby.

But we made love.

How can he leave if we made love? How can he go after having been so close again? I *know* he felt it. I *know* he did. I just don't understand how he can want to go *now*.

I blink and realize he's gone upstairs and I dart up after him.

"Spike!" I call and rush into his room where he's got a bag open for a few of his CDs and a couple pairs of jeans.

"Just- let me go," he pleads with me, but I grab his arm. I grab him and pull him against me and kiss him, harshly, possessively. I feel him reacting to me, trying to resist, but he can't. I'm his sire. "I'm your *sire*," I say softly.

"And I was your childe," he whispers, "But you still left because you couldn't be with us."

We're on that again? I release his arms and he resumes packing. "I thought we'd moved past that," I state. "I thought this was a fresh start for both of us. I thought you loved me."

He freezes in his tracks, back to me. I can almost *feel* the veins in his forehead throbbing the way they do when he's upset or angry. "I *do*," he says quietly, "but I can *smell* the soul on you, Angelus, and it makes me *sick*."

Oh.

I didn't wanna tell him. I didn't want him to know. That's why I was leaving.

I didn't wanna hurt him.

I turn around slowly and look at him. He's wounded. He's hurting and I can feel that too. This is why vampires shouldn't fall in love.

He crumbles helplessly into the chair in the corner of the room and I finish packing my bag.

When I'm finished, I zip it and pick it up before walking to the door. "I love you, Angel. I'll always be a part of you, but- I can't be what I am with you right now."

"You're going to kill," he states disbelieving.

"Maybe all I really am is a killer," I reply.

"I don't believe that. You're William. My Will."

"Maybe I was. Maybe I am. But I can't figure that out *here*."

"Don't go," he says but I can't listen. Can't let my heart decide when the blood is making the choice.

"I'll be back, Liam. For you, I'll be back."

~*~*~*~*~

There was a day when the thought of me being with my sire again was as foreign to me as a Tibetan monk's arse. I never imagined that I'd have ever even *seen* him again, let alone *be* with him. Yet there I was, sleeping next to him every day, working with him every night, for three years. *Three* *years*.

I was in love with him. I *am* in love with him.

And that same love is tearing me apart inside right now.

I ran across town. I hopped in my DeSoto and sped across the great city of Los Angeles.

I'm sure he knows I'm still around, because I know he is. Just like Miami. But I'm not supposed to think about that. I'm supposed to think about other things, like blood and killing and sex. I'm supposed to be evil.

I'm evil. *Evil* *evil* *evil*.

What did I once tell Dru? I'm a bad, rude man. But I'm not a man, not anymore and where the fuck does that leave me? What the hell am I? Because I'll be damned if *I* know.

Things used to be so damn clear. Angelus was my sire. Dru was my quasi-mate. Darla was a bitch. And we all hated to love each other and loved to hate each other. But we had one thing in common. Blood.

But now Dru is gone and Darla went with her. And Angel is… Angel.

Even as I sit in this hotel room, I can feel him across town, wandering around in the hotel, wondering where I am and why I had to leave. He, of all people, should understand.

I don't know where this leaves me, besides awake.

I'm awake.

I'm starving and awake and empty and full and I. HATE. THIS.

I growl and throw the chair against the opposite wall, hitting the mirror and shattering it. Not a problem. Not my hotel room. Stole the keys off someone in the bar. Should have killed him. If I were evil, I would have. If I were truly evil, I would have snapped his neck in the bathroom and then fucked Dru on his wife's corpse in this very bed.

******

"Spike?" She asked.

"Yes, my queen?"

"Would you love me even if I had no toes?"

"Of course I would, Dru. I'd love you even if your toes turned to mice and scampered away. Eyeballs to entrails, my pet." I slipped my arm around her waist and knocked on the door.

"Hello?" A woman answered. "May I help you?"

"Unfortunately, we have some bad news. Your husband… he… why don't we sit down?"

"Oh yes, of course. Please come in," she said softly, wondering what could have happened to her husband.

"Don't mind if we do, Dear," Dru growled and lunged after her. And oh the screams!

~*~*~*~*~

"She's dead!" Dru giggled. "Her belly didn't look nearly as pretty on the inside, Spike."

I glance down at the mutilated corpse. "No, it doesn't. But ya know what *would* be pretty?" I whispered seductively as I crawled up the bed toward my dark goddess. "Your pretty little titties covered in her messies."

"Oh, Spike!"

******

Oh the blood that night! The pictures Dru and I painted on the walls… how the woman's blood was just ever flowing. Dru's hair, matted to her head by blood, crimson, flowing, dripping… Fuck.

I'M EVIL! Damn it. Why am I sitting here thinking about how not evil I am? I *am* evil.

I'm a killer.

~*~*~*~*~

I'm evil. I'm Spike, William the fuckin' Bloody. I'm a killer. I'm a demon and I'm evil.

"I'M EVIL!" I growl into the night as I walk toward a popular shopping area. I'm evil, dammit.

I can't ignore this throbbing in my veins, the itch in my fangs… I'm so hungry; it's tearing me apart.

I can't walk away from the pull of the blood, the hunt, the feed, and the kill. I can't. I CAN'T.

It all smells so delicious! Innocence. Guilt. Fear. Pain. Hunger. Life. Love. Adoration. I can pick out each one in the air and it floods my senses and tells me to kill. Feed. And I'm evil. It's what I do.

Yesss… there she is. Warm. Young. Supple. Innocent. I can practically taste her on my tongue already.

That's it, little girl. Walk into a dark alley where *anything* can happen to you. Lovely.

I used to *love* this part. I loved growling softly, making them sweat. Humans are *gorgeous* when they know they're in trouble. I wait until she pulls her cell phone out and then I'm right in front of her in the blink of an eye.

"Going somewhere?" I ask.

"Huh? Wh- there's… something back there. I… I heard it." She's terrified, shaking actually.

"Something?"

"I don't… I heard it. I don't know… I have to get out of here."

She starts to walk around me, but I step in her way again. "Not tonight."

"What? No… I'm… I've gotta go. My daughter…"

NO! I don't care. I'm a killer. Less talking and more killing.

"Doesn't matter now," I say, letting my fangs come out and swallowing her scream as I cover her mouth with mine, forcing a kiss on her, before sliding my fangs down to her throat.

I'm a killer. I can do this. I *will* do this because I'm a killer. A demon. An animal.

I sink my fangs into her throat and "My Baby!" she whimpers, "My Angel!"

BLOODY FUCKIN' HELL!

I growl and release her. God dammit! "WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?" I scream. "THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE EASY! I DRINK, YOU DIE!"

She's shocked and bleeding. I can taste her sweet, warm blood on my tongue and she's… running. Away.

NO! I chase after her. I grab her arm and yank her to me.

"Please," she whimpers. "Please, my daughter… I can't leave her alone. She's my angel! Please!"

She's crying and terrified that she'll never see her daughter again and my knees give out as I fall to the ground and she tears her arm away from me and runs screaming from the alley.

What the hell is *wrong* with me?!

~*~*~*~*~

I want to know what they put in that chip. I want to know what it was made of and how it worked. Perhaps *that* will explain what the fuck is happening to me.

Love is a disease. An infectious disease and I can feel it swimming inside me as I sit.

Why, out of the thousands of other vampires in the world, do *I* have to be the only one who can love without a soul?

I sure as hell didn't *love* that woman, but I let her go. I let her go! I'm a killer and I let her go. WHY?!

I don't understand what is happening to me, what *has* *happened* to me.

Angelus never loved me, not back then, not before he had a soul. Yes, we were close. Yes, we were intimate. But Angelus couldn't *love*, not in the sense that he does now, not in the traditional meaning of the word. Angelus was void of love. He felt power and control and desire and lust and affection, but he *never* loved. And I was never deluded enough to think any different.

Yet, somehow, I loved him. Or did I? Was it just infatuation with your creator? Darla surely never loved the Master, yet she was somewhat affectionate toward him, because he was her sire. He made her and she always felt connected to him that way. Was that all Angelus and I ever had back then? And if I assume that's all it was… then what changed? Because surely these past three years were not built on anything like the sire/childe bond. Yes, we're bonded because of that, but these past three years went beyond that.

But how?

How is it that I can love so completely now when I'm a killer at the core?

I don't bloody understand and I *have* to.

Was the chip a type of soul? Was the chip the reason I was able to love Angel? No, that's not true, because even after it was gone, I still loved him. I love him. But how? Even now- the sire/childe bond is there, but there's something more… something that made me care about the woman's daughter.

I think of Mary from time to time, wondering where she is, what she's doing… if she's happy. Is part of that human I was still in me? HOW DOES IT WORK?! AND WHY DO I CARE ABOUT THIS?!

~*~*~*~*~

<Ring, Ring>

"Hello?" I ask as I grab the phone off of my desk.

<"Why do I care?">

"SPIKE?!" It's Spike! It's him! I've been so worried. I know how much pain he must be in. I can feel it like I've always felt it. "Spike, where are you?"

<"Why do I care?">

"What do you mean?" I ask. He sounds so… cold. "I don't understand what you're asking."

<"Do I have a soul?">

"What? A soul? Why? What's going on? Are you okay?"

There's a long silence in which I can almost feel him through the phone lines. <"No.">

"Where are you? I can come to-"

<"NO.">

"Spike- if I knew what you were asking, I might be able to help you. Just… tell me where you are."

<Click>

It was bloody stupid to call him. I don't know why the fuck I felt the need to. What the hell is *he* gonna do for me? Tell me to effin' *redeem* myself? Help the helpless? Save bloody lives when I should be *taking* them?

<Ring, Ring>

"'Lo?" I answer from curiosity. I mean- who the bleedin' hell would call *me*?

<"Star, six, nine. Spike-"> Bloody phone companies. <"please don't hang up. I want to help you.">

"Don't need your help."

<"Yes, you do. You wouldn't have called otherwise. Tell me, Spike. Tell me what you're feeling.">

"THAT'S JUST IT YOU BLOODY NONCE!" I growl. "I'm *feeling*."

<"Why does that surprise you? You did before…">

"When I had that bloody chip in my head-"

<"And after, Spike. After that too.">

"Yeah, why? I'm a bloody killer, Angelus. We both are. Only difference to me is that bleedin' poncy soul of yours. So tell me wh-"

<"Spike, listen to me. You and I both know that vampires feel. You *know* what we felt. What Darla felt- she was jealous and felt angry or happy. And Dru-">

"But they didn't love. They didn't *care*, Angelus."

<"Did you… did you- *kill* someone?">

Please say no. Please say no. Please say no.

But he doesn't say anything. For a long time. I know he's still there, though, so I sit, holding the phone to my ear.

"Spike," I start quietly.

<"No."> I barely hear and practically burst out a sigh of relief. <"Was *going* to. Had my fangs in her already… blood flowing and I… she- I stopped.">

"Tell me," I plead with him. I have to know what he's going through in order to help him. I guess I never really thought of what this change would do to him now. I thought he'd just be Spike. I hope to the Powers that Be, that I'm not wrong about that. "What happened?"

<"Said your name. Well- crying out to her little daughter and I- couldn't. She ran.">

"We never really thought about how this would work, Will. We didn't think it through. Restoring a demon to your body, making you go through the changes when I can't be there to-"

<"Teach me?">

"Come *home*, Will. We'll figure it out together. Come back and we'll find a solution."

<"Angelusss…">

"Please?"

<"I-"> Please say yes, Will. If I could see him… then maybe… maybe I could make him understand. Maybe I could show him how okay it can be. <"Okay.">

YES! "Okay," I repeat. "I'll be waiting for you."

<"'Kay.">

"See you soon, Will. I love you."

<Click>

"I love you too, Angelus."

~*~*~*~*~

It was probably the dumbest thing I've ever done. Agreeing to return, that is.

But… there's something about him. I don't know- maybe he *does* have the answers. Maybe if I can just *get* to him… then he'll have some magical solution and all our problems will be solved. Yeah bloody right- wouldn't that be something?

Still- I hope he *does* have the answers. I *need* him to have the answers. I need to know why I bloody care.

I don't remember caring after I first woke up all those years ago. I just know that it was incredible, like now. I can feel the strength coursing through me, whispering delicious nasties in my ears… And there he was, Angelus, my creator, waiting for me as I crawled up from below the soil. That night was amazing…

******

Up. Up. Dirt in my nails, under my nose, my hands, scratching, blood on my knuckles and panic. Up. Always up.

AIR! SKY! FINALLY!

"See? I told you, grandmother!" She giggled as she licked the dirt and blood from my fingers while I struggled to stand, having been worn out from the digging. "Isn't he beautiful?" She cooed.

I recognized her. I knew her from somewhere… the barn! The pickpocket?

"Aye, 'tis a good lad that dinna take all night," a voice said and I immediately recognized it as-

"Sire," I said, without really knowing or understanding anything. I knew he was my sire, my creator, my destroyer, my everything, from that second on into the sunrise.

"Mayhap, Boy," he said.

"Honestly, Angelus, do you really find it so necessary to keep him?"

"You promised grandmother!" She whined. "You promised we'd keep the first one to rise!"

"I did not foresee it being the pauper!"

"I'm no pauper!" I said and was promptly slapped; her nails sliced my cheek and blood spilt.

She looked me up and down and I was startled when she grabbed between my legs, squeezed me and ground my trousers into my skin. I growled for the first time and watched the light in Dru's eyes flicker. "You *are* what I *say*," Darla snapped, "And compared to your lord and master, you are a pauper indeed." She pushed me and I hit the ground hard, landing on a broken tombstone. "Of course, you'll learn that for yourself in due time. Come, Angelus. You'll have to play with your toy later, I've a terrible stomachache."

I sat and watched as the three walked away and was shocked when another hand broke the surface of the earth not two inches from my leg. I backed away and watched as the man crawled out of the earth and snarled at me. Then poof! In a second, he was gone and Angelus was standing behind the dust.

"Obviously not of good quality since he spent so much time crawlin' from below, Lad," he offered me a hand and pulled me up. "Hungry?" He asked and when I looked into his golden eyes…

******

When I looked into his golden eyes that night, it all seemed clear. I knew what we were.

I *knew*, but I didn't *understand*. I didn't understand until the first time his lips touched mine, until after Dru had told me that they had turned twenty young men that Christmas Eve, and *I* was the only one to be kept. *I* was the only one Darla disapproved of. I think she understood then, what I didn't understand until the first time he kissed me.

His lips touched mine and I was overcome. Every emotion I felt was half of my own. See… the thing that they don't explain to slayers and watchers in the books (because no one really understands) is bonding. There are three kinds of bonds in the vampiric world, and *now*, Angelus and I share all three.

The first is the sire/childe bond, which is obviously begun during the first exchange of blood, the turning. Most, however, go unfinished, because to use an 'Americanism' "you need more Indians than chiefs." And the bond is completed after the first feeding, through consummation, meaning you get buggered until you can't walk straight. And did I! I've never seen as much blood and cum as I did that night. I spilt them both from my body until I was dry inside (it seemed). After that, the blood connects you, which is the most miraculous thing about the sire/childe bond. I know it's the most important thing *I* found about it because it is just an awesome thing to know *your* blood sustains your maker. A part of my blood will *always* nourish Angelus, long after I'm gone. Likewise, a part of his blood will always give me strength because it is *his* demonic blood that preserves me.

The second is sire/slave bond, which is formed when a vampire claims a servant, minion, or human. There are various degrees of the bond, in that the strict sire/slave is the type of fancy show thing Dracula is famous for, but very few vampires can do this correctly. The most common form of this is between when a vampire claims a human mate. This is what Angelus did every time he spilt my blood last year. It's a possession thing, only last year, it wasn't as much that, because he knows I'd never let him get away with owning me in the strictest sense of this bond.

The third is that of mates, which is formed through ritual blood circulation and consummation. We mated two years ago, on the roof, which apparently is where some of our most profound moments have happened. This bond is unique because you completely share blood. We drank each other's blood and then drank our own back. That kind of connection is truly powerful. After that, I could practically *feel* what he was feeling. His pain, ecstasy, elation, anger, passion, hatred… I could feel it all, as if it were my own and I *know* he could feel me in that way.

And why have I chosen *now* to be reflective? Why would I choose *tonight* to sort out all these things in my head? I have no idea, like I'm fuckin' lecturing myself on bein' a vampire. But… perhaps I care because I share his emotions… because, come to think of it… I *didn't* care before we mated. Before that night, I didn't care about the humans… they weren't *mine* as they were his. Sure, I tolerated them and drove Watcher crazy and taunted Legs and might have referred to them as *our* humans, but until that night, I don't think I *meant* it.

And then I was human. I can vaguely remember when I woke up human and *couldn't* feel him, because it was the demonic blood in us both that surpassed the normal boundaries of feeling. And that pain, that feeling of incompleteness… it was worse than anything I've ever felt before. I used to think I was empty when he wasn't inside me, but *that* emptiness… it was the most horrible feeling in the entire world, even worse than the rejection from Miami.

But again, why choose *now*? As I stand outside the hotel. Even standing out here, I can feel him inside and I know he can feel me too, dull and far away, but I know he can. I chuckle a bit because I know I have one of the strongest, closest bonds you can have with someone before actually *becoming* that person, and I *know* he's sitting on our bed, staring at the door like the big pouf that he is. And it's not that I can *feel* him sitting there… I just *know* him. You spend a hundred or more years thinking about, sharing blood with, obsessing over someone… you get to know him.

I walk inside and slowly walk upstairs and I can feel him closer now, in the pit of my stomach. It barely seems like any time has passed since the last time I could feel him this strongly. I slowly inhale the soul more and more. Funny, I can't remember smelling it before, when I first got here. I *do* remember how it reeked in the heat of… I can't think about that. I've tried so hard *not* to, but I suppose it's just relevant to what we're going through *now*.

Was I just immune to it when I came here? Or was I just expecting it? Or was I too old? Had the chip and the constant human contact dimmed my senses? Or was I just blinded by having my sire again? Does he smell something similar on me? Or is the stench of human emotion also coming from myself? And why do I care? What does it matter anymore?

I can feel him strongly, just outside the door. He's confused and worried and in pain. I don't know what will happened between Spike and I. I just know that I'll die if he walks out again. I'll die if I have to exist another hundred years without him.

He opens the door and just stands in the doorway, looking at me.

"Hi," I greet my Will softly. I forgot just how beautiful he is. Well, that's not completely true. I *know* how beautiful he is. We have numerous paintings hanging on the wall to remind us of that fact. And deep inside, I think he's proud of how many there are of him. I think he likes knowing he's an object of worship and adoration. He likes being gawked at. He enjoys how it makes me squirm when we go to a bar and people come on to him. He gets this delicious smirk when someone admires his looks and tries to touch him. One time, a girl snuck her hand under his shirt and I saw her playing with his navel ring. I saw red, quite literally. I surpassed jealous green in a second and wanted to rip her lungs out. He saw me heading for them and grabbed the nearest guy and kissed him to gross her out. Of course, he *paid* for that kiss later…

"Hey," he says with that gorgeous mouth. If only she had known how utterly delicious his mouth is- how dirty it can be. If she only knew the treacherous, nasty things my boy can do with that mouth. Shit- now is *not* the time to get hard, Angel. But if she only knew how wild he is when you get him naked, how gorgeous his body is when he's moving above you, or bucking under you… and I'll die if anyone else ever finds out.

Yeah, I *know* when *I'm* being admired. So naturally, I do the only thing I can. I lift my shirt a bit and scratch my belly, which makes him shift uncomfortably and just *knowing* how hard he must be, makes *me* hard.

"I'm glad you came," he says softly. "I was afraid you wouldn't."

"You *knew* I would."

"I did- but- I thought maybe you'd change your mind. Wasn't sure… you look-"

"Gorgeous? Delicious? Lickable?"

He shifts again and I can barely contain my desire for him right now in this very moment. I don't know why. Maybe because-

Of course… because now I've had my first feed, if you could call it that. Fresh blood in my veins and I need to complete the bonds that bind us together, that make us two parts of the same. I need to remember why I was the only one to survive that night in December so long ago. I need to remember why I came back to my sire and why I keep coming back. I need to remember that I need him as much as he needs me.

I smirk and drop my duster before stalking toward the bed and straddling his thighs.

"Spike!" He squeaks. "Shouldn't we t-"

I shut him up by closing my mouth over his and swallowing the rest of his words.

SHIT. He's fucking *devouring* my mouth and grinding against me. I can't help but slip my arms around his waist and squeeze his ass as he wraps *his* arms around me. Fuck. We should talk this out. We should figure out what the hell we're gonna do. He can't drink animal's blood and I can't let him drink from humans and we *need* to talk about this. But shit, I whimper as he nips at my bottom lip and I can't stop myself from wanting this. One. Last. Time.

I forgot how good this all feels, how good Angel's mouth feels against mine, how good his tongue tastes against mine… I pull his shirt up over his head and run my hands down his back as I kiss him deeply. His skin, sliding against my fingertips, tongue in my mouth, hands grabbing my arse… it's just too much.

"Fuck, Spike," he groans when I release his mouth just a bit.

"You were saying?" I growl as my hands slip between us and I start working on his belt and zipper.

"Nothing," he growls as he grabs my head and yanks my mouth to his.

Didn't think so, Ponce. I growl again before sinking my fangs into his tongue. His hands seize a bit at the sensation and I just grin and bite harder. Yes, we're playing *that* way.

So… we're gonna play that way, are we, Boy?

That's fine. I can play too. Fuck, I can play.

He's got my pants undone and I don't really feel gentle. If he has one pair of jeans less than before, it's one less pair that can be between me and my prize again. So, I slide my hands to his front and give his jeans one. Good. Yank.

I smell his blood instantly and look down at where the zipper tore and the metal scraped him. I run my knuckle down the scratch and tickle the coarse hairs there. I look into his eyes and they are just completely gone with lust. I *love* when he looks at me that way.

"Get naked. Now," I command.

"You too, *Peaches*," he grunts as he grabs his jeans and tears the rest to shreds to get them off.

"Get up and I will," I order.

Fuckin' *ponce*.

"Listen, *Soul* *boy*," I snarl, "rip 'em off and be a man about it." Then, I decide to show him what I mean and grab them and start yanking at them.

He's pissed about that. He digs his claws into my hips and I can't stop the small yelp that escapes my lips. The blood trickles down my hips and I aid him in pushing them down over his arse. Oh yes, there's sire-cock, and looking large as life.

Shit, I'm so hard. I can't stand it.

Oh yeah, I missed that 'fuck me now' look of his.

I drag my fingers up his back and around to his mouth and practically come when he licks his own blood off my fingertips. "Spike," I moan. I really can't help it, the boy can make eating *carrots* look sensual, let alone *blood*.

He leans toward me and drags his fangs, followed by tongue, up my shoulder to my neck and FUCK. I buck up into his hips and feel his cock rub against mine. This is just *incredible*! Fuck- even if we can't be *together* together, we can't go back to being nothing. We can't go back to not having *this*. I never want a day to come when I can't fuck him.

I slide back a bit on the bed and drag him with me. I pull my knees up so he can lean back against them if he wants and apparently, he does, because he… well… he *does*. And then… fuckme. I watch him pinch one of his nipples so hard, that he pierces the skin with his nail and draws blood, to which he sighs sensually. I watch his mouth, almost in slow motion, as he forms the 'oh' with his lips. He's incredible. A bit bigger and that 'oh' could make way for my cock…

But he obviously wants the attention, so I pinch the other nipple fiercely and am rewarded by a vicious snarl. Before I know it, he's yanked my wrist to his mouth and he's got his fangs deep into me and his hand around the base of my cock because he knows me too well.

Yeah, I got your number, Angelus. Sire or not, I *know* what makes *you* come.

And he obviously knows what makes *me* come because he grabs my cock and rakes his nails up the staff and makes me bleed more and did he *purposely* make them sharper?! And fuck it, I can't help myself when I explode onto his hands and scream his name through bloody teeth, with bloody tongue and I dive in for his neck.

FUCKME!!!!!!! I should *not* be *this* turned on by seeing his mouth so fuckin' red from my blood.

The next thing I know, he's positioning himself over my cock and "Spike," I warn, "lube, need lube." Else he'll tear himself to shreds.

"Don'tcare," he half-growls, half-mumbles, before slamming himself down on my cock.

JESUSFUCKINCHRIST!!!!

His entire body goes rigid and stiff and I *swear* he's crying in ecstasy even as blood pours from his hole and dampens the hairs at the base of my erection, even as he grasps me tighter and screams from the pain of it all.

Shit. I move my hand to his cock, to try to make it halfway pleasant, or at least distract him, and he pushes my hand away. "Lemmefeelit," he cries and I do.

Within a few minutes, I feel him shift and cry out again in pain. And again, he shifts and screams and then gyrates his hips and shouts again. "Will-" I start.

"NOOO!" He growls and before I know it, he's descended upon my mouth again and is tearing at my mouth with his fangs and *I* shift inside him and swallow his howls as I do.

Then, almost in a fury of rage, or something, he starts to move, up and down, slamming up and down on me, impaling himself, making himself bleed more, changing the angle, depth, speed, kissing me and licking and growling and I just let him take what he needs.

I listen to the sounds we make, he makes, our bodies make as we… what? Make love? Fuck? Rut? Mate? I'm not quite sure. I listen to the grunts and growls, moans and whimpers he makes and I'm just swept away by the beauty of it all.

And I descend upon his neck when my body tells me it's time and I howl "MINE!" before devouring his skin and blood and neck and all his parts… and the sound he makes as he comes… or shall I say the 'lack' of sound is just… amazing. Like he's completely mute as he careens off the edge of sanity and seizes around me one final time. And-

~*~*~*~*~

Fuckin' hell, when did we get under the covers? And when did I somehow get snuggly in his arms? And why does it have to feel *so* good?

And speaking of *feeling*… can we say FUCK?!

"I don't think I'll be able to *move* for… a month at least."

"You'll care next time, won't you?" He answers me back like the ponce that he is.

He quiets and stills for a while and I'd like to know what he was thinking in those few seconds of silent bliss he found before, while being so engrossed in the blood and violence of it all…

"I *know*," he whispers after a good solid ten minutes of silence.

"Know what, Spike?"

"Why I care… why I feel the way I do… why I feel at all…"

"Why?" I ask. Did those blissful few seconds give him the peace he needed? Did they give him an answer he was looking for?

"This," he whispers as he traces a heart shape on my chest.

"And what's that?"

"You… your soul… everything…"

I can't explain it. I just *know* it, now. Is that possible? In those few seconds when the world fell away, I *understood*. I care because Angel does. I came here that first Christmas looking for… I don't know… companionship? I guess I just wanted to… to have a different last memory of my sire. I wanted to make peace or tell him I forgive him or have *him* forgive *me*… I just needed to *finish* it.

I guess, if I'm honest with myself, I came in hopes that *he* would finish it. He's the only one I trust with my life- to protect it, or take it. I suppose, I came in hopes that he'd put me out my misery, once and for all. My creator. My destroyer.

But he didn't. He loved me. And I loved him back. Differently than before. More deeply than before. And it changed me, because I wasn't repulsed by my sire anymore. I was ready to accept him.

And I think I can now, as well. I just can't explain it very well.

I don't need to know what he's thinking. I can *feel* his peace. He settled something inside him tonight.

"Ya know, Spike… just because you care about people, doesn't mean it's a bad thing. It doesn't make you weak. It's not going to take you back to not being able to defend yourself… you're not gonna get the chip back in your head. Caring doesn't have to be a bad thing. Caring about Mary, or Dawn or Cordelia… it doesn't make you *less* of a vampire. It makes you better, because you can see that some people are *worth* saving."

He seems content to listen and not protest too much, so I continue. And as I do, I rub his back soothingly. "I mean- the 'big bad' never turned Sid or Johnny Rotten because you saw the value in having them alive. You didn't kill Dru's servants because you recognized that not *everyone* should die. And you didn't let me suck the world into Hell because it has value, and you saw it… I guess you're the reluctantly good bad guy. And that's okay."

"Save the psycho bullshit, Angelus."

"All I'm saying is… you can still have the violence… you can have it with me and you can have it when we go take care of demons."

"What about the blood?" He asks. "I can't drink-"

"I'll call someone at the blood bank tomorrow and we'll make arrangements. Okay?" Why I didn't think of that earlier, I have no idea.

Why didn't he just think of that earlier?!

"Can you live with that?" He asks. "Not killing humans… the blood and-"

"Yeah, we can try it," I sigh. "Although why you didn't come up with this in the boring hours you had before I woke up, *I'll* never know!" He smacks my ass and I scream, "OOOOWWW! You bloody pouf! That fuckin' hurts!"

"Oh- sorry!"

He snuggles into my arms and I can't help but smile. Things might *actually* work out-

"Spike?"

"Hmm?"

"What you said… about my soul… before you left- was it true?" Do I repulse him? I never thought that he might not be able to accept my soul? That he might reject it…

"Not anymore," he murmurs against my chest.

"Why?"

He sighs angrily before answering, "'Cause I jus' hadda re'quaint maself to tha stencha yer fat arse," he mumbles. "Now shud up an' lemme sleep."

Spoken in true Spike.

~*~*~*~*~

<"So?"> She asks.

"Sooo… I think we've worked things out. Don't worry about it."

<"Well, we only worry in the sense of being eaten next time we come to work.">

"Cordy… we've worked it out. He seems fine with the blood from the bank- as long as we continue paying the nurse, we'll have fresh, clean blood for him until he's strong enough to accept animal blood."

<"Okay… that's just gross, Angel. Don't need to know…">

"How was Christmas for you guys?"

<"Gunn and I? We had a great time! Ready to get back to work tomorrow and thankful that the PTB didn't feel the need to visionate us the past couple weeks.">

"So, we'll see you tomorrow then?" I ask her as he walks into the room carrying a bottle of scotch and tray of mints.

<"Tomorrow it is. Maybe we'll have a big juicy demon to kill!">

"You're *way* too excited about that, Cordelia. *Way* too excited."

<"Yeah, well… what *else* are we gonna do tomorrow?">

"Love you," I tell her as Spike pushes his jeans down and stands there naked before me. "Gotta go."

<"B-" CLICK> I hang up on her.

~*~*~*~*~

<"Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. HAPPY NEW YEAR!!">

//Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and days of auld lang syne?//