It was now offically tomorrow night. And Angel was waiting for the explination to why Spike was singing at a club the Powers That Be had a hand in. Or, whatever was used as a hand by the Powers.

Angel had been on his toes all day. He hadn't been able to concentrate, and almost got his head clawed off by some demon he met when he was pacing the sewers, waiting for night to break.

And, night had offically fallen. Cordelia and Wesley had officially left. And Angel was offically on his way to the club where Spike was going to explain everything.

Or so Angel hoped.

The Spike explaining part. He already knew the others.

And there was the bartender, doing bartender stuff at the bar.

Angel walked up to him, intent on getting a drink before Spike sang, and maybe chat with the guy a bit before that.

But first does come the drinking.

Without a word, John slid Angel's drink to him.

"What, do you keep this ready for me?" Angel asked, as he took a sip.

"Actually, the Powers have a mysical tracer on you so when we know when you're coming." At Angel's disbelief and duh look face, he said, "I saw you come in. I made it then."

"Oh."

"So, you're finally going to talk tonight. Good luck. He's a bit of an odd one about this, but I'm sure he'll be okay with you."

"How can you be sure?" Angel asked, setting his drink down.

"Let's just say that I know what Cordelia's been getting visions on, and I know what's going on in that head of his. My connection and all that."

"All this cryptic stuff. It's going to be cleared up soon, correct?" Angel asked.

"Like you can say anything, Cryptic Guy." John said. "Oh, yes, I know about that. I know all about you. me and Whistler are quite close friends."

Angel paled more than normal. "Uh, you wouldn't know about the time I..."

John nodded. "Oh, yes."

"And, what about the one when I..."

"That too." He smirked at Angel a bit. "No worries, I won't tell Spike more than I already have."

Angel looked a little panicked at that.

"Joking, joking. Jeez, a guy gets all uptight when you mention problems with his-"

"Shh, he's on." Angel hissed at John, turning his attention to the stage, where Spike had, in fact, came on to.

The music cued up, and Spike began to sing, looking almost directly at Angel.

"When dreaming guided into another world
Time and time again.
As sore eyes, I fight to stay asleep
'Cause I don't want to leave the comfort of this place,
'Cause there's a hunger longing to escape
From the life I live when I'm awake."

Dreams. Dreams were powerful. Angel knew that. Spike knew that. Was Spike implying that he dreams of Angel, and that he wants to live with him, which would be different than his normal life? Angel didn't know.

Angel hoped so.

Spike looks good, he decided. Wasn't looking to bad for the not feeding on the living thing, wasn't that skinny, and he was wearing all black. Looking perfectly Spikey.

Angel likes it.

"So, let's go there.
Let's make our escape.
Come on, let's go there.
Let's ask, 'Can we stay?'"

Spike was definantly looking at Angel, and the message was clear. Spike wanted Angel. Wanted to stay with Angel. Angel liked that idea. No matter what anyone else would say.

"Can you take me higher,
To a place where the blind men see?
Can you take me higher,
To a place with golden streets?"

Angel could take Spike as high as he wanted. Higher, even, if it pleased him. Angel, with the current high of Spike he was on, would do anything to please Spike. If only Spike would come with him.

"Although I would like a world of change,
It helps me to appreciate those nights and those dreams.
But, my friend, I'd sacrafice all those nights
If I could make the earth and my dreams the same.
The only difference is to let love replace all our hate."

Now, if Angel couldn't get the meaning in that though his gelled head, yes, he would be very dense.

Spike wanted to make his life now the same as his dreams. And assuming he was dreaming of Angel, then that would mean that he wants to spend his lifeon earth with Angel.

But that was all assumptions.

But Angel thought he was assuming right.

Or at least he hoped.

"So let's go there,
Let's make our escape.
Come on, let's go there,
Let's ask, 'Can we stay?'"

Spike was gently weaving his way through the crowd, to the beat, as Angel watched him, his eyes never leaving Spike's lithe form. Although he was dreaming about what he'd seen that body do in the past, and wonder if could still do all those things.

"Can you take me higher,
To a place where the blind men see?
Can you take me higher,
To a place with golden streets?"

Spike looked at Angel across the way, and winked at him, no doubt remembering the time when he and Angelus went out, and spilled blood over a golden fountain, and then played in the blood-water for hours. At least, it was a good memory for Spike.

"All right and I feel like I'm alive for the very first time
Sailed high, I'm strong enough to take these dreams and make them mine.
Sailed high, I'm strong enough to take these dreams and make them mine."

Mine. His. Together. Forever. Spike's dreams to be made reality, Angel could hear the promise in the words of the song.

He felt no doubts on this, no incercurities, nothing that said that he was feeling wrong about what Spike was expressing.

And he was very far from wrong.

"Can you take me higher,
To a place where the blind men see?
Can you take me higher,
To a place with golden streets?"

The song was winding down, and Angel watched as Spike started to make his way over to him. Silently, Angel watched, as an array of emotions passed on Spike's face, no doubt because of what he was going to tell Angel.

"Can you take me higher,
To a place where blind men see?
Can you take me higher,
To a place with golden streets?"

The song ended, and Spike dropped the hand with the mic to his side. He looked up into Angel's eyes, and saw everything he used to see in Angelus's, plus the soul, and Angel saw everything in Spike's. They were in tune once more.

"Let's go talk." Spike said, breaking eye contact to go put the mic back in the stand.

Cont. in 7a- One Year of Love