Relevance of Spike


Part 10


This time around Angel was more covert about entering the sorcerer’s abode, mapping the sewer systems around the area until he found an entrance that emerged in the basement underneath Vail’s house. He’d suspected it must exist. As he knew only too well, underground egress was vital to demons needing to travel unseen, or to receive visitors anonymously. This particular tunnel appeared to be well used.


He moved stealthily, scenting the air as he crept along. To his vampiric sight the basement had an eerie, twilight quality reminiscent of tallow candles and rising smoke. He melted seamlessly into the darkened corners. The atmosphere was so contaminated by old magic and older evil that it almost obliterated individual scents, making them indistinguishable, one from another. The stench of evil brought his demon to bright-eyed alertness.


He heard a noise.


Hidden by shadows, he crouched down; muscles tensed and prepared to leap into action.


They were coming…


More than two? He squinted through the gloom and could just make out a familiar figure. Izzy’s skin glowed in the darkness, as red as the coals of hell.


There were other figures around him. Angel’s eyes turned gold, his enhanced sight piercing through the cloak of surrounding darkness. There was Cyvus Vail and there was… Spike…? Hell’s teeth! What the hell had he managed to get himself inveigled in now? What did he think he was doing with these two? In fact, why would Cyvus and Iggy, two powerful and ancient demons, be holding clandestine meetings?


Angel frowned as he mulled it over. This went far deeper than he originally guessed. Izzy was one of a group who represented the interests of the Senior Partners in this dimension, and was his own personal contact to the group. His mind was spinning with possibilities… was Cyvus Vail also part of this exclusive group? It made sense that a sorcerer of his power would be associated with the Senior Partners.


Angel cursed under his breath. This sent all the balls tumbling through the air.


Sure, Spike had said he’d had a plan, but Angel had never expected this. Although thinking back to the contents of his briefcase, he wondered why he was so surprised.  He tried to recall the prongs of the attack: subversion, infiltration, diversion and division… or something. He began to wish that he’d paid more attention to those ideas. It was so difficult to remember that Spike had been his own master for over a hundred years.


He thought he detected a darkness pass over Spike’s features and a wariness in his eyes. Angel had no doubt that he’d been sensed. And now he understood what had been disturbing him about this place. It wasn’t the scents. It was the overwhelming presence of his childe.


He was speaking and Angel’s ears pricked up, knowing that whatever was said would be partly for his benefit.


“Are you sure we can’t be detected here?”


“Yes, yes,” Cyvus answered impatiently. “This room cannot be monitored by magical or electronic means. So please, answer the question.”


“Izzy was obvious. You have become kind of infamous, Mate… red skin, horn, tail. It seemed pretty clear you’ve been dealing for the Senior Partners for a very long time.”


Izzy waved away the suggestion.


“Not that long really,” he replied modestly. “I started working for the Senior Partners back in the Middle Ages. Unfortunately, that was about the time when real life depiction in art began taking off….”


“Well, you’re kinda distinctive, not to mention high profile. Can you really play the fiddle?”


Izzy’s eyes lit up.


“Why? Are you wanting a little competition? I win, I get your soul. You win and you get your heart’s desire?”


“Already got my heart’s desire.”


Angel could have sworn that Spike looked directly at him, but also knew blue eyes never strayed from Izzy’s face.


“Ah well. A devil’s gotta try,” Izzy replied with good grace.


“How did you guess about me?” Cyvus asked.


Spike appeared shocked that the question needed asking.


“Come on! The amount of power you wield?”


Cyvus gave a satisfied smile.


“It’s true that I am the most powerful sorcerer in this dimension.” He didn’t count modesty amongst his faults.


Izzy brought the conversation back to the point.


“So what do you want with us?”


“You know my opinion. You’re backing the wrong vamp, Mate.”


“I gotta disagree with you there, little guy. My money’s on Angel.”


Cyvus waved him to silence. It was clear who wielded the power here. Izzy shrugged and sulkily retreated. Cyvus appeared to consider Spike’s words as he trundled along with his trolley that held all the necessaries to keep him alive indefinitely.


“You have a soul, too.” His answer and his face were non-committal.


“That’s true. But the difference is that I’m not suddenly going to change into something different. My soul is permanent. With me, you know what you’ve got.”


Cyvus secretly agreed but continued to play devil’s advocate.


“Have you ever thought that maybe Angelus would suit our plans better? After all, he is evil…”


“Angelus is an insane megalomaniac. If you know anything about him at all, you’ll know that he doesn’t play nice with other demons. You think you’re clever? Angelus would run rings around the lot of you. Make no mistake, he would want the power you have and he’s clever enough to take it. He’d kill you all. I think the Senior Partners would be impressed with him. Too impressed. If you want to keep power then you don’t want Angelus.”


A nod of agreement as Spike quoted his suspicions right back at him.


“Yes. He killed the Beast. They were impressed.” He made a small moue of discontent.




“What about Angel? You seem to have been getting along with him particularly well recently.” A sly look accompanied this statement.


“What can I say?” Spike replied with a shrug, “He’s my Sire. I care for him, but I’ve betrayed him before and I’ll do it again if it becomes necessary. He’s weak. You know it, I know it. He couldn’t cut it. Even if he wanted the power he’s been out of the game for too long. Me, on the other hand…”


Spike had Cyvus hanging on to every word.


“Go on. You…?”


Spike gave a diffident shrug.


“I’ve always been able to do what’s necessary, ensouled or soulless. I’ve cut deals with slayers and gods. Good or evil. It’s results that matter.”


Another nod of agreement.


“People get far too hung up on good and evil. You’re correct.” He wheezed. “All that counts is purpose and results, but can we bind you to our purpose?”


“I dunno…. What have you got to offer?”


A creaky laugh greeted this. Now Spike was talking a language he understood to the core of his demon soul.


“Everything you’ve ever dreamt off? How does that grab you, youngster?”


“I have pretty big dreams.”


Cyvus would have been disappointed if the cocky young vampire had responded in any other way.


“I’ll bring you to the attention of the other members as a potential candidate if that is your wish.”


“Yeah, that’s what I want.”


Angel listened and wondered what the hell Spike was up to. He searched the sharp face, trying to read what was working behind it, but it remained infuriatingly indecipherable. It was a sign of how far he and Spike had come that it never entered his head to doubt Spike. There was one thing he had learnt over the past couple of weeks, he could trust Spike with his life. When the chips were down, his Childe had fought, body and soul, for him


The others left the cellar and Angel departed the same way he’d come, his mind deeply troubled. He didn’t doubt Spike’s innate cunning or intelligence but still found it difficult to believe that he had managed to figure out two members of the Circle of the Black Thorn.


As he drove back it all started to fall into place.


Spike couldn’t talk openly for the same reason that he himself couldn’t, but he obviously knew that Angel had been approached. In fact, it seemed his ignorant Childe suddenly seemed to know a helluva a lot… and on top of that he refused to talk about Mede. Had Mede given him the heads up? Angel kicked himself for even asking the question, the answer was obvious.


So, Spike had known he was there and passed on as much of his plans as possible. It looked as though he was trying to cause conflict in the ranks of the Circle by making them side with one or other of them. He guessed that he could play that game too.


He returned, wanting to shelter in his office and think through everything that had happened, but as he walked into the reception, Harmony hailed him.


“Boss? The Inspector is here to see you.”




His face darkened, he couldn’t believe that he’d have the nerve to show up here!


She nodded and indicated with a look.


Angel stalked over to him, his rage barely contained.


“What the hell are you doing here?” he growled.


The man was unfazed by the naked aggression.


“It’s policy that the CEO gets to see a draft of my report, in case they want to challenge any inconsistencies before I file it with the Senior Partners.”


He held out a printed version of the report, but Angel’s eye was caught by the fine-boned wrist and the twisted skein of vampire-hide that was bound around it.


Mede followed his gaze.


“Ah. A keepsake. A reminder if you like.”


“I damned well don’t like.”


“Mind your manners, Angel.”


Just at that second Spike also returned.




He glared at Mede in outage, who, in turn, merely looked amused


“If you’re going to ask me what I’m doing here, I’m finishing the job I was contracted to do. I may dally with my small amusements, but I am a professional, It’s why they hire me.”


“You could have frigging scarred me for life!”


“I take it I didn’t?”


And this time Angel was watching closely and swore that he saw the man’s shoulders sag with relief.


Spike’s eyes were drawn to the pale band on his wrist, tied there like some bizarre friendship bracelet.


“He says it’s a reminder,” Angel growled.


“When someone finally stakes you I’ll be the first to know,” Mede explained blandly.


Now Spike looked curious.


“It’ll turn to dust?”


“Of course.”


“Don’t bank on it being permanent. Hasn’t been so far.”  It seemed it wasn’t his destiny to rest in peace.


Ghan looked at him sadly.


“No, Probably not,” he replied, answering Spike’s wistful thought rather than his spoken words.


“I wish you’d stop doing that! Could at least pretend that a bloke’s thoughts are his own.”


“But you know how much I despise…”


“Pretence,” Spike finished off.


“You read my mind.”


Mede almost smiled and Spike almost grinned back, but both managed to kill their burgeoning goodwill.


There were weird dynamics in this conversation that would have confused Angel, but he had finally sussed that nothing was as it appeared. It was even possible that the man was actually allied to Spike and the torture routine just an elaborate charade, in which case he’d better play his part.


“You’ve done your job.”  Angel took the report from him. “Now go. You’re not welcome here, Mede.”


It came to him easily enough.


“There’s not many places I am,” he replied, his mouth twisting sardonically, “Odd that.”


“Strangely enough, I understand it perfectly. I suggest you leave your cell number, if I have any queries on the report I’ll contact you.”


“I’ll be available until midday a week today and then the report will be sent on.”


He turned to Spike and reached out to gently caress his cheek. Spike caught his wrist before he could complete the gesture.


“We’ll meet again, Vampire.”


Still feeling pretty pissed about the holy water, Spike growled, “Yeah? Not if I see you first we bloody won’t.”


He released the wrist with an aggressive motion.


Ghan gave him a nod of farewell and left, fingering his bracelet. It occurred to Spike that there went one of the loneliest men in the world.


Angel sighed.


“Why do I feel like we’re salmon, fighting our way upstream just to get screwed and die?”


It seemed an unfortunate turn of phrase given the constantly charged atmosphere that surrounded them. The tension in the room rose as Spike stilled, the words replaying through his mind. He cocked his head.


“Unlife is so uncertain. I mean, sod it, we could die tonight. So you’re thinking there’s a chance we might get screwed first?”


His voice was dark and seductive.


And suddenly the air was heavy with arousal. It was overpowering and cloying, and obliterated all other thoughts from their minds.


Their eyes met and some enchantment buzzed through the air as their gazes locked.




He told Harmony they were leaving for the evening. Neither of them heard her reply.


They walked coolly into the elevator, exchanging small glances as they went. The nonchalant attitude lasted until the doors slid shut.


Reception disappeared to the merest crack and trust, loyalty, allegiance and all the others words they were no longer free to speak, found expression in Spike’s first tentative kiss, whispered across his Sire’s skin and receiving sweet affirmation, as lips parted in acceptance, pressing to his, tasting, devouring…


Anticipation thrummed through their bodies like heartbeats. After one hundred years of waiting and wanting…they were almost nervous.


Angel moved closer, drawn irresistibly towards his Childe, swaying against him. The light brush of hips was all it needed, like the touch of live wires, electricity sparked between them, detonating a charge of energy that ripped through them, blasting away doubt and confusion.


The power of it had Spike catching a breath, grasping the lapels of Angel’s jacket to support his sudden weakness, looking up with wide eyes, as though he were truly seeing his Sire for the first time.  He gazed upon the dark, intense eyes and the pink, kiss-swollen lips…bloody gorgeous. And this man belonged to him.


Angel stared back, wondering that the abstract of angles and planes could combine to such perfection in the face of his childe, and the look on that face sent a pulse of pure desire screeching through his body.  Ironic that as his insides softened to marshmallow, the rest of his body hardened to iron. 


Deliberately repeating his action, Angel lightly swayed against him, hard bodies brushing together and he felt the shock of current spark between them. Wordlessly he absorbed Spike’s smallest reaction; the darting tongue and slickly moist lips, flickering eyelids and an involuntary gasp of desire that caught at Angel’s groin and uncurled through his guts. He had the ability to do this to his Childe with only a touch? He thrilled to the power, and every human and every demon thought screamed, “Mine!”


Lust danced naked in Spike’s eyes, a hundred years had been a long time to wait, but this moment was worth everything. He lunged forward triumphantly claiming what was his. 


Angel stumbled backwards, taken unawares by the passion of the assault, recovering and responding with an overwhelming need to take and own. They crashed together, two powerful demons, matched in strength and desire.


They demanded and fought, the air thickened around them like smoke, enfolding them in reeking clouds of potent male arousal. Misplaced kisses landed haphazardly as mouths clashed for ascendancy. The violence of their desire threw hard bodies and heads against the elevator side, sending it swaying and clattering in its shaft, as insistent mouths snatched at their prize. 


Eyes became pools of inky darkness, as greedy, grasping hands sought expanses of flesh and flexing muscles. They were lost to the touch, the sound, the scent of each other, fists twining in hair, mouth seeking mouth, tongues tasting and duelling as passion rode though them.


Angel wrenched at Spike’s duster, it pooled forgotten on the floor. Buttons popped and clothing tore in his frantic haste to lay heated touches and parched lips upon cool silken, skin. 


Elevator doors slid open and they tumbled gracelessly into the apartment. Spike’s lips were bloodied, Angel’s head received another crack, but all that mattered was quenching this craving.


The dark vampire was a predator once more and Spike shivered to the hunger in his eyes.


Thrown backwards as Angel pounced, Spike had never seen such need blazing through his Sire. The years Angel had spent controlling his desires, now scorched through him, a supernova fuelled by one hundred and twenty years of unrequited lust. It couldn’t be contained, exploding from him, searing Spike with its intensity and setting his eternal night ablaze with light.


His Sire moved over him like a force of nature, a whirlwind that stripped and laid bare all it touched, leaving Spike exposed and quivering in its aftermath.


Boots were kicked off, rough denim slid down as hands moved carelessly over pale thighs, dragging back up his body, until material impeded progress. Remnants of a shirt were ripped away, nails raked red streaks across naked skin and blood welled to the surface, fuelling the conflagration that burnt within. The scent hit them like an aphrodisiac. Blood rose to blood, desire leapt to touch and Angel nuzzled in, half kissing and half biting. Memories of Yuletide were rolling across his tongue.  White, snowy skin that tasted like pine cones and smoke, blood as rich as marzipan, burning like brandy, sending him reeling with intoxication.


And Spike was a revelation, his body accepting all the punishment that Angel gave, responding, needing… Soft moans of desire escaped his lips as Angel removed the camouflage of clothes, stripping him to his soul.


Flawless skin was caressed by a gaze as sensual as silk, warming him, covering him, binding him…..


“Please, Angel….” he begged his voice breaking.


 “Please what?” The answering voice mocked his loss of language.


“Touch me…”


Angel leant back, fascinated by the haunting need contained in eyes of smoke and fire.


“Where? Here?” Lips brushed across his fluttering eyelids.


“Or here?” He mouthed gently in to his neck. 


Spike’s body quivered like steel striking stone.


“Yeah…” he whispered.


Angel teased human teeth against a faint scar, still sensitive from the bite that had been placed there so many years before.


Spike gasped, writhing to his touch, desire burning through his veins.


Licking his lips, Angel leant back, feeding his hunger, feasting his eyes on Spike’s body, the darkening eyes, the white teeth that bit down on bloodied, swollen lips. His gaze lingered on the flat chest, muscles that rippled his torso as he moved. His very masculinity was disturbing and arousing. 


Here was his fantasy made flesh, a sculpture of white marble coloured with life, solid and tactile, something to be touched and stroked. Worshipful fingers reached out to cool skin, traced hardened ridges of muscles, adding details to an image he would hold close to his heart for the rest of eternity. He grasped the memory, held it safe in his hand and hung it amongst a gallery of precious moments.


The light touches, left fiery trails across Spike’s sensitised skin. His body yearned for more, needed more, uncaring as to who controlled, who dominated, as long as those hands continued their journey. He willed them lower, and they obliged, slowly skimming over his stomach, his muscles tensed and twitched in anticipation.


The roving hand stilled.


A piteous whimper escaped Spike’s lips and he gazed pleadingly at Angel, leant towards him, begging him, promising him the world if he would only continue…


Angel’s smile was worthy of Angelus.


Jeez, this was so much better than fantasy.  Spike was arching towards his touch, desperate for more. The small sounds and soft moans, breathed through softer lips, shot electricity through Angel’s body, his toes curled, his chest tightened and he was flying high on the astonishing thought that this was Spike…. His lover, his partner… hell, his everything!


His self-satisfied musings abruptly stalled as he was suddenly flung around and pushed against the wall, his mouth devoured by his impatient Childe.


Angel recovered from the shock of this unexpected turnaround. So this was what it felt like having a lover who was his equal? He felt a flush of arousal at the intensity of his Childe's need. 


Spike took everything that was offered and demanded more. Kissing and licking at Angel’s mouth, whilst pulling frantically at his leather jacket. It slipped from his shoulders, turning inside out as it slid down his arms, becoming stuck and leaving the larger vampire pinioned, unable to move his arms.


Seeing his predicament, a slow grin spread over Spike’s face, he was happy to take his time.


The next kiss was carefully placed, deep and lingering, as he deliberately ground his hardened body against Angel’s.  Flesh responded to flesh in a language as old as life. Spike caught his breath and broke the kiss as a low moan escaped Angel’s lips. He watched his Sire’s reaction with hot avid eyes.


“Oh Christ. So bloody sexy,” he whispered in a voice rough with emotion.


Angel had rarely been so helpless. A hint of apprehension and a thin sliver of fear had him struggling frantically against the binding leather.


Watching his squirming, a surge of power pulsed through Spike… he had his Sire at his mercy, which was unfortunate because he had none for this victim.


Cool fingers trailed menacingly along the length of Angel’s neck, fisted in his silky, dark hair, pulling back to expose his neck, an insistent tongue taunting the place where a pulse had once beaten so strongly with life. Long teasing licks slid up the column of his neck, following the artery from base to jaw, nipping playfully along the way. Angel’s struggles were futile and he gradually gave in and accepted his fate, accepted that at his moment his Childe was now his Master. His head fell back, surrendering completely to his tormentor. Spike growled in triumph, pressing their bodies together, tightening his grip and sucking hard, almost breaking tender skin against human teeth.


As salt brought forth flavour, so pain intensified the pleasure whipping though Angel’s body. He let out a gasp as blunt teeth suddenly bit down, and clutched convulsively at Spike’s shoulders. 


A couple of gulps of the precious blood was all Spike needed, enough to send the power of it flying through him like quicksilver. The demon magic invigorated him and heightened his senses, heightened his desire....


He ran his tongue over his teeth, slowly licking them clean, before turning his attention back to Angel and wondering why the hell he wasn’t naked…. Fingers moved from dishevelled hair and slowly and carefully began unbuttoning the normally pristine shirt.


“Don’t want it to get crumpled, do we Pet?” he teased, pushing it back, fingers running in awe across the breadth of the powerful, bulging shoulders. Everything about his Sire was so bloody erotic.


“You are so fucking perfect….” Spike’s voice was dirt and gravel. It sent shivers running through the dark vampire.


“Just tear the damned thing off!” Angel hissed, his torso writhing as he twisted to get free of his jacket. Then one of Spike’s hands trailed over his exposed chest, brushing against sensitive nipples. Angel froze.


“Do it again!” he demanded huskily.


Spike caught his gaze and held it as he moved his mouth closer. Angel had to close his eyes. He felt a thousand volt surge as a tongue teasingly whipped over the hardened nub. His body was rubber, melting to the heat of it.


One of Spike’s hands shifted to Angel’s pants, slowly releasing the zip. The touch was his undoing. Angel’s legs began folding beneath him and he took a shuddering breath.


Spike sensed his weakness and forced him backwards until the edge of the bed struck the crook of his knees. His legs finally collapsed from under him and he sank gratefully onto the bed, his childe tumbling on top, sitting astride across his thighs, fingers tugging at his pants and exposing an erection that wept with need.


Some small sense of responsibility surfaced in Angel’s brain.


“Jesus, Spike! I…I haven’t touched, or been touched in so long. Last time, you know, with the biting and all, I could feel Angelus growing strong, and again now… I don’t know if I dare to do this. I’m afraid I’m going to lose myself in you.”


His voice was pure agony and indecision.


Spike was looking down in horror at the raw, angry hardness that confronted him.


“This ain’t about happiness or love, Pet It’s about need. Shit, it’s a frigging mercy mission.”


Another pulse of desire and the thick cock was leaping towards Spike’s hovering palm.


“S’ok, Luv. We won’t shag, just want to help you…”


Angel groaned and knew his judgement was shot to hell, but he had to admit this wasn’t the swelling, ripening tenderness he’d felt for Buffy. This was something older, more immediate and primal driving through his body like the beat of drums and the clash of spears.


Spike saw the acceptance in his eyes, bent his head to the broad chest and elongated canines delicately traced two red lines that healed almost as they appeared.


Angel was swamped by sensations; the stinging cuts, the tingle of healing and Spike’s lips gliding silkily over his skin. It was too much. He was lost and shivering to each touch, and could no more protest than he could have stood and walked away. Hell, even the standing part was beyond him, he was boneless and without will or strength of his own, his own cravings were bound to Spike’s desire. At that moment his beautiful childe could have demanded anything and Angel would have complied, there was nothing left of him except pliant flesh and nerve endings that hummed and danced to any tune Spike cared to play.


And Spike had been born to play this instrument, so finely attuned was he to Angel.


Harsh breaths kept the rhythm. A tug to sensitive nipples and Angel was swooping and flying like the notes falling glissando from a harpist’s fingers. Spike watched with darkened eyes.


“You need me, don’t yer, Peaches?”


His voice was shadow and husks, and Angel’s body responded, vibrating and resonating to the deep bass notes of that voice. He groaned Spike’s name, his blood singing in response to the talented fingers that played him. One hand stroked slickly over the length of his cock whilst the other held his balls, pressed them gently, tugging, rolling squeezing… Angel began panting, his body flexing and tensing, as he was wound tighter and tighter, until he could take no more…. Something snapped inside, recoiling through his body like a kick from an AK-47, and he was blown away.


Spike was moulded to him, reacting to him, thrusting jerkily against the wet, stickiness that pulsed and surged.


Spike’s body bowed, his eyes squeezed shut and for one flawless moment they were in tune with each other, holding tight with bruising fingers, gazing from sightless eyes, ecstasy wracking their bodies as they were drained to emptiness.


Angel shuddered and it seemed the world shuddered with him. He lay cradled in strong arms, shaking in the aftermath.




Angel nodded and opened his eyes. They were tangled together, sated and content. Spike never wanted to move again.


Except Angel started wriggling and disturbed him as he relaxed in the warmth of the afterglow.


Spike opened an eye, “What’s matter?”


“Can I take my jacket off now,” Angel asked plaintively.


Spike reluctantly rolled off and looked across at Angel’s debauched body, his glistening torso, framed by dark pants and black leather. Christ he looked so damned edible.


“Nah. Gonna keep you like this forever, Pet.”


Angel pouted.


“Not possible. I need to shower.”


“You’re perfect just the way you are.”


“I smell of you and sex.”


“See, told you. Perfect.”


“Yeah….” His dark brows drew together.




“It’s just… I don’t know where the line is,” he replied quietly.


“Uh? Run that by me again, Pet.”


“I’m still here, but it was so damned close to perfect. Where’s the line, Spike? Were you right, was this just about need? Is it because you’re a demon so the curse doesn’t work with you? Or if we fucked, would that tip it over the edge?”


Spike was thoughtful.


“See what you mean…. You’re thinking maybe a full shag and welcome back, Angelus?


“More to the point, it’s goodbye Angel. The thing is I don’t know, and until I do I shouldn’t be doing this with you,” he said with a frown, “I should have stopped you just now, but….”


Spike nodded his understanding.


“How about you ask Wesley?”


“Wesley? I don’t want him, I want you!”


Spike started laughing. Reaching out he finally eased Angel out of his constricting jacket.


“Thanks for that, Luv, but I meant get Wesley researching. Maybe we’ll be safe, like you say, cus the curse don’t work when you shag demons or he could find out how to make your soul permanent. There must be a way around it or else why would that Predictor have mentioned lovers?”


“You know about that? It doesn’t matter, we can’t trust it. We both know how those things work. The answer was probably thrown out by blind chance and we’re deluding ourselves.”


“Even if it was, it’s gone way beyond that between us now. How much do you want it?”


“This much.”


Angel took Spike’s hand and guided him, laying it over the length of his erection.


Spike's eyebrows raised in surprise.




“Told you it’d been a long time,” Angel replied miserably. “When we started this I kinda assumed I’d be safe with you, but I have to take responsibility. He’s too close. Even what we did was too damned close. I could almost feel Angelus rising inside me, shaking the bars and gloating at my weakness. I don’t know if we should continue….”


Angel merely meant, continue with the physical side of their relationship.


Spike heard something else entirely and his heart contracted.


Noticing the look Angel assumed that Spike was worried about the lack of sex.


“I’ll talk to Wesley tomorrow.”


Angel glanced at him, remembering everything else that had happened that day.


“Umm… do you want to talk about your day?”


Spike eyed him warily.


“Do we need to?”


They exchanged a look of understanding.


“No, I don’t think we do.”


Spike nodded, tucked himself into Angel and, found his natural place once more. Angel wrapped his arms protectively around him and they both closed weary eyes on a day that had been at odds with itself, from the miserable start, to the confusing end.




Angel was awoken with a kiss and in a way it exacerbated the dread knotting in his stomach. He had so much to lose now. He had a lover. One who woke him with kisses. 


Today he was going to ask Wesley, but supposing it was hopeless? 


He tried to divert his mind, anything to stop himself hoping or dwelling on the approaching disappointment. He needed something to take his mind off it. Spike could be endless diverting, but today he was silent, and that just added to the weirdness.


He smothered a grin, he knew just the thing to wind him up and set him away.


“Remember that Job Predictor?”


“Uh huh. How could I forget?”


“I think you should be Ghost.”


Spike caught his look of unbearable smugness. “Ok.  I’m gonna regret this but I’ll play along. Why?”


“Didn’t it predict you’d be a hunter gatherer?  I guess that makes you a caveman. You’re at one end of the evolutionary process and then there’s me, an astronaut, at the other end.”


Spike quirked his eyebrows.


“And you what? Think that makes you superior?”


“Well, yeah.”


“Don’t be completely stupid! All an astronaut has to do is learn how to press a few buttons.  Any monkey could be trained to do that. Hunting and gathering is a skilled job, takes intelligence and strength.”


“Strength maybe, but an astronaut is superior in all other ways.”


“Yeah? If it came down to a fight, the bleedin’ caveman would beat your brains out.”


“The astronaut would blast your brains out before you could even blink.”


“You’re allowed weapons? I’m talking about who’s superior, not who has better weapons.  Did the astronaut build the weapon with his own hands? No. Then it don’t count.” 


“Fair point. Obviously I would use my superior training and intelligence to beat you.”


“You’re over-civilised, lost the killer instinct. You’re too used to doing your killing at a distance.  I ‘d use my natural aggressiveness, cunning and overpowering strength…” Spike’s voice became passionate.


“Well, I’d use my enhanced intelligence, astuteness and powers of…” Angel cut through him with sheer volume.


“We are still talking about cavemen and astronauts, yeah?”


“Uh,” Angel replied sheepishly, “I guess it was getting out of hand.”


“I mean… astronauts and cavemen!”


“Stupid argument really.”


“Yeah, daft…the frigging astronaut wouldn’t stand a chance.”


“We’ll see what Wesley has to say to that.”


“And Gunn.”








Later that morning Wesley knocked at the door of Spike’s newly appointed office. The vampire had been busy researching a few of the names that Ghan had given him and then accidentally and inexplicably found himself in the middle of a shoot ‘em um game.


“Hello? Spike it’s me.”


“It’s open.”


“How are you? Your injuries? Are you healing ok?”


“Yeah. Slow obviously, but don’t think the name is indelible.”


Wesley settled himself uncomfortably, watching as Spike finished another level in his game.


“Getting your fix of mindless violence?”


 “Yeah. Hush. Damn. Look what you’ve made me do.”


He flung the control to one side and then looked at Wesley expectantly.


“Angel asked me a question earlier and it’s been on my mind ever since.”


“I don’t know why. Obviously the answer is cavemen. Savagery and instinct and pure animal aggressiveness will win out every time.”


“Well that wasn’t exactly what I’ve been thinking about. Although, Angel does have a point, evolution has a part to play.”


“Evolution into a load of self satisfied, mass-debaters, who over analyse every problem to death.”


“That’s certainly one point of view but… No, Spike. I will not be drawn into one of your petty little spats. Angel was asking about his curse.”


“Oh…that question.”


“I’m discussing it with you because I think that you have a vested interest in this.”




“He seemed to be under the impression that it didn’t work with demons, seeing as he didn’t lose his soul when he and Darla….”




“Yes, thank you, Spike. I think the point is, he wasn’t happy with Darla, he certainly didn’t love her, and he was generally in a bad place, as our American cousins like to say.”


“So he never reached perfect happiness with her? Where does that leave me?”


“Well, you’d know better than me. It seems…”


“Unlikely?” Spike pouted.


“But possible.”


“Oh. Have you told him this?”


“No, I wanted to speak to you first.”


Spike was grateful for small mercies. Angel had only chosen him as a lover because he was a demon and so wrongly assumed his soul would be a safe, if he knew differently how quickly would Spike be dropped from his life? It made his head hurt to think about it. Because when he did think about it he had the feeling he was buggered whichever way it went. And not in a good way.


“I have thought of one possibility for making his soul permanent, but it’s incredibly dangerous.”


“In what way? What are we risking here, Percy?”


“The permanent return of Angelus.”


“Oh. Is that all.” His voice dripped sarcasm.


“We both know him. You better than me. Maybe you could live with that. From your stormy relationship I’d say you used to be close.”


“And maybe you notice too much.”


“I noticed that he can be amusing, in a dark sort of way. He’s powerful. He’s charismatic. He’s attractive.”


“Why don’t you just bring him back and shag him yourself?”


“Spike, I need to know where you stand in this. Do you still care for Angelus? Does a part of you still long for him?”


“I think this is way beyond the point of none of your business.”


“I’m asking because everything would depend on you and I need to know how committed to Angel you are and how influenced by Angelus.”


“Just tell me and let me use my own judgement.”


“No. I’m sorry, Spike but I’m not sure I can trust you in this.”


He left Spike to ponder his words. He was pretty certain it was Angel he loved, but he had to admit the first attraction he’d felt had been for Angelus.


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