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I can't believe this. I sit here dumbfounded, looking at him - looking in his eyes. I hadn't really ever noticed their depth. I'd notice the color, and how they were like ice when he was pissed; and sparkly when he was happy, but I suppose I never realized they didn't have true depth, until he was human. I think back - flash back - to last year and how incredibly alive his eyes were versus all the pictures hanging on our wall. I figured it was because he *was* alive, but it was because he had a soul. I can see it.

Buffy said that too. When I came back, I asked her how she could even stand to be near me when I looked like Angelus - when I'd hurt her and tortured her so much. She said it was in my eyes - when the soul went through them and I looked up at her again - she said she saw my soul - my change.

And now I'm seeing his.

"How? I… don't… *how*?"

"Saw a lady… paid a price… told her a story and poof - got a one way ticket to Hell."

                "When? You… I'm just kinda thrown here, Spike."

                "A few weeks ago - it was far. Had to pass tests, solve riddles… had to recover after a bit 'fore I could travel. But…"

                "I could have helped. I-"

                "Had to do it on my own. Didn't really… didn't leave thinking I could - it just occurred to me. Was in a bar in New York and heard this demon talking of this Magi type she-witch that granted wishes - one wish to a worthy being."

                And hearing him talk about this… it's just… I can't get over this. Spike got a *soul*. For *me*. He got his soul so we could be together - so maybe it could work or… I don't know even know how it would but he *did* it.

                "Angel, I can't bloody take it. This… it's… I…"

                "I know," he says, touching my hands softly. "It's overwhelming."

                "Sometimes, most times. It's… and then for a few seconds, it feels like… normal - like it's how I've always been."

                "You've always cared, Spike; at your core you care about stuff. You're sentimental. I killed the man but couldn't suck the poet out of you, much as I tried. Are you okay though? Physically? You said there were tests? A price?"

                "Yeah, I'm fine. Feeling fine now," I assure him. I really am. "I've recovered from much worse." A lot of it at his hand - for his enjoyment.

                "You're not feeding though."

                "I can't- couldn't."

                "We'll work it out, Will. I'll help you through this."

                "I was hoping you would," I say and play with the blankets a bit. "You been up here?"

                "Couldn't stand to be down there without you, Spike. It was… too lonely and depressing." He touches my face - places a hand on my cheek - and I look at him. "It will be okay. I'll help you with this, okay? I… wanna talk this out and… we *have* to talk about stuff but-"

                "I'm exhausted," I say, relieved he doesn't want to get into this now too.

                "Thank god," he laughs and stands up. He pulls off his clothes, down to his boxers, and climbs into bed with me, nestles behind me and wraps his arms around me and the big lug's arms still feel like home.

                I pull him back against me and I can't believe it. I can't be*lieve* this. I'm way too tired and confused to make sense of this at all. I'm just so happy and relieved that Spike is back. Spike is back and he has a soul, which he got for *me* so we can be together, whatever that means now.

                "I love you," I whisper into his ear. "God, I missed you so much the last month. I'm so grateful you came back." I hug him gently and kiss his shoulder. "Sleep now."

                "Then shut *up*, you ponce," he murmurs. Same old Spike.

~*~*~*~*~

                I slowly open my eyes, and realize his arms are still tight around me - we haven't moved. I wonder if I slept at all. I would have thought he'd wake up before me but perhaps he was just really tired. Where the hell was he for two days? Could he have been in an epic battle for two days? I should have been there to help. I need to help him. Why wouldn't I have wanted to help him before?

                Since the magi dumped me in an empty building after the spell, I've given a lot of thought to this - to my soul. I thought… I thought I'd see dead people all around me or something - haunting me. I thought I'd hear whispers and screams. That's what I thought it was like for Angel. I thought I'd be wracked with guilt and the pain and suffering I've caused but that's not the case. Yes - the dreams… they're bad. I dream of things, the *worst* things, I've done and hate myself for doing them - for killing young children, raping women. And I wake up feeling guilty and horrible for it but at the same time, I don't. I wonder if this is what it's like for him - or what it was like for him.

                One second, I don't feel any different than I did a couple of years ago with the chip in my head, caged and not being able to do what I was made to do. And then the next second, I feel this huge burning misery. It's confusing, and conflicting, and I hate it.

                My stomach is growling since I haven't eaten much of anything. I should eat, I know I should, but the thought of blood makes me nauseous.

I hear his stomach gurgling and slowly open my eyes. I feel a little more rested; I must have slept better knowing he was here - feeling his presence. "You need to eat, Spike," I say, rubbing his stomach softly. "I remember after I first… I tried to feed off humans - thought I could just take a little and not kill, but I couldn't even do that. Almost got my head chopped off. That's when I switched to rats or raccoons or whatever."

"I tried," he says. "Tried… but just the thought…"

"That's just snobbery," I tell him. "Because you *never* liked vermin, Will- that's not the soul talking, that's you. But I think I've got pig or cow downstairs. I'll bring some up if you like. *Or*… just to get it back in your system, on your palate, you can have sire." I hold my wrist up for him to take if he likes. "I'm still your sire."

"Always," he nods, taking my hand gently. "Will this… make sense one day? I expected it to be… different."

"Let's wait to talk - have a feed, Spike. You look horrible; not nearly as sexy and buff as my childe should be. Drink your fill, okay? Drink deep."

                Right. Drink. It's just sire blood. "I know it seems… it's your first feed? With the soul? Spike… it's like… the soul being shoved into a demon package. You… you gotta find the balance between them. How to be a demon with a soul and not a soul with a demon."

                "Gee, that sounds easy enough, Peaches," I roll my eyes and he sighs. "What?"

                "I love when you call me that," he whispers and kisses my neck. "It's not easy. Truth be told, I don't think I really was able to *find* that balance until…"

                He trails off and I know- *Buffy*. I know she's our friend but sometimes I hate her… that she got my sire to love her first. "Until…?" I ask.

                "Until the night you walked in my door." Oh. "Until you came in here and reminded me that I'm a sire and a vampire and I can still love blood and save humans and be in this world… and I do, Spike. I still do love blood and those first few times here, when we got violent or rough… started cutting each other and playing… I realized it was *very* okay. Because I'm a demon with a soul - not a man with fangs."

                It all sounds very simple, but… but I allow my fangs to drop and I look at his wrist - inhale it - smelling his essence… the whole Angel-scent - guilt mixed with sexiness and poufy oatmeal soap and power… my mate's scent. I sink my teeth into his wrist and hope I don't reject this like I did the rat, but as soon as a drop hits my tongue, I'm digging my fangs in deeper, cutting more to make it flow faster.

                God that feeling is amazing, and it makes me hard instantly. It's like… he's BACK. I *really* didn't think he'd be back. I thought it was done for good, and now he's here - yet again amazing me. He got a *soul* for me. And here I thought he could never surprise me again.

                I run my fingers through his hair, which is growing in honey-colored, since he probably hasn't bleached it in a while. It's soft, and a bit on the long side, but it's still Spike. I don't know what to make of this whole situation. I don't know how to best help him. But I think getting him healthy and strong is the first step.

                He pulls away after drinking quite a bit. I feel a little woozy and I'll have to replenish my own self soon but I don't want to get up quite yet.

                "Sorry," he says. "I took a lot."

                "It's fine. I've got the fridge stocked up - Cordelia stocked up before the trip."

                "What trip? Where were you?" he asks, licking at my wrist until it's cleaned and closed.

                "Dawn's graduation party."

                "Oh *god*. I completely forgot about that," he says, flipping over quickly. "Was she mad I wasn't there? Did she like the trunk?"

                "She loved it. I… sort of explained the bare bones of things to everyone, I guess. Though I'm not really sure *what* I explained, because I couldn't really ex*plain* it. Will… I *never* meant to… I didn't think when I bit Tom. I wasn't even thinking *where* I was biting him. I was just so *mad* about Sarah and everything…"

                "I know. I *know* that. I…" Don't even know how to begin to talk about things with him. I've never really been comfortable talking about some stuff, and I don't know how to discuss the really important, horrible things. "I didn't mean to… I assume he died? I killed him?"

                "Yes," he answers. "I got him to the hospital, but it was too late. They couldn't do anything about it. You're not… you reacted how any mate would, Spike. I should have been more careful."

                "No, Angel. We both fucked the whole thing up. Thought just you turnin' me again would make everything back the way it was, but-"

                "It's never that simple - not for us. We should have known," he sighs. "But… why did you… I mean… this is pretty drastic or… something. I just-"

                "I wanted to be with you, Angel. I *want* to be with you. That's what this whole bleedin' tragedy is about, innit? 'Swhy I came here in the first place and it's why I stayed - why I moved in - why we did the mating ritual… we've been through *so* much now - just in the past four years, let alone what we shared before. I couldn't just let that all go to shit- not after last year - not after being that close with you. Were you prepared to just let it go?"

                "No. I've been… obviously *very* broody lately. Too broody - Cordelia kept calling me every night to make sure I wasn't planning on sitting on the roof at sunrise. But I didn't know what else to do."

                "Me neither; that's why when I heard about the Magi I figured it was the only option left. I can't be here and be a demon and I can't be here and be human, so-"

                "So you got your soul back," he finishes. "I just hope we can make *this* work."

                "If we can't, we'll *both* sit on the roof," I tell him. "Because I can't be without you. Just the prospect of it hurts me worse than anything. Not now that we share all three possible bonds that vampires can have. Not now that I'm… that we're in love. And god, I *feel* that, Angel. That's what happened - I know it is. When you turned me this time - it's like… the human soul left and it was almost like maybe what happened when the Slayer *took* your soul."

                "You were bitter…"

God that makes perfect sense now.  He was bitter at those who loved him and angry about feeling the feeling in the first place. Everything makes sense now. *Every*thing. I mean… he became a *vampire*.

"You lashed out and I didn't… I could have tried to help."

"I needed to get back to the old me - to the me before, who could accept and understand your mission, your destiny. It was either this, or wait it out a hundred years and hope for the best, and I couldn't stand the idea of being alone for another hundred years."

"Will, you weren't alone for a hundred years."

"I was without *you*. I was alone. I had Darla and Drusilla, for Christ sake," he laughs.

"I wish I hadn't left you with Darla. She couldn't have been fun."

"Sometimes she was," he shrugs. "Sometimes she was fine, until she decided to punish me for not being *you*." He got punished a LOT in those years. "But me and Dru split from her and went off and had fun."

"When?" I wonder. I always wondered, in Sunnydale, when they left Darla.

"Summer of 1922," he says quietly.

I feel him tense up - his entire body. I feel his insides tense up too; I feel it in *my* body through what we share. "I got back," I say. "Met up with them in New York and she was pretty livid about the whole thing. She took me to task over it; had a fit and when she was done, I packed Dru's stuff up, stole one of the minions and a car from a rich man and we left."

He's still rigid - frozen. I know he's not… we've never discussed it - never even *brought* up that summer- that week. I have no idea *how* but perhaps we *should* talk about it; or at least broach the subject.

                "Angel, those few days… they changed us. They changed our paths - *both* of ours. They solidified that you couldn't live in our world anymore, that you didn't fit. And they got me out from Darla's thumb; they made little William grow a spine and walk away from it all. It was not pleasant; but necessary for both of us. If I'd been with Darla, there was no way I'd have ended up in Sunnydale, or at least not the way it was. We wouldn't… we might not be here at all had it not been for what happened in Miami."

Those days… those were some of the first that came flooding back to me after I got my soul back - before Buffy stabbed me. Sure, I remembered times spent with her, but that was after remembering the guilt and pain of what I'd done to my beautiful boy, both in Miami and Sunnydale. But to hear him talking about it like it was nothing? Like it was just another every day experience?

"Will… that was-" I stop. I don't know what to say. "That was… the most horrible thing I've ever done to you," I manage to squeak out. "You shouldn't… be *grate*ful for it."

"Stop," he says sitting up. "Stop it. I- I don't know why we never broached the subject, maybe because we were both embarrassed by it, but it's part of who we are, and it was *not* as horrible as some of the things that happened in Sunnydale on a physical level. You stabbed me, you used me, but as my sire-"

"That was NOT a sire-childe… Spike," I say as *I* sit up. "You can't pass everything off as 'it wasn't me' type shit because that *was* me. *Me* me- *now* me. Angelus with a soul me. And it was not okay for me to - punish you that way in that filth and… what I did… what I…"

"You're thinking like a human, Angel - beating yourself up for what? Raping me? It's not like you didn't do it in Sunnydale. It's… in the last five weeks a lot has become clear about that - about a lot of things. We share an often horrible, but mainly good history of events; all of which contributed to us being *here*. I wanted my sire back then, 'Gelus. I wanted us together again and if I could have been what you needed - I would have stayed with you- not even returned back to the girls. We could have stayed and had… something. But I couldn't be what you needed then - I didn't… I wasn't *able* to accept it. I didn't *want* to accept it, but I *can* now, Liam. I *can*."

He's just been beating himself up for this, and maybe I let him because I never brought it up, but I never really understood until recently. "I *can* be what you need, because I know I couldn't be then - in 1922, or five weeks ago. I get that you were punishing me - using *me* to punish yourself for everything - you needed an outlet for that anger and pain and despair. I *felt* all those things when I went looking for you in Miami- when I left my blood all over town. I knew you needed me and I needed you too. I just didn't understand about a soul - didn't know what it meant when Darla kept telling me what had happened to you. But I understand it now. I know what it is - it's what separated us then. But it won't do that now."

"How can you *do* that?" he asks. "How can you just fucking *do* that, Spike?" he repeats, getting up and throwing the covers down angrily. "HUH? How can you just sum up this experience so succinctly, without batting an eyelash and make it sound almost romantic? *Huh*? How can you just… overlook these horrible fucking things that I *did* to you?" He's almost screaming at me or himself again, I'm not sure but I feel his entire being humming with confusion and self-hate and just… intensity.

"Because I *love* you," I tell him, and get up on my knees so I'm eye-level with him. "Because I *love* you now- the most… the deepest and most complete way I can - with my heart, and my blood, and my *soul*."

I know how intense he's feeling because I feel it too - with every cell of my being.

Fuck he makes it sound just *so* simple. He makes it sound like it just solves *all* our problems and if only things were that easy; but all I wanna do now is believe him and be kissing him - be pushing him down on that bed and making love with both my lovers - demonic Spike and William's soul.

"Will…" I whisper softly, and he must feel it too, because he's wrapped his arms around me quickly and his mouth is on mine, and our tongues are just melting together. I close my eyes and I can feel *every*thing in this kiss - his blood and the bond we share and how much he loves me, how much he *cares* - about me and everything, how much he believes in this; in us. I can taste everything on his tongue - our shared history, and our hope for the future… it's amazing and I push him back on the bed but he stops me.

"Not here," he says. "*Our* room."

"Okay," I nod and kiss him some more as we manage to get up. It's a frenzy of deep and passionate kisses as we walk down the hallway to the elevator, because I don't trust us on the stairs.

I push him against a wall so I can press myself against him and kiss him - practically inhaling his mouth - his scent, his tongue, his entire essence - the resonance that is Angel. He pushes *me* back against a wall and kisses me just as furiously, and by the time we get in the elevator I'm pulling at his clothes, which isn't much, since he's just wearing boxers. God it feels like… FOREVER since I was here - with him. And I know we had sex before I left, but that was angry and resentful, and it in no way compares to *this* - to feeling this with my SOUL. To feeling it with my soul *and* my blood.

It's like my entire existence is right here, right now - in his body, in his hands - the way he touches me, slides his hand through my hair and pulls my mouth closer to him. It's all-encompassing,- crackling in the air around us. The elevator stops and he pulls me out with him, down the hall to OUR bedroom. It's stale with us now; old scents, but it won't be for long. It'll be fragrant with *both* our souls now.

This is *un* *real*. My entire body feels alive for the first time in a LONG time. Since the last time we were together, before he turned human. I pull him onto the bed with me, and roll over him and he pulls at my shoulder blades to press our bodies together as we keep kissing, and he's panting a little, and I can't help it, but I am too. It's so intense, I can't even describe it.

I reach over to the drawer for some lube but he stops my hand. "Just blood - *our* blood." I nod and tear at my injured wrist. I press it to his lips and he draws from it a bit before pulling my mouth to his, and just tasting us from his lips is enough to have me burst at the seams.

"Will… stop… gonna come if we don't get me in you now," I explain why I pull away from the kiss and he lays there, panting still as I slicken him up for me. My hips are already undulating, like I'm in him already; my cock is aching to be home: deep inside my boy where I belong, where I've always belonged, where I'll finally be able to fit completely.

He pulls my mouth to his, pulls me up, tugs on my sides to pull me toward him. "Okay," I whisper as I press inside him slowly and it's like touching Heaven, I swear.

                "Oh *god*," he gasps, and buries his head in my neck, as if he's never been inside me before - but he's right. This is… *way* more intimate than it's *ever* felt.

                "Angel…" I whisper. "Angel, look at me. Look at me," I request and pull his head up. I hold his face and make him look at me as he pushes in deeper and groans.

                "Ohhh *god*."

                "Angel, I *love* you," I say. "I *love* you," I repeat and force his lips to mine as he groans more. I force him to kiss me and swallow his declarations of pleasure.

Oh *God*… that's all I can manage as I move my hips, rolling them gently - rocking with him, not thrusting. We just rock our hips together in a rhythm that seems so familiar and constant. I slide my hands up his arms and our fingers just lock around each other and we're clutching each other's hands and rocking together, lips pressed tight. We can't kiss because we're both just whimpering and biting our lips and groaning and licking - but it's that connection, that feeling of being as close as you possibly ever could be to another person - like I can read his thoughts if I wanted to - like I could literally crawl into him.

"Liam… Angel… 'Gelus…" he pants and whimpers, trying to pull away from me. He twists his hips because I'm just rubbing against him constantly and he's overflowing with pleasure and his legs slide up and are grasping at my hips - squeezing me because of the intensity of the pleasure. I know this because I feel it too - deeply,

"I know," I nod. God dammit I know, William. I don't want this to end but we're moving toward such a deliciously explosive end and I think we're actually sweating. I really think I am. I taste salt on his lips - on my lips - but I press mine against his regardless and we just rock.

~*~*~*~*~

I purr softly, contentedly, as he rubs my back and shoulders ever so gently. Our legs are tangled up in our dampened sheets, and I'm pressed against him intimately, my head resting in the crook of his armpit. "Mmm…" I purr a little louder - feel it vibrating deep within my chest - just like I felt it while we were rocking together.

"I know the feeling," he says and kisses my forehead. "It's like… like experiencing pure, uncomplicated happiness."

A moment of perfect happiness this is, I think. Oh *god*…

"I swear to God and everything holy, Angel, if you lose your soul I'm going to cut off each and every one of your fingers and make you eat them," he says and pinches me *hard*.

"*Ow*," I yelp. "That fucking hurt."

"Well I couldn't have you being all perfectly happy, could I, you bleedin' tragic poufter?"

"Aww, see?" I smile as he cocks that delicious eyebrow to look up at me. "Now *that* was perfect happiness."

"So… you think we'll be okay?" I ask quietly, kissing his chest gently.

"I think… it's going to take a lot of work - a lot of… me helping you - sussing out what this soul means for you and what it means in general. But I think *yeah*, we'll be okay."

"I think so too," I smile and place my head back on his chest. "I definitely do."

"Good, since Cordy's wedding is like two weeks away and now that you're back, you're going back in the wedding party."

Oh fuck. I groan. I forgot about that.

"But I'll definitely make it worth your while," he whispers, biting my ear playfully.

"What'd you have in mind, Pet?" I ask as I feel his hand sliding down toward my cock.

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