There's nothing original about it.

I'm standing here on a street corner looking up at the house of a former lover. It's been done in a thousand cheesy movies and by a million different people in a million different cities since the beginning of time. I'm not blazing any trails or discovering any cures for cancer. I'm just standing here smoking one cigarette after another and hoping that his life is as bloody miserable as mine is these days.

He doesn't even live in a proper place for Christ's sake; it's a goddamned hotel. Who lives in a hotel by themselves? I mean does he really need 200 closets for all of his clothes? On a Friday night, does he decide to go wild and say to himself, 'should I read De Maupassant in a 3rd or 4th floor suite tonight? 'I inhale one last time on my cigarette and toss it to the ground, into a puddle that I suspect is someone's vomit-I don't want to know.

"Hello stranger."(I know that simper anywhere. It's the bitch queen herself-Darla)

I'd hoped to never see her again once Angelus got souled, but just like old times-she calls and I come running to do her bidding. Before, she always had Angelus to ensure my compliance, and my Sire was always very persuasive. I was weak against even his most subtle tortures. Most of the time all it took was a hand on my shoulder…sliding down my back. Then my cock jumped to make all of the decisions, shutting my brain out of the whole process. But Angelus isn't here now, so I have no reason to agree to meet her. My only excuses this time are my own stupidity and six little words-I'm going to bring back Angelus.

She'd sent a telegram, a young kid in a brown uniform handed it over and I'd laughed at the time when I saw who it was from. What, no liveried footman, no vampire minion, just a pimple faced kid chewing gum and having no idea how lucky he was to not be living a hundred years ago. He would have been either a corpse or an eternal servant to the Goddess of Death herself. This one just looked bored as I shot him a dismissive –then annoyed look as he waited for a tip.

Here's a fucking tip-get the hell out of here before I beat the shit out of you and rip your god damned throat-um…oh yeah…before I have my girlfriend Harmony kill you. That is so depressing. Doesn't it just sum up my 'life' now? I'm a fucking eunuch.

Maybe that's why the message she'd sent was so intriguing? "I'm going to bring back Angelus."

Call it boredom, I don't' care. Something inside of me missed the old boy. I just had a feeling that Angelus would either find a way to get this chip out or he'd stake me for being such a pathetic loser. Either way, I wouldn't have to live with this chip anymore, so-big plus in my book.

Darla had told me to meet her here in LA and so I had. It's funny, I hadn't heard from her since the whole gypsy cure business and not only did I wonder how she'd found me, but how did she expect me to have any influence over Angel?

"I didn't think you'd come." She always delivers every line like the air is being choked from her, each syllable trembling in her throat and being expelled in a breathy whisper. It used to drive Angelus mad with lust, but it usually just annoyed me and now was no different.

She's small, blonde and what's this-human? When did that happen? She's starting to remind me of another small, blonde human bitch that always pisses me off-the slayer.

"Well, I certainly didn't come here to hear you prattle on, why don't you just get to the point?" I never had the stones to talk to her like that back in the day. She would have hacked off my balls with a dull knife-I have complete faith in that, but she's human now and I'm still a vampire. Although I guess I really can't do anything to her…or even defend myself…this is so depressing. I guess it's best she doesn't know about 'my situation' and I'm sure as hell not going to tell her.

"You always were an impatient boy. " she smiles as she moves closer and rests her hand on my chest.

"Yeah, and you always were a manipulative bitch-what's changed. Oh, the whole 'being human' thing is a new look for you." I wink at her. 'It suites you."

She thinks me easily swayed by her charms and in the beginning I could have easily been, but I've fucked her, been fucked by her and frankly it's going to take a little more than that this time to persuade me to even lift a finger to help her. Or, it just might take the promise of Angelus.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, he's not going to wake up?" I ask nervously as Darla and I stand at the foot of the bed, watching Angel sleep.

She gives a little half smile and glances sideways at me. "No, but I assure you that he's fully functional, I've tested that extensively."

I'll bet she has. "So why do you need me? You always had him by the short hairs, why don't you just give a little twist?"

"He's been resistant," she says petulantly. "It's taking longer than I thought. That's why I called you; you were always his favorite. I want you to help me. "

The warning bells in the back of my head are screaming now. "And you want me to…"

"He sleeps in the nude you know," she offers in explanation.

"I remember."

Darla tugs at my shirt, pulling it out of my jeans and lifting it halfway up my chest with one hand. "You won't be needing this."

"Hey now," I protest, taking a step back, then lowering my voice," what do you think I am?"

"Don't be a prude, you never were before." She laughs and reclines on the bed next to my Sire.

The skirt of her dress slides up her thighs, clinging to her hips as she scoots closer to him-ice white rosebuds on a field of indigo flashing in the dim light. They shift further as she rolls on her side and throws her leg over his stomach. Looking back at me, she rubs her right index finger around his nipple until it pops up in attention. "He always was sensitive here-remember?"

Oh, unfair. A thousand images of sensations that made Angelus gasp in pleasure flood my brain and I find myself pulling the t-shirt over my head. I'm weak. I admit it. It seems that once again, my other head is making all the decisions and rational, logical thought will be on vacation tonight.

Darla beams in triumph. "Be a good boy and do as you're told Spike. Stop_wasting_time."

I unbuckle my belt, pants are next and within moments I'm standing at the foot of the bed ready to do whatever she tells me and probably a few things I'll make up on the spur of the moment. Creativity *is* a gift.

I reach out to pull the sheet off of Angel and let it flutter to the floor as I crawl on the bed to join them. It's been so long since I've touched him in *this* way. I've tried many times to substitute someone else's face for his- Darla's, Drusilla's Harmony's…Buffy's, but it never works. In the end, at night when I'm alone and staring at the ceiling-it's always his mug that comes to me. It's always the face I've known since my death, the face I've alternately loved and hated for over a century.

I'm straddling his knees when Darla rises up, discards her dress by pulling it over her head and tossing it behind her. She turns around to face me and sits on Angel's chest, legs spread wide to clear his massive torso and she begins to rub her pussy over his skin in a trail from sternum to belly.

As she slides inches away from me, she leans in and says," let's seal this deal and she brings her lips to mine-thrusts her tongue into my mouth and is gone again before I have time to react. She slides back up his chest, breaks her pelvic contact with his chest and hovers over his face, legs straining to hold her weight until she comes down and sighs, as a sleeping Angel does not disappoint her.

It's typical for her to get right down to the business of seeing about her needs. I get the big lug fired up and she reaps the benefits. Why does she need me again?

I reach out and grip Angel's swelling cock, feeling every bump and fold of skin, still familiar after all of these years. I slide my hand up and down in time to Darla's rhythm, but soon forget about her as I lean over and swirl my tongue around the head of his shaft. The first drops of salty, clear pre cum greet my taste buds and I take the entire length into my mouth, saliva and cheek muscles working in concert to create a suction that starts him quivering.

Angelus was the first man I'd ever done this for and the last. Does that make me love's bitch. Am I pathetic to hold onto the memory of someone who felt no compunction about fucking any pussy that came along? Yes it does. I've never been able to forget him. He's beaten me, tortured me, abandoned me and the first chance I have to try and get him back-I can't get there fast enough.

I try to ignore the sounds of pleasure Darla makes and imagine it's just Angelus and I, that there's just the two of us and fuck the world. We'd be safe and secure in our own private hideaway. I move my head up and down, trying to take him in a little farther each time and imagine what he'd say-Spike, I've loved you, there's never been another who has touched my soul like you have. Nah, that's unbelievably corny, he'd *never* say that. I spread his thighs wider. How about -Spike everyone's a pain in my ass, except you. Well, hardly romantic. I feel him start to spasm.

He explodes, shooting a river of semen that I desperately try to swallow. As if every little drop of him, every ounce of his essence is gold, or the elixir of life- instead of just the wad of a fucker who left me, isn't even conscious enough to know I'm sucking him off and who's face is buried in a cunt who was always more important than I'll ever be.

Darla's finished and she stops to pick up her dress from the floor as she head to the bathroom to clean herself off?

I fall on the bed next to Angel and cross my arms behind my head and sigh in self-disgust. I look over at the wanker and am pissed because I can't even blame him. He didn't make me come here, he didn't ask me suck his cock-I did those things all on my own. It's another example of smart decision making by Spike. I turn over and give him my back.

I can feel his weight shift in the bed and he presses against my back, arm thrown over my hip and reaching for my prick. He nuzzles the back of my neck. "Spike, I've missed you." I can feel his cock nudging into me, still wet with his cum and my saliva.

I feel moisture forming in my eyes. He's missed me.

ROMANIA 1898

______________

Show no mercy she'd told us.

And we'd obeyed her to the letter.

Men… women… children, we killed every one. Not a soul lived through the night in that gypsy camp and still it wasn't enough. The loss of Angelus tore every bit of civilization from her; she wandered through the bodies like a frightful specter, covered in their own gore and the ash of their home's devastation, personally checking each one to assure herself they were truly dead. She never said a word until all were twisted corpses splayed against the background of the blood soaked earth, and only then did she say, "It's not finished."

We began scouring the countryside for other gypsies, it didn't matter that they were not related to the band who had souled our Angelus. Darla would have her revenge-and she did, for nearly two years. We visited terrible devastation on the populace that would be felt for generations and even with that-it wasn't enough for her. She was mad with grief. Not only did she blame those nomadic people for their curse, some small part of her blamed me.

`````````

"How many?" Darla's gaze scans the horizon as an owl sings its night song off to our right. It's a messenger of death, of the death we bring and its piercing call floats above ghost white feathers that noiselessly propel it on its mission.

I sigh wearily. "I don't know-twenty, twenty-five?"

"It's not enough." She brings her gaze from the nearly dawn skyline and her eyes are filled with panic. "You've got to go out again, you've got to kill more."

Usually an order like that would fill me with delight and have me scrambling off to accomplish it in grand style, but not now. I'm tired and the sun is nearly here. She used to complain of my recklessness, but she has far surpassed even me these days.

"It's nearly morning," I snap. "Why don't you grab a bottle and get some sleep. I know that's number one on my list." I wave an unopened bit of whiskey I'd pilfered off of a body tonight. "It'd do you some good, you've got to pace yourself. I can't believe you've lived this long, I bloody well have to tell you everything."

"He used to love whiskey, " she murmurs distractedly at the bottle flashing in front of her face.

"Yeah he did. I miss the bastard too, but I'm trying to carry on. What else am I going to do? He's gone. He's never coming back. You're going to have to deal with it, or at least slow down on the genocide of Romania. At this rate, we're never going to make it out of here with our undead hearts *unstaked*. I know you've got a mission, but take it easy will 'ya?"

"Take it easy?" She swivels her head and pins me with an expression that, while only reflecting about thirty percent of her rage and devastation, still scares the shit out of me. She reminds me in that moment of Angelus and I feel a catch in my heart as my own sorrow rushes over me (he's gone forever). "It's your fault," she accuses baldly as the words hiss between her clenched teeth.

Oh, that's unbelievable. I've taken the blame for a lot of things since I was turned. I seem to be the scapegoat for every bit of bad luck that has befallen us, but I'm *not* taking the blame for this. "My fault… I never told him to kill that fucking gypsy, who knew her family had such powerful magical ties?"

"I'm not talking about that, you stupid idiot. I was going to use his family to barter for his help to rid Angelus of his soul. But you couldn't control yourself could you… you killed them before I even got a chance to get Angelus back and now I never will"

Oh, she's talking about the gypsy's father-again. Yes I was rash, caught up in the moment…we've been over this a thousand times and I know she's never going to give it up. She should have told me her plans before we went in to the camp; I'm not a goddamned mind reader am I? Now it's too late, we may never remove this curse. Angelus may as well be dead to us.

"You've got to take his place." She grabs my arm in earnest.

"How's that?"

"You're the man of the family now," she laughs at the irony. "William the man-child must wear the pants of this clan now." The last is followed by a peal of laughter that doubles her over.

Do I have to be as much of a pompous ass as he was, I don't think I could fill those shoes. "What are you laughing at? I can do it."

Darla straightens up and wipes the tears from her eyes as a few errant chuckles escape. "Can you?" she asks, voice full of sarcasm. "Why don't you start right now?"

"How?" I don't trust this bint, I never have.

She steps closer and reaches for my trousers, taking my scrotum in her hand. "You've got some mighty big shoes to fill, but I daresay-you might grow into them."

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

"Spike, this is Lindsey McDonald." Darla's voice cuts through my thoughts, bringing me back to the present.

I shake hands with some floppy haired lawyer. I've worked with many demons and other filth, but never a lawyer. Why do I find it hard to trust a law firm that's in league with Darla? This firm, Wolfram & Hart specialize in representing our kind and they are the ones who raised Darla. I'd think about getting my money back if I were her. I mean, human? They couldn't do any better than that? They haven't even tried to revamp her or anything. They just encourage these nightly games, but no ones said what their ultimate purpose is. If they think to bring Angelus over, I hope they're not stupid enough to think they can control him on a short leash although it would be amusing to see them try. The thought of that realization alone makes me want to stay around and watch.

"Spike?" Lindsey mouths my name in wonder. "I've heard a lot about you."

I glare at Darla in annoyance. I can just imagine what she's been telling him. Her opinion of me was never secret-or flattering." I wouldn't believe everything you hear…" I plant my ass on the edge of his desk and fumble for my cigarettes. "…after all, consider the source." Darla's jaw clenches slightly. Ha, Angelus taught her that. He was always the king of the moody, monotone facial expressions. Lindsey steps closer to her, protectively and a warning bell goes off dimly somewhere in the back of my brain. He's got that sappy, lovesick look on his face-the one Angel always had when he looked at her, it's no less nauseating now as it was then. So, old floppy hair's got a thing for Darla. I pity him. I pat my pockets and find-nothing. Damn, I'm out of cigarettes. That just pisses me off, now I'm feeling perverse. I return my attention to the two standing in front of me. "Did she tell you abut the part where she took me under her wing-made a man out of a boy?" I leer appropriately and am pleased when he looks at her with barely disguised hurt and confusion. That hit a nerve.

"Why would I bore him with that, it was such a short tale," She sneers with that annoying lift of her eyebrow

In the past, I might have heeded that warning look, but not now. "So, what's this all about? I set a low flame under his killer nature, sit back and watch it all come to a boil?"

"Something like that." Lindsey nods.

What's up with his hand, it's all plastic-y looking… It's a fake. I can't look away, it's disturbing and fascinating all at once…and-cool.

He notices my attention and clamps his lips together while he unconsciously strokes its surface with his other hand. "Angel did this to me, during Darla's summoning."

"Well mate, if you call Angelus out to play, he'll do a lot worse to you than that."

"Let us worry about what happens then, you just do your job and bring him over." He says with a smug little grimace.

Yeah, I think I would like to let him worry about that. It'll be fun to see him strung up and covered in his own blood at Angelus' welcome home party, but I don't feel like playing along so soon. "What do I get out of this?"

"You get Angelus back." Darla smiles.

"I do! Well, considering the fact that he spent the majority of his time sniffing around your skirts, I don't see as that's a big attraction for me." I don't think I can stand to compete with her for his affection again. It was hard enough the last time.

"Don't give me that shit William." She emphasizes the use of my human name, knowing full well how much I hate that, how much I hated myself back then. "I know all about you and Angelus, you were always his favorite childe. He used to say that you were the only sane thing Drusilla ever did." Her voice lowers as she continues in a conspiratorial whisper, "I know that he used to come to you, after we'd made love…he said he wanted to make you into a powerful vampire…his true son and lover. He told me he wished that he'd sired you."

Bitch. She knows just where to twist the knife. All my time those days was spent trying to impress my sire's sire. I think I loved him from the first time Dru presented me to him. I'd been nothing more than an annoyance to him, a barely tolerated joke.

Dru was so proud of the creation she'd made. He barely deigned to notice me, just laughed when the blonde woman beside him, Darla, had cautioned Dru to throw the runt back. I'd tried to be soft and accommodating, to mirror the qualities he found so arousing in the women, but he usually just looked through me. It was only when I started getting angry, when I started rebelling that he looked at me with anything other than boredom. And I reacted, doing anything to draw his attention to me-good or bad .I craved his anger and fists as much as I'd craved his tongue and the touch of his hand along my thigh, and every new act of insolence bought me a few more moments of his time stolen from Dru and Darla.

During the day, when we were supposed to be sleeping, I would pen verses about him, for him, but this time I never showed them to anyone. I didn't want to hear him say that I was beneath him as Cecily had, even though he showed me in every gesture how insignificant I was to him, I couldn't bear to hear him actually speak the words. In the quiet loneliness of my room, I reverted to my true nature, to the William I had always been, but I vowed to change, to make myself worthy of him.

I observed the viciousness and cruelty he appreciated in Darla and Dru, I mirrored it and when that didn't fully sway his affections from the women, I surpassed it. I took every word he spoke; every facial expression, every hand gesture and I pulled them inside of me, twisted them and made them something new. I took everything that *was* him, made it a part of myself and spat it back out at him, hoping he would recognize himself mixed with the parts of me and realize what a perfect combination we made. And he did, but only for short periods of time. For a few blissful weeks, he would come to me every night, but it never lasted…eventually he would go back to *her*, to Darla. I never knew who to hate more her for taking him away, or him for not loving *me* as much as he did her.

"So, you'll help us?" The lawyer asks.

"I don't know," I answer in a bored tone. It never pays to appear over eager.

"We may be able to do something about that chip in your head," Lindsey says.

He has my full attention now and I can hear Darla asking in the background what chip he's talking about, but I don't give a shit about her. I lean forward menacingly. "Take it out?"

He crosses his arms over his chest, obviously certain he's won this round. "After."

I imagine him hanging by that tie from the very ceiling of this office, while his face turns purple and his eyes bulge from lack of air. If these Wolfram &Hart assholes can do this, they're my kind of people. Or at least they will be until I'm unchipped and then they'll be dead kind of people. Angel's life is about to get very interesting. "I'll do it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Calynthia powder. That's what Darla had called it. I don't know what the hell it is, but it keeps Angel asleep for Darla and my visits. Tonight was supposed to be our night off, but here I am.

Am I dedicated?

Do I want to show up Darla?

Do I want to have him all to myself for once?

He turns over in the bed and the sheet slips from him, exposing his bare torso. I sigh and walk slowly over to him. He is the most beautiful man I have ever seen, but then my perception may be a little skewed. I can only look at him with the eyes of a lovesick fool, there's no objectivity. I try to be hard, to hate him and sometimes I can manage it. But I always end up back at this soft place, where I try to get him to notice me, to be worthy of him. No matter how far I've come, I never learn-it's an infinite circle of my own failure.

He rolls over again, this time facing me. He makes a small series of grunts and moans in his sleep-and something that sound suspiciously like a whispered name. Did he just say Spike?

Probably not, but I can't stop myself from sitting on the mattress next to him and placing my palm against his chest, smoothing my hand down to the light dusting of hair that starts just below his stomach. I can't help but hear the unmistakable sound of pleasure that the caress draws from him-even in his sleep. I lean over and place a light kiss against his belly and feel the muscles there quiver at the touch of my lips.

Darla would be furious if she knew I was here without her, but that bitch can fry in hell for all I care. I need this time with him; I know he's not Angelus-not fully. I just want to have him all to myself, even if it's just for a little while. I nibble slowly up his chest and stop along the way to run my tongue over the hard little nub of his nipple. It contracts in protest and I worry it, licking it repeatedly and finally ending up biting it gently. His nipples always have been very sensitive.

His sharp little gasp makes me smile and I extend my tongue, making a wet, broad swipe across his skin-all the way to his neck. I close my eyes as I end the lick with a small kiss and inhale his scent. It's just as I remembered and I rest my forehead on his shoulder for a moment, praying that this time could last forever and cursing everything that took him away from me. This is how I wish I could always remember our time together, just he and I…and a bed…a carriage…the stables…a clearing in the trees…I didn't care then and neither did he.

His hand reaches up and grasps the back of my head and pulls me close until our lips touch. "William," he breathes.

I never minded when he called me William, not at times like this. I didn't mind it without that tone that said 'William, you ponce, you idiot, you worthless piece of shit.' This tone was soft, yearning-intoxicating in it's intimacy. I would live a thousand lifetimes, suffer anything to hear him say William like *this*.

I try not to blubber like an idiot when he hungrily kisses me, advancing his tongue into my mouth. I just try to encourage his exploration, mirror it enough to flame him into further passion and it works. Angel guides my shoulders down until I 'm reclining next to him and he rolls on top of me.

"Sshh, William…they'll hear us," he mutters against my mouth.

"Well, we wouldn't want that now would we?" I answer through teeth that nip at his lower lip. Ah, sleep my dear sweet Angel. You have the *best* dreams.

He nudges my thighs apart, brings my knees up and spreads them wide. I can feel a few dribbles of his fluid drip on the skin of my inner thigh next to my balls before I actually feel his cock pushing against me, slowly stretching me, until he's nearly in and then he begins a few gentle thrusts.

"Oh, William," he groans and I hear the Irish lilt creep into his voice.

"Oh, Angelus," I moan back as he increases the force of his movements. Please forgive me for fucking up our only chance to force the gypsies to take back their curse so long ago, please don't choose Darla over me again, but most of all- please don't ever stop what you're doing right now.

Prague 1901

===================

Angel stirred the fire, ignoring the small, biting sparks that crackled from its depths. He didn't need the heat, but he needed the monotony of its upkeep, needed something to occupy his mind and keep him from thinking about…

"What are you brooding about now, mate?"

Angel hastily replaced the iron poker to its place and turned to face his visitor. "Will….Spike," he corrected, knowing that that was the name the blonde preferred now." I didn't think you'd come."

Spike smiled as he came farther into the room, shedding his heavy coat and dropping it to the floor in his wake. "I said I'd come." He glanced around the interior of the small room. "Why are you following us, you know she'll never take you back. The whole 'soul thing' is just too much for her."

Angel hung nervously by the hearth. Spike had just voiced the dread that he'd been choking under since Darla had kicked him out. After 150 years together, she could just toss him out like so much garbage, without a backward glance, while he stalked her through Europe, while he relied on Wil…Spike to give him news of what she was doing?

"How is she?"

Spike shook his head sadly. "Aw mate, you've got it bad-don't you."

"Is she seeing anyone else?" He didn't know if he could bear to hear it if she was, he silently prayed that no new vampire had moved in on their little family unit, that no one new had upset the delicate balance the four of them had.

"There's no one…new," Spike confirmed, eyeing his mentor.

"Good," Angel sighed in relief. He gestured towards a chair. "Have a seat, tell me the news."

Spike didn't move to obey. "No news, but I did bring you something." He fumbled in his pocket and brought out a lace-covered shift. "I nicked it from her room when she wasn't looking. God knows why, must be the sight of the pathetic joy on your face I was sure it would bring. You've really got to give her up…you know that don't you?"

Angel rushed forward and snatched the garment from Spike's hand, bringing it up to his face and inhaling it. "It still smells like her. Thank you…" he stopped and sniffed the air between them. Darla's scent was unmistakable on the material, but it also seemed to be in the room…no, not in the room, coming from…him…from Spike? "Why do you…" Angel's eyes widened as the realization hit him. "You fucked her, didn't you?"

"That's such a gutteral term," Spike protested as Angel's fist clutched a handful of his shirt and started shaking him roughly. "She missed you and she…"

"Climbed on top of you," Angel finished crudely.

"Well, now that you mention it, she was on top. Until she…" Spike stopped when the hand left his shirt and closed around his neck."..um, but that's not important now is it?"

Angel loosened his grip and hung his head, fighting the pain in his chest at the realization that he'd been replaced; he fought back the tears that proved his weakness. Every doubt was true, everything he'd worked to build was gone and he was truly alone now. "I miss you all so much."

"I know you do." Spike reached out to crush him in a hug. "It's not the same without you old man. I've had it up to here with Darla's bitching, I've half a mind to pack my shit up. Dru and I could come here?" He said the last with wistful hope in his voice.

Angel sighed as he returned the embrace. It's no good William, I have a soul now, I can't hunt with you and Dru anymore. I'm 'GOOD'. In fact, I was thinking about seeking sanctuary in a monastery."

Spike laughed against Angel's neck. "A monastery? I'm sorry, I just can't picture *you* at a monastery."

He couldn't picture himself there either, but he needed someone to tell him what had happened, what came next. Most of all, he needed someone to tell him how to be 'good', something he'd never been even when he was mortal. It was all so confusing, especially with William here, hard against him, smelling like *her*.

Spike broke away from him and took Angel by the hand." I guess this means we'll have to say goodbye," he suggested as he led him to the bed.

===============================================

The bed.

Angel shut the door, but didn't move away. His palm rested against the wood surface and he stared at it, fixated, trying to block out the *image* of the neatly bed made behind him. This hand had committed numerous atrocities, murdered countless souls; -and saved some. This hand had done many things, but it couldn't save him from the bed behind him, or the dreams that would come once he lay down on it. Nothing could save him from that; he'd tried.

He hadn't slept in three days and it was beginning to tell-in the lines around his eyes and the permanently etched frown around his mouth. He couldn't see it of course, but Cordelia never missed an opportunity to tell him that he looked like shit-like 'death warmed over'. No, he couldn't see it in a mirror, but he did *see* it in Wesley's eyes, in the concern and recently-fear that lived there.

Angel was tired of trying to run from the dreams, because they'd started to haunt him during his waking hours too. If he surrendered to them during the day while he slept, then maybe they would leave him in peace during the night, let him live his life. A strange, twisted logic? He sighed and turned around to face his punishment. Logic had never been his strong suit.

One step. (It's only been three days, what's the longest anyone has gone without sleep- a week?)

Another step. (Wesley and Cordelia are downstairs; their bickering alone is enough to keep the dead from sleep)

Face your demons.

Easier said than done.

He skirted around the perimeter of the room eyeing the bars of light that lined up along the top of the comforter as the sun spilled through half closed blinds. Was it an offering of death, a final escape? He could lie down and end it once and for all, or he could lie down and have his soul eaten away one piece at a time. It was a difficult choice as he watched the swirls of dust skittering in patches of daylight, warring with the knot in the pit of his stomach. He'd hurt so many people, wouldn't they cheer at his cessation? Wouldn't a thousand souls sigh in release at the justice of his end? What right did he have to ask for divine grace, for forgiveness?

// You're not him, Angel, not anymore. You have to trust that whoever The Powers That Be - be, - are, - is.. anyway, - they know the difference."//

Couldn't the powers that be find another champion, another guilt-ridden brooder to carry the torch?

//It's not the kind of gig that people are lining up for.//

No, it wasn't. He reached over and closed the blinds, then walked towards the bed, kicking his shoes off on the way. His shirt followed and pants, until he was naked-the perfect sacrificial victim. Except this knife was dull and slow to cut. There was no clean death. Every night he arose to face it all again- Sisyphus reborn. Angel closed his eyes and prayed for dreamless sleep.

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

A one-word description would be confusion; a longer explanation would be an overload of sensations that defy description for several moments. The simple reality was whiteness everywhere, the dizzying glare of sunlight on snow and the blinding disorientation of a vast blue sky stretching limitlessly overhead.

"Where are you luv?" Angel's words came out as little clouds of moist vapor in the frigid air as he swiveled his head around, looking…

"Here," came Darla's voice to his left, sounding so close.

He turned and spotted her sitting in an open carriage, bundled against the winter's chill. Several strands of blonde curls peeked out from underneath her fur-lined cape. Having his attention, she waved and her face lit up in a radiant smile, causing his heart to thump in his chest as he caught his breath

// Stop breathing…I don't breathe…then stop flexing your manly boob muscles//

"I've been waiting for you," she accused lightly.

Why should her voice be so close when she sat at least 20 yards from him? He had to squint his eyes to see her clearly in the bright daylight, but her promising whisper was inches from his ear?

//logic never was my strong suit//

"It's so cold Angelus, come here and keep me warm." The familiar line of her pouting lips caused him to stir in arousal and he immediately came forward to do her bidding. 15 yards, 10- it had been an eternity since he'd held her his arms. The dry, half frozen snow crunched noisily beneath his heels and Angel found himself running eagerly to close the distance between them. Finally he reached the edge of the carriage.

Darla reached for his face, stroking the line of his jaw with a soft leather covered hand. "Help me down," she whispered with sad eyes.

Angel moved both hands down to hold her securely by the waist and swung her down from the carriage. The horses snorted nervously at the sudden flash of her skirts and pawed the ground, eventually settling down. He let her body slide against his until her feet touched the ground. Darla buried her face in his chest, inhaling his scent as her hood fell away.

Angel kissed the top of her head, wondering what had ever possessed him to leave her. He rested his chin against her hair and closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her against him and vowing never to let her go again.

"We can never be together," she murmured against his shirt.

"Oh, we can my love. We certainly can."

//Strange that his voice should still have the lilt of Ireland. He hadn't talked in that way for a very long time…//

"Darla pressed her face deeper into the front of his shirt. "No, they won't let us. They'll try to keep us apart."

//Silk-in the middle of winter…he was going to freeze to death…of course, he was already dead and the dropping temperature seemed to have no effect on him.//

A burst of cold hit him in the side of the head as a snowball of dry powder exploded against his skull. The small dust landed everywhere, in his hair, on his eyelashes, down his shirt, but none of it melted against his cold skin.

Angel turned to see where the missile had come from. "William," he called out, slightly annoyed when he saw the blonde off to his left, leaning down to scoop up another handful of snow in his fist, packing it into a tight ball.

"You shit, I'll kill you," Darla's voice screeched and it was filled with genuine malice. Angel glanced back to her and his brain tried to turn over some important piece of knowledge, some missing piece of a puzzle that was hidden, but still lurked underneath his consciousness-nudging him.

Another snowball came flying by his shoulder and splattered against the side of the carriage, just inches from Darla's head. Angel turned around to the other vampire with a warning grin on his face. "Have a care lad, I won't be savin' yer hide when she comes after 'ya."

"It won't be his hide you'll have to worry about," Darla said with vexation as she brushed the snow from her shoulder. "Be a good boy William, or I_ won't_let_you_come_next_time."

Spike stood up, packing another snowball very tightly. This one had bits of rock imbedded in the whiteness; it could be very lethal. He glared at her. "I'd like to see you try and stop me."

Angel ignored the obvious tension between the two. There was always tension swirling around them, which eventually lead to harsh words and threats and Angel having to step between them. He tried changing the subject. "Where's Dru?"

Spike shrugged. "She's around, but that's the least of your worries mate. You don't belong here, none of us do. You've got to make a choice."

"A choice? About what." Angel felt Darla's hand on his arm.

"About her…" Darla pointed to the ground in front of the horses. A form lay crumpled there, while the horses calmly nuzzled one another.

He walked towards it and saw that it was Cordelia.

//Funny, horses usually became very upset in the proximity of fresh corpses…he should know//

Angel bent down and could see that her throat was cut and her blood painted the snow with a large dark circle of crimson. "How did this happen?" He heard himself ask, but his voice seemed to come from someone else. He should be very upset that Cordy was dead, but all he felt was a strange sense of calm and apathy.

"She had to go," Darla said behind him.

"Had to go where?" Her blood was everywhere, spreading against the pure snow towards his boots, dripping down his arm from where he'd touched her. The smell of it roared in his head until it became a banshee's wail…taste it… taste it …taste it…taste it…taste it…taste it… taste…

"She had to go……."

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

"…Shopping"

"What?" Wesley's outraged voice rose in volume.

"There's a sale, 20 percent off. I need shoes. You'll just have to carry on without me…it's not like there's anything major happening, it's deader around here than…well, than him…" Cordelia emphasized her last words with a shrug towards Angel.

(Cordelia was alive?)

"So, that's okay, right boss man?" Cordelia prompted.

"Cordelia, you're alive?" Angel could only repeat the thought out loud, joy coursed through him, an emotion that had been absent when she was dead…when he'd seen her laying in the snow…when he'd been….dreaming?

"Have been for sometime." She turned her head to Wesley and mouthed 'What is his deal'.

Wesley stepped forward noiselessly and laid his hand on the vampire's shoulder. "Angel…"

That was as far as he got, Angel exploded out of the chair, twisting the human's arm behind him just short of the snap that would herald breaking bone. "Leave her alone William, why are you two always fighting!" this time he would teach Dru's childe to obey. He was tired of having to play mediator between them, tired of having to solve everyone's problems.

"Have you gone mental," Cordelia's voice screeched as she began slapping ineffectually at the vampire's shoulder. "Let him go Angel, let him go right now. And who is William, what in the hell are you talking about?"

He shook his head and realized that it was Wesley he held and not William. The fear radiating from these two sweetened the air around them. They thought he had snapped, that he was Angelus again. Sometimes he wondered if they were right, if he was slowly becoming…

//Taste them…taste them…taste them…taste them…taste them…//

No, he wouldn't. He released Wesley and grabbed Cordelia in a tight hug. The sound of her heart beating against his chest came in time to the mantra pounding in his head: you're Angel…you're Angel…you're Angel…he would not turn. He would never harm Cordy or Wes, he was sworn to protect them, to protect *everyone* he would never become Angelus-never again.

"Okay, a boundary has been crossed and you're starting to freak me out," Cordelia grunted as she pushed against her employer, unable to break out of his embrace. "If you don't cool it, I'm changing my scent to eau de garlic."

"Sorry Cordy," Angel apologized as he released her. "It's just that he wouldn't stop throwing the snowballs and she was getting mad… and then there was the blood… and the horses didn't even care… and you were…" he trailed off as he realized that he was making no sense to them, he was barely making sense to himself. Maybe it was better if he didn't try to explain it, he didn't really even know where to begin. "I was daydreaming, nodding off I guess?"

"You haven't been sleeping much lately have you? You've seemed…distracted." Wesley questioned thoughtfully, searching the vampire's eyes for any hidden signs of impending psychosis.

"I've been having dreams," Angel admitted quietly. "Usually when I'm asleep during the day, but they've started coming all the time now.

"What kind of dreams," Wesley prodded gently.

" About Darla."

"Darla, your sire Darla?" Wesley asked.

"And about Spike," the vampire confessed.

"Sounds like a nightmare to me," Cordelia sniffed.

Czech Republic 1918

================

Four of them stood outside of the monastery walls, wearing the robes that signified their calling. They stood clustered, talking worriedly as the final rays of the sun withdrew. I wasn’t close enough to hear more than a word or two rising on the thin, frigid air. Curious, I wove my way closer through the tangled draping of evergreens until I could hear their conversation.

“One of us must go and find her. She was ready to birth this morning, but she hasn’t returned. She won’t survive the night in this weather and neither will her kid.”

“Brother Yuri, take the light and find her. The sun has only just gone down. It’s not too late.”

A younger member of the order obeyed the command with a blanket tucked under his arm in silent acceptance.

I smiled and gave a last look at the rest of the group before I soundlessly followed, keeping him in sight with ease. We would take care of the rest…later, but I was determined to have something for my trouble. What was one monk? A flock had to expect to lose one of the herd occasionally. It was the natural order of things-right?

Darla had ordered me to survey this order: number of members, layout of the buildings and surrounding landscape, etc. She was exorcising demons…or the memory of a demon. This was the twentieth anniversary of Angelus’ turning and although we no longer spoke his name, I knew her increased viciousness at this time of year was entirely due to his loss. His absence had not only left a hole in Darla, it affected all of us.

I’d tried to convince Dru that she and I should leave, but she still clung to the hope that her Sire would return. She lived in her own fantasy world, but I’d stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago-I had to live in *this* world. And living in this world required obeying Darla’s orders, which I did most of the time, but I wasn’t above satisfying my own agenda when the situation presented itself and my agenda this time involved the blood of a holy man…and my gnawing stomach.

The monk was searching for a lost ewe. I had smelled her earlier (birthing is a messy business) and the blood had drawn my attention as I watched her from the shadows. My stomach protested in hunger, but I knew that better game would be available later, so I was content to watch in fascinated repulsion as the mewling newborn slid from her womb in a shiny sac.  Thank God I’d never practiced animal husbandry-how disgusting.I retraced my steps, picked up the small kid, now made respectable by it’s dam’s ministrations and went in search of the pious brother.

He was out of range for any struggle to be heard at the monastery. Lifting the lamb up caused it to bleat in fear and I could see the humans head swivel in our direction,his shoulders followed. I prepared my most innocent and concerned expression and stepped into his sight.

“Brother…I’ve found this lamb, its mother died giving birth. Do you know who owns it?”  Cradling it in my arms, I gently rubbed its coffee tinged wool.

“God is merciful,” he sighed in relief. “I’ve been searching for it and was afraid it had not survived the weather.”

His heart  pumped hard to warm his blood in the winter’s air and each beat caused a twinge of hunger that caused the ridges of my face to struggle to gain form. I managed to suppress them… barely.

I continued to stoke the animal, deliberately not answering him.

“Are you lost…” he asked, realizing that the monastery was isolated and the weather discouraged casual strolls through the woods. “…can I help you find someone?”

I was starving and I’d waited long enough. I put the lamb down and walked towards him as my features shifted. My work here was done, so I was eager to return to Dru. Now, It was time to feed.

He flinched at his first clear sight of me in the light, and his hand moved in an instinctual urge to cross himself, but he recovered quickly and said, “Oh, you must be a friend of brother Liam?”

I had no idea what the git was talking about and I didn’t really care. I grabbed him quickly and drained him, letting the body fall on the ground next to the bleating kid. I was still hungry and   wondered if the ‘good brothers’ would offer hospitality to a wandering stranger.  One more would fill my craving? Then I would get back and give my report.

```````````

To me, these walls were oppressive, stifling. I could never understand the fascination they held for Drusilla and Angelus. To me, the blood wasn’t any sweeter coming from a holy man or a nun…the same blood runs in all of them as far as I’m concerned.

Most of the good brothers were in bed at this time. I could hear their grunts and snores drifting through the quiet air. Occasionally I heard the muted drone of voices behind closed doors or the flutter of pages being turned.This place was full of dozens of souls that have given up their freedom to lock themselves safely from the world.

“Stop now, unless you have a death wish,” a voice warned behind me.

I did…raising my hand in apparent surrender and turned to face whichever monk had suddenly grown a pair. I would see how fast they fell off when confronted with a bloodthirsty demon like myself. “Easy now mate…we’re all friends here.”

Total surprise. “Will..Spike?”

(Well damn me) “Angelus, what the hell? Is that you, what in the hell are you doing here-in a monastery?”

He stepped closer and his posture relaxed. I felt my own body relax at the sight of my Sire. Every detail was exactly as I’d remembered, exactly as I pictured in my mind so often.

“I told you I was going to seek sanctuary in a monastery. Remember when you saw me in Prague? Angelus smiled slightly.

I blushed slightly, remembering how I’d missed him…how eager I’d been to kiss him, to taste him. All the time, Darla had been the most important thing on his mind-as always. The hunger at that time of being without him for two years seemed excruciating…it was nothing compared with the pain I felt now…. “I remember.”

“The real question is why are you *here*?” He pinned me with that look, the one that’s inscrutable, the one that could herald impending fury, or dissolve into laughter at any time-totally depending on his mood…and totally unpredictable.

“Darla sent me.”

“Darla, she knows I’m here?” Panic. Hope. Both lay openly across his face for several seconds before the wall of reserve covered it again.

No she doesn’t have a clue, none of us did. “Not bloody likely.”

“Then why are you here?” He asked in confusion.

“You don’t know? Tomorrow is the twentieth anniversary of your curse. Darla tries to exercise as many demons and souls as she can on this date every year.”

“She sent you out as a scouting party.”

I shrugged my shoulders. There’s no use denying it. He’s been behind that order before-hell, he wrote it. “Yeah.”

Angel stepped closer. “Everyone within these walls is under my protection, there will be no celebratory hunt or whatever it is you are planning. You’ll have to come through me first.”

To look at him all puffed up and protective cut me, because it’s all for strangers, for worthless humans. His fury used to be for his blood, for the children he sired, for his own sire. These cockroaches of God never shared all that I have with him, they never could. To see this kind of passion wasted on these souls who can never accept him, to whom his very existence is an abomination is too much

“Are they worth it,” I asked, curling my fist in an unconscious urge to hit him. “Have they taught you what it means to be good, have they showed you how to use that soul of yours, you fuck. All they’ve taught you is how to ignore your family, your blood… how to live in submission like a dog licking its master’s boot. “

“I’m learning,” he sneered.

“I bet you are.” The jealous thought occurs to me and I could barely see with the jealousy it shot through me. “Do you let them bugger you at night, I heard that kind of thing goes on here all the time…sort of a dirty little secret..”

“You’re leaving here now!” His voice lowered  in true anger.

I am. There’s nothing here for me. My Sire is dead. When I look beyond the familiar face, I barely recognize the creature that’s taken his place. Somehow though there’s still some tie, I can’t stop myself from asking, “Are you happy here?”

He doesn’t answer, but I can see that he isn’t. All the times I cursed him to hell and prayed for his death flash before me, but I didn’t wish this on him. It’s an ultimately cruel revenge.

Instead I mutter, “I’ll tell them there’s nothing here. We’ll spare your precious monks.

“Let’s go.”

What in the hell’s he talking about? “Lets go?”

“I don’t trust you. I’m coming along to make sure you do it.”

I’m not some schoolboy who needs checking up on. This whole soul thing had turned him into a self-righteous bastard. “I give you my word.”

“You’ll forgive me if that’s not enough.”

I felt my anger rising, a glimmer of black rage snaking through my veins and I hissed, “There was a time when my word meant everything, when it was all the proof you needed.”

“Things have changed,” he murmured uncomfortably, looking at the floor…the walls…before he met my eyes with a slightly sheepish glance. “These men welcomed me-a demon- into their sanctuary. They’ve taught me lessons of forgiveness and redemption I could never have learned anywhere else. They’ve allowed me to become something, someone who can make a difference in people’s lives…”

He stopped, probably noticing the shocked expression I had, hearing these words out of my Sire. Suddenly, I wanted him to come with me. Maybe if Darla saw what he’d become she’d give up and stop trying to wipe out the population of Europe. What I really hoped for is that Dru would realize that he’s never coming back to us and she’d agree to come away. We could get away from that bitch Darla once and for all.  Dru needed to see that her Daddy was dead, so she could accept me as her sole protector.

She needed to see that we’d become the thing he hated most in the world.

“Come on then, let’s go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where are they?”

“I dunno, we were supposed to meet here.” I looked around-no one was here. Where the fuck were they?

“If you’re lying to me Will…Spike, I swear…”

“I’m telling you, I was supposed to report back here. I don’t know what’s going on, unless Darla got tired of waiting and…”

“Oh God,” he whispered , then took off running.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I knew it wasn’t right when we got back to the monastery. It felt *wrong*, it was so silent. I could smell the leftover essence of blood and fear and the overwhelming cloud of death that settled into every corner. I could feel its effect on my Sire without even having to look over at him, but I did anyway and saw a sight I’d never seen before. His face was twisted in pain and his eyes burned with tears and devastation at the loss. He looked wild with grief and it was something I’d never seen before-it was frightening.

“Oh sorry, looks like they’ve already been here then?” I didn’t sense them, so they must have left already.

“You,” he ground out.

“Me what?”

“Was this part of your plan? Lure me away so you’d have a clear shot? I really did a good job of teaching you to be a bastard didn’t I?

“Now wait a minute, I never…”

I didn’t get to finish my sentence before he tackled me and began pounding my head against the ground.

[Thump.]

You…

[Thump.]

…Son….

[Thump.]

…OF …

[Thump.]

…A Bitch….

He kept pounding my head in rage like there was no tomorrow, and there wouldn’t have been if I hadn’t shoved him off of me. “What the fuck’s got into you?”

“Any ties we have are gone, Spike. You’re dead to me now and if I ever see your face again-I’ll stake you. Do you understand me?”

I could feel blood trickling down my upper lip. I wiped it away with the back of my hand. I’d seen Angelus mad before, but never like this…he’d never disowned me before fer Christ’s sake. Well, fuck him.

“Yeah, I hear ya.” I said standing up. “I hear you choosing these cockroaches over your own blood. Some savior you’ve been. This isn’t the last time you’ll betray them Peaches, everything you touch turns to shit. They should’ve turned you away-or staked you right there when you first came to their door.”

“Get the hell out!” He screamed, before he turned and began preparing the bodies of his monks for burial.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

================

Los Angeles 2000

================

“We need to find the key.”

What is that floppy haired lawyer blathering about now? He usually puts me to sleep when he starts talking: between his boring little speeches and smug posturing, it’s enough to make me heave. That plus the love sick looks he always sneaks at Darla when he thinks no one is looking. “What’s that then, you lost your keys?”

He smirks and turns his attention to me, speaking slowly like I’m a retarded child,” I’m talking about energy. Energy shaped into human form and sent as a key. Monks in the Czech Republic have guarded it for over a century. Strangely enough, most of their numbers were wiped out around 1918 or so. A few lived and recently activated it, but were killed.”

The older lawyer-Holland leans forward at his desk. “ There’s only one person who had access to those incantations and rituals left.”

“Another boring monk?” Darla yawns.

I shake my head. these Wolfram and Hart lawyers may be wankers, but they’ve got the market on plot twists. “It’s Angel isn’t it?”

Lindsey smiles at my correct answer. “And there’s only one person who will help the senior partners utilize the key-Angelus.”

(That's why they want him. Things could get very interesting around here.)
=======================================================================



The stupid ponce is strolling down the boulevard like some kind of goddam Hollywood movie star and I’m stalking him like some demented member of the paparazzi hoping to catch him picking his nose or something. ‘Follow Angel’ Holland said and I did because apparently I’m everybody’s bloody servant these days and don’t have anything better to do. So I’ve been elected for watchdog duty, which suits me fine because it means I don’t have to hang around in a room full of lawyers.


At least Angel’s alone, thank God. I don’t think I could eavesdrop through one more tirade from the prom Queen or have to witness that nancyboy ex watcher drooling all over him. They weren’t part of the deal and frankly, they’re starting to annoy the hell out of me. So, very happy he’s solo tonight. He stops and looks at a display in one of the shop windows, leaning close to the glass and tilting his head to the side as he studies the display.


I’m suddenly seized by the urge to know what the hell he’s looking at, so I weave my way through the shoppers and bar hoppers trying to get closer. I can see it’s a jewelry store. There’s a whole row of silver Celtic knot rings. I finger a circle of similar metal in my pocket: a ring Angelus gave me. It was the first present he’d ever given me, just something he’d picked up from one of his victims of the night. He’d given it to me and started kissing me and before I knew it, we were fucking on the stable floor of a deceased nobleman. A rock had dug into my back, but at the time I didn’t give a shit-I was happy and horny as hell.


I finger the rock now as it clinks against the ring in my pocket. Love’s bitch? Yeah.


As I’m standing there watching Angel, some drunken frat boy claps me on the back while whooping annoyingly in my ear.  He’s a goddam strong son of a bitch who catches me off guard, so I end up stumbling a few steps forward and running smack into a pair of broad Sire shoulders.

(Now I’m fucked!)


“Spike,” Angel questions in broody dreaminess, then his eyes harden and I can see in them a hundred dead monks. “What in the hell are you doing here?”


“I, um…err. I was just…”


Out of the corner of my eye I can see a blonde in a red slip dress, so does he. His head swivels as he follows her retreating form. “That was Darla.”


“Here? What would Darla be doing here?” I laugh nervously. Checking up on my ass is what. That bird’s got control issues and now that she has seen everything’s tits up, she’s gonna go spare. Absofuckinglutely perfect.


“That was Darla,” he says again, already turning around to follow her.


“Are you sure, this town’s full of blondes and…”


He turns around to glare at me accusingly. “Are you saying that I wouldn’t know her if I saw her?”

“Don’t get your nadgers caught in the wringer, I’m just saying she walked by pretty fast. You’d better be sure.”


“I will be.” He takes off after her and of course, I follow.


He never really is able to verify, because as he turns the corner, he’s met with a taser blast.


That’s gotta hurt; actually, it does- a hell of a lot.


I would know after all.

~~~~~~~~~~



“Spike, you stupid little shit. This is all your fault. We said follow him, not stalk him. Now you’ve ruined everything. You let him see you on purpose didn’t you?” That harpy’s screaming at me again. She’s been tearing me a new asshole for the last half an hour while Angel sleeps like a lump, tied to a couch in one of the Wolfram & Hart offices. He’s just now starting to rouse.


“Well, I guess we’ll just have to accelerate our timeline,” Lindsey observes.

“You are such a screw up.” Darla lowers her voice. Perhaps she’s realized she’s not projecting a positive team spirit?  She says the next sentence more to herself, kind of like a crazy bag lady. “We can still make this work. He just needs some…persuading. Angelus was stubborn, but even he had his limits.”



Angel looks up suddenly, testing whatever sense alerted him to the presence of his sire. He’s like a dog marking the scent it’s been trained to follow, bred for centuries to distinguish and chose above all others. His eyes are unfocused, but his head swivels around the room trying to get an idea of her location. “Darla?”


Darla glares at me triumphantly before she moves closer and straddles him, sitting on his lap and throwing her arms around his neck. “Never mind, I’m here now lover,” She breathes, kissing his eyelids. “We can be together now…finally.”


Angel buries his face in her neck and makes a small groan that rips my heart out before he leans his head back to assure himself it’s not another dream.” What’s going on…how are you…how can you be…”

Oh, it hurts to see him looking at her the way he is, with a mixture of disbelief and the hope that I saw so many times in the flickering firelight of his apartment in Prague. Times we lay naked and sweating, sprawled on a blanket before the fire, twined together after fucking. I traced patterns on his bare chest over the drying sheen of sweat that glistened there and prayed that the time would never end, but* he* always asked about Darla-how she was, what she was doing. He wanted to know every detail


I never told him about the hollow panic I saw in Darla’s eyes when She and Dru and I passed a familiar place that reminded her of his absence. I didn’t mention the time she found one of his shirts left behind and began weeping uncontrollably, how I hadn’t been able to stop her (I don’t think she even heard me), or how she held so tightly to the scrap of fabric that I hadn’t been able to pry it out of her hands. How she wandered listlessly around for several days still clutching it (even Dru had been worried). Darla or Dru never found out about my visits to him in Prague in those first few years after his turning.


When I had looked at the familiar form of my sire-naked and smelling of my scent, I felt so close to him, I couldn’t think of anything else. He filled me completely, every thought, every action was about him or for him. I knew he loved me, but not like he loved *her* I should have been mad, and I guess I was, but I never allowed it to surface. I just answered his questions, told him everything I knew, made up the rest based on what I thought he wanted to or needed to hear, kissed him and cursed myself for being so weak and not telling him to fuck off. Like I should have with Darla and Wolfram & Hart.


I was stupid to have helped these lawyers. All it’s done is reunite them. She’s still the most important thing to him, as always. I’ll be here to sweep up the mess they make as always. I’m relegated to second best, once again.


“Darla, you’re human,” Angel observes as he nuzzles her breasts.


“Not for long lover.” She reaches up and sweeps her hair out of the way, exposing her neck to him. “Change me so we can be together again-forever this time.”


The suggestion has startled him; he looks at her in confusion. “Turn you? You’re human. You’ve been given an incredible gift.”


“Gift,” she scoffs.” More like a curse.” She returns to kissing his eyes, his cheeks, his lips, (inwardly I cringe in jealousy).


“I can’t bite you Darla. I still have the soul,” he says returning her affections and trying to capture her lips with his.


She stops cold and slides off of his lap. “You could, if you wanted to.”


Angel shakes his head. “I can’t…I won’t… You’ll finally get your chance.”


“To die?”


“Yes, like you were meant to…like you should have the first time.”


“I was never cut out to be human. Won’t you do this for me?” She asks incredulously. “You won’t save me from a slow death and make me who I was meant to be? You said that you loved me once, but I guess that was a lie wasn’t it?”


“Darla, I can’t. You don’t understand. If I turn you, if I kill you, I could lose my soul.”


“And that would be so bad? The time we spent together was such a horrible experience for you that the memory of it keeps you cringing in the corner like a dog?”


He closed his eyes against her outburst. “No, please Darla. That was such a long time ago. We can’t ever have what we had…you know that. Everything has changed.”


“You mean you’ve changed. You’ve moved on to cheerleaders…to Buffy. Well what has that gotten you huh? You don’t even have her anymore, but you still love her memory more than you ever loved me. A year with her was so much more awe inspiring than the 150 years we spent together? You’ve moved on, isn’t that great.” She spat the last words in his face.


“It was over a century ago,” he protested, trying the ropes at his wrists.


“And you’ve got a whole new life here. Once again, playing the savior of all mankind. Well, you wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for me, I gave you the gift of immortality. I loved you and you abandoned me…I’m asking you to save me and you won’t. You’d help a dog in the street before you’d lift a finger for me wouldn’t you? I mean nothing to you, you walked away from me without a backward glance.”


He laughed bitterly. “*You* cut me off from everything. I was lost without you. You act as if I did it to you.”


“You were lost? It shows darling,” she snorted in disbelief. “ I slaughtered half of Europe for 50 years after you left. I couldn’t rest for decades because I was so overcome with grief. I tried to hold everything together that we’d built with only two children to help me. That’s what you did to me.”


(Hey bitch, who are you calling children?)


“You kicked *me* out, remember?”


Darla paced restlessly in front of him. “I kicked you out because I couldn’t bear to see you look at me with that soul. You began avoiding me. You couldn’t be in the same room with me. You hated everything I was, everything you had once been. How could I live with that? How could I lie underneath someone who was nearly crawling out of his skin with revulsion every time I touched him? I was a whore when I was human and I wasn’t about to go back to that just to keep a man around.”


“Not even for you Angelus,” she added sadly.


“It’s not too late Darla. You could start again.”


“Are you going to show me how Angel? You can pretend you’re human because you have a soul, but you’re not. You’re still looking at an eternity to walk this Earth, while every second I can feel this body dying. Don’t you think it’s a little hypocritical of you to lecture me on the divine joys of mortality?”


Angel just shook his head; he had nothing to counter her anger.

“How can I replace what we had? Do you want me to find some nice human boy and fall in love? How about him?” She nodded her head over her shoulder towards Lindsey. “Isn’t he a fine example of the human race you’re trying so hard to save?”


“Darla…” Angel began to speak.


She cut him off. “I wasn’t very good at being human, I was dying of syphilis. I don’t want to have to struggle and fight for everything like I did then. I like to just take what I need.”


“Darla, there was a time that I would have done everything…anything for you. But I can’t do this, I won’t become Angelus again.” His features settled into a very fitting mask of resolution.


The truth sunk in and her lips compressed into a tight line, but she didn’t argue further. She turned around abruptly and grabbed a fistful of Lindsey’s shirt. The lawyer made no effort to resist as she pulled him to stand next to her in front of Angel.


Darla stepped into Lindsey suddenly and began kissing him. He seemed stunned momentarily with arms raised helplessly at his sides, but quickly recovered enough to put his hands to the proper use. He reached down to Darla’s hips and thrust her against him with the urgency of a man trying to capture a dream that threatened to vanish.


She broke the contact of their lips and turned around. “I s this what you had in mind Angel?”



Lindsey stepped closer behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, obviously enjoying the shadow that passed over Angel’s eyes. He dipped his head and kissed the curve of her neck, the whole time retaining eye contact with the vampire tied in front of them. (The little pup doesn’t know what a bonfire he’s playing with).


But she did. Darla smiled at the intuitive action of the lawyer, bent her head to the side and reached up to cup the back of his skull. The encouragement spurred Lindsey, one of his hands slid across her stomach and up to her breast. With a few flicks of his thumb, her nipple was outlined underneath the thin fabric.  She giggled softly and began moving her hips back and forth in an undulating wave not more than six inches from Angel’s face.





Angel turned his head away from the spectacle in front of him; instead choosing to focus on the wall to his left-but his Sire was having none of that. She raised one foot and kicked him in the shoulder, fully trusting that the human behind her would keep her from losing her balance. The kick wasn’t hard enough to hurt her childe, but it got his attention.


“Don’t ignore me. I thought that was one of the first lessons I taught you.” She grabbed Lindsey by both wrists and guided his hands to the hem of her dress. With her hands over his, she helped him slide the material up her thighs. Lindsey didn’t need more than a few inches to realize what she was asking; he lifted the clingy garment and swept it over her head. She was wearing a tiny pair of silky panties and nothing else.


Angel shut his eyes and swallowed.


(I was thinking he’d had this lesson already.)


“Look at me,” she screamed.


He did, with a hint of pain before a shield of uncaring dropped down over his eyes.


Darla moved one of Lindsey’s hands down and he began rubbing the lips of her cunt through the fabric of her panties, tracing the indentation slowly as she moved her thighs apart slightly.


“I seem to remember that you like an audience.”


Lindsey’s hand went underneath her waistband and he began flicking her clitoris. I could smell the musky arousal from where I stood; it must have been unbearable for Angel. He showed no emotion on that stoic mug, although I don’t know how he possibly could have ignored it. He didn’t even blink when Lindsey inserted a finger in his sire and began fucking her with it.


The small moan she made as Lindsey moved his hand faster nearly made me blush, but I’ll give him credit, Angel didn’t make a sound. The grind of her hips against the lawyer brought the torment right into the poof’s face and he just watched, exactly as ordered. (It’s impossible to ignore your Sire’s order, even after so many years apart.)


She shuddered and the lawyer removed brought his hand, waving it in front of Angel. “Familiar?” Lindsey asked.


Angel raised his chin and glared at the lawyer, but remained silent.


“You always were stubborn,” Darla sighed. She ripped at the seams of her panties and the fragile garment tore easily. “Don’t you know you can’t win? I’ve been playing this game a lot longer than you have.”


“Don’t you ever get tired of it?” Angel asked softly.


She shoved her panties in his open mouth and leaned forward to hiss in his face. “But it always yields such excellent results.” Darla turned around and unzipped Lindsey before she sat down on Angel’s lap. ”Lindsey, I want you to fuck me.” She leaned back farther, bracing her back against Angel’s chest. “And I know you’ve always wanted to stick it to Angel, well here’s your chance.”


The pup looked like he was nearly ready to shit himself. He probably never thought he’d be this lucky , he dived right in.


With surprisingly few coordination mishaps, the lawyer soon found his rhythm. He was grunting away and her head flopped back on Angel’s shoulder with each thrust. Now that they couldn’t see his face, my Sire finally broke the mask of stoic indifference. I swear those were tears in his eyes. I know exactly what it’s like to have to watch your Sire fucking someone else.


~~~~~~~~~~


Why should I feel the need to feed him? Aren’t prisoners supposed to suffer? I must be going soft? I push a few buttons on the microwave and it hums into action.


“I should have expected you to be a part of this,” he says tightly.


I was going to give him the benefit of the doubt (I’m a little moody too when I’m tied up), but screw that. I take the pint of blood out without checking the temperature. I hope he burns his fucking tongue off. When I shove it under his nose, he turns his head away and I have to suppress the urge to cram it down his throat.


“Whose idea was this anyway?”  He asks.” Surely not yours, you never were smart enough to carry out detailed plans.”


Hmmnn, which do I prefer: the brutal Scourge of Europe who used me shamelessly and shagged me senseless; or this pompous stick up the ass dark avenger? Both have the ability to make me feel like shit, but at least with the latter, I was getting laid.


“No, I was kinda in favor of draggin’ you behind that car of yours at high noon until you cried like a little girl or burst into flame-whichever came first.”


Looking pointedly at me, he changes the subject, “So, is this a big family reunion -Where’s Dru?” Or did she dump you againn? You don’t have much luck with long-term relationships do you?


That does it. I throw the blood across the room and hear it splatter wetly against the opposite wall. “What the hell do you know-where the fuck is Slutty huh? Impaling herself on a six foot five inch piece of army cake-that’s where she is. She’s moaning and sweating under a new dick and you’re here-tied to a couch. Yeah, you’re one to talk aren’t you?”


“How do you know about…You just don’t get it do you? It’s not about her anymore.”


“Because you’re above all of that now?” I ask sarcastically.


He shrugs.


“Well maybe I need someone strong to guide me-like you.” I bat my eyelashes at him.


“I have complete faith that there’s no hope for you.”


“Oh, faith could heal me, faith in what? Are you gonna lay your hands on me and restore my soul?” (Can you say-God complex?) I outstretch both my arms to him. “Hey Jesus, why don’t you come over here and save me, huh?”


“It’s beyond anything you can understand Spike.”


“Oh, because I’m so STUPID? What are you working so hard for? Have you ever considered the possibility that that God doesn’t even like you, that he never wanted you or even gives a fuck about you? Souls and forgiveness and redemption-fuck all of that, we don’t need it.”


“Well, I can see you’ve transcended all of that by becoming Wolfram & Hart’s errand boy.”


“You don’t know shit about me or what I’ve been through. I’ve had my own goody good gig recently,” I brag.


“Reading for the blind?” He asks innocently.


“I’ve been helping the Slayer. The other day her sister…”

“Her what?”


“I helped Dawn take…”


“Who the hell is Dawn?” He’s genuinely puzzled.


“The. Slayer’s. Sister. Dawn. Honestly, are you scrambled in there?”


“Spike. Buffy doesn’t have a sister. She never did.”


“Sure she does,” I argue and indicate with my hand, “About yea tall, brown hair. Growing like a weed. What is she-fourteen now?”


“Spike. I don’t know what you’ve been snorting, but Buffy doesn’t have a sister,” Angel insists.


“Well who the hell is Dawn then?”



// energy shaped into human form and sent as a key.//


Oh my God.

I Never Learn pt 6

===============================

Oh, damn. I am not in the mood for another ass chewing by Darla. Is it my fault the big poof is so stubborn. I mean, one little soul. Who thought that would be so hard to break? But, we should’ve known that our boy Angelus could hold out against anything. After all, broody was the king of torture for 150 years or so. He always was a monument to stamina.

(Try not to roll your eyes when she gets over here, she always hated that.)

“Any progress,” she asks once she reaches me, nodding her head towards the door behind me.

I shrug. “Don’t know. I haven’t been in yet.”

Surprise shows clearly on her face. “Really, I thought you’d be in there fucking him twenty four hours a day. Him being a captive audience and all,” She adds the last with a sly smile.

(Bitch) Is she implying that I’d have to tie him up? There were plenty of times Angelus was all to happy fuck me, thank you very much.  And tying was purely optional; let me assure you. “I thought I’d have sex with a lawyer on him, but that seems so passé.”

Her eyes tighten. (Careful ducks, that face is human now. Wrinkles? Not attractive). She recovers quickly. “I was sure that would push him over the edge. He really used to get off on that.”

“Well you didn’t factor in the whole soul issue, that really…” I stop because I’m getting a funny feeling while I’m standing here looking at her. I may be insane, but… she’s…pregnant.  One of Lindsey’s boys made it through.

“That really what?” she asks.

I don’t know how I know that. I’ve never really thought about it, or rented myself out as a vampire early pregnancy test, but I guess heightened senses and all that. Aren’t pregnant women supposed to glow? Is she? I don’t know and I don’t particularly care.  But I think she may have found the one thing that can push Angel over the edge of that dark cliff.

BR> It’s too early for her to know yet, being human and I’m not about to tell her. I’m going to hold onto this card until I need it. “Um, that makes it harder is all.”

“Oh…profound Spike.” She rolls her eyes upwards and shakes her head in disgust. Thank God we’re relying on your dick and not your brains. Now get out of my way, I’m going to pay a little visit to our boy.” She waves me aside and unlocks the door.

Angel’s head is leaning over the back of the couch he’s tied to. He’s staring at the ceiling, but picks up when he hears us enter. “Charming. I’m so glad you could drop by. I’ve been hoping you could…” He stops as Darla steps in front of him. Head twists and his eyes roam every inch of her…searching.

He knows.

He looks at me questioningly and I give a slight negative shake of my head. She’s probably got the most powerful method of torture in her hands and she doesn’t even know it: A child from her womb, the mixture of Angel’s oldest love and his newest enemy brought forth as perfect innocence. That’s epic. Exactly the kind of convoluted symbolism he lives for. Then why aren’t I telling her about the baby? Why aren’t I giving Wolfram & Hart the weapon they need to accomplish their ends?

It’s because of the look in his eyes. Pain mingled with hope. Despair beaten into submission. The look of a man willing to do anything to possess what he’s sure he can’t have.  It’s like looking at my own face.

I swear I can see the wheel turning in that thick skull of his. His Sire. Here. Back from the dead… and human. Obviously raised by Wolfram & Hart to torture him and rouse Angelus from his sleep. Obviously meant to remind him of simpler times when souls and guilt didn’t make eternity so complicated, when a sweat filled tangle of limbs were merely a pleasant diversion and not the first step down the road to apocalypse.

The door opens again behind us and Lindsey enters the office. I get my own shock as I notice that Drusilla hovers behind him, and then glides around his back until she’s in full view. Nobody said anything about Drusilla, what the hell is he trying to pull? She doesn’t say a word, just looks solemnly at her sire bound before her. Her eyes pass over me, and then return for a second, surprised look before moving on to greet her grandsire.

She reaches for Darla who looks as confused at the unexpected arrival as I feel. So no one told her either? As Dru folds Darla into her embrace, I know instinctively what’s going to happen in the next few moments. Darla struggles half heartedly, but quiets as Drusilla draws her gaze and brushes her hair back over her shoulders. Tenderly, delicately, Dru leans over and presses her lips reverently against the warm flesh housing the one who birthed her into the order of Aurelius.

A gasp. An intake of breath as the sharp bite registers with the most primitive part of the human’s brain, mingling with the muted sighs of reunion and adoration. Teeth pull away, leaving a smear of red against the arching column of her throat.

Diminished consciousness doesn’t matter as a firm hand supports the back of Darla’s neck, wrist lost in a sheet of pale gold hair. White tipped ovals of black open a line just beneath the pale flesh of a collarbone. Guiding, positioning a fledgling to the honey of immortality that was once *her* gift, now returned full circle.

I take a step forward…in protest…to make some symbolic statement of ethics…to touch Drusilla? The lawyer blocks me. I shove him back to break our contact, and the pain sends me to my knees.

“We’re on a schedule here.” He says dryly.

I stand up slowly, but don’t make another attempt to get closer to Dru. I do hear Angel next to me, straining to rise from the couch (hard to do without the leverage of being able to use your arms.) He manages to stand, lowers his shoulder and plows into Lindsey, who lands on his ass and quickly back pedals as Angel scrambles towards him on his knees.

The movement of Drusilla carefully laying Darla’s body on the carpet stops her sire and he stares horrified at her, eyes wild and rolled back, exposing the whites. Dru smiles at him, twirls a blonde lock around her finger and spreads it over Darla’s breast in a whimsical flowing line.

“You’ve killed her…” Angel can’t seem to finish the words.

I know he means more than that though. Her body is dead and so is the child she carried. Angel couldn’t save either of them. Maybe he’ll have to turn in his superhero card.

“Is he evil now?” Lindsey asks curiously, standing and brushing himself off.

“No,” Dru warns. “Daddy’s not home, it’s only the Angel beast.” She glares at me. “You can’t push *it* away either, painting yourself in ashes. He precedes you and covers you in light. And you bleat in acceptance.” She dismisses me with a disdainful sniff.

“Get him back on the couch then,” Lindsey orders me. (The little prick. I’m not his fetch and carry boy.) He asks Dru, “Should we move her somewhere…more comfortable?”

Dru touches Darla’s cheek. “No, the red in the South guides her to return.

With a confused look, Lindsey helps Dru to her feet, “Okay. We’ve got a lot to prepare for then.” And guides her out the door. I hear the click as they lock us in.

“Angel?”

His silence is alarming, more so because he starts rocking back and forth like some autistic child. A hand to his shoulder does nothing to quell the determined rhythm. Again, louder this time, “Angel!”

Finally, “He killed her…and the baby.”

Well, technically Dru did, but I’m not one to quibble. “Yeah, he did.”

A bitter, downward slash of his mouth. “Wolfram & Hart think that I’m some faceless cog they can manipulate into doing God knows what. I’m tired of them fucking with me.”

There’s the return of that poncy indignation. He should let it out. He’ll feel better. Or at least I’ll feel better not to have to witness his total breakdown.

“Help me? Untie me,” he says looking at Darla’s corpse.

“No way. They’re paying me good money. Plus, they say they’ll take…”

“Your chip out? They’re lying. That’s all they know how to do…lie and destroy without any thought how it will impact anyone. They have no intention of taking the chip out. They probably couldn’t anyway, not without giving you brain damage.”

“Oh, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

He walks on his knees to me and as he looks up, déjà vu bites me on the ass. I remind myself not to listen to anything he’s about to say. “Work with me…* I’ll* pay you.”

(This can’t be good.)

“ Doesn’t Lindsey piss you off?”

(He really does.)

“You and Darla never played well together.”

(No, I’ve had about all of that bitch I can take)

. Angel gets to his feet and I stifle the urge to help him stand. “I don’t know what went down with Dru and you, but you two obviously aren’t getting back together anytime soon. I know you don’t want to see Lindsey start sniffing around her too. Tell me you want to live another day with Wolfram & Hart controlling your every step.”

He’s right. I can’t take another example of Dru’s hatred for me and the thought of having to watch a performance like Darla’s, with princess as the star is more than I can take. It sounds so reasonable and makes it hard to remember that this is Angel, soul boy and not Angelus.

Before I know it, his lips are next to my ear, “We used to be so good together…remember.”

Unfair. I feel that familiar turning in my stomach.  Are we sure he’s not evil, because I can’t imagine Angel using such an Angelus method of persuasion. I can’t think rationally when he’s so close to me. I need to take a step back, to clear my head, but my legs don’t want to cooperate. Is this a chance to be allied with him against Darla, the opportunity to be at his side, chosen over her? My brain offers resistance, but as he rests his forehead against my cheek, it’s hard to define any coherent argument in opposition I can’t even reach that place that thinks he’s a prick and hates him for all the shit he’s done to me. We… Used… To… Be… So… Good… Together... rains down and smothers any resentment I still harbor for him abandoning me. I’m sure I’ll rediscover it later, but now…

His head turns and our mouths meet. He whispers under his breath, but all I can make out is” please” before his tongue slides past my lips. I reach out to brace myself against his chest as the moist heat of our tongues travels all the way down to the mindless thrusting against him I can’t seem to control. Funny I should look to him for stability when he’s the one still tied.

“Untie me,” he reminds, dragging his lips away.

I struggle to reach the knife in my front pocket, disappointed when it means I have to move away from him. But only a slight shift as I retrieve it, press back against him and flick the blade open. My other hand reaches around his hip to feel for the rope and I begin sawing away.

Not a good idea to cut blindly, especially when you’re molded against everything you’ve desired for the last century or more. The evidence of that truth is obvious in the blood dripping from his wrist when his hands come around to cup my face. I turn my chin slightly and flick my tongue out to taste him and he licks his own blood from my tongue. The knife drops from my fingers.

“So good together,” he repeats, backing me towards the couch and lifting the shirt over my head.

I know this isn’t a good idea. Every time I think I’m going to have him all to myself, he turns his back on me. It starts out like this…with hot sex and his promises that this time is different, that this time it’s just ‘us’ that this time I’ll be the favored childe and everyone else will just fall away. That’s a fantasy that never seems too far away at times like this, but experience has been a bitch of a teacher. It can’t last. How long will this go on before someone else usurps my position?

Hands sliding down the sides of my neck, down my chest, unbuckling my belt. I don’t want to think of how stupid I am right now. I don’t want to contemplate how many times I’ll go back to him because I never learn, because I crave his touch more than any shred of my dignity. Maybe I *was* born to be his little fuck toy.

I especially don’t want to stop him as he seals our alliance by sinking to his knees in front of me and taking me into his mouth. Three seconds of heaven before he leans back and looks up at me. “Are you with me? If not, I can’t guarantee you’ll make it out of this war. I’ll stake you if you get in my way.”

Linking words to form sentences is not my strong suit at the moment. ”With you, with you,” I mutter, praying he’ll continue and not revert to frustrating caped crusader. Not now!

My knees buckle as I immediately cum. (my cock is all too happy to be in its favorite place.) Angel chuckles in his throat and shoves me back on the couch. “It’s been a long time Will, my old boy,” he says as he jerks my jeans off and tosses them to the side. Hands at my knees push up and to the side until I’m stretched wide for him and he settles himself between my legs until we fit as perfectly as always.

I feel coolness sliding down the crack of my ass and my imagination supplies a mixture of cum, saliva and the blood from my knife cuts before going into total shut down. All I can register is the weight of his massive chest pinning me down, the grind of his pelvis as he starts pumping slowly and deliberately, my legs wrapping around him as I surrender all my self esteem to him.

He licks the sweat from the hollow of my throat. Shuddering exhale. “You’ll see, William. We’ll show these Wolfram & Hart fuckers… we’ll show Lindsey…what fun it is to have all your plans blow up in your face. We’re going to Sunnydale to stop an apocalypse.”

Sunnydale…Hawaii…Hell…I don’t care.

He rises a little and manages to get his hand between us enough to grasp my cock and squeeze it experimentally. “I’ve been having dreams about you lately,” A confession with that wickedly sly little grin he has.

Really? Imagine that? (I feel my eyes roll back into my head.) My hands are everywhere--grasping at his hair, his shoulders, his hips, anything to pull him closer into me. I've needed him so badly, I'm beyond caring.

This is going to end so badly, I can feel it already.

It was the sharp gasp for breath behind us that startled us both, stripping the luxury of fantasy away and revealing the reality that could not be ignored. A perfect moment I’ve waited more than a century for, broken in an instant, destroyed by *her* again. She always comes between us and always will, I’ll never catch a fucking break.

I can torture him, love him, and fuck him. I can make him miserable or happy—I don’t care which. Whatever karma his psyche’s trying to play out, I can work with that. I can be flexible. But no matter how hard I try it seems as is she’ll always be standing there between us. Darla was first and will always remain first, no matter how much he tries to deny it.

She sits bolt upright, her eyes wild and unseeing as she gropes blindly in the air in front of her. She’s panicked and unable to focus on anything. I remember what it’s like to first wake up from death. Confused. Painful. Desperate to seize onto anything that makes sense, anything that will tell you who you are…what you’ve become. She’s been there before, but I imagine it’s still disorienting.

Angel drags himself off of me and reaches methodically for a small table near the end of the couch we lie on. He smashes it to pieces until not much more than broken splinters litter the floor, all except one of the former legs. *That* he carries locked in a dead grip as he approaches his Sire in her newly awakened bewilderment. Super hero guy wins out over lovesick ex boyfriend? He seems all business, but I can’t believe he’s got the stomach for it. He’s still tangled in the memory of a human Darla…pregnant and ripe with the challenge of saving.

Darla senses him approach and slaps wildly, ineffectually at the air. She’s not able to make concrete sense of her environment, but she can sense danger. Like any animal, she lashes out in a desperate attempt to save herself.

Angel easily catches her hands in one of his. Pushing in to her, he lays her back on the floor while she still growls and writhes in terror. A low moan escapes her, ending in hiss as she is finally able to focus on his face. She must be able to recognize him by now, to know that her Angelus is about to kill her again. He raises his free hand and aims the stake. Maybe things are starting to look up. I feel a little spark of hope that he’ll finally choose me.

I can’t believe he’ll have the bollocks to do it though. Oh, I know he did it once already, but I don’t think he ever forgotten it or forgiven himself for it. Now after having faced the possibility that he could save her, liberate her from the blood of the clan of Aurelius and failed, he’s tied to her even more. And left with only one option.

He hesitates and I know that’s what he’s thinking-- You’ve failed this one too.

She’s gained her bearings enough to use logic to save her hide. She always had a twisted, but highly refined instinct for survival. Darla looks up at him and says in husky wonderment,” Angel?”

He won’t be able to do it. His arm lowers and that caveman brow wrinkles in indecision.

Not bloody likely. She’s not coming between us again. I’ll kill the bitch myself. I settle on my knees next to him and shove a little at his shoulder as my hand covers his and I fight for control of the stake. “Here mate, let me give you a hand. You’ll never forgive yourself if you unleash another *evil vampire* on the world.”

“I can do it,” he says uncertainly as he looks down on her.

Sure he can. Right after the two of them send me off to bed with a pat on the head as I hug my little stuffed plush toy. In other words: how often does hell freeze over? I’m not about to be dismissed again.

“You’ll just make it harder on yourself the longer you wait.” I reason with that thick Irish skull of his.

“I never wanted to have to do this again,” he whispers with haunted eyes. “But you’re right.” He raises the stick again.

Bet yer ass I’m right.

“Ahhhh!” A loud, protesting wail covers the clicking of the door as the lock twists open. Drusilla races into the room as soon as the door opens inward. Something must have told her we were about to dust her newest fledgling. (Whispered snippets of prose from the moonlight?)

She’s furious. “Don’t you dare hurt Grandmum. You both are hateful, hateful beasts.” She throws herself at us, grabbing for the stake and we both go over backwards as she lands on top of us because we weren’t expecting it, plus the fact that she’s really fucking strong. A mother protecting her cub.

McDonald goes straight for Darla and she’s recovered her senses enough to seek those warm, human arms…recovered enough to puncture the skin of his neck with her sharp little teeth and drink greedily.

Somehow I’ve ended up the winner in the stake tug of war and Dru’s sitting on top of me, beating the holy shit out of me. Angel manages to escape her continued fury just in time to see Darla draining the lawyer.

“Stop.”

Dru and I stop wrestling instinctively at our Sire’s command, just in time to witness the scene. “Aren’t you going to stop her?’ I ask when I realize he’s not moving. I don’t give a flying fuck about Lindsey, but isn’t that Angel’s mission statement—help the hopeless.

Darla looks up, sneering as the blood drips down her chin. “Stop? Why? Because you’ve already staked your claim on this one?” She gazes down, appraising her victim. “There’s still plenty left. We’ll share.” She says the last as she shoves Lindsey at Angel. “You know you want to.”

He catches the human with a wet splatter and I see the blood staining the front of Angel’s shirt, his arms, his hands…so much blood. He doesn’t make eye contact with anyone else in the room, just carefully pushes the hair out of the lawyer’s eyes tenderly. I can see the blood he’s left in the man’s hair.

//You know you want to.//

Mc Donald represents about 75 percent of the shit that’s been flowing into Angel’s life in the past few months. If it were me (without the chip) I’d break his sodding neck, have a beer and congratulate myself on a job well done.

But Angel…he’ll try to justify how this one never got a chance, how he’s merely a pawn in a larger game. Well, that’s what pawns are for…if you capture enough, you’re the winner. At least that’s how I see it.

That’s why Angel will always be just honorable mention in the war with Wolfram & Hart. Angelus would’ve had them shittin’ their pants by now, but Angel is too guilty…too moral…too ethical. He holds an enemy in his hands and can’t find the strength to crush him. He gathers the lawyer closer in his arms, lowering his forehead until it rests against Lindsey’s face. Comforting the dying?

Uh, no. I’d recognize those brow ridges anywhere. His brown eyes dissolve into a predatory yellow as the iris’ elongate into slits.

That fucker’s just gone into game face. What the hell is he doing?

Angel’s tongue extends and he laps the blood from Lindsey’s face and neck. I can barely believe my eyes as his hand unbuttons Mcdonald’s shirt, sliding the edges apart to expose more of that smooth skin and fits his teeth into the puncture wounds that Darla has left.

Uh, hello! The poof’s drinking from a human?

Darla mirrors my confusion. “Angel…Angelus…?”

He lets the body slide to the floor and reaches his hand out to Darla. “Come here love.” There’s that seductive grin that should be for me.

“Angelus,” she decides and rushes to him with a delighted squeal.

He meets her, but instead of taking her in his arms, he throws her violently against the drawn blinds of the huge picture window. The force sends Darla smashing through the glass and glittering shards rain down over all of us as she disappears from sight. The blinds swing crazily, the only motion remaining.

I would sit and gape in astonishment, but sunlight streams across the carpet and I roll quickly out of the way as the heat sears my skin, raising blisters against a field of reddened flesh. Dru is shrieking as she scrambles on her hands and knees to the safety of the room’s shadows.

Angel meets her at the edge of the shade and helps her to her feet. “I’m sorry Princess.” He kisses her and smoothes her hair delicately before shoving her forward into the light. She explodes after giving him a heartbreaking look of betrayal and disbelief. “I meant it to be quicker for you.”

Oh, this isn’t looking good. I back away on my elbows. No hope that he’ll forget about me. “Angelus, mate. Let’s not do anything rash.”

He stops and tilts his head to the side, studying me. “Well Spike, it looks like you’ve made it this far.”

“How much farther am I going to make it?” I ask suspiciously, standing up, but keeping a wary distance between my apparently homicidal Sire.

“I’m thinking of a number between 1 and 10…”

“Angelus?” It’s hard to tell. It doesn’t *feel* like my old Sire, but it’s not exactly Broody the Do Gooder either. I wish I knew the one question that could answer it definitively: How are you feeling, how’s that whole soul thing going for you, are you going to fry me too? It seems smarter to shut up and see what he’s going to do now.

He’s coming towards me and there’s really nowhere I can go. I don’t think I can make it to the door and the only other pocket of shadow lies behind him, in the corner off to the side of the window. I’ll have to stand and fight.

I don’t have any real hope of beating him, not one on one like this. Liam was a big, beefy hunk of meat when Darla turned him. Angelus has always been taller, stronger and more vicious than I ever was. I can try to do as much damage as I can, but I know I’ll never walk out of here if he’s decided I won’t.

Shit! “Well, come on then you motherfucker. You’ll have a little more of a fight on your hands than those two little girls.”

He’s only a couple of feet from me, skirting the patches of sunlight spilling over the carpet and slowly, deliberately backing me into the corner of my last stand.

“Are you afraid William? It’s been a long time since we’ve danced this dance and you’ve caused a lot of trouble since I left you. You’ve taken a lot from me: Drusilla…”

He brings his hand up to my face and I can’t help but rest my cheek in the palm of his hand and close my eyes. “Drusilla never loved me like she loved you.” It’s a confession thought of, but never voiced, the truth in my soul finally acknowledged aloud.

“No?” His hand slides down, stretching to span the diameter of my throat, his thumb rubbing an invisible mark against my skin.

Strangle me?

Rip my head off?

It’s a little inefficient if you ask me, but it’s probably more of a build up. He’s weaving that anticipation of what’s to come, fully aware that the uncertainty is what makes it harder. Of course he knows that, he used to force me to my knees to beg his mercy before he inherited the soul. Are we about to return to the old days?

I'll admit, I’m touched that he’s saved me for last. Have I been promoted in the pecking order? I must have missed the memo.

His other hand rests on the small of my back, and then tracks the line of my spinal column until it ends up clutching a handful of hair at the back of my head. He gives a small warning shake. “The monks…”

Does he want a better grip so he can shove my head into the sunlight of spontaneous combustion? Oh man, how did that whole begging for mercy thing go again? “Angel…” (another shake) “..Angelus…” (shake) “I didn’t kill the monks. I didn’t know they were yours…I didn’t know she would…”

“It doesn’t matter. I know you weren’t responsible. You were only a tool.”

“An innocent tool,” I clarify.

He blinks and shakes his head. I’ve got an appointment in Sunnydale. With a key.”

You’ve got to love a man with a mission. “Are you going to stop an apocalypse, or start one?” I ask nervously, but quietly rejoice that my imminent immolation seems to be delayed for now.

He leans in and grazes my lips with his. “Don’t know yet.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I Never Learn pt 8

===============================

We came to the hotel to get his car.

We found a little more than we were looking for.

"Angel," a British voice declares in stunned delight as we cross the lobby. At well after midnight, I would've expected the grindstone to be retired for the evening. Leave it to Angel to hook up with losers even more pathetic and socially inept than he is.

"Where have you been for the last two days Mr?" A screeching harpy's call drowns out the last of the fellow's sentence and I flinch instinctively before I remember that Darla's dust(witnessed by my very own eyes).

Cordelia Chase comes sweeping out from behind the desk and advances on us with a single-minded determination that would have made Angelus proud. She stops about three feet in front of us and opens her mouth to continue her tirade when she notices me behind her employer. She does a double take and points at me in horror. "Oh my God. What is *he* doing here?"

"We're here to pick up my car," Angel answers her in 'the voice of indecipherable broodiness.'

Her eyes widen even more in disbelief as she answers, "*We*, meaning the two of you-together? In some sort of demented, cooperative team spirit?"

You know, I've always thought Cordelia Chase was a damn fine looking bird. I like what she's done to her hair. It makes her look more mature. Angel the impotent would never appreciate her, or even make a move. He'd just condemn her to spinsterhood as she wastes her looks fighting the good fight. Now, I would've.

Well, not now. She's frowning at me and it's giving her these little wrinkles at the corners of her mouth and a gathering of lines around the eyes. Not so much to worry about at twenty, but one day, you wake up, you're forty and you realize it's all downhill. No choice but to go under the knife.

"Are you out of your mind? He's a deranged, killer, vampire..." She swings her frown of displeasure Angel's way. " .no offense."

The other one comes from behind the desk, approaching cautiously. I see he's holding a wooden cross in front of him. "We've been looking all over for you. You just.disappeared." He swings the crucifix in my direction as he throws a concerned expression Angel's way. He really has soft eyes and.Hey, is he mooning over my Sire?

Because I really won't stand for that.

The front door opens and a tall black man enters. When he sees Angel, a broad grin breaks out on his face. "Hey dog, haven't seen you for a couple days. Vampire field trip?" He looks in confusion at Angel's little flunky doing his Van Helsing jr. routine, then notices me and nods. "You from the pale, bloodsucking camp?"

"Be careful Gunn. He's a dangerous and unpredictable vampire. He used to be an associate of Angel.Angelus."

"Ya, well then those two Popsicle sticks you got are really gonna scare him Wesley." Gunn reaches into his vest pocket and brings out a pointy stick as he moves to stand beside Cordelia protectively.

"Have we been sucked into an alternative universe where Ice T's a vampire slayer?" I turn to my Sire. "What the hell is this then?"

Cordelia, L.A.'s answer to Nancy Drew, glares at me. "Okay, *you* don't get to ask the questions around here, comprende! Remaining original member of Angel Investigations here. I'll be asking the questions- What. The. Hell. Is. This?"

"Everything is such a big production," Angel sighs in annoyance. Wolfram & Hart brought Darla back as human and Drusilla here to turn her. They want to wake Angelus up. That's where I've been for the last two days, they've had me tied up in an office."

Wesley lowers his cross and asks earnestly, "What are we going to do?"

"Nothing. They're dead now.and so's Lindsey."

Cordelia gasps audibly. "They killed him?"

I clap Angel on the back heartily. "No. Our boy Angelus did, sucked him dry. Just like the good old days." I love it when three pairs of eyes widen and jaws are dropping all around the room, kind of like if your pit bull went all mental and started attacking everyone.

I can tell Wesley's in shock. He stands there gaping for a minute like a fish out of water. He's mentally trying to justify what he's just heard. "What? Did he attack you?"

"No," Angel answers." Darla bit him. There was so much blood.and I couldn't think.it was strange."

I can see that memory flowing over Angel, shadowing his eyes momentarily and then nothing.total detachment. The others see it too.

Wesley definitely looks worried now. "Angel.you've killed a man."

"I killed a lawyer from Wolfram & Hart," he corrects." Just doing my part to clean up this town.

There's a moment of strained silence , punctuated by an exchange of looks between his three employees. It's Cordelia who speaks first, "And that doesn't bother you?"

"He asked for it. He brought Dru into it, wanted Darla turned. He wanted to play with my dark side.and he got his wish."

"Are you going to kill *everyone* at Wolfram & Hart? The receptionist.the janitor? Are you going to decide who's evil enough to exterminate and who isn't?" Cordelia asks bitterly.

"Why not?"

Another man's betrayed her, failed to retain their hero status in her eyes: first Xander, then her father, now Angel.

I could've told her that. Heroes seem larger than life, but they always fall.

Angel doesn't even offer an answer to her, but starts walking again.

Wesley steps towards him, causing Angel to halt. "We've all been worried about you. This business has taken you down a twisted path. Granted Wolfram & Hart have been manipulating you, but we fear that we are the only thing standing between you and Angelus."

"Yes you are.and you're all fired." Angel doesn't even look back as he walks away.

~~~~~~~~~
Sunnydale
~~~~~~~~~

He hasn't said a word on the drive here and neither have I. I keep looking at him out of the corner of my eye, trying to get some sense of who this is. Alone in a darkened car, with images of him killing his Sire and mine, I think this may be the old Angelus I once knew. Wouldn't Angelus just have killed team codependency back there though?

"So, what's this key do then?"

He doesn't take his eyes off the road. "It opens a portal for the senior partners."

"Oh, haven't we done this one before? Someone opens their mouth and the world's sucked into hell? Weren't *you* the key last time? You're not planning on getting run through with a sword again are you?"

He takes his attention off of the road to glare at me and I instinctively back away, wondering if he's going to dust me. Although I suppose not, since it's night and it would be kind of hard to stake me with one hand on the wheel. But still, caution is good.

"Poor Spike. Always the bridesmaid.never the key."

Oh, the happy feelings just keep flowing don't they? I wanted him to choose me over Darla? Was I insane?

"No, I leave all the raving over Armageddon to you drama *queens*"

He laughs as he pulls into a parking spot outside of Giles' magic shop. I flinch when he leans over and nuzzles my cheek. He rests his hand on my chest, pushing me back against the seat until I can't move. With him this close, I don't think I want to.

"I think I'm going to be glad I dragged you along Spike, my boy. Your bitching was always so amusing." He whispers in my ear, and then he's back on his side of the car.

"Mine is to serve," I mutter sulkily. "Why the hell are we going here anyway?"

"We're going to pay a visit to an old friend," he says, opening the door. "I seem to have fewer and fewer of those everyday. Get out of the car if you don't want to join those ranks."

I bite back the urge to say 'you're not the boss of me', because I don't want him to prove that he is, right here in the parking lot. Instead, I ask, "What happens to Dawn. The senior partners use her to open up the portal and then what? She disintegrates? Goes poof? Gets a nice severance package and retires to Hawaii?"

He shrugs. "Unless someone sacrifices her and sends her to the senior partner's dimension. They can't use the key if it's stuck in their realm with them."

"Great, so it's guaranteed that this little excursion involves going through one incredibly brassed off slayer?"

"Like a freight train, baby." He points his finger at me. "You'd better back me up, whatever happens."

I sigh. "Just tell me what to do."

Entering the shop, it seems as if the party's already started. Giles, the witches, Xander and that ex-demon girlfriend of his.they're all staring down some blonde bint in a red dress who is twisting Dawn's arm into an angle that must be near to breaking. Of course the Slayer is in fighting stance, ready to attack.

Our entrance distracts Buffy and everyone else in the room.

"Angel?" Buffy breathes hopefully.

Giles trains his crossbow on us. "Wesley called me. I warn you now that I won't hesitate to use this."

"Your magnificent Glorificus. He is the one who can activate the key," some bumpy demon minion I hadn't noticed before says.

"I don't need the closed captioning." She swings Dawn around, provoking a small groan of fear from the girl, and takes a step towards us. "Now I don't have to track you down. Get over here and activate this key. I don't have time. Thismortalfleshsuitismakingmecrazy."

"Stay with me Spike," Angel calls softly over his shoulder to me. I'm the only one close enough to hear him, and I do as he walks towards.whoever the hell she is.

From this point on, things get a little fuzzy. Angel shakes himself and I see Dawn's eyes go wide with fear, so I assume he's gone into game face. The insane blonde smiles delightedly, no doubt anticipating whatever is about to happen and relinquishes her grip on the Slayer's sister.Angel grabs Dawn by the back of the neck, pivots and shoves her into me, then launches himself at Glory.

As the Nibblet slams into me, I see Glory twisting Angel's neck and then a flash of blinding blue light explodes in my brain and I feel Dawn and I falling to the ground. And that's all I know.

~~~

*Three brown robes. Shaking hands. Fear and dread as the devil 's knocking at the door. Concentrate. Close your eyes. Cloth bundle. Shaking hands. Unwrapping bones.

//Can't you read.Wolfram & Hart est. 1850.they're solicitors.Dru, we don't need.but Angel, they're different, they raise demons.demons, this I've got to see.//

*Herbs on the floor.

//Office. signs of a struggle. broken furniture. ..scattered papers. the smell of burning flesh and sulfur. nearly bloodless bodies of two men. Dru, you ate Mr Wolf & Mr Hart.(giggles).no silly, Wolfram & Hart.the rustling of leathery wings in the corner.What the hell is that.Dru, honey, we have to get the hell out of here.now . Dru screeching as Angelus pulls her from the office.//

*A pile of old bones.

//What catastrophy came crashing down and brought this dashing stranger to tears. Do you want it.ow.ow...ow//

*Bones mixed with dirt, lying among scattered herbs on the floor.*

//.take unto you my blood.the Clan of Aurelius and all the life I have consumed since I've walked the night.all of these combine and reside in you.//

*Whispered prayers and incantations.desperation over a pile of bones*

//You carry the blood of the Clan of Aurelius//

*Made it human*

//Wolfram & Hart est 1850.they're solicitors.they raise demons.Drusilla, you've eaten them.what the hell is that.Dru, honey.the hell out of here.//

*made it flesh*

//all the life I have consumed since I've walked the night.all of these combine and reside in you//

"Banished to the pit and bound there by your own blood."

//All the life I have consumed, combine and reside in you//

When Dawn touched me, the vibration felt as if it would rattle all of my teeth right out of my head. The first thought that occurred to me, was that the floor was very hard against my face.The second thought was that Angel was dead. I moaned and rolled onto my side. The movement made my stomach queasy and I felt the bile rising.pouring out of me.

Angel was dead.

I dragged myself painfully up on my elbows. That's when I felt a hand under my arm.helping me. I allowed my rescuer to pull me up.

//"I know that he used to come to you, after we'd made love.he said he wanted to make you into a powerful vampire.his true son and lover. He told me he wished that he'd sired you."//

I gaze dully at my rescuer, not relishing having to look at one of the scoobies just now. My knees nearly buckle at the sight of Angel. I wrap my arms around his neck and squeeze him tightly, lean back, then hug him again.

"You're not dead?" I can't believe it. I saw that bitch twisting his head off.

"Actually I kind of am.we both are."

"What are you talking about? Where is everyone, what happened to Dawn, did that Glorywhosits get the key?"

"Dawn's still there, but she's no longer the key."

"Still where.she isn't the key anymore?"

"No. You are."

"I am?"

"It transferred to you because you have the blood of the original Wolfram & Hart in you. Drusilla passed it to you when she turned you. They had no human heirs.you are the only being who carried their blood. You were the only one who can assume the energy and integrate it into yourself"

"What about Dawn?" Images flash in my brain. "Oh, don't tell me. The monks had the lawyer's bones?"

"Well yeah. They needed their bones to form a vessel for the key. The bones were old, but it's all they had. They made the strongest vessel they could."

"You knew this all along didn't you? That's why you insisted I come isn't it. You knew this was going to happen and you thought I would be easier to control than Dru, that's why you killed her and spared me?"

Angel nods.

"So we're dead...You killed me?"

"I didn't know what else to do."

"You wanker! You always think only of yourself don't you? Don't bother to ask me if I'm willing to sacrifice myself for humanity.just make that choice for me. "

He grabs my face in his hands and kisses me. It's hard to think when he's changed from tongue thrusts to soft little nibbles and his hands are literaly *everywhere*, but my brain won't let me forget snippets of conversation.

"Hey, didn't you mention something about Dawn getting sent back to the senior partner's dimension and being stuck there with them?"

"Um yeah."

"So we're...You wanker."

[END]