TITLE: Sweet Childe of Mine (1/1) AUTHOR: Tienco (tienco@msn.com) COUPLE: Angel/Spike RATING: R, I suppose DISTRIBUTION: My site!! www.oocities.org/tienco_21 and various lists. Ask if you want it, I'll let you have it. Oh, Kylia, and Jai can always have it. . .if I've given you permission for something else, you are welcome to this. DISCLAIMER: All belongs to Joss Whedon. Gosh, I wish I were Joss. I'd have such a good time with Spike. . .and Angel. . .and Xander. . .and Graham. . . and Lindsey. . .throw Willow and Faith in there and it's a party!! FEEDBACK: Of *course*. Makes me write more. SPOILERS: Not really any that I can think of. . . SUMMARY: Angel thinks about his relationship with Spike. . . NOTES: I heard this song, "Sweet Child of Mine" by Guns n' Roses on the way home from work today (DISCLAIMER! DISCLAIMER! GnR owns that song!! :)) and thought this would go perfectly with it. . . DEDICATION: To Jinni, cause I love her. . . ~*~*~*~ I glance over at my childe, sighing. He's sitting in my favorite chair, those nasty banged up Doc Martins scuffing my beautiful coffee table. I feel the growl rise in my throat. I want to strangle him, as usual. Until he turns and looks up at me with those big blue eyes, fluttering his lashes in a way he knows melts my heart. "Hey, Broody, get me some blood." Nothing can dispel the feeling of contentment I feel when I'm around him: Not the way he growls about wanting blood, or the stupid names he calls me, or even the way he manages to always mess up my pristine home and never clean it up. He's got this smile that seems to me. . .reminds me of those elusive memories. . .the ones of him as a newly turned vampire, on his knees at my beck and call. Striving to please me, his only wish in the world to take my cock in his mouth and make me howl in orgasm. I miss those days. They are more frequent these days - those thoughts of who he used to be: now that Buffy has gotten tired of him and sent him to LA to live with me for a while. He grumbled the whole drive back to LA, but at night, when he turns over and looks at me with those sleepy blue eyes, murmuring that he loves me, and only me. . .I know that everything will be ok. Sweet childe of mine. Now and then, when I see his face. . .he takes me away to that special place. I know that if I stared too long, I'd probably break down and cry. Cry for what we once were, for what I know we never will be again. He sleeps in the bed with me, I can't bear to think of his lean form trying to get comfortable on the couch - but we never touch. He never reaches out for me, like he used to. The only time I see my William is in the middle of the night, while he sleeps, when he mumbles for me. . .for Angelus. It's Angelus he loves. Not me. I am a shell of the man he wants. I know that, and I accept it. I deal with it. I don't want to, but I know I could never be what Spike needs, or wants. He's got eyes of the bluest sky. I fell in love with his eyes first. Long before I noticed that lean body, the devious mind, or the evil in his heart. Those eyes enraptured me. He looked up at me, blinking coyly, bringing his bloody hand to his mouth. He'd just killed someone, for their wallet. He licked the blood off his fingertips, watching me with those blue eyes, teasing me with their dancing depths. I think he was trying to get a rise out of me. He got a rise all right. He felt it when I slammed him against the wall and plundered his mouth with mine. I gave him everything he wanted. I don't know why I wanted this mere human to love me, but I did. He followed me on my hunts, I watched as he picked pockets with the slickest hands I'd ever seen. I never let him know I was a vampire though. . .I didn't want to scare him. I was completely enraptured by him. The night I embraced him will forever be burned into my memory. We had been lovers for a few weeks. . .he came to me during the day, never questioning why I didn't like the sun. He didn't care. He didn't like it much either. His heart was too dark for that. I remember looking down at him, his body still trembling from his orgasm. I said, "William?" "Yes, Angelus?" he asked, blinking those beautiful eyes at me. "Would you like to be with me forever?" He smiled, one that let me know that he knew. "I thought you'd never bloody ask," he purred, tilting his head for me. "Hey, Poof." He pulls me out of my memories. "Yea, Spike?" I ask. "Hey, so you gonna get me the blood, or are you just going to stand there and stare at me like the Ponce you are?" I hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain. . .which I see every time I look at him. He aches for who I used to be. I can tell. He wants to be with me, wants to please me, wants me to please him. I want to. . .more than anything in the world. I would choose that sweet childe of mine over humanity, if given a choice. But he won't let me. He won't let me in. I hurt him so much in the past; gaining the soul and running from him. It was the worse possible thing I could have done. And I did it. I turn slowly and go to the kitchen, heating up a mug of blood for him. I watch as the mug turns in the microwave, staring at it, but not really seeing it. All the doubts, the regrets, the feelings of remorse run through my mind. The one thing. . .the thing I am the most sorry about was leaving my childe. "I'm so sorry," I whisper softly. "God, William, I am so fucking sorry." I close my eyes and silently pray for the thunder and the rain to pass me by. Tears fill my eyes and spill on my cheeks. Of course, I have no such luck. I, as Spike so affectionately says, have a hard on for redemption, for brooding. I can't go into any situation with a happy attitude, instead, I have to analyze, pull it apart, beat it to death. And to top it off, I still feel guilty about everything that has happened. "So," his quiet voice startles me out of my dark, brooding thoughts, "where do we go now?" I turn, brushing the tears away. "I'm. . .sorry?" I asked, trying to look as if I hadn't been crying. It's useless, he knows that I have. I bite the inside of my cheek, waiting for the onslaught of sarcastic phrases my childe will throw at me. "Peaches. . .I. . ." He pauses, and looks down, toeing at the leg of the chair with his boot. He looks back up, those pain filled blue eyes looking directly into my soul. "Angelus," he whispers. "I love you. I always have, I always will. I don't know if you feel anything for me. . .if you want to be with me. But. . ." His voice catches. I can't speak. I can't say a single word. However, I hope that the crushing force of my body against his, pushing him into the wall, my lips bruising his. . .a kiss just like our first. . .I hope that that speaks for me. That he knows that I want him. That he understands that I need him in my life. When we finally pull apart, he looks up at me, blue eyes dancing with enjoyment, like they did so many years ago. He waggles his scarred eyebrow at me. "So ya still do want your sweet childe, eh, mate?" he teases. Oh, god, Spike, do I ever. I growl and throw him over my shoulder, mug of blood in the microwave forgotten. I take him to my room to show him just *how* much I want him. Such a sweet childe of mine. ** ** **