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The Darkling Plain - Episode
9
Chapter 4
Spike knew where he was: he sensed the demon's presence.
He tore down the stairs, incandescent with rage.
Jordan was in the room they'd set up as Spike's daytime den. He was leaning against the window, staring out at the small scene playing out in the snow: Sam pulling Droc, dressed in a Santa hat, around on a sledge.
Spike tore over to him and, cursing the sun, yanked him against the wall.
Before he let rip with his fury at what Jordan had done, however, he put his hand in wonder to the demon's face.
'Crying? J? You never…. I mean…. What's wrong?'
Jordan pulled away angrily and went back to the window, leaning his forehead on it, tracing small patterns in the condensation.
'You're so lucky, Spike.'
Spike leant on the wall alongside him, just out of reach of the dangerous sunlight. 'I know I am.'
'He loves you so much.'
'I know that, too. And I'm fucking furious with you, Mate. So don't think a few tears are gonna stop me from tearing you a new….'
'I wonder what Sam would say if someone did that for me.'
'Huh?'
Jordan tipped his head to one side. 'Tell him- that I love him.' He laughed self-deprecatingly. 'Funny demon.'
Spike studied his profile for a moment, many things clicking rapidly into place. Eventually, he said softly, 'I think you should tell him yourself.'
'Okay. Tonight. I'll tell him he has to give up his whole life because I want him to.' He turned sadly and looked at Spike. 'We're as incompatible as you and Angel.'
'Hey! I'm getting a bit sick and tired of other demons telling me….'
'Humans won't ever tell you, Babe. They live in make-believe worlds, because they're too fragile to face reality. And anyway, it's not demon human incompatibility with us. It's just him and me. What he needs- who he needs… how many. What I need- just him.'
Remembrance of the events of the previous night suddenly rose in Spike like bile in his throat, and he whispered, 'I was… while you did that for me? Oh, God, J, I'm so sorry.'
Jordan chuckled in a low voice, 'Funnily enough, you're the only one I can stand to think about him with.'
'You sayin' I don't count or something?'
'No, you fuckwit. I'm saying I love you, too.'
Spike tugged at his arm and pulled him out of the light. Jordan lay on him against the wall, and they studied each other thoughtfully. Jordan smiled. 'I'm sensing my Christmas present worked?'
Spike dipped his head. 'I don't know what you told him, but….'
'I just told him the truth. For God's sake, it's been deafening us for weeks.'
They heard the front door open and an excited barking.
They pulled apart, but before Spike could leave, Jordan caught at his arm. 'Don't tell him.'
'Jordan, you need….'
'Spike! Promise me! Don't tell him!'
'Okay, Pet. I won't. But it won't stop me trying to make you tell him.'
Sam burst in with an armful of holly. 'Hey! I need demons for the putting up of pagan decorations. This is SO cool. And… look what I've found…!' He held the mistletoe over his head gleefully.
Dutifully, Spike kissed him as he went past, but then he went back and dragged Jordan over, too. 'Kiss him, J. It's bloody traditional.'
Jordan shook his head censoriously at Spike, giving him a private look, but then bent in to kiss Sam.
Sam dropped the mistletoe and began to dance around the room with him, kissing and laughing. 'Fuck, who's missing Babel?'
Jordan eased him off and said sadly, 'Yeah. Of course you're not.'
Spike found a box in the kitchen and filled it with food, drinks, some books and a couple of magazines, then went thoughtfully upstairs.
Angel was in the hot tub once more and made to get out when he saw Spike, but Spike waved for him to stay there. Carefully, he made himself comfortable on his belly on some cushions in the shade behind the drapes, and laid out a small picnic for Angel.
Angel only stayed out for a couple of minutes, then he rose, slick and flushed, and joined Spike back in the gloom, pointedly sealing the sunshine out behind him. He lay down and pillowed his head on the small of Spike's back.
'I'm sorry. It's not fair to keeping asking you.'
Spike twisted his head toward Angel's shoulder fractionally and nodded.
Angel slid his wrist across the carpet a little so they could both admire its new decoration, and Spike slapped him for being vain.
Angel chuckled and helped himself to some food from the selection Spike had chosen. After a few minutes, watching Spike carefully out of the corner of one eye, he said softly, 'What's wrong?'
Spike put his chin down on folded arms. 'Jordan.'
'You killed him then?'
'Hmm. Slowly.'
'Did he scream?'
'Yeah.'
'Did you get hard?'
'Angel?'
'Hmm?'
'Do you always have to keep promises when you have a soul?'
Angel chuckled. 'Hang on, I'll just ask God, because being human, I'm so much closer to the answers to….'
'Wanker. Seriously, if you'd promised someone something, would you keep that promise?'
'Yeah. I think I'd try to.'
'What if the promise was wrong? What if…?'
'Spike? Just tell me, maybe?'
'Jordan is in love with Sam, and I promised I'd not say anything.'
'Oh. I thought Sam loved Jordan anyway, and Jordan loves… and you love… and, shit! Have I been missing something all this time…? I mean… you have…?'
'There's love, and then there's love- you know that, Pet. I love Sam, and I love J, but not like I love….'
'Me?'
'Pillock. I was gonna say Droc.'
'And now you wish you'd not promised?'
'I think J's wrong. I think he's wrong about how Sam would take it.'
'You can't interfere, Spike. You can't do that to other people's relationships…. Okay, is there a SINGLE one of our friends who hasn't interfered with ours?'
'Nope.'
'Tell him.'
'And promises?'
'Get Sam to promise that he won't tell J you told him.'
'Huh. Cool.'
Angel stretched. 'It's hard down here.'
'Want some more cushions?'
'Nooo…. It's hard… down… here.'
'I'm always hard, Angel; you said that- it doesn't mean anything.'
'So, it's not because I'm naked and hot from the tub?'
'Nope.'
'It's not because you can smell where you fucked me for hours?'
'Nooo….'
'How about the….'
'Oh, yeah, it's that. Come here.' Spike pulled him over, hissing as the heat of Angel's skin oozed into him. They kissed, mouths opening automatically, wanting to touch tongues, intimate slivers of flesh flicking softly against each other.
Naked, Angel straddled Spike. He reached down and the sound of Spike's zipper was loud in the room. Spike arched back as his erection sprung free- but it wasn't free for long. Angel lifted then sank down slowly- very slowly, each inch of the hard shaft imprisoned inside the tight intimacy of his body.
He ground down, until he could feel short, wiry curls scratching the sensitive skin around the lips of his hole, then rose, dragging tight around the slick shaft. Spike cried out, one high-pitched cry of pleasure, and ejaculated so fast and so hard that they were both caught totally unprepared. Angel felt the cold fluid flooding him and gasped, hardly stiff, not ready for the feeling of Spike jerking and bucking beneath him, shooting such a load into him. Spike grabbed Angel's waist, digging his fingers in, until the soft, human skin gave way, bleeding to his small penetrations. Angel keened a long note of extreme delight at still being able to pleasure his demonic lover so, and then felt the demon softening, all the tension draining out of his preternatural body.
Angel looked down. Spike looked up. Once more, their mouths crushed together. Suddenly, Spike snatched his lips away, and Angel felt his hips being jerked closer. Spike snatched Angel's cock to his mouth, took it between his lips, wanting to pleasure it. Angel arched back as a very educated tongue explored his sensitive cockhead, his slit being plundered and tasted enthusiastically.
Spike rose up, pushing Angel onto his back, taking the entire erection into his mouth and grinding it against the walls of his throat. Soft, wiry curls rubbed against his lips as he pushed the bulbous head further down. Then, exquisitely slowly, he withdrew, sucking hard as he pulled his lips off. Angel's penis lengthened, drawn out and sucked to its full extension. Just as Angel thought he could take no more, he was plunged back into the cool cavern. The friction of Spike's lips over his wet cock shot intense jolts of pleasure through Angel's balls and out to his spine, where the nerves took on the message and radiated it around his body, flushing his face and pricking his skin with sweat.
They both knew he wouldn't last long. Spike was too skilful, knew Angel's body too well, and Angel wanted it too much.
As Spike slid his lips back onto the rigid shaft once more, it exploded hot against his throat, shot after shot of sperm coating his cool walls. He swallowed time and time again, moaning into the deliciousness that was Angel.
When his cock stopped jerking and releasing, the sensation was almost too much for Angel. He cried out, half in pain and half in pleasure, his chest heaving, his whole body aching with the intense relief of his orgasm.
They lay entangled together on the floor for a long time, the rest of the day passing them by: voices in the sunlight ignored, the domestic sounds of humans living together tuned out. It was just the two of them: their bodies, their flesh, and their smell.
Angel was the first to separate- as they both knew he would have to be. With a self-deprecating chuckle, he murmured, 'Wanna share what else I can produce?'
Spike shook his head. 'Generous, but... no. Go pee, Human.'
With a swift kiss to the cool lips, Angel jogged toward the bathroom.
Spike stretched luxuriously and turned onto his belly to see if it was dark outside.
When Angel came out, he crawled onto the bed and lay on his belly, too, staring at Spike. After a moment, he patted the space alongside him, and it was quickly and willingly filled.
They smiled at each other, both equally delighted by what they saw. Angel looked down demurely and murmured, 'Sorry.'
Spike nodded. 'I'm gonna take that in the all-encompassing way it was intended. Now, how's about you get dressed and we go downstairs- remind our friends we exist? It's Christmas Eve.'
Angel rolled onto his back and held up his newly decorated wrist. 'Good idea.'
'You're gonna… show everyone, aren't you?'
'Hmm.'
'Make some big… romantic deal out of it?'
'Hmm.'
Spike rolled onto his back with a sigh. 'That's my cover totally blown, then.'
Angel snagged Spike's fingers and entwined them with his. 'What it says is just between us. Just like you're the only one who'll be able to see what lies behind those eyes.' He glanced over at the portrait.
Spike tightened his grip on Angel's fingers for a brief moment then rolled off to his feet. He held out his hand. 'Let's go decorate for Christmas.'
It was a perfect evening. Everyone felt it. They brought in a tree from the forest. They covered it with things that shone and reflected the light from the fire. There was real love and happiness in the room, and it centred on Spike and Angel, radiated from them to encompass their friends. Their easy playfulness infected everyone. Too much wine was drunk, too much food consumed, but no one objected.
As the night wore on, Spike became a pale shadow to Angel's light; he watched, but he stayed out of the centre of things, letting Angel's innate goodness shine; studying him, loving him, wanting him. With this silent encouragement, this worship from the wings, Angel couldn't help but shine. His first Christmas- he exemplified the message they were all there to bear witness to.
Spike studied Angel as if his entire existence depended upon some examination that was soon to follow. He watched how his hands worked: each knuckle considered intently. He followed the contours of Angel's body as it moved, remembering how that body worked in passion, in pain, in grief, in happiness. Most of all, he concentrated on the face he knew so well- it's brief flickers of uncertainty, its flashes of humour, its genuine kindness and desire to do what was right.
He had never felt such overwhelming love for this man who had taken the outward form of his lover.
When he could stand it no longer, when the pain was too much, he slid further into the shadows where his presence merged with the darkness, and went in search of the other who was forever excommunicated from the message of this evening.
She was sitting on her bed. Spike didn't knock. He went in and shut the door behind him, going to the window to light a cigarette.
When it was lit to his satisfaction, he inhaled deeply and then turned, studying her cold, lifeless form. He frowned. The bed was covered in books and scrolls. He went over and picked one up distastefully. 'This some kind of sick watcher foreplay?'
Without giving him the satisfaction of rising to this, she murmured, 'Wesley's foreplay is exceptional. Yours - if I remember rightly - totally sucked.'
Spike jerked his head back, then laughed. 'Well, yeah, but mine consisted of throwing you against a car and calling you a bitch'
At that, she chuckled and turned from her intense scrutiny of the ancient texts. 'What do you want, Spike? I'm busy.'
'You're missing out on… Christmas.'
'And the angels are weeping at my absence?'
'No. They've not noticed. I did though. Come down. This is kind of… spooky?'
'I'm busy.'
Spike picked up a book. 'Shanshu?'
'Fuck off.'
'I did- earlier. It was good. I'm smelling you've… not.'
She turned and gave him a frank, questioning look. 'How can you allow yourself any pleasure? You are evil personified.'
'Wow. I'm intensely flattered.'
She looked down sadly. 'Don't joke about it.'
Spike made a small, incredulous sound, and then sat next to her on the bed. 'The past can't be changed, Lilah. What you did, you did.'
'I know. But it has to have a meaning. Everything has to mean something.'
'Maybe it was to bring you to this time and this place- here, tonight.'
'Why?'
'Do you think you're God?'
'Don't be obtuse.'
'Don't you be then! Who the fuck are you to think that this minute of time doesn't mean more than a whole lifetime of noble sacrifice? Shit, Lilah, you're just a child. You're just a blink in my eternity. If there's one thing I've learnt, it's that I don't know shit. So, you change- put on a pretty frock, do your face, and get downstairs. You make people happy. You be nice. You be decorative. You be any damn thing you feel you need to be, but you make Angel happy.'
'Angel?'
'Well, yeah, if he's happy, everyone else is, too. Or haven't you noticed?'
She smiled sadly. 'No, Spike. That's you. When you're happy the angels sing. He just reflects that.'
Spike shrugged. 'Okay. You're wrong, but either way, I want you downstairs. This….' He swept the research off in one strong movement. 'This will happen whether we will it or not- whether we deserve it or not. In the end, we make our own destiny, Childe.'
She put a hand to his cheek, pressing into the bone beneath. 'Ours is linked, Sire.'
Spike nodded. 'I know that. I've always known that.'
Slowly, she began to unbutton his shirt, one small button at a time. Spike watched the slim fingers as they contacted briefly with his flesh- his flesh on his flesh. Suddenly, he grasped her wrist and held her hand to his face. He twisted it around gently. 'Mine?'
She nodded. 'Yours.'
He put a finger to his mouth and tasted it, biting into the tendon, tipping his head back in ecstasy. She watched him, her eyes glistening. 'They can't compete, can they?'
He rose and re-buttoned his shirt. 'We're demons, Lilah. As you said, we deserve to suffer.'
With that, he spun on his heel and left, casting angrily over his shoulder, 'Downstairs, now.'
She rose quickly and obeyed, not caring all that much what she did or where she went.
Angel sensed something was wrong as they undressed for bed. He watched Spike carefully, trying to sense his mood. He watched him prop the picture up on a chair, so he could see it whenever he turned, and as he watched this, he realised he'd been twisting his bracelet around and around on his wrist.
'J seemed okay….'
Spike seemed to come back from a long way away. He cast a small look at Angel. 'Yeah. He's a good actor.'
'Oh. Tree looks great.'
Spike nodded, absentmindedly and climbed into bed, sweeping Droc from the armchair and depositing him into the space between his legs.
Angel slid in alongside them and began to fondle the silky ears. 'He's so going to love his new basket.'
Spike frowned. Angel sighed. 'Droc, Spike, not Jordan.'
'Oh. Yeah. Angel…?'
Angel sighed in relief. 'Yeah?'
'Does Wesley ever talk about Lilah?'
'Sure. All the time.'
'And?'
'He's…. She's…. It's….'
'We were very strong when we got our souls.' He rolled onto his side to stare at Angel, the puppy being dislodged into the hollow of Spike's back, a position he didn't seem to object to, too much.
Angel nodded slowly. 'We were.'
'I didn't do her much of a service, I'm thinking.'
Angel sighed. 'When she tried to burn you for eternity, you were seeing her on a good day. She was twisted when she was human- totally without conscience or heart. She was obsessed with me and tried to get to me through everyone- Cordy, Wesley.'
'I should have let her die.'
'And bring Angelus back?'
Spike's eyebrow twitched up a fraction, and Angel had the grace to look away, abashed. 'I wouldn't be as… bad this time…. I know I wouldn't.'
'You know it's not going to happen, Angel.'
Angel glanced down at his bracelet. 'I guess we're going to put this promise to the test.'
'So? I won't stop loving you- doesn't matter what happens.'
'I feel time weighing down upon me.'
'That's why I want you to have your sunshine, Angel. Carpe Diem- it's all you can do now.'
With that, Spike turned over so his back was to Angel, and burying his face in soft, scraggly fur, he prayed that he would not lose it as he had the previous night.