| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |
| Home | Spike/Angel | Spike/Giles | Spike/Angel/Giles | Spike/Angel/Wesley | Gallery | Poems | Buttons |

The Definition of Normal - 3

Spike squinted up at the sun as he stretched himself out on the sun bed. He didn't want to think about demons, spawning, or alternate realities. He didn't want to think about the fact that Angel had not commented on his declaration of love, but that thought circled around in his mind distractingly.

It was midday and hot; exquisitely hot. He felt that languid sensuality creeping over him once more. He seemed to be absorbing the heat, taking it into his body where it slid over his organs, vitalising them. He turned onto his stomach and felt his rising erection swelling against the mattress of the bed. It was delightful, and he rubbed slightly to increase the friction. The sun felt even better on his back than on his front; it pricked the thin skin over his spine, making nerve endings give up the struggle to sense any more. He became fluid and relaxed. He dozed. He lost track of time. He awoke to the knowledge that it was evening. He was cold, and there was still no sign of Angel.

He stood up, stretched, and cried out in pain. His skin suddenly felt too small for his body, as if someone had crept up on him while he was asleep and sewed him up somehow. He hobbled into the bedroom and sat down on the bed, screamed and stood up again. His belly was a strange colour; it was red, in stripes and odd shapes. He groaned and staggered over to the mirror. His back was worse, his backside looking as though someone had spanked him with wooden bats for hours. He felt sick. He radiated heat from his entire body.

For the first time in his life, Spike had sunburn. He didn't know where to put himself; he felt like crying, felt more like a hug, if only a metaphorical one. He went in search of his sire. It didn't take long to find Angel. He was in the bathroom on his knees with his forehead resting on the floor. Small, pathetic groans emanated from him every once in a while. Suddenly, he rose up and vomited weakly into the toilet bowl. When he sat back on his heels, he spotted Spike in the doorway. A weak `I'm feeling sick and can't laugh because I really am ill' giggle escaped his lips.

'You're all red.'

Spike didn't reply but gave a small, sorry-for-himself whimper. Angel groaned and stood up. He came hesitantly over and put a hand on Spike's shoulder. He hissed when he saw a very real wince of pain.

'You're actually hot, Spike. Your skin's absorbed the heat of the sun!' He stood entranced, touching Spike gently all over the worst areas.

'Come on.' He led Spike to the shower and made him stand under a stream of cool water. Spike groaned as his temperature started to lower. Angel sat on the edge of the bath, watching him.

Eventually, Spike's self-absorption ended enough for him to say, nodding towards the toilet, 'What's wrong with you?'

Angel looked furtive. 'I must have eaten something that disagreed with me… you know… delicate first-time stomach.'

Spike didn't believe one word of it, but didn't feel up to arguing. Angel rummaged in the cupboard and found some after-sun lotion and steered Spike into the bedroom. He made him lie face down on the bed and poured it liberally over Spike's back and smoothed it gently in.


'Yeah. Thanks.'

'We haven't been very good humans yet, have we?'

'Nah. Fucking pathetic.'

'You going to be okay?'

'I'll survive, but fuck it hurts!'

'No, Spike… are you going to be… okay?' Angel's seductive voice slid over Spike, and he turned to look at him. Angel was stroking Spike's back with one hand and working an urgent erection with the other. The lotion made it glisten; it was flushed red and angry.

Spike groaned once more, but it had nothing to do with sunburn this time. He rolled onto his back and pulled Angel closer so he could see; he was fascinated by the visual effect of the human cock in Angel's hand. 'Look how red it is!'

Angel could only groan his agreement. Spike placed a finger on the smooth mushroom tip and swirled it around, teasing the tiny slit. Angel suddenly knelt up and emptied himself over Spike's chest. The pale milky fluid pooled on the red skin, the stark contrast of temperature and colour making Spike give out a low hissed 'yeah.' He swirled his finger through the fluid, spreading it over his sunburn. Angel cried harshly as the last drops left him then crashed down on the bed alongside Spike, falling almost immediately into a deep, post- coital sleep.

Spike sat up, shaking his head in disbelief at him, winced at the pain this gave his burnt neck and lay down next to the sleeping figure, feeling utterly wretched, dejected, and increasingly sorry for himself. He remembered times when Angelus had kept an erection hard for a whole day... this human Angel was proving to be a sad disappointment so far.

Things were improved somewhat in the morning. Spike felt better… sore, but able to get up bravely to make them both some coffee. When he got to the kitchen it became clear why Angel had been so sick the night before. Spike carried the mugs of coffee back to bed and woke Angel with some judicious licks. Angel laughed and turned over. 'I'm human!'

Spike smiled at Angel's face. 'You sure are, luv. Oh, and, I hope you are the kind of human who can go without food for the next four days.'

The furtive look returned to Angel's face. 'Oh. Sorry.'

'Everything, luv! Nothing left… except for the marmite.'

'Yeah, I didn't like that!'

Spike shook his head at Angel and climbed onto the bed to kneel alongside him. Angel laid a speculative finger on Spike's thigh. 'So, what's there to do around here if we aren't going to waste time eating?'

Angel's face made Spike laugh. 'Well, to all intents and purposes, you are Liam, so I guess….'

'Hmm… intents and purposes, hey? I like the sound of that.' Angel's finger started to travel up Spike's thigh in a slow, lazy trail. 'And what are you intending, exactly?'

Spike laughed again, but it had very little humour in it this time. He put a hand on Angel's finger before it could reach its goal and turned over to lie on his stomach. 'Remember, Angel, I've kind of been here, done this, and sent the postcard. Believe me, I did not say, "wish you were here" on it.'

Angel sat up and started to play with Spike's tempting back, now running his fingers lightly up and down the prominent spine. 'Turn over again.' Angel's husky voice told Spike that he had not really understood. He put a hand back and grabbed Angel's wrist.

'Hey! Angel… I don't want to, okay! I've done it… didn't like it. In fact, as that fat wanker Harris would say - it grossed me out, Angel.'

Angel sat back on his heels and wrenched his wrist out of Spike's grasp. 'Why did you bring Xander Harris into it? What have you been doing with him?' Smiling, despite his intention at Spike's gagging motions, Angel continued. 'And what do you mean, "I don't want to"?' His imitation of Spike's accent, shaded by the eternal Irish hatred for the English, only made Spike smile.

'I don't; believe me, Angel, you don't want to either.'

Furiously, Angel straddled Spike's back, ignoring his slight wince of pain as the friction hurt the still tender skin. 'I've just come here for five days, Spike, expressly for the purpose of having some fun with you. What the fuck are you telling me `no' for?'

Spike didn't really want to go into specifics, as he didn't think it would reflect too well on him. He only persevered with his assertion. 'I don't want to, Angel. It's not the same… leave it at that, hey?'

Angel took hold of Spike's arm and started to twist it behind Spike's back, just enough to make it hurt. Spike threw him off and took advantage of Angel's temporary shock at realising he did not have the power and strength of a three hundred year old master vampire now to stomp to the bathroom. He returned with a tub of lube, threw it on the bed, climbed on beside Angel, stuck his backside up in the air and, turning to look over his shoulder, said resignedly. 'Okay… you're not gonna listen to me… get on with it then.'

Despite the lack of romanticism in this invitation, Angel didn't hesitate. He liberally coated himself with the lubrication and pushed the tip of his erection up against Spike's exposed hole. Spike buried his face into the bed with a slightly evil, 'Don't listen to me then' grin and gritted his teeth.

Some time later and, despite being gone over an hour, Angel had still not emerged from the bathroom. Spike went tentatively to the door and peered around.

Angel was standing in front of the mirror staring at his reflection. He had clearly had the shower he had rushed for in such a shocked and horrified state.

Spike went and stood behind him, and Angel's eyes flickered briefly to the new reflection, but then returned to contemplation of his own.

'What?' Spike made an obscene face, just to see Angel's reaction. Angel was too engrossed to notice. 'Hey! What y' looking at?'


'Duh. Why?'

'Look at me, Spike! I'm… I'm….' Angel's hand went to his face, then to his eyes, and then to his wet, flat hair. He suddenly turned away and opened the large bathroom cabinet. Row upon row of hair products lined the shelves. Spike took one look at Angel's face on seeing this gallery of delights and stomped off, leaving him to it.

Angel spent the rest of the morning in the bathroom. Spike listened to some music, he read for a while, and he stood looking wistfully out at the sun. Once, he'd risked his skin to go for a swim, but had quickly retreated from the intense glare.

Angel emerged eventually, as if in a trance. Spike looked slowly from Angel's hair, down his body to his feet, huffed and turned away. `Poof!'

Stretching with pleasure, Angel came to stand beside him at the door to the deck. 'I love this.'

Spike snorted. 'You weren't loving it earlier, I'm thinking.' Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Angel wince and grinned evilly to himself.

'Well, I love this….' Angel indicated the deck, the sun, and the pool. '… and I'm going for a swim.'

He pushed past Spike. 'Hey!' The disbelief was evident in Spike's voice. 'What about bleedin' me? What'm I supposed to bloody do?'

'Watch me?'

There was no irony in Angel's tone, and Spike realised why when Angel did a perfect dive and swum strongly under the water to the other end. He turned, still under the water, and swum back. Spike laughed and sat in the shade of the house to do exactly what Angel suggested. He watched how the water ran off Angel's tanning skin. He watched as the muscles rippled and flexed as he swam lazily through the water. He watched as the sunlight glistened on the sleek body. Most of all, he watched Angel's face as he, too, experienced the exquisite pleasure of the sun.

When Angel finished swimming, he came over to where Spike was sitting and lay on the hot decking close to him, but in the sun.

Spike smiled at him and stretched out a hand. Angel touched his fingers briefly to Spike's then turned onto his back and stretched out, sighing in pleasure. 'It is different here, isn't it?'


'It's like you said, Spike. This is quite different to how it was for us when we were alive.'

'Sure is.'

'My mother used to take me to the sea to swim sometimes. She never told my father; it was frowned upon. I can remember huddling on the sand so cold I thought I would die… loving the illicit feeling of being there with her, but so wishing I was warm.'

Spike looked at the sunlight highlighting Angel's hair and felt as if he were in a dream. Angel had never talked to him like that. Angelus couldn't; Angel wouldn't. He reached his hand out and started to stroke the soft hair. 'You didn't swim in London, mate. Not if you wanted to live 'til you were….' he gave a rueful laugh. '… all of forty, I guess.'

Angel twisted to look at him. 'Did you never go to the seaside?'

Spike laughed. 'My mother was conventional, pet.' The thought that Angel knew and remembered his mother in other ways, crossed Spike's mind uncomfortably, but he did not want to mention it and ruin the mood. Angel clearly remembered this himself and was quiet for a while. He moved his head to Spike's petting though, obviously enjoying the attention.

After a while, he turned back onto his stomach, wincing slightly at the heat of the wood on his skin. He pillowed his head in his hands and squinted at Spike. 'You should see the Atlantic rollers, Spike. They used to crash into the bay. I could hear them at night; they called to me.'

'Didn't get much surf on the Thames.'

Angel laughed. 'Come on… you shouldn't be sitting out here, even in the shade.' He jumped up and pulled Spike with him into the bedroom. He threw Spike some clothes and started to get dressed himself. 'Let's explore.'

Spike was surprised that any other areas of the house existed. He had assumed it all too unreal to bother to look. Angel was intrigued by this manifestation of Spike's subconscious and prowled around the games room, the small cinema, and the bar with fascination. 'Pool?'

'Angel… I can't… too sore….'

'Pool, Spike… as in little coloured balls… well, you've got those already from the other pool, but….' Spike hit him and stomped into the games room.

They played for hours. After the first few games, Spike started to watch Angel warily out of the corner of his eye. Finally Angel turned to him and said determinedly, 'What? Why are you looking at me like that?'

Spike hopped up onto the table and began to skid the balls into the pockets. 'It's just this, Angel. We've talked; we've played pool, and we've talked some more. 'Fact, we haven't stopped talking.'

Angel sat beside him, swinging his legs. 'I know. It's weird, Spike. I only came here to… I thought we would… that wasn't… but I never thought we'd just be... together. This is unexpected.'

'Unexpected? ` Spike pouted a little, and Angel felt a surge of adrenalin trickle down his spine. `Are you happy though, pet?'

He took Spike's face in his hands and placed a deep, intense kiss on the pouting lips. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead on Spike's with a sigh of contentment. 'Kissing still good here, then.'

He sensed Spike smiling, too. 'You not going to even say the word happiness then, luv?'

Angel looked Spike directly in the eye. 'Happy, Spike. It's almost too scary to think about, but I am. You make me happy, and you're not even… we're not….'

'I know. Great, isn't it!'

Angel pulled away and looked seriously at Spike. 'You are coming back with me. This is not real, Spike.'

Spike laid a finger on his cheek and drew it down slowly and sensually. 'I know, pet. But now the friendship can come back with us, hey?'

Angel grinned and turned so he could wrap his legs around Spike's waist. 'Let's improve it a bit then, shall we? Lots we can still do without….'

Spike grinned and turned to face him. 'Yeah… lots.' He pushed Angel over until he was lying on his back and knelt over him, straddling his chest. He leant down and began to kiss Angel with possessiveness he had not felt for Angel before. It was as if Angel's human flaws only made him more desirable.

He kissed into Angel's closed eyes, relishing the warmth from the soft vulnerable hollows. Angel pulled him back to his mouth and they swirled their tongues together, each attempting to take more and more from the other. Spike pulled away slightly and turned Angel's face to the green baize and nuzzled into his ear. It was cool compared to the rest of the skin on Angel's face, and the soft cartilage entranced Spike. He traced his tongue around the ridges and then nibbled on the earlobe for a moment. Angel began to thrust his hips up into Spike to increase the friction on his straining erection. Spike chuckled quietly and whispered into the cool ear, `Be patient, Angel... I'll get there... eventually.'

Angel turned again and pulled Spike's lower lip gently into his mouth. He held it between his teeth and said as distinctly as he could. `Now.'

Spike only dug his fingers into the nerve endings in Angel's shoulder, forcing him to release, and grinned cheekily at the pained look on Angel's face. `I said patience, Angel. You're not a vampire now.'

Between clenched teeth Angel hissed out, `I know that, Spike. That's why I think you'd better hurry up! Err... remember last night!'

Spike only raised one eyebrow at him and continued. He unbuttoned Angel's shirt, never allowing him to drop his gaze. Angel twitched his lips in a rueful smile of acquiescence but, nevertheless, undid the last few buttons himself. He sat up and ripped the shirt off and threw it impatiently onto the floor. Spike watched these hurried actions with interest and tutted slightly, only going more slowly as a result.

He leant over Angel's naked torso and pushed Angel's arms up, stretching them over his head, indicating that he expected them to be kept there.

He adjusted his position slightly, so he straddled Angel's hips, giggling slightly as Angel groaned in frustration at the loss of contact on his erection.

Trailing his fingers agonisingly slowly up Angel's chest, Spike leant into his armpits and nuzzled into the soft hair, biting lightly at the sensitive skin. Angel hissed and tried to lower his arms; Spike pushed them back with a slight slap and a look of annoyance. `It tickles, Spike.'

`And you've had so much tickling in your dead life to not want to enjoy it while you can?'

Angel pursed his lips for a moment and then smiled and nodded. Spike resumed his sensual attack. He licked all around the hollow of Angel's arm; he could taste the chlorine from the pool; he could taste a faint trace of fresh, sweet sweat; he thought he could almost taste the sun, but put this down to the general excitement of the moment.

He licked up the inside of Angel's arm, following the line of one blue vein, prominent under the pale underarm skin. Angel lost patience completely at this and pulled him back into a deep kiss, thrusting his hips up, trying to contact with Spike again.

Spike snickered quietly and slid off to one side, twisting so he was lying at right angles to Angel's chest. He glanced at Angel's erection and decided to be generous. Sliding Angel's zipper down, he took the hot, weeping shaft in his hand, and as he swirled his tongue over Angel's peaked nipple, he swirled a finger over the exposed tip of Angel's cock.

Angel swore quietly, then suddenly pushed Spike's head down frantically towards the straining erection. `I'm going to come, Spike.'

Spike swapped his soft tickling of the cockhead to a hard grip around the base. `No you're not. Relax, Angel.'

Angel sat up and propped himself up on his elbows. `You can't do that!' His brow was wrinkled with confusion.

Spike laughed and, keeping a firm hold, came back to kiss Angel's mouth. `I just have.'

`But I'm your... you're my....'

`Not here, we're not.'

Angel lifted one hand and captured the back of Spike's neck, pulling him back for another kiss. `Always, Spike. It doesn't matter who we are or where we are, I'll always be your sire.'

Spike allowed Angel the intense emotion of the moment and didn't challenge him on the events of the last ninety years.

Instead he looked intently into Angel's dark brown eyes, twitched up one eyebrow, and shrugged slightly. ``K, pet.'

Simultaneously he let go with his hand and replaced it with his mouth, clamping his lips deeply against the base of Angel's cock. Angel flung himself back onto the hard table then sat up again and thrust Spike's head lower, forcing him harder on the cock, pressing the tip against Spike's throat. He felt Spike moving his head from side-to-side and increased the pressure on the back of his neck. It was exquisite. His erection was not as urgent as his usual vampire one, nor as intense, but there was something uniquely pleasurable about feeling the raw heat of Spike's mouth. Spike's movements became frantic; Angel attempted to push harder, and Spike brought his hand up and started to claw desperately at Angel's wrist. Surprised, Angel let go, and Spike surfaced with a heaving gasp for air; he choked, holding his throat in outrage. `I fucking need to breathe, you pillock. Bleedin' hell, Angel... I was suffocating on cock there... didn't you notice?'

Angel was speechless with anger; his anger fuelled by a very real guilt at not remembering that he didn't have his eternal, non- breathing childe sucking on him, but this new, unfamiliar, human.

`Wouldn't have hurt you to have just finished up, Spike. That's the second time you've done that to me, coward. Look at it... finish it off....'

If this was supposed to win Spike's compliance, it backfired on Angel badly. Spike did look at Angel's throbbing, unsatisfied cock. He did put his mouth back to it. He looked briefly at Angel, and then bit hard on the weeping tip, jumped off the table, and ran for cover. Angel howled and curled into a ball. He'd never felt pain like it. He enjoyed pain normally, got off on it occasionally, but this was awful. He felt it undermining him; tears came unbidden to his eyes. He wanted to cry out loud; he wanted to... he wanted to punish Spike.

He rolled painfully off the table, hitched up his pants and, fastening them slowly over the raw tip of his penis, went hunting. He looked in all the obvious places, amazed at how cut off and blind he was to Spike's presence. It was dark out now, and he turned on all the lights of the house until the darkness withdrew. When he had searched everywhere he could think of, he returned to the bedroom, thinking. Even with his dulled hearing, he could hear the faint splash, splash, as someone swam lazily up the pool in the dark.

Angel stepped out onto the desk. Spike swam warily into the middle of the pool.

`Get out.'

`Yeah, like I'm gonna do that.'

Angel pictured going in for Spike, thought it might be unbecoming to his superior position as the sire and, instead, sat on a sunlounger and stretched in a provocatively annoying way. `I can wait.'

Spike pushed over to the opposite side of the pool and debated making a dash for it, but he wasn't fooled by Angel's nonchalant stretch; he could see Angel was tense and ready to pounce if he made a move. He hooked his elbows over the edge of the pool and stretched, too, splashing his feet in an irritating manner at Angel. `So can I.'

After an hour, Spike began to feel a new sensation. He looked at his arm; it was covered in tiny bumps and he was... he was shivering. This was cold beyond that he normally felt as a vampire. This was bone cold that made his bowels contract and his teeth rattle... but Angel was still there. He had never once taken his eyes off Spike. He was a menacing dark presence on the other side of the water. Eventually, Spike could take it no longer.

`I'm sorry... but Angel... I couldn't breathe, mate!'

`Get out.'

`Oh! Fuck you!' Spike was incensed. `Can't you take a bleedin' apology? And it was your fucking fault anyway.'

`You bit me!'

`You murdered me, sucked all me blood out, and made me a demon... do I mention that!'

`Oh... we're going to go through a list of who's done what to who are we....'

`Whom, you fat Irish peasant... who's done what to whom.'

`Shut up, Spike... I was reading and writing long before you were born.'

`No you bleedin' weren't... I taught you, if you remember... peasant. All you could write was "wench" "fuck" and "another ale bartender, if you please".'

`Get out! Now!'

Spike was now getting desperate; he could not feel his toes. It felt once more as if he was being drained, but he could not (would not) lose to Angel. He decided to call Angel's bluff. He climbed out and faced Angel a little shakily from the other side of the pool. `Come and get me then, git.'

Angel stood up and came slowly towards him, trying to assess which side Spike was going to dodge. He got it wrong, dashing towards the house just as Spike made it to the steps down to the beach. Spike miscalculated Angel's commitment to his punishment, however, for Angel neatly turned and vaulted over the rail, landing heavily on the sand beside him. Angel was winded, but Spike was cold. They were fairly evenly matched. Spike kicked Angel in the side of the head and tried to run, but the soft sand and his shaking body slowed him down. Angel grunted in genuine pain, but snaked out a hand and grabbed Spike's ankle, bringing him down with a soft hiss of pain. Angel flung himself onto the prone figure, straddled Spike's legs and started pummelling him in the belly; Spike brought up his knee and rammed it into Angel's back, sending him sprawling to one side. He twisted and quickly sat on Angel's back. He pressed both hands against the back of Angel's head, forcing his face, and more importantly his mouth, into the soft sand. He crowed in delight. `You fucking bastard, Angel... how do you like it, hey? You'd probably like it if it was cock, wouldn't you though... you poof.'

Angel spluttered and tried desperately to turn his face, but Spike leant into the hold, pressing him in. Eventually, Angel's clawing hands found Spike's arms, and he dug his nails into Spike's skin, raking them down, leaving bleeding trails in their wake. Spike had to let go and was immediately flung off to one side as Angel twisted over. He knelt up and started spitting sand out, wiping his face furiously. Spike decided not to fight anymore; he lay there dejectedly, inspecting the blood... the human blood that did not make him rise and swell with its hot, potent smell. He sniffed slightly and turned his back to Angel, waiting for the pounding to begin. When it didn't, he turned back cautiously. Angel was still removing sand from his mouth, but he was looking at Spike thoughtfully. `I'm sorry.'

Spike's eyes widened. `You are apologising to me?'

`Is that so strange?' Angel sat crossed legged on the sand alongside Spike, his head slightly tipped to one side.

`Well, yeah. It's a first.'

Angel smiled wryly. `Another first then... think I'll start a list, so I don't forget anything when we get back.'

`Don't worry, mate, I ain't gonna let you forget this one... look at me fucking arm.'

`Baby. I've done worse than that to you while I was asleep sometimes.'

`Abuser. It hurts. Bloody Wesley better be getting on trapping that demon.'

`Looking forward to getting home now?'

`Looking forward to having my own body back and beating the crap out of you, yeah.'

`I won't have any crap in me then....' He couldn't finish; they both had visions of their earlier foray into non-vampire sex and started to laugh. They lay on their backs next to each other on the sand, staring up into the night sky.

`Sorry, mate. I shouldn't `ave bitten your cock. That was dumb, but you can be so....`


`Irritating, I was gonna say, but yeah, biteable, too. All those soft fatty bits....'

Angel slapped him, but it was only in fun this time. `Speaking of which... another first.'


`Human hunger; I'm starving. What are you going to do about it... this is your house.'

`You ate all the food!'

`A minor point; feed me.'

`Marmite on marmite then, mate.'

`Fuck. I hope Wesley hurries up, too.'

Spike folded one arm behind his head and pulled Angel's head onto his chest with the other. He held him in a possessive embrace, kissing into the soft hair. `What you gonna do when you get back?'

Angel didn't hesitate. `Take you.'

`Uh huh. Wait `til Wesley and the Buff are gone, hey?'

`I might, see how desperate I am.'

`I meant, longer term, Angel.'

`I know you did. I don't know. I told you; I want you to stay. I meant it.... ` Angel felt Spike's arm tense, and he sat up, looking carefully at him. `I meant it, Spike. It wasn't a ploy just to keep you from slipping back into this reality. Is that what you thought?'

Angel didn't require a reply; Spike's face said it all. Angel pulled him against his chest. `When did you become so irresistible, Spike? What happened to the manic demon I could cheerfully have staked so many times?'

`He grew up, luv.'

`So, will you stay?'

Spike twisted in Angel's lap and straddled his legs. He placed a soft kiss on Angel's lips, grimacing slightly at the sand that still clung all around Angel's face. He started to brush it off, but Angel caught at his hand. `Spike?'

`I don't know, Angel. I'm not sure of anything yet. Let's get back and see, hey?' He saw Angel's face fall and tried to soften his words. `You may not want me when we get back. I'm planning to become very bitey, if you know what I mean.'

Angel distractedly pushed him off, but put a hand out to pull him to his feet. `Come on, I'm tired.'

Spike could tell that a fundamental shift had taken place in Angel's mood, but he didn't want to make promises he couldn't, or wouldn't keep. Swapping realities had made Spike question the fundamental things he had taken for granted about himself and his relationship with his sire. He genuinely didn't know what he wanted to do... other that get back to his own life, and his own body.

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |
| Home | Spike/Angel | Spike/Giles | Spike/Angel/Giles | Spike/Angel/Wesley | Gallery | Poems | Buttons |