Jubilee - Chapter 2
To be fair to Giles, he had not intended to crush
Spike's fingers until they broke, nor to display the fag-basher's nose across
his face. He had had absolutely no idea of Angel's power and strength. He had
not realised that Angel had been restrained when he had tortured him almost
to death. Knowing the strength in these hands and arms now, he realised that
Angel had touched him as one would piece of Chinese rice paper, with delicate
care and caution, in case it irrevocably tore. That Angel had made the torture
last so long, was a testament to his restraint.
He walked alongside Spike, hearing the stars. He felt the moonlight on his face. He saw into the hearts of the humans that passed him, each one's petty secrets laid out for his perusal. That man had not had sex for many years. That one had just eaten a curry and would soon be sick. That one had had sex with his daughter, their shared DNA loud on his body.
He turned to Spike. He had thought Spike seductive. He had thought him handsome. Now, with Angel's vision, he saw him as a mythical creature of power and dark light. He could smell Spike's strength. He could hear Spike's thoughts, faintly, like you hear distant traffic. He could feel the way the night air moved out of Spike's way as he walked, bowing to his superiority.
Giles laughed, he couldn't help it. He had taken Angel's body; he had taken Angel's eternal life and, in taking both those, he had taken Spike. And he would not have him now for only one night. Spike would not pack his bags and leave. Spike would not seduce, tease, control, and destroy him now... the very opposite in fact. That's exactly what Giles intended to do to Spike.
He followed Spike back to the hotel and was impressed by its elegance. He followed him up to the suite they shared. He watched as Spike shed his duster and went out on the balcony to smoke. Spike leant up against the rail, watching Giles for a while.
Giles didn't trust himself to speak. He wanted to take the cigarette and stub it out on Spike's skin; he wanted to hear him howl. He wanted to see him cry. More than anything, Giles wanted to see Spike cry and see if his tears were the same as the ones he had been shedding for the last month.
Spike threw his cigarette out into the night air and came up to Giles. He put his arms under his duster and just laid his head on Giles’ chest.
'I hope the Watcher's okay. Do you think we could find out where they've taken 'im and call or something?'
'Why do you care?' Giles was amazed that he spoke with Angel's voice; it made him feel sick and disoriented.
Spike raised his head, stepped away from Giles, stripped off his T-shirt, and threw it carelessly onto the floor. 'Don't start on that again, Angel. I told you, he was….' Spike turned and gave Giles a cheeky look. 'He was morish.'
'Yeah, come on, Angel. You remember, like chocolate or peanuts. Morish. Once you've had one, you want another, and another, and then some more 'til you're sick. Well, that's what he was like. I wanna be sick.'
'You want to be sick on… on the Watcher?'
'Angel, what's wrong with you? It's like talking to a bleeding dummy. Duh! No! I don’t want to be sick on him; I want to have him enough so I'm full of 'im, that's all.'
'So, it wasn’t all a lie? You really enjoyed sleeping with… Rupert Giles?'
'Oooh, sleeping with! I'm gonna have to get you out of Bath, pet. Take you to fucking Sunderland. You've become a little bit too posh here, mate. Yeah, I loved fucking Giles, I told you that.'
'What are you doing?'
'What does it look like I'm bleeding doing? I'm warming up some food.'
'Oh. Is that for me?'
'No, it's for the spaziod I seem to have come back from the pub with. Here you go.' Spike handed Giles a mug of hot blood. It was fascinating. His rational mind said, 'If I even smell that, I'm going to be sick' whereas his body seemed to plunge into the liquid and find its home there.
He took a sip. Rational mind won over for a minute. He took deep breaths but couldn’t quite get the breathing muscles to work and ended up sounding as if he had run a marathon. He stopped breathing and realised, for the first time, that he had not been breathing at all since taking over this body. He had never even noticed.
Spike was watching him with a suspicious look on his face. 'You pillock, Angel. I go to all this effort to treat you to human blood, and you're going all broody and guilty on me… hey, where you going, pet?'
Giles ran for the bathroom and made it to the toilet bowl just in time to see a huge heave of red liquid shoot out of his mouth. He had thought the fresh blood in the mug was sickening enough; he had no idea just how bad puked up blood from a vampire's stomach could be. He retched and retched and retched, until he felt almost weak from nausea, and the whole time his body screamed at him and wanted to lick that splattered blood from the porcelain.
He heard Spike come in behind him and felt a cool hand on his forehead. He took the wet cloth that Spike wordlessly handed him and sat back against the bathtub. Spike crouched down in front of him, his head tipped on one side. Then Spike stretched out his hand, clearly expecting Giles to take it. So, he did; he stretched out his hand and took Spike's fingers in his. He actually felt a physical jolt of desire deep in his belly at this lightest of touches. Spike pulled him to his feet and led him back to the bedroom.
He sat Giles down on the bed and squatted in front of him, a worried look on his face. ‘You okay? I’ve never seen you be sick before... well, not since you ate that guy with leprosy once. I can still see your face when his nose fell off as you bit ‘im.’
If this comment was supposed to be comforting, it didn’t really work on Giles. He started feeling nauseous again, knew it was all in his mind, so forced it down.
Spike got up and sat behind him on the bed. He started to massage Giles’ shoulders and rub his thumbs into his hairline. Giles felt stiff and on-guard. He felt, acutely, that this was not his body and thought that Spike must feel it, too. Apparently, he did not, because he leant down and started to nuzzle into Giles neck, placing light, erotic kisses across the exposed flesh.
Giles was more confused than he thought it possible to be. This was not how he had imagined the vampires’ relationship would be. This is not what he had been led to believe it would be from all his Council research. This was not insane, blood-lust sex. This was not perversion and evil. These were loving, soft kisses. This was someone relaxed and in love. This was Spike, and he seemed laid bare and vulnerable.
Giles glanced at Angel’s watch and realised how much time had passed since he had affected the swap.
Spike had now started to undress him slowly but, as much as Giles wanted him to continue, he stopped Spike’s hand.
'Not now. We're leaving.'
'What! What do you mean, Angel?'
'We're leaving the city. I've got… I want to go somewhere else.'
'Err… new game?'
Giles didn’t understand this, but ventured a hesitant reply, 'Yes, new game.' He was pleased when Spike climbed off the bed, pulled his T-shirt back on and started to stuff clothes into bags.
Giles did not know how long it would take Angel to convince the hospital that he was sane enough and well enough to be released but, knowing Angel, he did not think it would take long. He knew exactly where Angel would come first, and he wanted to be well away before he did. He had left no money in his clothes, no wallet, no keys: nothing that Angel could use to his advantage. Unless he hitched, he would have to walk from the hospital. Giles had worn his very stiff and very uncomfortable shoes that evening. He grinned to himself, imagining Angel having his first blisters in three hundred years.
'Come on then, poof. I'm ready; where're we going?'
Giles led Spike slowly through the city to where he had parked the hire car. He had the feeling, that any minute, he would see his shabby, faded body limp around a corner and hail them. He was amazed that Spike acquiesced so easily to this change of plan. He filed away the phrase, 'New game' for future use. It seemed to make Spike docile, willing to be led, and silent. Giles liked Spike docile, willing to be led, and silent. It was rather novel.
Giles suddenly had one of those revelatory moments that make you stand still for a minute. In all his planning, he had thought only of himself, only of 'Rupert Giles' and Spike. He had taken Angel's body only to give him physical power over Spike. It had not really occurred to him that now he was Angel. As far as Spike was concerned, he was his sire, Angel. He had psychological power over Spike, too. Spike would be willing, docile, and silent, if he was told to be those things.
Giles decided to try out his new power. 'Carry this bag, Spike.'
'Err, Spike, I said carry my bag for me.'
Spike stopped and stared at Giles, his jaw visibly hanging open. 'You what? You fat-ass-poncy-fag-hag-wanking-fucking-nancy-boy-shit-stacker. How fucking dare you.'
This was not quite how Giles had imagined vampire sires were treated by their childer. He tried again. 'New game... carry my bag?'
Spike tipped his head back and laughed. 'Yeah, new game you suck my dick, new game. Pillock. Where's this car then?'
Giles gave up and decided to save the psychological mastery of Spike, until he gained physical mastery of him. That would not be long now.
Spike sat complacently in the front seat. It was clear to Giles, that he completely trusted him. It sent a delicious tingle down his spine to his unbelievably hard cock. He had never had an erection like this one as a human. As if reading his thoughts, Spike suddenly snaked out a hand and put it on the front of Angel’s leather jeans. Giles was amazed by the casual way he did it, as if he did this all the time, and it was completely natural. With a rueful smile at his naivety, Giles realised that Spike probably did do this all the time.
Spike slipped his hand inside the pants and scratched a fingernail over the soft tip of Giles' cock. He gasped and swerved the car a little.
'I was going to say how much your bloody driving had improved since yesterday, pet. But now I'm not so sure. No points for hitting rabbits. They're too easy. Remember, prams maximum score, rabbits bottom. Or maybe hedgehogs. What do you reckon?'
Giles couldn’t speak, because Spike had now released him completely from his pants and was working him determinedly with his fist.
Spike kept up a casual conversation the whole time he brought Giles off. He chatted about the car; he commented on the road; he asked where they were going; he told a few jokes; he sang along to the radio, and he abused his sire in colourful, explicit language.
This was exactly the companion that Giles had made up in his head. This was the Spike of their first night, when they had gone to the pub, and Spike had played darts. This was the Spike that had really seduced him. Not the one who had sucked him, entered him, and left him. This one. The one who was funny, engaging, and irresistible.
He did not speak at all, until he felt a swelling in his balls like a surge behind a dam. He thought he might burst. He managed to gasp 'Mess' just before Spike's head came down on him and swallowed the entire flood of cum that this amazing vampire body produced. With a frisson of excitement, Giles realised that Spike had timed that move to perfection. That he had known, just as clearly as Giles had done, exactly when he was going to come. The intimacy this implied between Angel and his childe made Giles confused and envious.
All of this unnerved Giles. Literally. He felt his nerve going. This was not what he had planned when he had flown to LA and started following and watching Angel. He had only meant to find a way to hurt them both, and to destroy their power over people. Finding the old man, and sharing his knowledge, had been a bonus.
Then he had meant only to swap bodies with Angel and use Angel's power against Spike. He had wanted to see Spike's face when, after days of torture and pain, thinking that Angel had turned against him, Spike realised that he had been played. Giles wanted to see if Spike had reserves of strength to draw upon, as he had been required to do. This whole experience, however, had started to badly unnerve him.
Spike's assertion at the station that he wanted him had been confirmed. Giles had thought it a lie, but Spike had confirmed it this evening. Morish, he was morish, apparently, like chocolate.
Spike and Angel together were quite unlike Giles had imagined them to be. Spike was relaxed, charming and funny. He was everything Giles wanted and envied Angel for having. Giles began to wonder if he really wanted to chain Spike up and torture him. He began to doubt that he wanted to destroy him. He almost began to feel that he would rather hold him, kiss him, and enter him… and now, of course, he had Angel's body to do that with. No more weak erections that surprised him every time they stayed hard enough to penetrate tight holes. He was hard already only minutes after a vast, satisfying release, and he felt that this was the norm for Angel’s body.
So, Giles' plans changed dramatically as he drove towards his destination. He had not planned much beyond a final, ritual staking of the bleeding, crying, despairing Spike.
Now he began to wonder what living in LA would be like.
He wondered if he could carry it off. If he could fool Spike, then maybe he could fool others less intimately acquainted with Angel. Spike seemed totally unaware of any change. Giles blessed Angel's naturally taciturn nature. He doubted anyone could take over Spike's body and get away with it.
He laughed suddenly, and Spike looked up from the map he had been studying intently.
'What's up? We nearly there yet? I'm bored with this game,'
Giles indicated on the map. 'There. That's where we're going.'
Spike peered and turned the map upside-down to see if that helped. 'Err… that's the sea, Angel.'
After another hour they pulled up outside an isolated cottage on the edge of a small, shingle beach. Spike got out of the car and looked around at the loneliness of their location.
'Okay, this game’s getting a bit spooky now, Angel. Not liking this much. Where's the friggin' shops and the pubs?'
'Trust me.' Giles missed the withering look thrown in his direction. He opened up the cottage and went in to see if all the supplies he had ordered had been arranged. He had never realised how useful being a Council member could be.
Spike did not come in after him. When Giles went to check, there was no sign of him. He looked anxiously around, searched the obvious places, and then went back into the house. He was extremely relieved, a few minutes later, when Spike came and stood in the doorway.
'Where have you been?'
'Went for a pee.'
It was only later on that evening, that Giles realised he had been expected to laugh at this: that this was what went for a joke in the vampire community.
'Well?' Spike stood and stared at him.
Spike tipped his head on one side, as if studying him. 'Invite me in, why don’t you.'
Giles cursed under his breath. 'Yes, of course. Come in.' He hoped that Spike would assume that Angel’s body had already been invited in by the owner of this cottage when he rented it. He would have to be more careful.
Spike sauntered in and started rummaging around.
Giles thought about the spell he had prepared… a reverse, vampire exclusion spell. He had planned this moment. Get Spike inside and trap him. He almost said the words, but Spike suddenly turned and grabbed him, and kissed him deeply. He pushed him backwards over the kitchen table. He lifted his thigh to rub it over Giles’ groin. He started to lick the inside of Giles' mouth. He moved his hands under Giles' shirt and tweaked the nipples of his chest.
None of this was at all like the kisses Spike had given to Giles' human self. This was entirely different. Then, he had seemed to be trying to prove something. Now, he kissed softly and intimately; now he kissed like a familiar lover. Giles could have cried from the intimacy of this kiss.
Spike pulled away, stripped off his T-shirt and raised an eyebrow at Giles, then suddenly said, 'Swim?'
'What?' Giles could not help but respond with the reaction of a middle-aged, English man.
'Swim, luv. You, me, water, moonlight, alone, erections, ex-erections? Last one in's a poof.'
Spike began to tear at the laces in his boots. He cursed, hopping around the kitchen, trying to rip them off. Giles started to laugh.
He was having fun.
He had wanted screaming and blood and pain and revenge… but he was having fun.
He slipped effortlessly out of Angel's shoes and clothes, and ran out into the night, hollering and laughing at the moon. He didn't feel cold. He didn't feel pain, as he ran barefoot over the sharp shingle. Okay, he felt the intense cold of the Atlantic, as he plunged through the surf and swam out into the deep, still ocean, but the pain did not last long.
He turned on his back and watched the moon. This was utterly surreal. He felt almost like a God… like a master of the universe. No wonder these vampires sometimes appeared arrogant. He felt as superior to his human self, as that self had felt superior to a tiny child. Such power, such strength, such… ugg. He was rudely dragged under the dark, silent water. He panicked, as any human would, until his body reminded him that he didn't need to breathe.
He relaxed in Spike's arms, felt Spike diving between his legs, then surfaced and screamed out his delight to the night sky. He screamed another way when he felt Spike swallowing his erection. Giles hung straight down in the water, and Spike fastened onto him like a pale, blond barnacle. It didn't take long. The combination of the moonlight, the heady sense of power and the freedom he felt, sent another load of cum into Spike. Giles wondered how many times these two vampires indulged themselves like this. He had a feeling he was only beginning to understand the sexual power he now possessed.
Spike surfaced, grinning at him, then turned on his back and starfished his limbs to the night sky.
'Wish Giles was here.'
'What!' Giles started a nervous doggy paddle around in a far too human way.
'This is just the sort of place he'd like. I bet if he owned a cottage, it'd be like this. Such a contrast to Sunnydale, and I guess that's what he'd want now… to forget. To rest.'
'Spike, you know nothing about him. You never gave him the time of day in Sunnydale. What's this new-found interest in m… Giles all of a sudden?'
'That's not true, Angel, and you know it. I could have killed him loads of times if I'd have wanted to, before I had this bloody chip. But he was okay, Angel. You were just jealous of him.'
'Jealous! Don't be ridiculous, what could… what could I possibly be jealous of him about?'
Spike turned over and started to swim slowly towards the shore. Giles swam alongside him. 'She loved Giles much more that she ever loved you, and you knew it.'
'Shut up.' Giles could not bear to hear this of Buffy. He did not want to hear Spike's twisted version of their relationship. He had sullied that memory enough himself.
'What's wrong, Angel… not like that, you pillock… she loved your dick… but she loved him like a father. She adored him. She needed him.'
Giles felt tears prick his eyes. When had he ever noticed Spike being perceptive? When had he noticed Spike being kind? He thought, perhaps, he had always noticed these qualities, but he had ignored them because they did not fit in with the view he needed to have of this evil creature.
As they emerged from the surf and started walking together up the beach, Spike put his arm over Giles' shoulder in a friendly gesture. 'Giles was the only one who would help me, Angel, when I had this chip. He should have staked me. It was his job, and what I deserved, I guess. But he didn't; he took me in, fed me, let me watch his TV, looked after me. Hell, he put up with me… and I wasn't the pleasant, easy-going bloke I am now.'
Giles found himself actually feeling guilty now. This was NOT what he had intended at all. He tried to regain some ground, tried to remind himself what he had done all this for. He spat back, bitterly, 'If you like him so much, why did you take such trouble to destroy his life last month?'
Spike took hold of his arm, stopping him. He gave him a quizzical look. 'Destroy?'
'Well, he may have seen it like that. Isn't that what you intended?'
'Err, seems I remember a certain poofy, hair-gelled, vampire, betting me fifty pounds I couldn't seduce a certain Rupert Giles. Don't remember it being my idea at all.'
'You were the one who came here and fucked him, though.'
'I made love to him, Angel. I told you that. At first… okay… I sucked and fucked him… at first. But not at the end. When I felt him wake up on me, I could have held him to me and made him mine. I really wanted to, Angel, but you said I had to piss him around like that.'
Giles was completely overwhelmed by this heartfelt speech from Spike. As he had no knowledge of Angel's part in the scheme, he was at a loss how to answer. One thing he did know, though, the words of that entrapment spell were fading from his mind with every word Spike spoke.
He tried to picture that small medal clasped in those young fingers, tried to shore up his anger and hatred but, looking at Spike now, he knew he could not. He did not hate Spike. He did not hate him at all.
He gave in to his desire and pulled Spike into his arms. 'Let's not fight over the Watcher, hey?' He kissed Spike, tasted the salt on his lips, tasted another salty essence on the walls of his mouth and groaned into the kiss. 'Want to warm up a bit?'
Spike laughed and stared to pull away. 'Race you to the shower!'
It seemed to Giles that Spike almost flew up the beach toward the cottage. He laughed and stared to run, too. He caught him up and tried to tackle him down. They wrestled, and Giles felt Spike's strength under him. He wanted to put Angel's body to the test, but not in the tortures he had planned and prepared. He wanted to test this superb, beautiful body in other ways now. He gave Spike a violent, passionate kiss then punched him lightly in the belly, jumped up and ran first through the door.
His glee at winning was too much for a vampire that must be used to winning every physical contest he had ever been in, so he tried to calm down before Spike joined him. They made their way up to the bathroom, and Giles broke the news to Spike that, being England and quaint, the cottage had no shower.
Spike didn't seem to mind. He seemed entranced by the huge, Victorian bath that stood in the middle of the room, raised up on claw feet that had reminded Giles of the claws on gargoyles. It was one of the reasons he had bought this monstrosity from the architectural salvagers in Bath.
Giles turned on the taps and filled the bath with scalding hot water and poured in a selection of oils. When he had bought this cottage, he had had vague notions of romantic weekends with a nice girl who would like walks on the beach and reading in the evening. Once or twice, he had pictured that featureless girl taking a bath in this room whilst he lay waiting for her in the bed. It was a chaste, romantic fantasy. One that now made him smile.
Spike climbed into the water, cursing at the temperature. He leant forward, and Giles realised he was supposed to slide in behind him. Again, the intimacy and familiarity this implied between these two vicious demons quite took his breath away. Breath he no longer had and had quite forgotten to miss.
He took the invitation and slid in behind Spike. He had never, ever shared a bath with anyone before. Spike laid his head back on Giles' chest and passed him a bottle of shampoo. Giles realised, with a smile of pleasure, that he was supposed to wash Spike's hair for him. He had never, ever washed anyone's hair before either.
He laughed quietly at the thought that he was now taking a bath and washing Spike's hair when he had planned to be beating, whipping, and tearing him. He could not say that he was too worried by the change.
Spike played quietly with the washcloth, tying it into knots, making it float, then sinking it with pretend missiles. Giles massaged the shampoo in and rinsed it out a few times. Spike's quiet words caught him off-guard. 'So, pet, when do the games begin?'
Spike twisted around to look at him. 'Yeah, the games, you said new game… well?'
'Does everything have to be a game between us?'
Spike looked puzzled. 'It can be whatever you want it to be, Angel. You know that. I'm not the one who needs them, remember?'
'Why do I need them?'
Spike was quiet for a moment, and Giles thought he would not answer, but he suddenly said in a sad voice, 'No one could understand, could they, Angel? What it's like for us. In these bodies… such power and such desires, but neutered. How could anyone else understand that unless they'd been human like us and then found themselves in such a body?'
Giles thought this answered his question quite effectively. He began to see Angel in a new light, too. He lifted one hand and looked at it. He knew he could crush a human to death with those fingers. He looked at the forearm… what power it contained. His whole body felt as if it were carved out of fluid marble. It was incredible. Yet Angel restrained and withheld and contained this power. It was an impressive act of control, and Giles had never appreciated it before. With Spike, however, Giles knew Angel could unleash his desires. With Spike, Angel could be free. He felt bold and risked a quiet question, 'New game?'
Spike hissed in pleasure. 'Yeah, new game.…'
'Spike….' Giles could almost feel the dead heart of this stolen body beating in fear. 'I had my body stolen, in LA.'
Spike gave Giles an unreadable look. 'Yeah, I know, you told me.'
Giles closed his eyes, hoping he could recover well. 'I know I did… well, new game… I'm not me; I'm that old man in my body.'
Spike pursed his lips and wrinkled his nose a bit. 'Don't really fancy thinking of an old man inside you, Angel. Seems a bit… unnatural, even for a vampire.'
'Well, all right, who would you want to be in here?'
Spike suddenly perked up and showed a spark of interest in this game. 'Hmm… Harris?'
'Xander Harris, surely not?'
'Two days ago, Angel, you claimed you'd had him over your car.'
Giles almost squeaked and covered by pretending to laugh. 'Err, not Xander. Someone else.'
'Oh, hey… Wesley?'
'No, certainly not, how unpleasant.'
'Angel, I think you've been in England too long. If I closed my eyes, I could swear I had bloody Wesley in here with me now!'
'Not him. Choose again.' Giles was beginning to get rather peeved that, for all Spike's earlier protestations of affection for him, he had been rejected in favour of that ghastly teenager and the ponce, Wesley. 'What about Giles?' Damn it, if Spike couldn't get there, he'd bloody well prompt him.
'Giles inside you now.'
'Well, what do you think about that as a game?'
'You'd never be able to carry it off, you git. You couldn't do Giles to save your life. You'd be reaching for that poofy hair gel of yours before I'd even opened you up.'
'I would not, and I think I could manage to impersonate one mild, intelligent Englishman.'
Spike seemed to find this unnecessarily funny, but suddenly lifted himself up and out of the bath, pulling Giles with him.
'Come on, Giles, time to show you what you can do with your new, Angel body.