Learning To Share - Chapter 21
I can't remember how many times he entered me. I can't distinguish one act from another. It's day now and I am alone. My head is pounding. I haven't had a headache in over two hundred years, and this one is…bad. I feel sick, disoriented. I know he is waiting for me. I know we are going to argue. I know all this and yet, I don't know how I know. And what is that persistent whispering I can hear just out of the range of my vampire hearing? Like soft girls' voices.
I lie back in the bed and try to enjoy the luxury of not having to get up. Not having to make any decisions. I have the strangest feeling that making decisions here is not my responsibility. That decisions are being made for me, elsewhere. I feel hard again. The warmth of the bed, the smell of our arousal permeating the sheets, the ache in my body from his body. I reach under the bed and find the magazine I know is there. I've seen these pictures before I think, but I can't remember where. I feel myself drifting back to sleep. But the candles are keeping me awake. But there are no candles here. I want to fall asleep. I want to be left alone. I want for this, not to be this, anymore.
I'm absolutely starving when I wake up. I feel incredibly sick, but empty sick. If I feed, maybe the voices will go away. I wander out to the living room and he's waiting for me with blood, as I knew he would be. I prop myself up on the counter and get my magazine out. I have to, it's what I do at this point in the script. Just as he comes over and pushes against me. Just as he takes me against the hard wood. It's what we do. It's what we've always done.
I think I've upset him. He wanted me to clean up. But I feel like I am dying. I mean really sick. Like I want to go back to bed, yet I've only just gotten up. I can still feel this awful restriction round my hand, like a tight band was cutting into me. I can hear the voices in my head all the time now. I'm dizzy. I'm sick. And he wants me to clean cum off the floor. I refuse, like I always refuse and he does it. Like he always does it. Nothing changing. A scripted event going round and round.
He wants to go out now. I don't want to. I know what is going to happen if we go out. But I don’t know enough to stop it.
We meet vampires. I fight. He fights. It's all there is. Him and me, together, forever. But when I turn to tell him this, he is gone and I am here.
Oh. He never mentioned it was Sunnydale. He never mentioned the cemetery. He never mentioned this bench. I've sat on this cold, damp bench hundreds of times with Buffy, on patrol. Don't think I ever sat here human before though. Because although in my head I am still me, I'm in a human body. It's looks like my body, only human. Doesn't feel like my body though. I still feel like me. I feel only a tenuous control over this body. No relation to it. Weird. No wonder Spike was a bit shook up when he came back. This place is…odd. And where's Spike? He's supposed to be here now. He's always here now.
Ahh, yes, there he is. I have to speak now. What is it I say? I always say it. Then we can go to Giles house. I like that bit. Because I used to be a Sire. I think. I used to have to think about sunlight and dying. But now I don’t. Now I think about going to Giles house. Because that's what we always do. We go to Giles house. We always do that.
I have to wait till he is drunk. Then he comes to me. The voices in my head are louder now telling me something I can't hear. The band around my hand so tight now I think I see a bruise forming, where there is nothing. In bed, out of bed, it's all the same, just him and me. But I don’t want to go out. If we go out then I think he won't be there. But we go, because we always go and he is my Sire and I am his Childe. And the voices so loud in my head, and I tell them that I do love, but I don’t understand. But I don't love enough, because I turn to him to tell him that I love, but he is not there and I am here. And I didn't know it would be Sunnydale. He never told me it was Sunnydale, but he will be here soon and he will be able to tell me then, because he is my Sire and I am his Childe. He has always been my Sire and I have always been his Childe even though I am not, yet. But I am, because I was there and he was there, but then I was here and I didn't know it would be Sunnydale. He never told me it would be Sunnydale and the voices are telling me it is not Sunnydale, but I know that it is. Because he is my Sire and I am his Childe. And he wants to go out, but I don't want to, because love is all there is. And he wants to run away from the fight, but I don't want to, because love is all there is. And I fight the vampire, because love is all there is. And as I turn to tell him that love is all there is, I put my hand out and pull him to me, tight against my body, one body, one crossbow bolt. Because love is all there is. And I love him.
I am back.
I am on my bed. I'm holding Spike tightly in my arms. He is whole and perfect. And looking at me.
I don’t often laugh and I don't often smile, but I do both now. As well as I can whilst kissing him with a fury and passion I haven't been able to indulge since this morning. Christ, he is so…pale. He needs feeding up. Wonder what substance I should start with. I ravish his mouth, plundering it. Every inch probed and explored. He tries to pull away and is frantically gesturing with his eyes. When I release him, he gives an embarrassed cough.
'Err…vampire bonding rituals then. Sire,' still casting glances to the side.
Oh, please don’t let me turn my head and find two employees, one watcher and two teenage girls watching me. Please.
Oh. 'Hello everyone. We're back.'
'So I see, Angel. Thank you for sharing that err…display, with me. Just what I needed after driving all the way from Sunnydale and performing a difficult spell. Yes, thank you for sharing, Angel.'
I can't resist. Having Spike in my arms makes me delirious, out of control. 'We've shared quite a lot with you actually, Giles.' I dig Spike surreptitiously in the ribs. He catches on really quickly.
'Oh. Yeah. Strawberries, luv. Shared yer love of strawberries.'
Giles is looking puzzled, but definitely more hesitant. 'Oh and hot throbbing members and a joy spot.' Oh, Spike is good at this. 'Big bullets of cream, too, mate, don't forget the cream.' I splutter, I can't stop. Giles' face is a picture of slowly dawning comprehension. Spike doesn’t help, he's rolling around the bed in helpless giggles.
'So don't lecture me, Giles. But thank you for helping. Seriously. Thank you.' Oh God, I'm losing it again, 'I'll pay for the stuff we pawned.' That's it, I'm gone. I'm laughing so hard, I need to breathe, and then can't, because I'm laughing too hard.
I lay on my back as the humans hastily retreat to the living room. Spike lays his head on my stomach staring at the ceiling with me.
'Why were they here? What's been happening here, Angel?'
'Oh. Well why are we tied together with my belt?'
'Dunno. Don't care.'
'Oh. Well, are you going to untie it and let me go sometime soon?'
'Oh. Are you going to stop sounding like me then?'
'Angel. Shut up and shag me.'
I do it with pleasure. And if, as I enter his tight, so desired entrance, I whisper, 'let me into your red hot tunnel,' if I turn his hysterical laughter into groaning my name, if later I reduce him to helpless tears when I ask him if I've found his joy spot, if, as I cum in great spurts of cold seed I murmur, 'moon-shot, the eagle has landed,' well, that's my prerogative. Isn't it?
Because even though we have learnt to share the fighting, the working, the humans, the pain, our lives, perhaps, most importantly, now we've learnt to share laughter and fun. Because, ultimately, all else fades to naught except that. Except love so deep you are willing to share yourself.
Love so deep, you are willing to share yourself.