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Remember Me - Chapter 19

It was like walking into a train smash. There seemed to be blood everywhere: Spike’s blood. A deep trail of it going across one way to a body, then criss-crossing back and over the floor like he was trying to draw a pentagram in blood. Then him, naked except for a red...no, a blood soaked towel, his face battered, bruised and bleeding, blood running down his legs, not from the chest wound, Cordelia weeping, Wesley stumbling...good God, I’d only gone out for an hour, just to buy Spike some new pants. I had felt guilty...well, I wanted him to have new ones anyway, so only an hour and I come back to find my tiny family smashed.

I don’t think Spike even knew it was me that caught him. He was trying to pull the other two up the stairs because he kept telling them it was what I would have wanted. He was completely out of it, delirious. I will tell him one day, that no way would I have wanted his bloody, broken body anywhere but in bed, being cared for by me.

I got the story from Cordelia. She calmed down enough to tell me the key facts. That I was dead and that, so too, was Riley. That I was dead: that Spike thought I was dead. That Spike had been beaten, raped and staked by Riley and that he thought I was dead. Yet he had been leading my friends to safety. For all that, Spike had thought of them first, as if he were me. As if he has started to become me.

I couldn’t love him more at this moment. I couldn’t be more proud.

But a what pillock he is sometimes. I’m really torn between feeling proud and loving him and wanting to bloody smack him. How on earth could he have believed that I could be dusted by that heap of green, useless, shit in the corner? I could have defeated him when I was human, let alone as a two hundred and fifty year old Master Vampire. But then I’ve never really let Spike see just how powerful I am. Never had too, I can skate through most things hardly having to wake up. Maybe one day I will show him, just to reassure him.

I’m not too worried about the wound, it’s nothing that Spike won’t recover from in a few hours, and especially when I get him alone and give him my blood. I’m not as confident about his mental state though. I can only imagine how he would feel, thinking I’d been dusted.

I lay him gently down on the bed whilst Cordelia and Wesley fetch clean towels, bandages and some blood to start the healing process. I really wish they’d just go and leave us alone but I want them here too. They need me, and I need them. It’s right.

I stroke Spike’s hair softly. Last time I did this it led immediately to sex. Spike, you impetuous Childe, what made you think he had killed me? As if.

After half an hour, there’s no more that my friends can do. They seem to have moved into a bit of an Angel-is-still-alive, hysteria and want to go and celebrate, or it could be Cordelia is finally feeling the effects of having killed Riley. It’s hard to tell with her sometimes, she’s so tough on the outside. I tell them I’ll take care of the body and tell them to go. I have my own plans for a little celebration soon when this idiot wakes up.

When I’m sure they’ve gone, I cast a rueful look at the poor ruined floor, drop the green shit down the hatch into the sewers where it belongs and make my way back into my stupid Childe on the bed.

He looks so peaceful and sweet I could...I could...I could kill him for putting himself through this.

I slide under him in the bed and pull his soft, lifeless form into my arms. In full game face I slash open my wrist and press it to Spike’s lips whilst opening up his mouth with my other hand. I run a small pool of blood in and stroke his throat, forcing him to swallow. His lips are starting to heal already; his throat looks red and angry. He coughs and tries to pull away but I continue and use a fraction of that Sire strength I’ve kept from him so far.

A few more swallows of that rare, precious liquid and he starts to come round. I don’t know what to expect, I expect fear, anger, pain, delight I guess at seeing me...I didn’t expect total denial. He opens his eyes, sees me leaning over him, turns into my stomach and just crushes me to him, burying his face, no sound, and no movement.

I try to pry him away from me but I don’t want to hurt him more or open up his deep chest wound again so I let him be. If this is what he wants and needs I’ll let it be for a while. I get comfortable on the bed and just start talking.

‘Hey, Spike...guess what I got you. At the mall. Yeah, you bugger, I went to the Mall for you and it was hideous. Hideous. But I bought you some new pants. Did you know how expensive leather stuff is? I never knew, I thought it would be cheap, all those dead cows and stuff. But it’s a complete rip off. Worth it though. For you. Well, for me really. I hope they fit. Better than the pair you bought anyway. Didn’t think I’d come home to a bloodbath though. Bit of a shock.’

I think I hear a mumbled reply to this, muffled by lips being pressed tightly into my shirt.

‘What did you say...I didn’t quite catch that?’

He sits up at last staring at me, his voice nothing more than a raw whisper. ‘Not half the fucking shock it was to me, Mate.’

He’s going for bravado, but I can hear his pain calling to me. This was bad for him, very bad. It makes me furious to think of it.

‘What the hell did you believe him for Spike...are you totally stupid?’

‘Stupid? You fucking wanker, Angel...’ his voice rises in pitch with outrage which starts off a prolonged coughing fit. When he recovers, he glares at me with total misery in his beautiful features, ‘he told me he’d dusted you easily, cus you were distracted by hearing that I’d been killed.’


‘Angel, he told me that he told you he’d dusted me. That’s what got you...you kind of ran onto his stake then, he said. Oh yeah, guess I was stupid to believe that news of my death would upset you like that. Sorry for being such a tosser then, LUV.’

He goes to struggle off the bed trying to make me suffer his petulant outburst but I use a little more of that undreamt of Vampire strength and hold him effortlessly to me.

‘Shut up Spike. I would have thought that if I’d believed him, you know I would. But I would never have believed him in the first place. Why the hell would I believe him? It doesn’t make any sense; I’d have come down here, with his head in my hands and checked first. Before I staked myself.’

Mollified a bit by the thought of me staking myself, he lies back down with his head in my lap, content to let me baby him for a while. I rub his temples, stroke his hair, run my fingers down his nose and across those stunning cheekbones. I adjust the bandage across his chest a bit although it doesn’t really need it. He’s quiet for a while, clearly working up to tell me something. I let him take his time. We have all the time in the world. Finally, with a sigh he tells me.

‘He said he showed you this.’ He opens his fist and clutched tightly in his hand is my ring. ‘He told me that he’d shown you this as proof; that he picked it out of my dust.’

‘Okay,’ I’m trying to think this through now, ‘how did he get that, Spike?’

‘Well there you are, see.’ There’s a note of self-satisfaction in his voice now as if he’s proving an important point and winning this argument. ‘That’s my point. I lost it...he stole it from me...when I was in the Initiative but I didn’t tell you. See? I lied. So I knew that if you had seen him with it, you’d have thought there was only way he could have gotten it...’

He trails off. I’m making small peaks and spikes in his sticky hair now, mulling all this over.



‘Have you actually ever seen a Vampire being dusted?’

‘What sort of stupid fucking question is that now? Course I have you poof.’

‘Oh. So the ones you saw, being dusted, they had little bits falling intact out of their pockets did they? You know, lighters, phones, condoms, money...bloody Sire’s rings.’


‘Yeah, you idiot.’ I slap him lightly, but distinctly across the head. ‘If he’d have told me a stupid fucking story like that...that the ring survived your dusting, I’d have died laughing, Spike, not from a stake.’

‘Oh God. Beam me up Scotty.’

And with that cryptic comment that is totally lost on me, he buries his face into my stomach again and refuses to come out.

But I reckon I’m due a little celebration now. After all, I have survived yet another Spike induced near heart attack even if my heart can’t beat and technically can’t stop either. Whatever, it was a shock seeing everything so destroyed so quickly. Seeing all that blood. And I’ve a dead body to get rid of and a ruined, extremely expensive wooden floor.

‘I’m billing you for the floor by the way.’

Mumbled comment that has a lot of ‘f’ letters in it.

‘Fancy trying on your new stuff then?’

A pause in the intensity of the burying. ‘Don’t ever let anyone accuse you of being insensitive will you Luv. I’ve just been buggered, had to give an extremely unwelcome blowjob and heard you’d been staked...oh, and I am putting those in the order they upset me...and you want to play fuck games with me, now? You are incredible sometimes Angel.’

‘All the time, Spike. All the time.’ I push him off my lap, run into the living room to retrieve the bags I left there and bring them back in to show him what I bought him. I do have incredibly good taste. In lovers and in clothes. He picks up the stuff and runs his hands over it. He opens his mouth to speak, but doesn’t get the chance, I’m lost already. He doesn’t even need to put any of it on. It would only come straight off anyway.

I pull him till he is sitting opposite me and dive urgently at his mouth. I hear him mumbling again about being seriously injured and mentally scarred for life.

‘It’s like getting back on a horse when you’ve come off, Spike, you’ve got to do it right away.’ I say with a slight smirk.

‘Ow! Careful there Pet, I’m damaged.’

I was going to retort, only mentally, but I’m too busy kissing him. I push the clothes away and slide my hand between his legs. I know he won’t want me inside him just yet, but no reason I can’t make him feel better other ways. I take his soft balls in the palm of my hand and push them up gently, then stretch them down. He hisses in pleasure and lies carefully down on his back, easing the bandages across his wound more comfortably. I lower my face to his cock. It’s not fully hard. The first time ever I have come to his cock and not found it hard. It’s the only real indication he’s given me of just how much the news of my death must have shocked him.

I’ll have to try to catch him soft again one day because this is incredibly erotic. I’m actually making this cock swell and engorge with blood by the merest feel of my tongue on the tip, by the lightest of licks across the slit, by the gentlest of tugs on the foreskin. It makes me hard, playing with him; having this much power over him.

Spike arches his back slightly, but the movement obviously hurts him because his hands fly to his chest and his face creases in pain.

‘Shall I stop? Maybe this is the wrong time.’ Oh God, perhaps I am an insensitive beast. I genuinely thought he needed this.

He just looks at me and raises that scarred eyebrow in that way he has that makes my spine tingle and my world collapse into the space he occupies.

‘Not wrong time Luv, wrong person.’ He gingerly lifts himself up and pushes me back onto the bed and starts giving me the loving treatment I was trying to give him.

‘Spike...you can’t...this is too much for you...’

‘Shut up pillock. NOTHING, NOTHING would stop me doing this now, not even you.’ He looks me straight in the eye with those incredibly blue, intense eyes of his. ‘You will never know what it was like for me, I’ll never be able to tell you Angel how I felt when I thought you were gone. Now I know you’re not, I am never, ever going to let you out of my sight again or give you a hard time or not take every opportunity I get to do...this.’

He opens my pants and pushes the soft material away from my weeping cock. He takes me in one go, no preparation, no licking or playing; just a deep throating that makes me shudder right through my body. His teeth bite around the base of my shaft, the soft tip of my cock rubs against the back wall of his throat. The pleasure is so sudden, so exquisite, that I dig my fingers into his hair and moan, incoherent but desperate.

‘Oh Spike...don’t, too much, I’m going to cum too soon.’ I try to push him away, to slow him down but he’s practically eating me alive, his lips pumping up and down my shaft, his tongue flicking over the tip and pushing eagerly into the slit. I respond with a swelling, crashing orgasm that makes me rear back in the bed. I know I’m screaming his name but I can’t stop, I’ve never cum this fast and hard before. I’ll die if this ever stops, I want to feel myself pumping into his mouth forever, and I want to know he is drinking me down. I seem to spurt cum forever, his sucking drawing more and more out, my cock throbbing, my balls responding with a deep, blissful climax. He senses the moment when it is over and would start to become painful so turns his sucking into light licking, his movements slow and languid.

But not for long, as soon as he feels my body relax, he starts working on me again, light licks across the open slit, deep probing around the base of my shaft and hands and fingers working my balls. After a few moments of this delight, I feel his cold fingers easing and pushing the muscle around my tight entrance and even I can’t believe it when I start to get hard again. I feel the snigger coming from the, oh so badly injured Vampire attached to my cock. He’s recovering quickly.

‘Told you Spike…just like riding…you just got to do it…ahh, just there, press there again…oh, yeah, again, Spike, fuck, Spike…’ he’s found that spot with his finger. He works right on it for a while, then just off to one side, torturing me, making me beg him to touch it again. The stretch around my hole is tantalising, I want more, something bigger and harder to stretch me more, but I don’t want to ask him, I know he’s not ready for that yet. He works his fingers in a scissor motion inside me and I almost cum there and then. I sit up a bit so I can see his hand, it’s so erotic watching it disappearing into me, seeing how stretched I am, watching his intent face as he knows the pleasure he is giving me. I lie back down and just go with the feelings. All those years without this. What a waste. My stomach is being covered by a stream of cold precum, he slides up a bit and catches my cock in his mouth, drinking down that precious fluid, licking it back around the tip of my cock, pushing it down into the foreskin. All I can think about is release, all I want is that crashing, intense pouring out of my seed.

I know any minute now I’m going to be screaming his name again. He is calling my name, faintly, insistently.

Hang on.

He’s got my cock in his mouth. That’s can’t be Spike. That’s not even male. That’s female.

Oh shit.

‘Spike, stop…now…get off…get into bed properly…cover up…stop…no…Spike!’

I leap off his mouth, his fingers and the bed in one move. It’s like being unplugged. Well, I did plan to show Spike some real moves soon. I can’t get my cock in enough to zip up. I have to muster all my self-control to stop my imminent explosion, to soften enough to get decent. I push Spike gently onto his back and try to stuff him under the sheet.


I hiss in a low but urgent voice. ‘It’s Buffy. I can hear her. Shut up. Pretend to be dead. Anything, only don’t look like that, please…take that look off your face…I promise you anything, anything, I’ll do anything when they’re gone, but stop looking like you were sucking me off, oh, please Spike, stop looking so gorgeous, just be good.’

I rush out into the living room and she is there. My Buffy. I haven’t seen her for so long. Since she brought Spike to me. Not that that was her intention. But she saved him with her blood, and that was partially in remembrance of me I’m sure.

I’m about to speak when more legs appear coming down the stairs. Oh, Giles too. And Xander. And Anya, God, anyone else?

‘Hello, Buffy. Why are you…why are you all here?’

‘Oh God, Angel, thank God, you’re okay.’ She flies into my arms. So soft, so warm, so tiny and so beautiful. ‘Riley came to see me Angel. He was so…different, so angry. He found out about you I think. I don’t know it was all so confused, but he knew Spike was with you, not in Sunnydale. We’ve been trying phone you all day to warn you that he’s coming here, but no one's been answering. I was so afraid. I said I was coming here and Giles…’

‘I wouldn’t let her come alone, Angel, I insisted on coming.’

I look to Xander with a raised eyebrow…’Oh, I just wanted to see Spike…you know, in case he’d been dusted I could maybe have his apartment…’

‘And I came because I want an orgasm tonight and I need Xander for that.’ It’s Anya’s comment that breaks the palpable tension in the room. Xander looks as if he wishes the floor would eat him up. Giles and Buffy smile at each other. No one has noticed the blood yet. Thank God I put the body out of sight. No need for any of them to know about that.

‘Oh hi, Spike…I came to get your stuff if you were dusted.’ At Xander’s comment I turn to see Spike, wearing his porn star, faded blue jeans and one of my white shirts unbuttoned over his bandage. He is bare foot, rumpled and so beautiful I would kill every one of the humans in this room if his life with me was threatened. Well, all right, I probably wouldn’t, but I like to think that I would. He is utterly, utterly irresistible. My cock, which has subsided to a low, unsatisfied ache, swells up again and threatens to betray me. I turn away from the humans as if busying myself with stuff in the kitchen.

I know Spike is hearing my thoughts, the bugger. He can hear them faintly now if I’m not too far away from him, and he’s just fed from me, so the acuity must be enhanced. He raises his scarred eyebrow at me and I clearly hear his thoughts too in my head, ‘Want to fuck me now don’t you Luv, and you can’t cus they’re here.’ I even hear a mental snigger. I mentally stick my tongue out at him, which I can see from his face he immediately understands. He shrugs with a, ‘Yeah, you’re a sad, sad Vampire,’ sort of shrug and goes over to trade insults with Xander.

I make everyone something to drink from my limited supplies and tell Buffy and Giles briefly what happened here, leaving out the bit about Riley being killed. In my version he just leaves after being threatened by Cordelia. Weak, but it’s the best I can come up with.

Buffy actually seems upset that he is gone again. But then she has already dated one homicidal maniac…me. Guess she is immune to her boyfriends being killers now.

It’s far too late for them to leave and find hotels, so I offer to let them stay again. They gratefully accept and after a major cleaning up session, I give Buffy and Anya my bed. Giles and Xander take the couch and once again I am on my training mat in the corner.

Spike has been slouching around all evening playing the injured card with the girls. They’ve been bringing him things on the couch because he was a little too poorly to get up. Being able to sense his arousal, I know that he’s been up for quite a while now. When the humans have been busy chatting, so have we, but in our newly discovered shared thoughts. I can’t say Spike puts this incredible ability to its best use as he spent most of the evening saying crude swear words and painting graphically obscene pictures in my head of what he was going to do with me later. I retaliated in a childish way by sending him the occasional thought of me with Buffy. Sending him thoughts as if I was thinking of her. I could sense him getting more and more furious with me.

When Giles and Xander turn in for the night, he gives up the couch for them and wanders over to sit on the stairs. When he senses all the humans are asleep, he joins me on the mat.

‘Feeling better?’ I whisper as quietly as I can, we are only a few feet from the couch.

‘Fuck off and no,’ he hisses back.

‘You look better.’

‘Yeah, well looks can be deceptive. You look like an Angel, remember?’

‘What’s wrong with you then? Beside the obvious mental problems.’

‘This, is what’s wrong with me.’ He takes my hand and places it on his insistent erection. In these jeans, I’m surprised it didn’t pop out some time this evening. They don’t leave much to the imagination. Easy to slide my hand in though and I am so glad he doesn’t wear underwear.

‘Don’t Angel, you’ll wake them. Not that I mind the audience, but I know you would and somehow, somewhere you would manage to blame me if one of your precious humans saw you with your hand on my cock. So stop it…don’t!’

‘Don’t what?’ I ask innocently as I pull his foreskin back and play with the slick tip of his cock. He just laughs quietly and lets me play. I think he’s being good, I think I have the upper hand. I should have known my Childe better. He unexpectedly turns to me in full game face and bites deeply into the soft front of my throat. It’s so shocking and so erotic at the same time, I practically cum on the spot. And the most erotic thing about it? Not the feel of his fangs slicing into me, not the feel of my blood leaving me, not his weight upon me, but the complete silence that he manages to maintain whilst doing it. We are feet from Xander and Giles and he is feeding off me in total and complete silence. It’s incredible, so sexy, so intimate. But he’s only started surprising me. He pulls away for a moment and puts two fingers into the wound he’s made, pressing them in, swirling them around and coating them in my viscous blood.

Very quietly, very subtly he moves his hand down and pulling off my boxers, slips the blood-coated fingers into my entrance. And suddenly I realise his game, I can hear the sniggers in his head. Because he’s being silent, obviously I have to too. I’m his Sire, anything he can do, I can do better. Besides, he’s Spike, I’m me…I just am better. Have to be. So now, of course, I have to be silent too, but he’s finishing off what he started earlier. He had me screaming his name, he had me groaning in pleasure and now he’s going to expect me to do it silent. I hate him.

He keeps his head turned towards the couch as if he is actually enjoying having them there, as if that is adding to the thrill, the illicitness of the act. I can feel his arousal pulsating at the thought of having Giles and Xander a few feet away. He pushes his fingers in further, working them around the sidewalls of my passage. It is just pleasure, nothing more, nothing less. Pleasure from the physical sensation of being so stimulated, but pleasure from knowing it is Spike doing it, Spike here with me, Spike who is sending me irritating, childish giggling in my head. He turns now to face me, the laughing stops and I distinctly hear a question in my head. It’s crude, graphic and absolutely what I want. I look at him and nod.

He puts the rest of his fingers in and then adds the thumb.

I could not be stretched more.

In this room where I once lay with him and thought him like a corpse, in this room I am fisted by my Childe who can now talk to me through my blood. I am pleasured by my lover in ways so intimate, we almost become each other.

And I suddenly realise that as Spike pushes his fist deeply into my body, as I rear up in delight and he catches my mouth with his to help me stay silent, I realise that he does not remember me…as Angelus. He does not remember me…as his Sire. He does not remember me…as Buffy’s Angel or any of other the other parts I have ever played. He doesn’t remember any of these, he makes me anew for himself.

He has made me as I am here and now with him. He has reinvented himself and in doing that, he has made me new too.

I did not imagine this when I thought of him and remembered him. I did not imagine the lover, companion, friend, playmate I would have in Spike if he became mine. He has done this. He took himself away, tested and found himself. He came back to me and found his own space in my life. He took me away and made me face my past. So I am not the same person who lay on this mat a few months ago thinking of Spike. I thought one hand, held on his nipple was erotic. And I lie here a few feet from humans being fisted, silently.

I have been freed. By Spike.

I have been saved. By Spike.

I have been made anew. By Spike.

And he’s right. You do have to keep reinventing yourself if you are aiming to survive eternity. And I desperately want eternity now. As a Vampire. With him.

To survive you have to adapt and be flexible.

And as Spike was to prove later that night, whilst still trying to be silent, he was very, very flexible.

I don’t think things will ever be the same between us after the ‘incident’. I will never forget how I felt when I thought he was dusted.

I surprised myself. I knew I loved Angel. I knew I wanted him. I'd even just discovered I fancied him. But I didn’t know that I loved him enough to want him not to remember me. I’ve always tried to be more selfish than that.

What is it about Angel that makes me so much better than I actually want to be? Is it that he’s not perfect and, although he hides it well, I'm the only one who knows that he’s deeply flawed and damaged? Sometimes I feel like I am the just the shadow to his light, but then at other times I feel as if I I’m the only fucking thing keeping him afloat.

So things can’t be the same again.

They are going to be better.

Like a bleeding mirror, he makes me see myself and what I see is someone that Angel needs.

Cus that’s something I hadn’t even thought about when I wanted him. I just wanted him. I’ve wanted him for over a hundred years. I’ve wanted him since the moment he touched me in that bed all those years ago. I’ve carried that want and that need all this time like a weight around my neck. But in all that time, in all those years, I never considered that Angel might actually need me. Not love, nothing about him loving me, I never stopped to consider that he might just need me. That I could be there for him, even if he didn’t love me. That I could stop being selfish and just give Angel what he needs. I guess being his Childe kinda made me fixed in how I saw stuff. I didn’t see that things had changed between us until I thought he was gone. Then all I could think of was what he needed.

Even if what he needed was to forget me.

I didn’t think I had that much love in me.

So I am feeling quite swirly-coat-like again tonight. I’m feeling a bit of a hero. I’ve survived, Angel is here and I’ve just discovered that I love him so much I was willing for him to forget me.

All these years wanting him to remember me but I only really feel I love him enough when I want him to forget me.

If I knew what the bloody word meant, I’d probably call it ironic.

I’ll have to ask Angel what he thinks. When he’s recovered from this fist in his backside that is. He's a bit busy for talking now. I’m deliberately staying away from the spot that would send him through the roof. I’m just making a nice, easy thrusting movement up and down. It’s not easy to be silent when you’re being fisted I guess. Never tried it meself. Being silent that is.

Wish Giles would wake up. I’d like to watch him watching me doing this. I love an audience and I really feel it’s time now to let the Sunnydale gang know just what I am to Angel. Maybe I’ll get Angel to wake them up for me.

Maybe if I hit just here.

Oh, he’s good. He’s got self-discipline; I’ll give him that. Not a murmur. I’m banging at that spot like a boxer going for a split eye, and nothing. Silence. He’s bitten through two tendons on his wrist though. Bugger! Have to try something else.

I rear up over him, pulling out my fist. My tongue starts to make sensuous trails up his chest and across towards one nipple. I go as if to lick it, but slipping into game face I bite, savagely, intensely on one erect peak. My Vampire hearing can pick up the faintest groan of ecstasy and agony. No way the humans are going to hear that, although Xander does make a puffing sound as he tries to get more comfortable on the couch. Damn, I really want them awake, and I want Angel to wake them. I suck the blood off his chest, no need to waste good Sire blood and renew my assault on his ass. It’s very slick and ready after its stretch exercises, so I waste no opportunity to thrust my extremely hard, thick cock in deep. I go straight to that spot again, it’s just there waiting for me. I lie on Angel’s stomach and just work him, hard. He’s savaging his wrist again, his eyes rolling back in his head, but still, no fucking sound. Not a grunt, not a groan. I’m having trouble myself, I really need to make a noise doing this, but this is a fight to the death now, each of us trying to prove who is better at this, Angel desperately trying to prevent the humans waking. I grasp his cock in my hand and start to work that as hard as I’m working him from the inside. As I thrust against his pleasure spot, I scratch a nail over the weeping tip, as I pull back, I ease his foreskin back too.

He turns his face away from me and tries to bury it in his arm. He knows he’s coming, I’ve seen him do that before, and he wasn’t even trying to stay silent then. I feel his shaft swell in my hand, the blood rushing down, and his seed gathering. I give a final few thrusts in his ass and he explodes with a rush of copious cum on his chest. I turn towards the couch to see if there is any awareness of what they are missing a few feet from them, but they are both asleep. Fucking hell, Angel, what’s it going to take to make you groan?

I give up. He’s won. He’s a fucking hundred years older than me and I guess he’ll always be better than me. I lie on my back for a while sending him hate messages. I can sense him sniggering in my mind. Fuck you, Angelus.

Suddenly, I feel one hand slide slowly and hesitantly over my chest, dipping in under his borrowed shirt. He comes to rest over my nipple and we are there again with the feel of his strong hand on me, with the erotic sensations coursing through my body, with my need for him. He gently moves the pad of his thumb over the peak of my nipple, it's loving and intimate. I feel completely at home and loved.

I turn and catch him in my arms and find his mouth with mine. I send him the clear, unmistakable message…goodnight, love you…and lightly kiss his unsuspecting lips with a deep passionate kiss.

And I have to laugh, because at this simple, no games thing, just a simple goodnight and a kiss, Angel groans a deep, loud groan.

‘Angel, is that you? What’s wrong? Where’s Spike? Oh you’re there too. Oh. OH! Good grief. Had no idea. Sorry. Goodnight!’


I’m fucking delighted now, I've won, he's woken the Watcher. Watcher’s seen Angel and me. No denying me now. Things going totally my way, till I hear distinctly and chillingly in my head…I’ll remember this Spike. When they are gone. Don’t worry…

I will remember this.

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