Forever Again

by SpikesKat

A/N:  Forever began Post AtS Destiny, although I manipulated that episode in my little Spuffy mind to where Spike never pulled that crap with Harmony.  He recorporealized and then later left.  Then Forever began and ended.  Now, with Forever Again, I’m using my creative license and am manipulating the rest of the season of AtS.  Basically, the series was put on hold while my story played out and the timeline is picking up with this story during Harm’s Way.  I’ll be manipulating the rest of the S.5 episodes to suit my story, although chronologically, they’ll play out as normal.  Oh, and credit the the Season Five writers of Angel for the bits and pieces of dialogue I may snag here and there.  Now, if I haven’t confused you too much, here’s chapter three…

~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 3

Los Angeles 

“It’s too bad Spike left before we could manipulate him.  Almost regret sending him our little present.  I would have liked to have seen him take Angel down a peg or two… heard there was no love lost between the two vampires and it could have worked to our advantage.” 

“Yeah, but now, by all appearances, they’ve buried the hatchet. He even showed up in LA for the holidays.” 

“Well, at least he’s out of our hair, again,” he murmured, pulling Eve closer.  Lindsey brushed his lips against her forehead before turning to eye the box beside the bed.  “You leave our present for Angel?” 

Eve grinned, her fingers tracing the concealing markings on her lover’s chest.  “Oh yes!” 

“And, no one suspects a thing?” 

“Nope.  I dumped some relic in their lap and had them put a rush on it.  They’ll be busy until I can get back with…” she paused a moment, leaning over Lindsey to touch the box holding their secret weapon for Angel.  “… ‘mama’ here.” 

“Good.” 

Eve pulled away from the box and once more concentrated on the bare-chested man beneath her.  Her lips lowered to his eagerly, and soon the two lovers were rolling around on the bed, shedding the remainder of their clothes as their hands roamed possessively over each other. 

~*~*~*~*~

Earlier that day… 

Angel glanced down at the phone, lost in thought.  Why hadn’t he kept them there?  Why had he let them go back to Rome?  For all that they didn’t get along, he’d enjoyed having Spike back in his life.  Buffy, too.  Heck, even Xander had been ok to be around now that he’d pulled that self-righteous stick out of his ass.  He chuckled to himself and leaned back in his seat, the springs groaning slightly in the otherwise silent office. 

Another thing he’d enjoyed was the “hands on” during his time in Rome.  Beating evil with fists and swords – making the world a safer place, if only for a little while.  Now that he’d made a deal with the devil – literally – he’d become so dissatisfied with his life.  He rationalized his decision by telling himself that he was providing his son with what he wanted.  If he had to move his operation here, to the place he’d spent the last four years trying to defeat, so be it.  The senior partners thought they were holding all the cards.  They’d soon realize that he was not that easily manipulated. 

Suddenly, his door burst open and he watched as Wes and Gunn marched inside his office, arguing about something. 

“What you're proposing could take weeks. We can't afford the delay,” Wesley argued. 

“Forty-eight hours, maximum. There are at least two initiates to his inner circle who'd jump at the chance to overthrow him,” Gunn replied. 

“You're overlooking the tactical merits of my assassination scenario.” Their voices continued to rise in volume as each debated the benefits of their plans. 

“Guys…” 

“Hey, in my plan, he still wakes up dead by Thursday,” Gunn told him, oblivious to the vampire trying to get their attention.  

“Guys!” Angel’s voice yelled over theirs, momentarily stopping their dispute.  “C.E.O., right here, in the dark.” 

“Sorry, Angel,” Wes replied, once more the reserved British gentleman as he handed Angel a file. “Lucien Drake. He's a warlock.” 

“An evil warlock and a cult leader. Got over a thousand followers. We're pretty sure they sold most of their children down the Hades River in return for some serious demonic mojo,” Gunn added. 

“One more religious fringe group stockpiling weapons, but in this case, the weapons are black magicks of the most dangerous variety.” 

“And you want Wolfram & Hart to stop them,” Angel responded, unable to keep the dissatisfaction out of his voice.  Neither two of the men seemed to notice.  Just kept up their commentary as they explained what they wanted to do.  When he could stand it no longer, he snapped, his growing dissatisfaction at not being able to accomplish anything worthwhile while pulling the strings of the LA branch of Wolfram & Hart and his worry about his grandchilde and Buffy the driving force behind his outburst. 

Fred walked in the office as he jumped to his feet, ranting about getting back to basics, and killing everything evil.  Ignoring their shocked expressions, Angel continued to vent his displeasure, how they were slowly being molded by the senior partners into their way of thinking.   

When he finally finished his tirade, he plopped back in his chair, rubbing his hands over his eyes wearily. 

“Angel, are you ok?” Fred asked tentatively. 

“Yeah… just tired.” 

“Well, why don’t you get some rest.  We can hold down the fort here for a bit.” 

For once, Angel took her advice, rising wearily to his feet and ambling towards the private elevator that would take him to his room.  He stepped inside and waited for the doors to shut.  Before they had a chance, his arm shot out and he peeked his head out at the three staring at him somewhat cautiously. 

“Gunn, get a meeting with your best Judas. Feel him out, but don't tip your hand. Any hint of him carrying word back to Drake, we go with Wes' plan.” 

Then he removed his hands and let the doors close softly and the elevator carried him towards his room.   

Once inside, Angel stripped out of his clothes, not bothering with where they fell.  He pulled back the covers and slipped beneath the sheets, settling them around his hips.  Worried about the two blond vampires, his dreams were troubled, senses so attuned to them that he didn’t hear the woman sneak inside his room and unleash the blue bug upon his bed.  As the creature sunk its teeth into his stomach and injected its neurotoxins, Angels dreams shifted…leaving him confused and disoriented as his colleagues messed with his mind. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Rome
Early morning  

Giles looked around the de Vinci airport, arms laden down with his suitcases – for the most part filled with books – as he caught the attention of a waiting cabbie.  Driving with Dawn once was enough, thank you very much, and he didn’t want to have to bother the others to have someone pick him up from the airport.  And, with the brief message from Spike, he hadn’t time to relay any flight information to the worried vamp.  No, the taxi ride was by far the easiest solution.  Although, once he settled in the back seat and the driver asked him his destination, Giles had a fleeting thought that Dawn would have been the safer of the two drivers.  With his fingers gripping the faux leather of the seat, he closed his eyes and whispered prayers for divine intervention to keep them from crashing.  

Somehow he managed not to pass out from the breath he held as the cabbie wove in and out of the light traffic and eventually, the vehicle reached their destination.  Giles stared up at the building, attempting to see through the walls and pinpoint his charge.  Paying the driver, he grabbed his cases and let himself into the building using a copy of the key to the front door.  

Dawn peeked her head out from the kitchen, coffee cup in hand, not surprised at seeing Buffy’s watcher let himself into their house.  Spike had interrupted her studying to tell her that he and Buffy were going back to LA.  She thought to argue about going with him, but there was something in his eyes that unnerved her…He was scared.  He was scared and he was trying to hide it.  But, she could see the tightness of his jaw, his body coiled tight with barely constrained tension, as if part of him was on constant alert to the goings on in the house.  So, rather than argue with him, she told him she understood.  He’d smiled then, pleased she hadn’t fought him, ruffling the hair on her head and telling her to get some sleep and that they’d talk more later.  She’d rolled her eyes at him and swatted his hand away then went back to studying as he slipped silently from her room.  

Now, as she looked at the unkempt features of Giles, she had to wonder how serious this latest episode was with Buffy.  

“Oh…good morning, Dawn!  I didn’t see you there.”  

“Hey, Giles.  How’s it going?  We’ve got you in your old room, by the way.”  

“Thanks…that’s…I’ll just get settled with my things then, and join you in a bit.”  

“That’s ok.  Get some sleep.  You look like you could use it.  I’m just going to go lie on the couch and watch some TV.  Do you need any help with those,” she asked, gesturing to his two suitcases.  

“No…no.  I’ve got them. Right…erm, I’ll just be heading up then.  Overnight flight and all.”  

Dawn watched as Giles made his way up to the second level until he disappeared out of sight down the hall.  Seeing him had just increased her worry, but she had to trust Spike and Giles to know what they were doing.  With her cup of coffee in hand, she walked through the foyer to the living room and cut on the TV.   

~*~*~*~*~  

Giles climbed the stairs to the second level and walked wearily down the hall to the room across from Buffy and Spike.  He wasn’t the least bit surprised when the door to her room abruptly opened and Spike’s own haggard features peeked out of the room.  

“Spike,” he greeted, coming to a stop in front of the door to his borrowed room.  

“Hey, Rupes.”  

“Is Buffy…”  

“Upstairs.  Locked in the training room and won’t come out.  Says it’s not safe to be around the others…as if I’d let her cause them any harm.”  He shook off his anger, running a hand through his disheveled hair.  Spike was frustrated and tired, unable to sleep since the Slayer had slipped from his arms, run to the third floor and locked herself inside.  He’d not bothered chasing after her…there was no talking to her like this – even if he was her sire.  Instead, he’d paced the confines of their bedroom for the remainder of the night, waiting for the watcher to arrive.  

“Yes, I rather imagine she would.  She never did like to lean on anyone, and she’ll see this as a failure on her part.  Here she is, supposed to be the new ‘Slayer mom’ for lack of a better word, and yet she’s trying to kill them. Best let her be for now, work things out in that head of hers.”  

“It’s the vampire demon, Rupert.  ’S too pure to settle for anythin’ less than human blood…or sire’s blood.  ’Ve got no problem being her bloody tap, but ’m not always gonna be there.  You’re gonna hafta tell ‘er.  She’s gotta give up the animal stuff…it just encourages her demon to rebel until she completely loses control.  She won’ listen to me.  Maybe comin’ from you, she’ll see she’s only exacerbatin’ the situation.”  

“I’ll have a talk with her before you both leave.  What time is Angel arriving?”  

“He’s not.  He’s sent the jet for us.  Prolly left just after I hung up with him, so it should be here sometime this evening.”  

“Good, that’ll give me a chance to get settled in here and sleep for a few hours.  Bloody red-eyes are insufferable.  Didn’t sleep a wink the entire trip.  You look like you could use some rest as well.  And don’t argue with me.  You’re not going to help the Slayer if you’re not up to peak form yourself.”  

Leaving the vampire no chance at rebuking him, Giles lifted his cases and slipped inside his room.  Not bothering with the bags for now, he stripped down to his underwear and slipped between the cool sheets and was asleep in moments.  

Spike stared at the closed door and let out an involuntary sigh.  His eyes lifted unconsciously towards the ceiling, trying to discern the Slayer’s whereabouts.  He knew she was up there, sensing her presence with his nose.  But, she’d still not opened the portal of their claim, he still couldn’t tell what emotions were running rampant through her mind.  He glanced back in the room towards the unmade bed – there was no way he was going to sleep in it without her.  

Their bedroom door clicked softly as he pulled it shut behind him, and he marched with determined stride towards the end of the hall and the stairs that would carry him to the third floor.  Halfway up the steps, he felt her.  She’d obviously fallen asleep, and with her guard down, once more their link had been established.  Even in sleep, she was restless and hurting and Spike vowed he’d break the door down to reach her if he had to.  

His hand upon the doorknob barely made a sound as he checked to see if it was still locked.  Spike cursed under his breath when he noticed that it was, indeed, still locked, and he barely paused before using his strength and twisting the piece of metal off in his hand, cringing slightly when the other half clattered to the floor.  

Opening the door, he noticed she hadn’t stirred from her place beneath the weapons on the wall.  Maybe it was because she sensed no danger, or she was just too tired right now to hear the slight noise, but Buffy continued to doze, oblivious to his presence in the room.  

Spike debated as to whether to scoop the Slayer in his arms and carry her back to their room, or just slip in behind her on the floor.  He eyed the hard surface with distaste, knowing his answer.  The path of least resistance.  Lying down beside her, his chest erupting with a soothing rumbling sound, he pulled her back into his arms, relieved when she offered up no resistance.  She’d fallen asleep crying, her partially undried tears staining the front of his shirt as he held her close.  The soft vibrations emanating from his chest continued to offer comfort and his hands ran lightly down her hair and back.  Eventually, his motions stilled and he, too, drifted off to sleep.  

~*~*~*~*~  

Buffy woke and knew that she was held tight in her lover’s arms.  Spike.  Her sire.  She could feel his worry for her, yet it was eclipsed by his love.  So deep and honest, it nearly overwhelmed her with its intensity, and she couldn’t prevent her arms from squeezing him close as she nuzzled his chest.  In answer, the sounds increased, rushing over her enhanced senses, the comforting sound easing her in a way his words had been unable.  

“I love you, Sire,” she whispered softly.  “I’m sorry I…”  

Before she could complete her thought, she found herself on her back, penetrating blue eyes shocking her with their intensity as they stared down at her.  

Lying on his side, weight supported on one arm, Spike leaned in to caress her face with his free hand.  “Nothing to be sorry for, pet,” he told her, his fingers tracing her smooth brow, cheekbone and jaw, before lowing his head and claiming her lips in a tentative kiss, merely brushing back and forth across her mouth.  

Buffy attempted to lift her head and increase the pressure, but his hand held her in place, allowing him to continue with his gentle seduction.  Relaxing back against the floor, she let him set the pace to their reunion, and nearly wept as his tender touch left her mouth to trail a cool path towards her ear.  Her eyes filled with unshed tears as he made love to her, using nothing more than lips, tongue and hand.  

Spike’s hand left her face where it had been cupping her jaw to slide down her frame and slip beneath her shirt.  His fingers caused her stomach muscles to clench as they slowly worked their way up to the lace-covered mound.  He easily undid the front clasp of her bra and moved one silky cup to the side so his hand could knead her bare flesh.  

She tried to lie passively in his arms, allow him to work his magic upon her body, but the feel of him tweaking her nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger was too much for her to take…  

“Spike,” she begged, arching up into his hand.  

“Mmmm… so responsive,” he murmured, his body sliding down over hers so that his mouth could lave attention to her other peak.  He settled himself between her legs, shoving her shirt out of the way and freeing her breasts to his gaze.  As the one hand continued its nerve-wracking attention to one breast, his mouth lowered to the other, his teeth clamping on the red scrap of material that hid the other from him.  Finally unencumbered, his tongue darted out to circle the areola, drawing a ragged moan from his childe.  

“Like that, pet?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, but loud enough for her to hear him and ground out a hissed, “yes.”  Followed by a ragged, “more.”  Spike didn’t disappoint; sucking on her puckered nipple, or swirling his tongue over the malleable flesh – no part of her was left untouched.  Driving her crazy like this, slowly, like he had all the time in the world, was having an effect on him.  His cock was straining against his jeans, desperate to be inside her, sliding in and out of her slick passage as her muscles squeezed him tight.  

But, now was not the time.  For one thing, they were upstairs in the training room.  And, with the doorknob now broken, providing no means of privacy, it wasn’t the place to finish what they had started.  

Buffy nearly cried out in despair when he lifted his head from hers and moved to set her clothes to rights.  Her body was strung so tight from his brief foreplay that she would go mad if she didn’t get some kind of relief.  And fast.  Her mouth turned down in a becoming pout, one she knew her lover was powerless to resist, and she smiled happily when he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth.  Used the opportunity to pull him flush against her body.  

“Minx!” he growled, although, not upset in the least.  “Come on.  Let’s finish this in our room.  Don’ feel much like puttin’ on a show right now.  Your girls can find out about sex on their own.”  

Buffy cheered somewhat that he was just postponing their fun for a different locale and not ending it entirely, as had been her first thought.  She allowed herself to be pulled to her feet and led down to the second level.  She glared at him over her shoulder when he urged her towards their room with a smack to her backside, telling her he’d be up in a minute and that he was grabbing them something to eat.  Knowing better than to tell him she wasn’t hungry, she rubbed her abused posterior and marched off towards her room.   

Spike watched her walk away, until she slipped inside their room and shut the door.  Only then did he resume his steps and continue down the flight of stairs to make his way towards the kitchen.  Several girls were in the room, in various stages of making lunch, and he greeted them as he moved to get his two large mugs of blood.  Lifting four packets, two for each mug, he eyed the remaining bags, and silently vowed they’d all be consumed before they left tonight – even if he had to force them down her throat.  When the microwave dinged, he retrieved the containers, mumbling a goodbye as he left the young Slayers to their meal.  

~*~*~*~*~  

Spike was still in the shower when there was a knock at their bedroom door.  Buffy knew who it was before she even opened it, revealing the concerned features of her watcher.  Her eyes filled with tears, waiting for his disappointment in her to manifest itself in his gaze, and she was somewhat surprised when he did nothing more than open his arms to her.  She flew over the threshold and eagerly accepted the hug, nearly crushing him with her combined strength, but too scared to let go.  Buffy didn’t even mind that Spike had probably set her up for this confrontation with her watcher…she was just happy she hadn’t somehow failed him.  

“Why don’t we go downstairs to the office and talk,” Giles urged.  He looked down to see his charge nod against his chest as she attempted to get her emotions under control.  After a few moments, she pulled away and preceded him down the hall towards her office.  

~*~*~*~*~  

Rome
10:30 p.m. local time  

Spike’s claws gripped the plush chair arms as the Lear jet soared into the clear night sky on its return trip to LA.  He didn’t mind flying, it was just the takeoffs and landings that he could do without.  Beside him, Buffy sat staring off out the window, the full moon illuminating her features, outlining her drawn face.  In her hand was the red axe she’d used to aide her in defeating the Turok-han in Sunnydale.  Her hand gripped the shaft unusually hard, and he had to wonder what it was she was so worried about that she felt it necessary to bring the weapon with her.  

When she’d raced down the steps, the weapon held in a fighter’s grip, neither he nor Giles had asked about it.  She’d not even looked at them as she strode out the front door, leaving behind a hurt Niblet and a confused watcher.  But, the look in her eyes hadn’t invited a confrontation over the behavior towards Dawn.  Giving her the reassurances Buffy couldn’t, Spike pulled the dark-haired girl into a brief hug, whispering his and her sister’s love in her ear.  He wasn’t surprised when she pulled away crying to rush up to her own room.  While she fully understood their need to do this alone, it didn’t mean that she wasn’t upset at not being able to come along.  

“Watcher,” Spike said, extending his hand to the surprised fellow British man.  Giles clasped it in his own, the two staring at each other as the looks conveyed a silent request and response.  With a nod of his head, their handshake fell away, and they became two men, uncomfortable with their brief show of feelings.  “You’ll look out for the ‘Bit.”  

It was a statement, not a question.  

Rather than take offense, Giles just assured him he would.  

“Tell the ‘Bit…tell her if we’re not back in a few weeks…if she wants to come over for the break I’ll arrange for Angel to have her flown over.  Provided you come along, of course.”  

“Of course.  I’ll let her know when she… erm, comes back downstairs,” Giles replied.  He glanced out the open door towards where Buffy sat waiting inside the taxi that would take them to the Leonardo di Vinci airport.  “You’ll…uh…look after her.  She shouldn’t give you any trouble with feeding, although, I suspect you’re going to become quite the pincushion.”  

Giles flushed when he realized the implied meaning of the words, but glossed over his embarrassment with a vigorous wiping of his already clean lenses.  

“Erm, yes, well… Buffy and I had a talk.”  At that, Spike quirked his brow at the other.  Both knew how “talks” with Buffy went.  Giles coughed then continued. “Anyway, I told her that she was going to have to get past the whole human blood thing.  I explained in no uncertain terms that the only way for her to remain in control of her demon was for her to drink human blood.  She didn’t like it, but she’ll do it.  I’ll keep researching on my end, see if I can offer you more information.”  

The watcher glanced over Spike’s shoulder one more time, as if to confirm that Buffy was indeed out of earshot.  Even so, he still managed his next question in nothing more than a whisper.  “Did she say why she needed the axe?”  

“No.  But I bet it had somethin’ to do with what Lorne told ‘er.”  

“The Seer?”

“Yeah.”  

“When did this happen?  And, why am I just now hearing about it?  You have to…”  

“Easy, Rupert.  She wouldn’t tell me about it either, and with everything else that happened since we’ve been back, I haven’ had a chance to ask her about it yet.”  

“Well, just see that you do, and I expect nightly reports.”  

“Yes, da…”  

Giles rolled his eyes at the blond-headed vampire.  “You better get out there.  Be safe.  Tell Angel and the others I said hello.” 

Spike had assured the other that he would, then he’d walked out the door and made his way towards his mate, slipping into the back seat of the taxi and taking her hand in his.  Both were silent on the short ride to the airport.  

That had been over an hour ago.  And, now that they’d leveled out, he had to wonder what he was letting himself in for…  

~*~*~*~*~  

Los Angeles
8:30 a.m. local time  

Spike was beyond tired when they exited the jet and stepped into the waiting limo tucked inside their private hangar.  Although technically the clock said only ten hours had passed since they’d left Rome, with all of the time changes, they’d actually been in the air almost twenty.  Right now, he wanted nothing more than to crawl in bed with Buffy and sleep for twenty-four hours straight.  Pulling Buffy into his arms, he leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes while the limo drove them to Wolfram & Hart.  

Twenty minutes later, the vehicle came to a stop in the underground parking garage below the LA law offices, and Spike gently shook the Slayer awake telling her that they’d arrived.  They clambered out of the car, legs unsteady after sitting for so long, pausing outside the elevators to allow the driver to insert the key that would take them to the upper levels and Angel’s office.  

The two blondes were surprised that Angel wasn’t there to greet them once they stepped off the elevator.  He had to have known that they were here, his controlling personality no doubt wanting to be kept appraised of his childers’ whereabouts. Spike had tried to call himself, like Angel had asked, but had gotten nothing but the incessant ringing in his ear.  He just hoped the pilot had been able to alert him of their impending arrival.  

Spike clasped Buffy’s hand in his as he moved to where Harmony sat behind the receptionist’s desk answering the phones; her other hand held the axe lightly against her shoulder.  Angel’s receptionist seemed surprised to see them so soon; his name shouted loud enough that everyone in the area stopped what they were doing for a moment to glance at the blond vampiress. 

“Harmony…where’s Peaches?”  

“Uh…I think he’s in bed.  He hasn’t been in his office since yesterday morning.  I can’t believe he didn’t tell me you guys were here.  I would have made sure your room was ready.  So not my fault if it isn’t…hey, Buffy!” she rattled on.  

Buffy just gave the airhead a slight smile, too tired to deal with her overly cheerful personality.   

“It’s fine, I’m sure.  Can’t have been too much to do since we just left here a few days ago.”  

He walked off towards Angel’s office, pulling the Slayer behind him, seeking the private elevator that would take them directly to his suite of rooms.  Something wasn’t right.   

All was quite as the doors swished open directly into his grandsire’s room, and Spike led Buffy towards the bedroom.  When they pushed open the door, shocked gasps escaped their lips before Buffy pulled away from him and used the stake end of her axe to spear the creature sucking on Angel’s stomach.  It screeched in pain and she ripped it off him, throwing it towards the other part of the room.  As it flew towards her, she swung her axe in a smooth arc and easily cleaved the thing in two.  

The two blondes stared at the split halves and wondered what the hell it was that had been sucking on the dark-haired vamp. 

“Buffy?  Spike?  Wha?”  

Buffy dropped the axe and scrambled onto the bed, pulling Angel’s head in her lap to soothe him and herself.  Spike wasn’t jealous in the least, knowing that she thought of his grandsire as family now, her worry for the elder vamp a given because of his new status.  He moved to stand beside the bed, reassuring the Slayer as she continued to fret over the dark-haired vamp.  

“Well…now I know why you didn’t answer your phone.  And, where the hell is everyone?  How come no one has been up to check on you?  If we hadn’t come back, who knows how long you would have been like this.”  The more he thought about it, the angrier Spike got, until Buffy left the bed and had to soothe him, only to be shook off as he continued to pace.  She just rolled her eyes and went back and sat next to Angel on the bed.  

“Spike…” Angel began, trying to placate the younger vampire before he got too worked up.  

“I mean, bloody hell, it’s not like you can keep your broody self out of other people’s business.  They had to know you’d be up and about when we came back…”  

“Will!”  

“What!”  

“’M fine, so quit yer fussin’.  Now, be a good lad and get me somethin’ to drink... and call the others in here.  See if they can figure out what that thing is.” The emotion in his voice that the younger vampire was worried on his behalf producing that Irish burr he’d spent years burying.  

Spike swallowed the retort he’d been about to make and stalked off to do as his sire requested, returning promptly with a full mug of blood.  A few moments later, there was a knock at the door to Angel's suite, and he left the bedroom and opened the door to see Gunn, Wes, Fred, and Lorne standing outside, their expressions showing their concern.  Upon returning to Angel’s bedroom, he found his elder sitting up in bed, weak but recovering; Buffy had moved off the bed and was sitting on a chair next to it, her axe back in her possession.  The others followed behind him, Wes and Fred going immediately to the blue creature where Buffy had let it fall on the floor.  

Walking over to where his mate sat, Spike pulled her to her feet so he could sit down and snuggle with her on his lap.  He was bone-tired, but couldn’t leave just yet and seek his bed.  He needed to hear what that thing was, and if they could expect any more of the same…  

~*~*~*~*~  

Angel watched as his team let themselves out of his room, with assurances to get back to him as soon as possible.  The door shut on the last person, and his eyes immediately sought out the two blonde vampires sound asleep in the chair beside his bed.  That Spike had fallen asleep in his presence spoke volumes…told him that for all his outward appearances, the younger vampire trusted Angel to keep him safe while his guard was down.  

And, that was something that he couldn’t or wouldn’t forget.  

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