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Chapter 21

Giles' heart gave a small, weak flutter of fear. 'Don't.'

Spike looked up. 'When I caught you snogging that bint….'

'Err, I think I had my cufflink caught in her….'

'Whatever. I kinda lost it for a bit, and I did some vampire stuff.'

'You couldn't kill; what do you….'

'I went back into the ground, pet. I lay with the worms and the crawling things in the earth.'

'Good God! For how long?'

'All that week….'

'No! Oh, bloody hell.' Giles went over and parted Spike's thighs, standing between them. He took Spike's face and held it gently. 'You stupid, stupid vampire. How could you?'

'Yeah, well. I wanted that punishment you just talked 'bout, see? I felt like a demon; so I thought I'd just be one.'

'I just can't bear…. What happened?'

'Oh, a fucking dog tried to dig me up, so it kinda lost its romantic appeal. Anyway. That's not what I wanted to tell you.'

'Oh, God. This is about him, isn't it?'

'Yeah.'

'Don't….'

'Shh. Listen, human. I told ya, I went there to get his help, to do vampire things. An' I did. But I got help I didn't expect.'

'If you tell me I'm going to lose….'

'Will you shut the fuck up? Listen! He helped, cus he weren't you! I couldn't get what I wanted from him. Yeah, he made me scream… in pain, Rupert, in pain… jeez… anyway, he hurt me, an' I wanted that; I hurt him, which was even better; I REALLY wanted that. But it didn't help, see? That's what I'm tryin' to say. I thought he was what I wanted. That what I'd been trying to find with you was just a substitute for what I 'ad with him. Do you get what I'm tryin' to say? Until then, right up to the moment he took me, I thought I was looking for him in you. But the moment he touched me, I was lookin' for you in him. Fuck. I told meself I'd never admit any of this.'

Giles didn't speak for a long time. He couldn't, for his face was pressed into Spike's bare chest, his mouth stilled against the hard pectoral muscles. Spike stroked his hair and smoked quietly over his head. Finally, a muffled voice said, 'Tomorrow, outside, you're not allowed to smoke in here, remember?'

'K, pet. Whatever you say. Tomorrow, out there, you'll be me fucking minion, so seems only fair.'

Giles stood up. 'You and me: conscious choices. It seems incredible.'

'Yeah.' Spike picked up the mug once more, staring thoughtfully at the letters. 'Guess I'd better do what it says then.'

They took a long time obeying the command on the mug. Spike wrapped his legs around Giles' waist, locking them at the ankles, pulling the human to him. Giles put his hands down and held the thin, hard, leather-clad thighs, stroking them slowly up and down, as the kissing made them both swell and harden.

It was only when Giles sensed that Spike was becoming distracted that he pulled away. 'What?'

Spike grimaced. 'If I tell ya, will you try to get away?'

'Tell me, and I'll let you know.'

Spike sighed but rolled his eyes towards the stove. Giles cursed and grabbed the pan, looking morosely at the soup he'd been trying to heat. 'Bloody hell.'

'Come on, I'll give you something else to fill that empty tummy, hey?' Spike smirked and captured Giles once more with his legs. Giles allowed the vampire to pull him back, taking the cool tongue once more into his mouth, running his hands through the soft hair.

Finally, he pulled away, and dragged Spike off the counter. 'Bed.'

'Yeah, guess.'

'We have a long day tomorrow - outside.'

'Oh, yeah. Outside.'

The thought of the day to come rather took the edge of Giles' appetite, but he made a valiant effort to swallow when, later that night, Spike filled his mouth with cool sperm. Lying spent in the sweaty, rumpled sheets; denying Spike - as he wanted to - seemed impossible. Spike did not seem to be troubled by similar thoughts. He stretched out in a starfish across the bed: long, pale limbs extended to all corners, and fell into a still, death-like sleep.

Spike left in the early, pre-dawn light, without waking Giles. He shrugged on his duster, opened the door, breathed in the cool, winter air, and stepped out, as the vampire he needed to be.

Giles woke some hours later, groaned at the empty bed, showered, ate some breakfast, and waited for the gang to arrive, which they did, bursting in with their usual cheery enthusiasms: the party, his singing, slaying business, and life in general.

They had just settled down to some research, when the door flew open, and Spike, under a thick blanket, burst in. He chucked the covering to the floor and stationed himself on the steps, taking his time to light a cigarette. Knowing everyone was looking at him, he raised an eyebrow, 'What?'

Buffy came over. 'I suppose you've got information we desperately need?'

'Nope. 'Less you wanna know 'bout the stuff bein' nicked from crypts, course.'

Giles came over. 'What stuff?'

Spike kept his eyes lowered for a moment then lifted them. It was their first test. He couldn't help a small smile, but no one noticed; he always smiled at the watcher for some reason or another. He held Giles' gaze, as he replied. 'Chalice thingy. Got nicked last night 'parently. I weren't there - had important business - but I 'eard 'bout it this mornin'.'

Giles began to grin, so bit his lip and looked away. He focused on Xander - he usually found that stopped him smiling.

Buffy huffed. 'I don't trust him, Giles.'

Giles looked at her, suppressing the grin as best he could. 'Certainly not. He's lying about something, but I'm not sure what.'

'Hey! Bloody cheek.'

Giles didn't need to look to hear the amused undertone to Spike's interjection, and replied seriously to Buffy. 'I think we need to check it out though.'

Buffy shrugged. 'K. I'll go.' She eyed Spike. 'If you're….'

'Hey, don't shoot the messenger. And I'd come with you like, but….' He waved vaguely at the sunshine outside with his cigarette.

Giles put a hand on her arm. 'He might be telling the truth, in which case, I think you should take Xander and Willow with you.'

'Sure.'

Neatly disposing of the children for the morning, Giles and Spike retired to bed once more to catch up on the two hours they had been forced to be apart.

Spike sat against the headboard, still dressed, watching Giles unbuttoning his shirt. 'K?'

'What?'

'You.'

'The lying does not come naturally to me, no.'

'Didn't hear any meself.'

'No, I suppose not. The intent was dishonest though.'

'More so, when you were lying to yourself as well.' Giles looked up for a moment, his face thoughtful.

'Do you know, I sometimes think it'll take me more than this one lifetime to really get to know what goes on in that blond head of yours.'

Spike grinned and slipped back into his more casual, I'm-just-a-fuck-up-of-a-vampire style. 'So, 'appy then?'

Giles let his shirt drop to the floor. 'I intend to be in about a minute's time. Take off your jeans and turn over. I want you.'

'Well, seein' you ask so nicely….' Spike raised his hips and, with a smirk, slid his jeans down. He began to unlace his boots but was seized, and flipped over. Laughing, Giles parted the pale cheeks as far as the restricting clothing allowed and bent down to the cool entrance.

'So, I was important business, was I?'

Spike answered by dipping supply at the waist and thrusting his backside up further. Giles gave him a small slap and reached over for a jar of lotion. He was about to run some over Spike's skin, about to ease some into him with an eager finger, when he paused. He turned Spike back over and handed him the jar. 'You do it. I want to watch you.'

Spike's eyes widened, and he choked on a small, strangled laugh. 'You're bloody joking, right?'

'Not at all. I just want to watch you get ready for me.'

'Hey! Master Vampire here with 'is minion!'

'That's outside, remember? Inside, we're….' He trailed off. Spike grinned.

'Oh, this'll be good. Go on….'

'We're….'

'We're…?'

'Oh, shut up.'

''Ow 'bout lovers?'

'Lovers? Lovers. Lovers.' Giles squinted as he tried this out for a while. 'Lovers. No. Not quite seeing it somehow.'

'Friends that fuck?'

'Friends that fuck? No. Let's say no to that one.'

'Uh huh. Colleagues that cohabit?'

'Shut up, again.'

'Boyfriends?'

'Now.'

'Special friends.'

'Spike, shut up.'

'Come here and make me.'

For a while, Giles did but, halfway through some interesting activity, Spike lifted his face and said, amused. 'Friends does it for me.'

Giles, overwhelmed as usual by the intense physical sensations Spike managed to draw out of his body, could barely speak. He merely put a hand to Spike's very rumpled blond hair and nodded.

Giles left Spike sleeping in his bed and spent the afternoon pottering, doing human things that Spike would only have laughed at. When he returned in the early evening, Spike had gone, but the Kiss the Librarian mug had been placed prominently in the middle of the bed, and a large smiley face drawn in pen on the sheet. Giles sighed, and found it amusing that he could do this while grinning.

Having passed the simple test that morning, Giles was determined to put himself through a much more difficult one that evening. He walked over to Buffy's and accompanied her on patrol, discussing the crypt robbing as they went. Giles was amused to discover that Spike had actually been telling the truth. Buffy was in the middle of recounting how she'd found the demons, when a pale, lean figure pushed off from the wall of a crypt. 'What's 'appening?'

Giles congratulated himself that he did not look at Spike, however much he wanted to. He tested himself though by saying casually, 'Do you have nothing better to do?'

Spike came closer and began to tag along with them. 'Might have later tonight, yeah. But now? Nah.'

Feeling very confident, Giles actually turned to him for the first time. He was about make a caustic reply but suddenly said, 'Oh, new shirt.'

He was so grateful that it was dark. Buffy and Spike both looked at him with incredulous expressions, Spike clearly biting back a chuckle.

Giles mumbled something crossly and said, 'So, just why are you following us?'

Spike gave him a cheeky look. 'Just wanted to watch the fun.'

'And that would be…. Oh.' Giles and Buffy looked around at the encircling vampires. Spike smirked.

'That would be… this fun.'

The vampires attacked, and Buffy went immediately into full slayer mode. Giles would have tackled the large vampire that attacked him, but another vampire staked it before it could reach him. This kept happening and, finally, Giles just stood with his arms folded and watched Spike play. He varied his technique: sometimes pinning a fellow vampire to the ground and pushing the stake so hard it embedded in the soft soil; sometimes taking them out from behind before they saw where the attack came from; sometimes holding them close and slipping the stake in, as if they were intimate lovers in a deathly embrace.

When they were finally alone, Buffy turned with blazing eyes to Spike, 'Did you set this up?'

'Yeah, sure, like I've got a rent-a-vampire gang I can just command: "Go! Defeat the Slayer and her Watcher". I treat me minions a bit better than that. Don't I, Giles?'

Giles shook his head wearily and began to walk home. Still arguing, Buffy and Spike followed him.



When Spike came over later that night, he came into the living room to find Giles knee deep in boxes. He glanced around, but went up to the human and caught him in a swift embrace. 'Upstairs?'

'You are such a bugger, Spike. You left me looking like a complete numpty this evening.'

'Don't care.' Spike went to the bar and poured them both a drink. 'You're mine now, and I ain't gonna let you get 'urt.'

'Perhaps I should put a sign up: "Beware of the dog - it bites"?'

If he was trying to provoke Spike, it didn't work; the vampire pursed his lips thoughtfully. 'Good idea. "Pit Bull lives 'ere" What's all this then?' He gave Giles his drink, toeing one of the boxes.

Giles chuckled. 'My new computer.'

Spike suddenly showed a rare flash of genuine enthusiasm. He pulled one of the boxes open. 'You little darlin'. Let's get it workin'. Why's there more than one box?'

'Ah… right. I was rather waiting for you to help me. But suddenly - I can't think why - I'm beginning to lose faith in your computer expertise.'

'Me what?'

'You're the one who knows all about computers, aren't you?'

Spike stood up and looked at him. 'I know 'ow to surf for cool porn, yeah. Where's the porn box?'

'So… let me just get this straight. You have absolutely no idea how to put all this together?'

Giles had to give Spike his due, the vampire did toe one or two more boxes thoughtfully. He even lit a cigarette and eyed the handbook lying on the floor for a few minutes. It was a valiant effort but, finally, he admitted defeat and flung himself on the couch with a dismissive wave of his hand. 'Just let me know when it's up an' running.'

Giles admitted defeat, too and, the next day, called Willow for help.

Spike arrived half way though the assembly process, throwing his blanket away with his usual disdain. 'What's up?'

He ignored the annoyed looks from the younger humans and went over to the boxes. 'What you got 'ere then, watcher?'

Giles, wondering where he was going with this, answered carefully, 'What does it look like?'

'It looks like a fucking abortion. Should'a got someone to 'elp.'

'I asked a so-called expert, but he was as much use as a fish on a bicycle.'

'Should'a asked me, mate. I know all 'bout computers.'

'Not things I think we'll go into now though.'

'Why not? Might educate the kiddies a bit. Hey, Harris, you ever seen….' Wanting to stifle him with a kiss, Giles contented himself with slapping the manual at him.

'Make yourself useful - silently - or get out.'

Spike grinned and threw himself on the couch, clenching and unclenching his fist teasingly at Giles.

Giles quickly discovered the reason he had not seen a lot of porn: he didn't like it or find it particularly stimulating. It interested him, in a detached sort of way, but he got far more stimulation from watching Spike's enthusiasm for it. He watched Spike as the vampire surfed: leaning back in the chair, his feet up on the desk, smoking slowly. Spike knew he was being watched and, after a few minutes, said, 'When I was a lad, you got fucking excited if you saw an ankle.'

'Is….' Giles glanced at the picture on the screen and winced slightly. 'Is that better?'

''S different….'

Within a few days, Giles noticed a change in Spike's interests. Whenever he came to stand behind him and run his hands lightly through Spike's hair or hold his shoulders and massage them, he found Spike switching screens at his approach. When this had happened on and off all one day, he could stay quiet no longer, and said with some bitterness, 'You don't value friendship very highly, do you, vampire?'

Spike didn't look around but held the mouse still guiltily. With a sigh, he flicked back to the site he'd been on. Giles perched on the desk and looked at the pictures. He looked at Spike.

Spike shrugged. 'I just fucking miss it sometimes. No need to whine to everyone 'bout it though.' He closed the site on Hawaii, and the bright, sun-filled pictures disappeared. Giles looked down at his nails for a while. He took off his glasses and polished them. Finally, he just pulled Spike's head into his lap and held him for a while. There was nothing he could say that would make the situation any easier to bear.

******************

There were tests, and then there were… tests. Giles did not particularly want to open his door the following evening to Angel, but he did. Fearful, furious, English and polite, he invited him in.

With a small smirk, Angel came slowly into the room. He looked around and, for a split second, somewhere in his complex split psyche, Giles knew that Angel was enjoying remembering Jenny. If he could have gotten away with it, if he could have done it physically, Giles would have staked the vampire for that tiny flicker of pleasure in those intense eyes. That Giles might have been thinking about a recent flight he had paid for to Los Angeles, had nothing to do with this violent intent at all.

He watched Angel mooch around his apartment. He noted everything the vampire looked at or touched. He saw the way he paused by the computer, watched how he stopped by an open book, noted when he stroked a hand over the bright yellow, librarian mug.

Giles was never too sure just how powerful vampires' senses were, but he had the odd thought that Angel lingered over all the things Spike had touched that day.

He was not going to speak first. That much he had decided. He turned away from Angel and put the kettle on. As he watched it, he tried to recall the little Spike had told him about his trip to LA. Giles could not remember - and it seemed rather critical now - whether Spike had told Angel about them or not. He had the impression that he had not, but wasn't too sure that this was not just desperate fear, winning out over more accurate memory.

At last, Angel finished his slow, arrogant inspection and turned to Giles. He smiled, and a chill ran up the human's spine, making the roots of his hair tingle. 'How are you, Rupert?'

Staking was too good for him. Giles had a brief, but satisfying flash of Angel's probable torments in hell and tried to reply to this provocative question calmly. 'Well, quite well. Why are you here?'

Angel tipped his head on one side. 'You know why, Rupert.'

Giles wasn't that gullible. 'No, actually I don't. Enlighten me.'

Angel smiled, as if enjoying the game. 'I kinda felt like seeing old friends, ya know?'

'Ah. Why come to Sunnydale then?'

Angel's smile slipped off, and he came forward toward the counter. Giles could have staked himself then - however much he had meant not to let Angel intimidate him, he couldn't help a small step back at this approach.

'I want it to end.'

Giles' jaw dropped slightly and, before he could weigh the prudence of his reply, he snapped back, 'Who the hell are you to come here and demand that?'

Angel banged his fist onto the counter, rattling cups. 'He's got no fucking right.'

'Bloody hell! No wonder you're ruddy history. Did you hear that, Angel? History. You two are finished, and I can't say I'm surprised now.'

Angel, in a frightening display of his deceptive speed and power, vaulted the counter and pressed Giles by the throat to the wall. 'You're going to stop it, Giles. I can't. He isn't afraid of me, but you are. You, of all people, should be. Do you remember how it felt, Giles? Do you still wake up and feel parts of me in you? I guess you do. I still think about you sometimes, ya know? When I'm killing something. Makes me feel good. So, you go around there tonight; you do it calmly; you do it any fucking way you like, but you end it. Do you understand me, or do I have to make myself clearer…?'

'I think you've made yerself clear 'nough, Angelus. Fucking let 'im go, or we'll finally get to see which of us is better, won't we?'

Angel turned lazily and looked at Spike in the doorway. 'Fuck off, Spike; this isn't about you.'

Giles let out a small, strangled snort and, best as he could - given a huge, bone-crushing hand was choking him - said, 'It's all about him, Angel. You've lost him. Face it.' This bold declaration over, Giles closed his eyes, and waited to die.

Surprised when the hand was released, he peered nervously out of half-closed lids. Angel was staring at him with a deep frown. 'Riley is fucking Spike, too?'

There was a long pause in the room while all three males rewound, rethought, and regrouped. Spike recovered first and chuckled at the other two, waving his hand dismissively at them. 'Wankers.'

Angel gritted his teeth and looked at Giles. 'He's told you about us?'

Giles shook his head, bemused. 'Shouldn't I have just said that?'

Angel seemed to find this confusing and opened his mouth to reply, but shut it lamely and looked at Spike for support. Spike jerked his head back and shook it a little. 'Don't look at me, mate; you sort it out between ya.'

Angel stepped courteously back from Giles and even made an attempt to straighten the human's shirt for him. Giles smacked his hand away. 'Did you just come into my home and threaten me - imply you were going to torture me again - for someone else's relationship? My, God! You arrogant bastard, Angel.'

Sensing that something good was going to happen, Spike stationed himself on the couch for a good view and lit a cigarette.

Angel lowered his brow again but knew he was badly in the wrong. He backed away a little and glanced down at the floor.

Giles sighed, cursed himself for being such a soft touch, but added more gently, 'You wanted her to have this, Angel. It's why you left.'

Angel didn't lift his head, but he pursed his lips a little. 'Not with him.'

'Angel, would it make any difference who it was? It's what he represents that you can't abide.'

'Like you then, Rupert.' At this, Angel lifted his eyes and turned the full power of his soulful expression on the human. Giles fought it, he cursed inwardly, but he had to admit the seductive intensity of that look.

'Can I just remind everyone, that I am still here?'

As one, Angel and Giles chorused, 'Fuck off, Spike.' They couldn't help small, complicit grins at this, and Giles took a leap of faith. 'Drink?'

Angel seemed very relieved to have an excuse to back out of the small kitchen without loss of face, and nodded, sitting on the other end of the couch.

Giles poured and handed out drinks, and then sat opposite the two vampires on the coffee table.

Spike took a sip, kept his eyes lowered to his glass, but said with a smirk, 'Anyone for a shag then?'

Giles looked at Angel. Angel looked back at him. Giles raised his eyebrows and said, 'Perhaps you'd like him back?'

Angel twitched his lips and went back to studying his glass.

Giles started to feel hot and shook his shoulders slightly, wondering if the heating was set too high. He felt a strange pricking on his skin: pressure, as if a storm was building somewhere. The light in the room almost shifted to a pre-tempest, sickly yellow. Sweat began to prick under his arms and on his forehead, and he put a hand up to remove his glasses.

In the resulting blur, he finally saw clearly. It was the vampires: their preternatural bodies sparking off each other, pheromones pouring into the air, testosterone heating the atmosphere. Giles suddenly felt naked, raw. They both knew his body so well, albeit for different reasons: his weaknesses, his vulnerabilities, his desires, and his needs. He knew them as well. They had all bathed in each other's sweat, tears, blood, spit, and cum. The physicality of the moment threatened to overwhelm him. He couldn't take his eyes off Angel's hands, remembered every moment that they had lain on him, stroked over him before they gave him such unbelievable pain. The eyes still drew him; he felt their seductive influence and feared to look more closely.

It was the final test, and he suddenly saw himself failing. What did he want? Did he really want to bathe once more in that dark body's delights? Did he want to feel Angel in more subtle ways: test his need against that ancient, powerful, male body? Desperate not to allow the thought in, Giles tired to concentrate on silence, but he could not stop it: what he really wanted was to watch Spike with Angel. He wanted to see Spike without restraint. He wanted to see those bodies clash and war for dominance. Even more painfully, another thought slithered in. Giles knew that, for all his protestations to the contrary, Spike wanted it, too. How could he not? Giles' tortured blood called out for this ancient power to claim him once more; Spike's need to be with his sire would be irresistible.

Giles knew what would happen if he let go: if he let them all go upstairs to the place where they could explore such need. They would play together, overtaken by the moment, heedless to the consequences, heedless to the fragile equilibrium he had managed to establish with Spike between their essential incompatibilities.

Giles closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping desperately that this would pass, that he could withstand and, in the darkness, subtle, different needs began to gain dominance. He wanted to hear Spike's voice, and this made him smile. He wanted to hear what Spike thought, and that made him want to laugh. He wanted to lie in Spike's arms later that night and hear the vampire's transparent lies about Angel and tease him for them. He wanted to kiss the man he had come to know beneath that vampire exterior. He wanted Angel to go, so they could be alone. Giles opened his eyes, finished cleaning his glasses and put them back on.

'Was there anything else you wanted, Angel?'

Angel leant back on the couch. Giles noticed he had not touched his drink. Without taking his eyes off the human, Angel said softly, but clearly not to Giles, 'He resists well. I had forgotten.'

Spike, also looking at Giles, grinned. 'An' he's just been promoted for it. Favoured childe now.'

'Err….'

Angel stood up and stretched. 'Remember, childe of mine, twenty years is but a blink of an eye for the eternal.'

'Err…' Giles felt his interjections were feeble, but he wasn't entirely sure that this conversation was about him, and was too embarrassed to clarify the situation.

Angel chuckled and paused by the door, looking at Giles. 'Take care to always be as faithful to your new sire as you just have been, human. Treat my loan with respect. Do not displease me.' With that, he left, the soft closing of the door almost painful in the charged atmosphere.

Giles felt something surging through his body, a residual force that he could not dispel. He looked at Spike and saw, with a deep tingle in his spine, that the vampire's eyes were a dilated, deep blue. He stood. Spike stood. Giles grabbed him so hard that Spike's shirt tore. Spike batted his hand away and captured Giles by the back of neck, pulling him into his mouth. They tore at each other's lips, frantically kissing over faces and necks. Giles ripped his glasses off and threw them behind him. Spike snatched at Giles' jeans and, in the scuffle, Giles fell backward over the table, smashing it to fragments. Pumped up with so much sexual tension, Giles didn't care, or notice, if he was hurt, so Spike was free to fall on him with a desperate need. Giles staggered up, trying to remove his clothes. He had one last rational thought and said, 'Door,' before all was lost to the power of his need to orgasm in Spike's body. As Spike locked the door, Giles managed to get his jeans off. When Spike turned around, the human stood in the middle of the floor, his erection standing proud, poking through bottom of his shirt. Spike flung himself back at the human, and they crashed into the bookcase. Giles spread-eagled Spike and tore at his jeans, ripping them down to his knees. He tried to enter Spike, couldn't, and pushed him hard, so he bent over the table. He drove himself in the vampire, tearing Spike, the blood making the first pull out exquisite. Spike moaned his delight at the scent of blood and at the pain that flared out and spread through his body. He tried to steady himself as the human rode him, grabbed the table, grabbed anything he could find for support. Music suddenly blared into the room, still full volume from its last playing.

Giles wrenched Spike's hands away from the player and crashed him to the floor, dislodging his penis from the slick anus for a moment. He cursed the lost of sensation and prised Spike apart for another entry. Spike rose and dipped his body to the music, keening his delight at being fucked to the rock rhythm.

Giles laughed at his lover's pleasure and re-entered, hard, fast, and with a need to cum so urgent that his ears began to hum with the pressure. Spike pushed his face into the rug, clawing his fingers, spreading his legs as wide as he could. Giles knelt to his hole and thought about nothing else but release. Finally, it came. He cried out and pulled back a fraction, just to watch his thick shaft pulsate. Spike's rectum begged to be filled, so Giles sent spill after spill of warm sperm in to coat its walls, filling the tight spaces. It began to leak out with his final thrusts, glistening opaquely on the pale skin. He felt an immediate post orgasmic slump, the unnatural tension Angel's body had induced in him dissipating with the release of this fluid.

He fell out of Spike, panting, bleeding from injuries he had not realised he had sustained, exhausted and deafened by someone demanding that he sanctify them. He lay on the mat, relieved it was over. Then a pale face appeared above him. Then eyes, still so dilated and aroused that he hissed slightly in anticipation, blinked slowly. Then a hard object battered against his thigh, a hand lifted his leg.

In his exhaustion and strain, Giles almost said no… but then the vampire was inside him. Exquisitely gently, inch by delightful inch, Spike entered Giles, and the filling was delicious. It took away his tension; it relieved his anxiety. Giles looked up at Spike's face, as the vampire softly rode in and out of him. Spike smiled down at him. Giles breathed out slowly, as he absorbed the incredible fact that the vampire's look had been paternal, that Spike was making love to his new childe, that he had allowed his novice to expend his weak human energy and need against his invulnerable body in order for the childe to lie supine as he was claimed.

The demand to be sanctified stopped, the track changed. Spike paused, waiting. When he began again, he was even gentler, his hands running over Giles' sweating skin softly caressing, his hips just rising and lowering, easing himself in and out of the frail body. As he got closer, he lowered himself to Giles. He grasped the warm shoulders, and laid his forehead on the soft belly. Gripped, embraced, possessed, Giles felt the cool sperm deep in his body, felt the marking, the sharing. Baptised by Spike's release, Giles lay finally complete. His strivings ceased, his flesh retired, nothing of the heat of his desire remained, as that cool balm eased through his body.

v Enveloped in the stronger body, utterly safe and calm, Giles let the night slip away from him. When he woke in the morning, he was too stiff to move - too sore to attempt it anyway - but happier than he had been since he had begun this strange journey at those quiet words, 'I can help.'

He lifted his head slightly to the blond, rumpled mass on him and wondered if Spike had had some precognition of this moment when he had said those words. Giles realised that Spike was still in him. He chuckled and laid his head back down. He looked around the room with wonder. Furniture was smashed, books lay scattered over the floor, and still the music played on full volume, trapped on its electronically eternal cycle. Giles chuckled and tapped Spike on the back until the vampire grunted an annoyed, 'Fuck off.'

He kissed the soft, messy hair and tired again, 'Shower? Together?'

'K then.' With a grin Spike rose and held out his hand to Giles. They managed to get him to sitting, and then Spike hefted him to the couch.

'Bloody hell.'

'That'll teach ya to sleep on the floor.'

'I think it was falling through the coffee table actually, but you might be right.'

Spike stood and looked at him. 'So, how quickly could you get upstairs then?'

Giles chuckled and shook his head ruefully. 'What's the urgency?'

'Nothin', only… Summers, Harris, and Red are 'bout to get 'ere. I'd say….' He paused as if listening to something, 'Twenty seconds.'

Giles looked at the blood and cum stains on the rug first. Then he looked at the broken furniture. Only lastly, did he looked at Spike's nakedness, and then his own.

Spike laughed at the unusually fast movement from someone purporting to be stiff, as he leisurely pulled on his own jeans and T-shirt. As the group arrived and knocked, surprised by the locked door, he was straightening the furniture and pulling a chair over the offending stains.

He turned off the music, unlocked the door, and ushered them in, trying to take their outrage at his presence seriously.

By the time Giles came down, dressed and decent, an argument was raging in the middle of his living room: Spike enjoyably defending himself from accusations that he'd caused the damage, and that Giles was lying somewhere even more damaged, or dead.

Giles covered well by picking from a numerous list of demons that could have caused the damage and claiming that one of them had. Not fully convinced, Buffy allowed herself to be distracted by helping Giles to pick up his books and, within a relatively short time, they were all happily ensconced with their various areas of research.

Giles couldn't concentrate on his reading. He desperately wanted them all to go, so he could talk to Spike. He needed to speak about Angel, to find out why he had come, and what that strange encounter had been about. Most of all, he wanted to talk about what they had done together in the aftermath of Angel's visit: his furious passion, and Spike's blessing.

When he felt calm enough, he looked up. Spike was watching him, his feet up on the desk, swinging his chair lazily on its back legs, smoking. Giles smiled shyly, and Spike twitched his lips in response. Then, with a small rise of one eyebrow, he turned the music back on again, softly this time, the intense rock rhythm only emphasised more by this muting.

Xander looked up and winced. 'Yikes. Oldie music! Off maybe?'

Giles, still staring at Spike, said neutrally, 'It's eternal music, Xander, and I rather like it.'

He suddenly chuckled and stretched back in his chair, happy to read. He didn't want them to leave - Spike would still be there when they did go. He didn't need to talk to Spike now - they would talk later, long into the night.

After a few moments, aware that Spike still watched him, he said apparently to no one in particular, 'Does it ever get any better than this?'

Three puzzled looks greeted this question. He wasn't bothered by them; it was the soft, amused, confident 'Nah' from the direction of the music that made him close his eyes with a small nod of pleasure at this private understanding.

The End