Written on the Wind

Title: No Illusions

Rating: NC-17.

Notes: Post NFA, Angel and Spike are on the run from demon assassins. Then something really scary happens. About 6,000 words.

The beginning of my Buffy/Spike/Angelverse, but written after the threesome trilogy. Originally posted in the "Decade of Spike" LJ community that was created to celelebrate the tenth anniversary of Spike's first appearance on BtVS.

Disclaimer: All characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc. Only the lame plots and dialogue herein are mine.

Special thanks to Keswindhover and DorothyL for the beta.

Spike raced for the exit, then skidded and almost ran into Angel as his sire halted abruptly. "What now?" he growled.

"They left one guarding the doors." Angel raised his axe and prepared to fight his way past the demon barring his way.

Doors? Spike quelled his first impulse, which was to beat Angel out for the kill, and glanced over his shoulder. He remembered that this corridor led to a back entrance of the elderly hotel. Two doors would mean two guards. Angel really was getting old. And sloppy. Good thing he has me looking after him.

At some point in the fight upstairs, Spike had picked up one of the Sabahites' swords. He raised it just as another huge warrior came lurching around the corner toward him. Spike's blade met and deflected the demon's first blow.

The hotel employees were nowhere to be seen. Spike couldn't smell human blood, so he hoped they'd fled or were huddling somewhere and hadn't been killed by the hit squad of Sabahite assassins that had sniffed out his and Angel's latest hiding place. Huge bastards, they were, with mottled, scaly skins and nasty teeth. Fortunately, their hides were no harder to pierce than a human's. He parried another blow and called the creature in front of him a few names. Then he called Angel a few more, just because he felt like it.

He and Angel were fighting back-to-back in the lobby, trying not to slip on the linoleum floor. Spike's opponent jumped away from a thrust, and he moved forward to follow it. It retreated again.

"They're playing for time," yelled Angel.

"Bugger." Just when I was starting to enjoy myself. Spike leapt up and forward, kicked his opponent in the balls, and, as the creature doubled over, sliced its head off. As he turned, he heard the death rattle from the one that had attacked Angel.

Angel was pointing to the glowing numbers over a set of elevator doors. They were counting down slowly.

Spike started doing sums. Angel and I each took out one and got another together--no matter what he says, that was a shared kill--and we each got another down here. That's five, so there can't be more than seven in there.

And they've reached the second floor, which means our chances of outrunning them are...

He looked at the door to the street. It was chained shut. The demons had planned their ambush well. He and Angel would have to break that chain first, and then…

The "L" for lobby lit up. That moment of hesitation had made their choice for them. Irritated, he asked, "Don't the buggers know they should take the stairs in an emergency?"

Ignoring the question, Angel yanked his axe out of the body lying at his feet as the elevator pinged. "Ready?"

Spike nodded, his sword held over his shoulder and ready to strike. "By the way, Angel, in case I don't make it this time..."

"Yeah?" Angel looked up from his stance on the other side of the elevator, his expression intense.

"Do you remember where we parked?"

Angel growled and switched to game face.

Slowly, the doors slid open.

Spike swallowed hard as he saw what was inside. All his sums hadn't added up to anything like this. "Oh, bugger. We're in for it now, mate."

***

Buffy stepped over the bodies of the three demons she'd slain on the way down to the lobby, lifting her feet carefully to avoid getting any more purple blood than necessary on her new leather boots. An axe swung from one hand as she measured its balance again. Clumsy. It had been functional, but she really preferred her own equipment.

Unfortunately, she'd lost a sword in the stomach of a demon on the tenth floor, just before diving into the elevator to deal with the ones trying to escape her and/or find their prey.

Three demons and a Slayer jump into a hotel elevator. Who is not reaching the lobby alive?

Speaking of the dead, two vampires were standing on either side of the elevator, one with his own axe, the other with a sword, both of them looking surprised and a bit scared as their fangs receded and their human faces appeared. And they should be scared. They are in sooo much trouble.

First things first. She glanced at the bodies on the lobby floor. They were both very, very dead. And that should keep them from causing any more trouble, unlike some people she could mention. On to second things.

"Uh, Buffy." Angel found his voice first.

"Nice to know you still recognize me."

Spike was just staring at her. He wasn't looking as if he had any problems remembering her either. The expression in his eyes made her swallow hard.

"Uh, Buffy?" Angel's voice. "There may be more of them on the way." He gestured upward.

"Trying to change the subject?" Or distract my attention from Spike? She waved a hand at the bodies lying on the floor and in the elevator. One of her kills had slipped halfway out, blocking the door from closing. The door kept banging into the body, pinging, and sliding back open. "They run in packs of twelve. I slew four upstairs, and I saw three other bodies lying in that huge mess you made. So with my other three, and your two…" She pretended to count on her fingers, just to rub the final totals in a bit. Yes, it's childish, but after everything they've put me through this past year, a little reminder of who's the Chosen One and who are the annoying bloodsuckers is past due.

***

Angel wondered if he was hallucinating, right up to the moment when Buffy started counting up the kills. Then he was sure she was no illusion. She was there, in front of him, wearing leather pants and a top that looked more like underwear than what she usually wore, and carrying a big axe that was dripping with gore. Hoarsely, he forced his attention away from her cleavage and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Keeping you two safe. Really, Angel, just who or what did you two think was saving your ass every fifteen minutes or so while you rocketed all over the country on this insane road trip?"

"Kind of wondered if the Blue Meanie was around, or maybe even …" Spike's voice trailed off.

Buffy shook her head. "Illyria's in Cleveland with Faith."

Angel realized he was rubbing his head. "Illyria. Faith. Cleveland." A song from a kid's show (thankfully, not Smile Time) started running through his head. One of these things is not like the others…

It was left to Spike to demand, "How'd that happen?"

Even Buffy looked a little confused by her revelation. "I don't know. They--I'm not sure bonded is the right word, but there were a couple of conversations about Bad Things They Did to Wesley, and the next thing I know, Faith is taking her off to the wilds of Ohio so they can kill things together. They seemed happy enough about it, but who knows with those two?"

Memories of someone else he'd abandoned hit Angel. "There was another friend of ours. Charles Gunn."

Again, her news was so strange as to seem nearly gibberish. "Gunn's going to be okay. He's in physical rehab in Minnesota."

All Angel could think to say was, "Why?"

"Giles said there's a kind of mystical dampening field over the upper Midwest. Whatever. He's safe there."

Angel shook his head hard. Nope. Still not an illusion. Buffy was here, and he was really hearing these things. "I mean, how did he get there?"

"It was a few of the Slayers we sent to help when you guys were bringing the Wrath of Hell, not to mention some dragons, down on your heads. They found him at the hospital where you dumped him, and managed to kidnap him just before the next wave of bad guys arrived."

The wave of bad guys that drove us from the hospital and onto the road, away from Gunn in some crazy hope of drawing them off. "You sent the Slayers?" As he started to really believe it, he was overwhelmed with relief. I didn't get Gunn killed after all.

"Yeah. They were watching you. We were expecting…" Angel winced at the hurt in her expression. "When they realized it wasn't what we thought, they moved in to pick off some of the demons at the back of that horde that was attacking you. By the time they reached Illyria, you two had jumped down a sewer tunnel with Gunn, and it took us a half a day to figure out where you'd left him, and a full day to figure out where you were heading. We've had a few girls who managed to stay on your tail ever since, but tonight was the first time I managed to follow the right trail to the right city and get in on the action." She tapped her foot. "Have I answered enough questions?"

"Yeah. For now." He wasn't making enough sense of what she'd told him so far to be ready for any more information.

Buffy took a deep breath. "Now. It's my turn."

***

Spike watched as Buffy took a deep breath. "Now. It's my turn."

She stepped up to face Angel, her face just inches from his, her chin raised so that their eyes met. "What the hell is the matter with you? You decided you were going to bring down the Senior Partners all by yourself? Or did you just want to make lots and lots of LA go boom?"

"I thought…" Angel started to say.

Buffy's words ran his down and ground them into the dirt. "If I'd known what you were really doing, I would have told you just how stupid it was!" She was still gripping her axe, and her knuckles were white. "I would have been able to get some people who actually know what they're doing to work on the problem! And I wouldn't have sent anyone else there to…to deal with things if dealing became necessary. I would have dropped that stupid job in Italy and come to help you myself. I just couldn't bear to watch if you were…"

"Sorry."

Spike saw the tears in her eyes. "I had to send you to hell once. Do you think I could ever, ever do that again?"

Spike was suddenly filled with an all too familiar feeling of desolation and abandonment. It was one thing to tell myself she didn't really mean it, that it would always be Angel for her, but why the devil did I have to come back to life and see it for myself? He turned to walk away.

***

Angel fought for words, his head hanging, trying to think of how to respond to Buffy's tirade. But before he could manage more than a poor, "Sorry," she turned away from him, dropping her axe to the floor.

Spike had been moving away down the hall, but Buffy was a blur as she chased him down. "Now." She hit Spike like a small bullet train going full speed and slammed him into a wall so hard the plaster gave way and he was backed up against a beam. "You, you stupid, bullheaded ass! What the hell did you mean, 'You don't mean it?' When I tell you something, you believe me, damn it, especially if you're going to explode two seconds later!"

Spike's eyes closed, then opened again. His arms hung limply at his sides. He looked stunned.

"Uh," said Angel. "Buffy, what are you talking about?"

"It's private. Between this horrible little weasel and me." She continued to rant at Spike. "And when you come back to life, you tell me, damn it, so that I don't spend nearly a year thinking that you died believing you weren't loved and there is no way I can ever, ever fix that!"

She gave Spike a shake. "Now, do you believe I love you or not, damn it?"

Now Spike's face was glowing with happiness, an expression so intense Angel found it painful to watch. "Yes." His voice was hoarse.

"And are you going to believe what I tell you from now on? Because I'm not ever going to lie to you, Spike, and that's a promise."

"Yes."

"Good." She let Spike go and marched to the front door of the hotel, where she grabbed hold of the chain holding it closed and yanked hard. Thick metal links uncurled and fell to the floor. "Let's get out of here. I think the guys who were working at the desk are about to break out of the dining room."

"The Sabahites locked them in the dining room?" asked Spike.

"No, I did." She swung the door open. "They were going to get hurt. And were yelling a lot."

***

That didn't go exactly the way I planned.

Although, to be fair, Buffy had to admit she'd made dozens of plans for this meeting, rejecting them one after the other as too angry, too sad, too sappy, too cheerful, or too violent. The trouble was, she didn't really know what she wanted from Spike and Angel. Or maybe it was that she wanted too many things and knew it was unlikely she'd get any of them. In the end, inevitably, she'd winged it.

And now she was standing on the sidewalk, her clothes and hair a mess, between two men who looked like they'd just been through a battle, and not just because their clothes were splattered with weird purple stains.

The only good thing was that she knew now just what she wanted. Unfortunately, what she wanted would have been an unlikely result under the best of circumstances, which were not the kinds of circumstances Buffy ever expected or got. And her angry behavior had only made those circumstances worse.

Buffy knew she wasn't any good handling Romance or Relationships. She had been cursed with Other Skills. Give her a demon or two to cope with and…She looked from the vampire standing on her right to the one on her left.

A demon or two…

"We're taking a cab." She stepped out into the street, waving an arm before she remembered that her top had been slit by a Sabahite's sword and she'd abandoned it in the elevator in the ten seconds she'd had for primping between slayage and confronting her exes. All she was wearing above the waist was a lacy, revealing camisole.

Five cabs skidded to a stop in front of the hotel.

"Eenie, meanie.." She selected one at random, opened the rear door, and gestured at Spike. "In." He stepped inside, looking wary. She hopped in after him, calling to Angel, "Come on! No, not up front, back here."

Angel slid onto the seat next to her, looking, if anything, more nervous than Spike.

Buffy gave the address of her hotel.

Angel protested. "We've got a car hidden on the other side of town."

"You're not going there," she told him.

"Why? Did more of the Senior Partners' minions find it?"

"I have no idea," she replied, not looking at him. She couldn't waste time worrying about whatever his crazy backup plan was. She was too busy putting her own impromptu plan into execution. Spike first. She knew Spike's body better, knew exactly where and how to touch him, could predict his reactions. She let her hand fall on his thigh and smiled, watching him sweat. Angel was saying something, but she ignored that, running her tongue over her lips as she admired the blue eyes she'd thought she'd never see again.

And when she'd learned he was alive, or undead again, she'd also heard tales of what he and Angel had been up to. That had kept her from running to LA to see him, and had made her afraid that she'd never see a certain look in those eyes again. No worries. I've still got it, at least as far as he's concerned.

She felt Angel move away from her, toward the door of the taxi. Before he could start wallowing in broodiness, or jump out of the cab, or do something else equally stupid, she turned her head, still keeping that grip on Spike's thigh, leaned her upper body in Angel's direction, pulled his head down towards her with her free hand, and gave him a long, open-mouthed kiss. He responded instantly and enthusiastically. I've still got him too.

But after his first, involuntary reaction, Angel pulled away, shocked, and turned to stare at Spike.

Spike was nuzzling Buffy's neck. She felt his thigh muscles clench under her hand and let her fingers creep up to his crotch. He muttered, "Oh, bugger. We really are in for it now, mate." He didn't sound very upset about it.

"Yes, you are," said Buffy as the cab pulled under the portico of her hotel's reception area.

***

Buffy pushed Angel into her room. She was towing Spike behind her by the hand, and he went along with that meekly. He wasn't about to make a bolt for it, but he wasn't about to object to touching any part of her either.

Angel, on the other hand, was fighting against the inevitable. Spike slammed the door shut and stood aside as his sire started bleating. "Buffy, thanks for saving us, but Spike and I shouldn't be putting you in danger by…"

Buffy shoved him against the closed door, stood on her tiptoes, and stuck her tongue down his throat again. When he turned his head away and started to protest, she kissed his neck and bit his ear. Whatever he'd been trying to say turned into a wordless moan.

That's it, my girl. Keep up the snogging, and give his crotch a bit of a fondle while you're at it. He can't resist that.

Spike looked around the room and realized they were in a sizeable suite. There was a door standing ajar a few feet away. He stepped up behind Buffy and began giving her neck the same treatment she was giving Angel's. Then he set his hands loose.

Buffy's hands were moving too. She'd undone the buttons on Angel's shirt and Spike saw her tongue, red and wet, flick out and tease one nipple. Angel stopped nattering about something or other, leaned back against the door, and started enjoying himself like any sane bloke would.

It might take Spike hours to get intoxicated on booze, but the feel of Buffy's warm, familiar body left him dizzy and disoriented after the first touch. He forgot Angel, letting himself slump against her, breathing in the scent of her arousal. His hands crept up under that silly scrap of fabric she wore, touching her breasts, giving special attention to the soft skin on the underside that he knew was so sensitive.

Buffy raised her head. "Bedroom," she said. "Now."

They stumbled into the next room, Angel moving like a sleepwalker and Spike doing his best to keep his hands on Buffy during the trip. Once inside, she turned to face him, and he tugged at the hem of her camisole, pulling it over her head. She did the same to his t-shirt, and then her hands were at his waist.

Stopping for long kisses, they undressed each other, their hands colliding and interfering with the process as much as they helped. Buffy shoved Spike onto the bed and pulled off his jeans, then he pulled her down next to him and returned the favor.

She was lying back on the bed now, spread out before him, but not watching him. She had turned to look at Angel, who was still standing by the bedroom door.

Gently, Spike cupped her chin in his hand and turned her face back to his. "Don't worry about Admiral Angst, love. He's not going anywhere, not with this show we're putting on for him." He kissed her with that same gentleness for a moment, and then gave up on playing the gentleman.

***

Angel watched as Spike made love to Buffy, kissing first her lips, then her breasts, and then settling himself between her legs. She gave a sigh of satisfaction, smiling in a way that showed she knew just how she was about to be pleasured and was more than a little pleased about it.

He knows her body so well. I feel clueless, useless next to that damn orally-fixated pain in my ass who's making her look like she's seen Paradise.

Buffy's eyes were half-closed now, and she was smiling serenely as she stroked the top of Spike's head with one hand. Then her head turned to one side, and her smile grew wider as she looked at Angel. She reached out to him with her other hand. "Come kiss me? Please?"

He found himself on the bed next to her without having made a conscious decision to move. He tried to kiss her tenderly, but soon she was moaning and clutching his shoulders, her tongue exploring his mouth as he felt her lower body thrust and writhe in response to Spike's efforts. But it was her scent that finally overwhelmed him.

He gave in to temptation.

***

Angel's body had slipped down against hers, and he was lying half on top of her, one of her breasts caught in his mouth as his fingers fondled the other. Buffy played with his hair as she turned to smile at Spike.

He was lying on her other side, looking as smug as if he'd just done something wonderful, which, of course, he had. So wonderful the people in the next room had banged on the wall when she screamed.

"I love you." She said the words just to make him look even happier. It worked. She decided to press her luck. "Spike, do something for me."

"What did you have in mind?" Now, he looked curious, but cautious.

That's new. Once, he would have said, "Anything you want."

Buffy decided she liked the new boundaries he'd built between her will and his. Once, the weight of his devotion had made her feel responsible for his every action. But he was his own man now, and an old, uncomfortable burden had fallen from her shoulders. So she kissed him, long and lovingly, before saying, "Get those pants off him."

Now the mischief she felt was reflected in his face. Chuckling, and ignoring Angel's protests, he slid off the bed and started tugging on Angel's boots.

"Hey!" yelled Angel, trying to sit up. Buffy shoved him back down on the mattress.

Spike held up a boot. "I told you. Lifts."

Buffy started laughing.

***

I've made her laugh. Spike smirked. That's an even better sign than making her come, which I also did, and before my melancholy sire even got his pants off. In fact, I'm going have to get them off for him.

"I've got to do everything around here, I do," he grumbled as he reached for Angel's fly. Angel tried to push Spike's hands away and sit up, but Buffy grabbed the his wrists and held him down, his hands over his head. She was kissing him and rubbing her tits against his chest, and it was no surprise to Spike that his sire stopped struggling pretty quickly.

Still snickering, Spike tugged at a zipper, grabbed the waistband of Angel's pants, and yanked downward. No sense in being in too great a hurry. He released the fabric and squeezed Angel's exposed ass instead. Angel's hips bucked up, trying to shake off that roving hand. Undeterred, Spike sat on Angel's legs to hold him still as he tickled his balls and played with his erect cock.

Spike saw Buffy roll to one side just enough so she could peek down and get a view of this action. Very deliberately, he stuck out his tongue and licked the head of Angel's dick, stroking it as the foreskin retracted. He was unsurprised when she twisted further and pushed him back, muttering, "Mine," with a mischievous look.

Spike put his mouth to her ear. "This time," he murmured before moving to the foot of the bed to watch. He left Angel's jeans tangled around his knees. Spike knew how much his Slayer loved to suck cock, and he didn't want Angel to suffer a fit of Puritanism and try to shake her off.

She was his girl, and nothing was going to get in the way of her having a good time.

Besides, Spike was sure he could find a way to keep himself entertained while she was busy.

***

Angel hoped Buffy hadn't noticed Spike's wandering hands. He could hardly believe she had initiated this threesome; he couldn't believe that she knew that he and Spike had been screwing each other. He wasn't sure that was something even Buffy could cope with. He remembered how shy and inexperienced she'd been on their only other night together, how she'd gasped with surprise when he'd pleasured her.

He knew that since that time she'd slept with Spike, who was capable of almost anything, but surely she couldn't consider being with either or both of them if she knew what they'd been up to the past few months? He felt a wave of shame that both he and Spike had, in a sense, betrayed Buffy with each other.

It's not as if I was in love with Spike. Or even liked Spike. We still hate each other. It's just a comfort thing. And he's my responsibility, has been since Dru brought him home. And he's the only one who can really understand me, know what I feel, help me keep fighting.

But it's not as if I love him.

Angel was vaguely aware that there was a flaw in his logic, perhaps several major flaws, but he couldn't concentrate on anything except the feel of Buffy's lips and tongue as she kissed her way down his torso. Thankfully, Spike moved away before she reached his crotch, but then…

Buffy had learned a lot since that night they'd shared in Sunnydale. She'd learned to tease the head of a cock with her tongue, to slip it in and out of her mouth, caressing it with her lips. Her mouth was too small to take him in, so she wrapped one strong hand around the shaft and used it to excite him.

Amazing.

But I really shouldn't be letting her do this. He tried to pull away and sit up, but she shoved him back down with one hand.

"Did you want something, Slayer?" drawled the most annoying voice in the world.

Then Angel saw what Spike was doing.

***

Buffy hadn’t just noticed Spike's fondling of Angel; she'd also picked up on Angel's attempt to hide it from her.

He's going to be difficult about that. It doesn't matter that anyone else can see how much they've come to depend on each other and mean to each other. Angel still won't want to admit how he feels about Spike after all their fighting and cursing each other. And after all the jealousy over me, too.

Spike won't want to admit he cares either, but he won't mind saying he enjoys the sex.

I'm going to have to break that down somehow. For one thing, I'm getting too old to put up with that much drama from anyone but Dawn. And for another, the thought of watching the two of them together is just so damn hot!

But right now, she was enjoying getting her hands and mouth on Angel's cock too much to worry about how to get him to play nicely with Spike.

This wasn't a game she'd been ready to play the night that Angel took her virginity and she'd accidentally taken his soul. Well, she definitely wasn't a virgin any more, and Willow had told her that Angel's soul was anchored more securely now.

That first night, Buffy hadn't done more than touch Angel tentatively. He'd done most of the work then, and he'd been very good at it, introducing her slowly and luxuriously to the pleasure of being kissed and teased to orgasm before he'd penetrated her. Even then, he'd been careful to ensure she'd enjoyed that part of the process, although she'd been much more impressed with the things he'd done to her body before and after.

Now, she was returning the favor, and enjoying it very much. She loved holding a man and teasing him like this. It didn't just taste and feel good; there was a sense of power and control that went with it.

Maybe fear of loss of control was why Angel was still protesting a little, even though it was obvious he was getting off on it too. If he really wants to get away, he can. But if he just wants to fuss, well, I'm not putting up with that any more than I'm guessing Spike did.

Angel made another half-hearted attempt to escape her, but as she pushed him back down she realized his pants were tangled around his calves, making him even easier to keep at her mercy. Spike had done that on purpose, she was sure. No, Spike wouldn't put up with the drama either.

It's nice to feel that Spike has my back in a campaign again. She realized that, in fact, Spike had more than her back. He had her butt.

He was playing with her ass, tickling and squeezing, even biting a little with blunt teeth. She pushed back against his hands, unwilling to take her mouth off Angel long enough to make a demand, but feeling an enormous need now that her body was the object of Spike's attention again.

In the years since her first night with Angel, she'd learned to enjoy many things, and the feel of Spike's cock inside her was one of them. She shifted her position a little, still kneeling, but with her legs further apart.

"Did you want something, Slayer?" drawled Spike.

I really hope that's a rhetorical question.

Apparently it was, because Spike thrust into her smoothly, his cock filling her pussy and striking just the right spot on its way in.

Not only had Spike found a way to make himself useful, any worries that Angel was really an unwilling participant in this game disappeared as he began to mutter encouragement. "Do that again, Buffy, please. Oh my god, that's amazing, don't stop…"

Not poetry, but still music to my ears. And I was afraid this would be too much of a good thing, but it's really lots of two good things. Buffy found a rhythm, stroking Angel's cock in time to Spike's thrusts. They were both gasping and swearing now, and she knew she had them close.

Synchronized sex? Let's see… She tensed muscles and increased pressure a bit. She was rewarded by a howling duet, and she suddenly wanted to laugh so much she nearly choked as they both came, Angel finally untensing and collapsing against the sheets, while Spike draped himself over her back, licking and kissing the nape of her neck.

***

Angel found himself lying with his head on the pillow next to Buffy's. She'd let one vampire curl up on either side of her. Angel noticed that Spike had his head on her shoulder, and that one insatiable hand was playing with her breasts.

Angel abandoned thoughts of Spike to stare into green eyes that were shining with love and trust. If I had any breath, that sight would take it away. "Buffy, no matter what happens, thank you. Thank you for this night."

Spike, of course, had to find a way to attract attention back himself. "What, you think we're done?" he protested. "That wasn't nearly enough for her for one night, mate."

Buffy answered, "One night isn't enough either. That wasn't what I had in mind." Spike moved to a half-sitting position, giving her one of his abandoned-puppy looks. It worked, because Buffy smiled tenderly and ran her hand through his curls. "I told you. And you said you believed me."

Spike didn't abandon the puppy dog expression right away. "In case you haven't noticed, pet, we're on the lam."

"Noticed? As if I haven't had half my Slayers protecting you! It's obvious to me that you two need looking after."

Now Spike was grinning, happier than Angel had seen him in nearly a century. "And you're just the girl to do it?"

Angel pulled himself up on one elbow and protested. "Buffy, you can't. I can't let you."

"And here comes the Baron of Broodiness…" Spike was rolling his eyes.

Angel ignored him. "I'm serious, Buffy. Everything and everyone I love is destroyed. I've watched one person after another die horribly, knowing that directly or indirectly, I've been the cause. How can I put you at risk of that?"

***

I really do have to take care of everything around here. Spike snorted and prepared to derail Angel's latest excursion into pointless self-sacrifice. "Are you still at that, Mr. Mopey? Seems to me that she's found herself in any and all kinds of trouble without any help from you. And that her and me are the only ones you never manage to shake off."

He thought for a moment that Buffy would start one of her bloody speeches, and that she and Angel would start wrangling. You'd think they enjoyed arguing more than shagging, the way they always went on. But this time, Buffy just pulled herself up to seated position and kept her eyes on his face.

Spike turned his attention back to Angel. "Look at us. You abandon us, and we follow you. We die, but we always come back, and sooner or later we wind up on your doorstep. You get in a fight, who has your back? You silly wanker, where did you wind up after you were sent to hell, supposedly never to return? If you're looking for messages, you should take that hint and realize you're stuck with us."

Angel was sitting quietly too. Spike realized the stupid git was paying attention for once. Maybe he was even agreeing with an idea that wasn't his own. Not that he'll ever admit it. Likes to think he has no illusions, that he sees the world for the hell it is. Refuses to see that there are times when it can be close to heaven too, and that any bloke with a grain of sense grabs hold of those moments and hangs on as tight as he can, damn the past and bugger the future.

Buffy sighed dramatically. "Spike, you're such a romantic. Every girl's dream. Stuck with her handsome but disaster-prone men as she staggers from apocalypse to apocalypse."

Yeah, well, Slayer, tonight I've inhaled your scent, tasted you, felt up every bit of you, and seen your beautiful face filled with happiness. I've heard you say you loved me. You can bleat all you want, but no matter how world-weary you try to sound, I know you're as over the moon as I am right now.

He tackled her. "You love it, Slayer. Now, let's stop all this jabbering and get on with the business of the evening." He nodded in Angel's direction. "If you're still afraid he's about to run off, we could tie him to the bed."

Captain Grouchypants started to protest but his expression was so eager there was no chance of anyone taking him seriously.

The Slayer didn't. Her face was alive with anticipation. Alive is good. Alive is brilliant.

"Now, that's a fun idea," she said. She reached down to grab a belt that had been abandoned at the foot of the bed.

"Yeah." Spike saw that Angel was trying to slip away from them, but moving just slowly enough to ensure he could be easily caught. He lunged and grabbed his sire. "From now on, we're going to have a little less brooding and a lot more fun around here."

The End