After Spike Left

Angel, a slashfic in five parts

Rating: NC-17 for graphic male-male sex

Pairings: primarily Angel/Wesley and Angel/Spike

Disclaimer: "Angel" and "Buffy," with their related characters and themes, belong to Joss Whedon and others, not to me. I make no money from this venture.

Dedication: This slashfic is for Ewan McGregor and Alexis Denisof. What pretty...names.

Wherein demons explode; Spike makes unscheduled appearances; and The Amazing Angst Man and His Trusty Sidekick, Watcher Boy, battle the forces of darkness.

Notice: This is the fourth part of "Angel." Have you read parts one through three?

"Angel" Part Four: After Spike Left

Angel had to get cleaned up, get dressed, and get fed before he could go. When he hit the sidewalk he ran into Buffy. "Buffy."

"Angel." She pushed back a strand of hair and looked up at him. "I didn't think you'd still be here."

"Why not?"

"Well, with Wesley gone-"

"Wesley's gone?"

She frowned. "He left last night, right after you took off. We haven't seen him since; I assumed he went back to L.A., with you."

"Have you seen Spike?"

"I was just coming to get him."

"Damn it!" Angel took off for Giles's. Once there, he questioned Giles, who confirmed that Wesley had vanished complete with suitcase and car. No one had seen or heard from Spike. Angel used Giles' phone and called Cordelia, who hadn't seen Wesley but promised to run over to Wesley's apartment to check.

Angel turned to the others. "We need to find them. Both of them. Spike first, he may still be in town."

"We'll split up and look," Buffy said. "What am I saying? Angel...why?"

"We'll split up and look," Giles said. "When we find him, we'll try to bring him back here. One does assume that he's still incapable of doing us great physical harm."

Angel nodded. "You should be...safe."

"Is something going on here that suddenly you're all concerned?" Xander asked Angel.

"I want Spike to come back to L.A. with me," Angel said.

"Great," Xander said. "The sooner we find him, the sooner he leaves, the sooner you leave, everybody's happy. Let's get moving."

"It will be a shame to lose such a powerful, if ambiguous, ally," Giles said.

"I can get the job done without a vampire helping me," Buffy said.

"Of course," Giles said. "I didn't mean to imply that at all. Perhaps we should...get moving."

They split up and went looking. Angel walked the familiar streets, moved through the familiar shadows and alleys, marveled at how little Sunnydale had changed. He'd changed. He'd loved and lost and loved again. Not that his love life was going too well at the moment. He was supposed to be in L.A. saving the innocent, not wallowing in this self-indulgence. What did he think that he was doing? He wanted not one but two great loves of his life at once! He was selfish and greedy. It would serve him right if he never tracked down either Spike or Wesley. He deserved to be miserable and lonely. He had a lot to atone for, and he should spend the rest of his life fighting evil in L.A. alone.

He got back to Giles' to check in with the others and found them there waiting for him.

"It's about time you showed up," Anya said.

"What happened?" he asked, looking to Buffy.

"We found Wesley's car," Buffy said. "Spike's driving it."

"What?"

"We don't know where Wesley is," Giles said. "It seems that Spike stole another car, started to leave town, and found Wesley's car abandoned along the highway. Spike came back here to ask what had happened, then took Wesley's car and left. We were unable to make him stop."

"So Spike just took off somewhere in Wesley's car, and no one knows where. And Wesley's disappeared," Angel said. "Was his suitcase there?"

"The suitcase was gone," Giles said. "The car looks fine."

"Spike seemed upset," Willow said. "He was even more snappy and snarly than usual."

"He was worried about Wesley," Anya said. "And he was glad that you weren't here."

"Spike and Wesley are gone and no one knows where they went," Angel said, just to make sure, just to hear it from his own mouth.

"Don't you need Wesley?" Willow asked. "He gets the visions for the people you help. The Powers That Be wouldn't just let him leave, would they?"

"They might," Giles said. "I'm sorry, Angel."

"What are you going to do?" Willow asked Angel.

"Find them," Angel said. "Do you have any idea which way they went?"

"Spike found Wesley's car heading west, and that seems to be the way that Spike was headed as well," Giles said. "But we don't know where either of them went from that spot."

"You'll keep an eye out, check any sources?" Angel asked.

"Of course," Giles said. "Good luck."

"Thank you." Angel looked around the group. "Bye."

"Bye," Willow said softly.

Angel went back to Spike's. He didn't know what he'd been thinking. Spike had marched out dressed only in pants, barefoot and barechested. If only he'd waited, Spike would have come back, and this situation could have been avoided easily. Instead he'd acted quickly and thoughtlessly, and now...

He saw immediately that Spike had moved out for good. All of Spike's belongings were gone, every last scrap.

He called Cordelia, who was keeping an eye out for Wesley. Then he got a rental car and took off himself. He went to L.A., the only place he could think of to go. He'd contact everyone he could, have everyone looking for the two of them.

He'd been too greedy.

He remembered the slow twist of Spike's naked body beneath him. The feel of Wesley's warm silken skin under his fingers.

He went to L.A., talked with Cordelia, and started to place phone calls. He tracked down the good, the bad, and the ugly of the California underground. He contacted people (loosely defined) in New York, Chicago, London, Dublin, D.C., and Miami. He phoned in favors and put himself in debt. He called Kate. He called Giles.

He didn't call the Watchers. It was highly possible that they were keeping an eye on Wesley anyway. He didn't want to have anything to do with them, and if they got to Wesley first, he might never see Wesley again.

A week passed without word. He checked in regularly with Kate and Giles, made reminder calls to everyone else, and spent every night from sundown to sunrise walking the streets, looking for his loves.

And he'd thought that Buffy hurt him? At least he knew where she was. At least he had concrete worries for her; he didn't know where Spike or Wesley was, he didn't know what the two of them were doing or with whom, he didn't have any idea what kinds of trouble they were in now. And there had to be some trouble, of some sort; he loved them dearly but they tended to walk into bad situations.

A month passed. He was getting back to work. The office got calls from people in trouble, and Kate needed a hand now and again, so Angel went back on duty. But he never forgot his first priority: Spike and Wesley, Wesley and Spike.

A second month passed. Cordelia had to remind him to eat and sleep. When he wasn't occupied with protecting the city, he spent his time sitting in his office in the dark. Cordelia and Giles spoke daily.

Cordelia told him to go downstairs to get some rest, leaving the office with a frustrated sigh. He wondered once more why love always hurt. Doyle had come very, very close to making him happy, and Doyle had died. Buffy had made him a bit too happy, and he'd turned; before and after that, there was a lot of frustration, a lot of pain, for both of them. Spike had made him happy; Spike had been his love and his life, his son and his brother, his lover and his best friend, his sole companion and his soulless soulmate. Just recently, they'd found each other again, and he'd thought that they could be together, that they might be able to love once more. And Wesley, he knew that he could be happy with Wesley, if only Wesley would believe in him. If only...

He couldn't be with Buffy. He couldn't be with Doyle. Spike and Wesley were out there, somewhere...

He forced himself to rise, to leave. He went down to his apartment, took the lift. Stepped off the lift and heard a voice. A voice that made his knees weak, his mouth dry, his soul twist. There were suitcases by the sofa.

"Bloody - - someone's here. Don't move."

Angel stepped off of the lift and found his voice. "Spike?"

Spike wandered out of the bathroom as blase as ever. "Angel. We broke in; I hope you don't mind."

"Wesley?"

"In the bathroom getting dressed. It's been a long trip."

"Spike..."

"I won't be around long, don't worry. As for Wesley - - I got him here for you. It's up to the two of you how long he stays. Don't fuck up this time, Angel."

"You're leaving?"

"Places to go, people to see, blood to drink, you know how it is."

"Stay."

"Stay?"

"I want you to stay."

"Here? With you?"

"Here with me."

"Well. Can't say I've never had a more attractive offer. But I might as well hang around a bit and enjoy the fruits of my labors. Wes, pet, you dressed?"

Wesley stepped out of the bathroom, in pants and polished shoes and a shirt with the sleeves rolled. "Good evening, Angel. How have you been?"

"Hell was better," Angel said. "Where the fuck have the two of you been!" He saw two pairs of blue eyes go wide at his outburst. Frankly, he was so relieved that he was past caring, and he was so happy that he couldn't believe his soul was intact. He wanted to drag them to himself, to kiss them and hold them and undress them and make love to them, fuck them, drink from them, keep them close and never, ever, let go. He couldn't stop staring, had to let his eyes feast.

"England," Spike said. "Wesley went to England. When I found out that he'd disappeared, I thought that I might as well bring him back for you. I tracked him down, managed to get to England without getting sunburnt, spent quite a while arguing with the little bugger, and got him back here."

"All of this time you've been trying to bring him back to me?" Angel asked.

"Do you have every demon on two continents looking for us?" Spike asked.

"Yes!"

"And here I thought that I was becoming paranoid," Wesley said.

"Why didn't you call me?" Angel asked.

"I wanted it to be a nice surprise," Spike said.

"Why did you go?" Angel asked them.

"You wanted a pleasant relationship," Wesley said. "I thought that if I left it would be unpleasant and you'd forget about me."

"Stupid," Spike said.

"Why did you leave?" Angel asked Spike.

"I had reasons," Spike said. "So, I brought him back. You two going to shag or what?"

"You're staying. Both of you. Forever. I am not going through this again. I don't care if I have to tie you up-"

"We did that once before," Spike told Wesley. "Tied each other up to shag. I didn't think that he'd still be into that stuff."

"You're staying," Angel told them again. "Forever."

"You still want me?" Spike asked.

"Yes."

"You still want Wesley?" Spike asked.

"Yes."

"You've spent two months in Hell?"

"Yes. Why did you come back?" he asked Wesley.

"I couldn't stay away any longer," Wesley said. "I have duties here."

"No!" Spike shouted. "No no no you little - - Angel, he loves you. He was supposed to see you and kiss you and tell you that he loved you! We had it all worked out! And now it's all fucked to pieces - - start over. You go back in the lift and you stand here and I'll go wait in the corner. Try it again. You're supposed to do it like this, Angel comes in, you walk over," Spike walked over to Angel, "you kiss him," Spike cupped his jaw and kissed him, slow and sweet, "and then you look into his eyes and you say, Angel, I love you."

"I love you, Spike," Angel said.

"That wasn't me," Spike said. "That was me pretending to be Wesley, showing him how it's done."

"You don't love me?" he asked, and kissed Spike again, deep and passionate, harder and deeper, possessing Spike once more, being possessed.

"Wesley," Spike said into their kiss, and he remembered where he was, and he broke the kiss and raised his head.

"Spike," Angel said, and looked into Spike's eyes. "Spike, tell me that you love me."

"No."

"Spike."

"Fine. I love you. Bloody shirtlifter."

"Spike, tell me that you'll stay. Here, in L.A., with me. Live here with me."

"You want me to move in with you."

"Yes."

"Fine. I'll live here, and I'll lounge around in your bed, and I'll drink all of your blood, and I'm buying a TV."

He kissed Spike, promising himself that he'd drag Spike to bed as soon as possible. First, "Wesley."

Wesley was standing back by the bathroom door. "Yes," Wesley said.

Angel let go of Spike, forced his fingers to open and release. He walked over to stand before Wesley, close enough to feel Wesley's body heat. "Do you love me?"

"No."

"He's lying!" Spike shouted.

"Will you stay?" Angel asked.

"I will return to my old apartment, and I will return to work here, if you would like me to resume my duties," Wesley said.

"Please do," Angel said.

Wesley nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow." Wesley headed for the elevator, moving past Angel.

"Bloody hell," Spike muttered. "So that's it, then, is it?!" he shouted as Wesley and the lift left. "That's it? All of that pissing and moaning, all of the drama and fuss, I spend two months chasing after him just for you - - I may be immortal but I've got better ways to spend my time, you know! What a waste of a bloody - - and now what, now you're just going to pretend that it's all right, you're going to go about your business like nothing's changed?"

"If I force him, he'll leave me," Angel said.

"He's not leaving again," Spike said. "He can't. He's in love with you. Now that he knows what it's like to be away from you, he'll never do it again."

"You'll stay?"

"I said I would, didn't I? Of course, if you're going to be such a sissy-assed girl about everything, I might just go."

"I am not a sissy-assed girl," Angel said firmly.

"All right. Come on then." Spike walked over to the bedroom.

"You want to... I can't... You want to..."

"I'm Spike. He's Wes," Spike said. "We're both the loves of your life, or lack thereof. And if you're going to be living with me and working with him and trying to shag both of us, we're going to have to be open about it. Now come on."

He did love Wesley, but he also loved Spike, and he found himself getting lost in Spike. Those eyes, that mouth, that body; soon he could conceive of nothing else. He didn't have any lubricant, but Spike did, and before he could finish reacquainting himself with his agile, sexy, beautiful lover's body he was inside, inside Spike, inside his love. And Spike's body arched under his, and he thrust in hard and leaned down and his mouth met Spike's neck, and everything was beautiful and perfect and right, and it was Spike, his Spike, his, and he sank his teeth down into Spike's flawless neck, and Spike groaned, and then he was lost for good.

Angel opened his eyes as the world stopped spinning.

"Get off of me," Spike muttered, shoving him. "Did you always weigh this bloody much?"

He grinned and kissed Spike.

"When's the last time you ate somebody?" Spike asked. "Before just now."

"Buffy," he admitted. "Faith shot me with a poisoned arrow, and a Slayer's blood was the only antidote. Buffy stabbed Faith-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, drama blood tension angst," Spike said impatiently. "What about before that?"

"When I turned," he said, "the last time."

"You really do play nice, don't you?" Spike asked. "I know you miss it."

"Of course I miss it," Angel said. "There's nothing better than..." He slid a hand along Spike's naked bicep, smiling. "Maybe not nothing. But, as you pointed out, we...are...vampires. Vampires vampires vampires. I want blood. And it's always best straight from the source. But, at the same time, now that I have my soul, something in me just can't do it. I don't want to do it. It scares me."

"At least you have a soul to take the edge off," Spike said. "I just plain can't, no matter how much I want to, no matter how hard I try."

"Could you drink my blood?"

"I can't bite good people, Angel, and you're a good people, vampire or not."

"But you're not doing it to hurt me."

"Shall we give it a go?"

Angel settled on his back, Spike rising over him on all fours. Spike kissed him first and became distracted there, kissing him slowly and deeply. Remembering their purpose, Spike moved slightly to the side, kissing along Angel's jaw and down Angel's neck, settling in closer, finding the jugular and licking along its path. Angel remembered this, remembered the first time it had happened, and the last. That first time, the very first time, when he was turning Spike, and the cocky young man's brashness had slipped slightly and he'd seen those long-fingered pale hands tremble, and he'd, "Will..."

Spike raised his head. "Are you trying to ruin the mood?"

Angel smiled. "Sorry."

"I may not quite be up to my old standards of William the Bloody but I've not yet dropped to the depths of that snivelling boy."

"Will was wonderful. He's still in there, more than you think."

"You really liked him?"

"I really did. You know I did."

"If I had my soul, do you think I'd be like him?" Spike asked.

"I don't know. I'm nothing like the way I used to be. I have more human feeling now than I did while I was alive." He smiled. "You're the most alive person I know."

"I'm also very dead," Spike said.

"Bite me."

"I was trying to." Spike kissed his mouth, then licked at his neck again. He felt Spike's hand tighten on his opposite shoulder and knew that Spike had changed. Angel closed his eyes in anticipation. Would it work?

Sharp teeth sliced through Angel's flesh. The sudden, fierce pain struck him anew every time; he never was quite prepared for it, always underestimated it. Then there was a pulling sensation as his blood was sucked right out of his body. This was the good part. It was an intense feeling, and he always wondered what it felt like to mortals. Probably not good. But for him, god yes, to have Spike's body on his, to have Spike's mouth on his neck, to have this sudden weightless feeling, to-

-but now it was ending, now it was over, and Spike gave him one final lick and shifted out of demon face. "Was it good for you?"

"Yes," he said, quiet, heartfelt. He rolled to his side, nestling against Spike, ready to go to sleep and not wake for hours and hours. Why waken? He had everything he needed right here, right now.

"You're a cuddly one, aren't you?" Spike asked. "You got all cuddly back in Sunnydale, too. This is new."

"I was before," Angel said, opening his eyes again. "Before."

"That was different. Angelus was a very greedy bastard."

"So am I. I'm greedy and I'm possessive."

"Not the same, Angel." Spike shifted closer against him. "Angelus slept with his hands on me to make sure I wasn't taken from him. You're sleeping with your hands on me because you don't want to let go."

"That's the same thing."

"Who's the resident expert on sleeping with you?" Spike demanded. "You wouldn't know, you're asleep when you do it. And nobody else has slept with you and with the other you."

"He's not me. I'm not him."

"Don't get all pissy, Angel, you know what I meant. You and your multiple personalities. Might we get to sleep sometime today?"

"I love you."

"You'd better."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Spike groaned. "Go to sleep, Angel."

When he showed up that evening, he found Cordelia and Wesley deep in discussion (as deep into a discussion as Cordelia got, anyway) on London fashions. He told her that Spike was a resident, now, and that she didn't need to worry about being eaten since Spike couldn't and wouldn't.

"What?" Cordelia asked. "Wait a second. You're supposed to be in love with Wesley."

"I am," he said. Wesley looked away from them.

"But you're sleeping with Spike."

"I'm in love with Spike and Wesley."

"But if you're with Spike you're never going to get Wesley."

"Wesley doesn't want me and doesn't love me. If he wants to be with me, he knows where to find me."

"And now an evil vampire with a bad dye job is going to be living with you and, let me guess, working with you?"

"I hope so."

"Working with you means working with us. And I don't mean to be pointing out the obvious, but he's an evil vampire. Don't you remember how he came to town and had that creepy guy torture you and-"

"I remember," Angel said. "And I'm fine now."

"This is sick. You have no healthy relationships. Except for Doyle. That was a good one. But otherwise, please!"

"I need to know," Angel said, "from both of you. Would Spike working here be a problem? I haven't asked him to yet, and I won't if you object. But you know that he's powerful and-"

"Please! I don't need to hear you count the ways," Cordelia said. "If the evil vampire wants to help, sure why not? We can start a rehab center for you guys. Just don't bring Drusilla around, okay? You know, I've known a lot of evil in my day, but as far as vampires go, you and your kids win, no question."

"If Spike elects to join us, in a permanent or semi-regular capacity, I'm sure that we could use his help," Wesley said.

"Your enthusiasm is overwhelming," Angel told them. "You're sure?"

"If he can't bite me or break my neck or do anything like that, if he's just going to be making smart comments and wearing black, I can deal," Cordelia said.

So they dealt. Angel got Spike to help them a few times, and it was good to be working with Spike again, to renew their partnership on that level as well. It was good to be able to work with Spike and Wesley, to see them both every night, to have both of them close. Close but, in Wesley's case, far as well.

Interestingly enough, Spike didn't seem to be a barrier to Angel and Wesley's relationship. Spike and Wesley even got along well. Wesley let Spike closer than he let Angel, which was frustrating to Angel but pleasing at the same time.

Spike got restless, though, and Angel respected it. Spike decided to take off for a few days, just a few. He wasn't adapted to this environment, to isolation and doing only good; he needed a break. Spike, after all, didn't have a soul and was only off of feeding on humans because he was forced.

The evening that Spike left, Angel and Wesley went to see Cordelia open in Doll's House. She was dreadful. But it was a good experience anyway, despite that, because he and Wesley seemed to be connecting again; they could be together without "drama blood tension angst."

It was weird how he kept forgetting that he and Wesley were the same height. Even then, Wesley might be taller. He didn't know why he kept expecting Wesley to be shorter. Maybe because most people were shorter than he was; maybe because all of his other great loves were shorter. But to be able to look directly into Wesley's eyes - - which were strange; sometimes darker, sometimes very very blue.

Then they ran into Rebecca Lowell. He saved her life, he saved her life again, he saved her life again, they figured out she'd never really been in danger, and then she wanted him to kill her anyway. She had no idea what she was asking, and her arguments only made him realize how ignorant she was. Then...then he almost did kill her.

It wasn't true, what Wesley had said earlier. He wasn't falling for her. Not in the sense that Wesley meant, not at all. Yes, she was very pretty. And she had money. And she was famous. But since when did that matter to him? Besides, wasn't his love life complex enough already? She was self-absorbed - - not that he wasn't, to be fair. And she had good reason; she was being threatened, attacks were being made on her life; anyone would think of herself first in that situation. But she was thoughtless, or at least thinking only of herself - - he didn't like her, and her blind ambition made it worse, and he didn't like what she'd done to his hair.

And she turned him, instead of getting him to turn her; that was a nice ironic twist. And her turning him made her realize that she didn't want to be turned. And maybe it was best that he'd scared her, so now she wouldn't run off and try to hunt down other vampires who wouldn't mind drinking her blood.

But she'd messed with his life.

What he'd said to Cordelia had been cruel and harsh, and he knew that he'd hurt her, but what she'd said back hurt him, too. Was it true? Did she wait in fear for the day he'd turn? What kind of life was that to live?

What he'd said to Wesley he couldn't believe had come from his mouth. He'd denied Wesley's manhood and called Wesley inferior. Nothing like hitting where it hurt.

How had he turned at all? First of all, it had been a drug, so he hadn't really been happy, he'd just thought that he was happy. A chemical illusion, as Wesley had said. But how could he lose his soul at all, drugged or not? It was permanent; he was supposed to keep his soul no matter what. He'd been with Spike, hadn't he? Being with Spike made him happy, far happier than any drug could.

He watched the ceiling, wondering what had gone wrong, wondering what he could do to fix it. There were footsteps, someone entering his apartment. Spike.

"I missed all of the action, didn't I?" Spike asked. "Cordelia tells me that Angelus came out to play. Have you been a bad boy?"

He didn't ask Spike to unchain him, because asking for it only would make Spike less inclined to do it. "I'm better now."

"Wish I'd been here."

"I wish you had, too."

"We could have had such fun."

"You could have stopped me."

"You look pretty well stopped now. But maybe I would have stopped you. The last time Angelus showed up he was no fun at all. He was a real pissy bastard."

"I'm sorry about that."

"You'd better be." Spike started to unwork the chains, standing casually by the bed. "So you went whacked on some actress."

"She drugged me."

"You didn't hurt her any."

"I terrified her."

"You didn't hurt her, kill her, bite her."

"No. She got lucky."

"And Cordelia and Wesley?"

"Spike, I scared everyone, I was Angelus, I was evil, I said some-"

"Who cares what you said, Angel. What did you do? You didn't bite anyone, you didn't kill anyone."

"I threw Wesley."

"Hunh."

"What's that mean?"

"It means hunh, Angel, what did it sound like it meant? So you were Angelus, only there was no bloodshed and no corpses."

"I wasn't given the chance."

"Are you hard of memory? Angelus never needed a chance. He took his chances. If you didn't kill anyone or bite anyone, if there was more bark than bite, then it wasn't real. You didn't turn. You can't have. It wasn't real."

"Spike-"

"You're not very keen, are you? Angel, it was a drug. Synthetic happiness. And you have your soul, all locked in and strapped on, no getting rid of that baby. It's all in your head. Angelus didn't come back, and he won't. He can't."

"Then what happened?"

"It's all in your head. Would you listen?" Spike freed Angel, who sat up rubbing his arm. "You got scared. You flipped out, you went crazy, you thought that you were Angelus but you weren't. And you were still in control; that's why I haven't come home to find little bits of Cordelia strewn around the place."

Home.

Spike moved around to kneel behind Angel on the bed, strong fingers massaging over Angel's back to work out the stiffness from being thrown and confined. "From what I've been told, your little friends think that you were hot for Rebecca. Were you?"

"No."

"She's pretty?"

"Yes."

"She wanted you?"

"Yes."

"She's pretty, she wanted you, she offered her body and her blood to you, sounds like you could've had a right decent shag. Been there before, haven't you? Some pretty young thing falls for you, wants you, you go to bed with her, you wake up a bloodthirsty monster. Were you worried? That it could happen again? With pressure on all sides - - she wants you, Wesley and Cordelia think that you want her, everyone's wondering if you'll shag her, you're wondering, so what if you do? Because your soul's permanent now, so it doesn't matter. You could have her. But you've had a woman before, and look what happened."

"I knew that I wasn't going to-"

"No you didn't. You weren't sure at all. You're worried. You're worried that you really will lose it. You're worried that someone will make you happy and your soul will be gone."

"I am happy. You make me happy."

"I'm not a woman, Angel, am I? I'm not some pretty young thing who finds vampires romantic. I'm not a threat. Women are a threat. Darla. Buffy. They make you evil."

Jenny Calendar. Drusilla. "I am not that psychologically disturbed."

"I don't think that you're bisexual. I think that you're gay with serious problems."

"You're the one with problems. I am not afraid of women."

"The women around you here, now, in L.A., one's Cordelia, also known as Super Bitch, and the other's Kate, a strong, independent woman cop. One's a bitch, the other's butch, they're both...what's the word?"

Angel sighed and leaned back against Spike. "Emasculating."

Spike's arms came around Angel's shoulders, Angel's back to his chest. "Forget about those nasty old girls. You just worry about me and Wesley."

"My soul's permanent? It's all in my head?"

"Let's shag and find out."

"Then what I said, I meant?"

"Cordelia's play didn't suck?"

"It did. But what I said to Wesley...I threw him..."

"You've begged him to love you and he keeps turning you down cold, Angel. You're angry, bitter, and resentful. Who wouldn't be? Let's shag."

"Okay."

Three nights later, Angel was sitting in his private office, Wesley was seated at Cordelia's desk working on the computer, and Spike was painting his nails on the floor when Cordelia walked in quickly, bright. "You'll never guess who I ran into! God, Spike, black nail polish is like from the late eighties."

Angel, having heard her, came into the main room. "You met someone?"

"Devon!"

"Devon?" Angel repeated.

"God, do you ever pay attention? Devon's, well, I dated him for like two seconds back in my junior year, he's the lead singer for Dingoes Ate My Baby, ring a bell?"

"Oz's band," Angel said, remembering. Hard to forget that band's name.

"So Devon invited me to their concert tonight, they're playing at the Regal Sixteen, and of course normally I'd never go, but I figure Oz like totally ran off into the great yonder and Willow did call and ask that if we ever hear anything... So it's sort of my duty to go, just to see Oz for a second and make sure he still has all of his limbs and stuff so I can tell Willow that he's okay, since no one's seen him since he disappeared."

"He's still with the band?" Angel asked. "I thought that when he left he was going off on his own."

"He did. For a while, I guess. Devon said he just heard from Oz two weeks ago for the first time in forever."

"Well, I'm sure that you'll enjoy yourself," Wesley said.

"Yeah. Well," Cordelia said, "maybe one of you could come, too. To see Oz. You know, since he was so helpful in stuff before."

"Regal Sixteen isn't really my place," Angel said.

"You need to get out more, stop moping, get out and experience the city," Cordelia urged.

"No thanks," Angel said.

"Wesley?" Cordelia asked.

"No thank you," Wesley said. "I'll be just as happy at home away from the crowd. Happier, even."

"Don't make me ask Spike," Cordelia begged.

"You can't go alone?" Angel asked. "Isn't it safe?"

"I can go alone wherever I want," Cordelia said. "I'm from Sunnydale. I just, you know, might have mentioned to Devon that I'm seeing someone."

"Someone?" Wesley asked.

"You're seeing someone?" Angel asked.

"You want to borrow Angel for the night?" Spike asked Cordelia. "All right, but have him home by sunrise."

"You want one of us to pretend to be your boyfriend?" Angel asked.

"And you asked Angel first?" Wesley asked, hurt.

"You're English," Cordelia said.

"He's a vampire!" Wesley exclaimed.

"Watch the discrimination, pet," Spike said. "Vampires can make good boyfriends, too. I'm the best boyfriend anyone could want - - ask Dru. I'd've killed for her. I did, too, right often. And Englishmen are some of the sexiest men in the world."

"Spike might be the best suited of us all to go to this club," Wesley admitted.

"We could all go," Angel said. He had no idea why he'd said it. He hated going out, and the four of them in a club together was asking for weirdness. He didn't need any more weirdness.

"Angel can be Cordelia's boyfriend, and Wes can be mine," Spike said, layering a thin coat of polish over his thumbnail.

"I'm supposed to appear in public with you?" Cordelia asked Spike.

"You think that Oz would believe that we're together?" Angel asked Cordelia.

"What Oz thinks doesn't matter, and Devon will believe anything," Cordelia said.

"Before we go," Spike said to Wesley, "you run along home and slip into something a little more...leather."

"We really shouldn't all commit ourselves to a night on the town," Wesley said. "I can have a vision at any time."

"And maybe you won't have one," Cordelia said. "If any evil wants to show up tonight, it had better do it before nine, because I'm going out tonight if it kills me."

"You have a real way with words," Spike told her.

Angel dressed in black pants and a dark-dark red shirt with his duster. He walked up to the club, Cordelia at his side. Behind them were Spike and Wesley, dressed in black and leather, holding hands, fingers laced. The four of them walked past the long line of Dingo groupies right up to the door, where they were let inside without hesitation.

Inside, Regal Sixteen was loud and crowded, full of college aged students in tight clothing. There were tables along the sides and some chairs in the back, mostly occupied with drunk young people. Everyone else was on the floor gyrating beneath the strobe lights.

Cordelia headed off into the crowd; Angel followed, not wanting to lose her. Her destination was a table halfway along the wall; close enough to the stage but not too close.

"Excuse me," she said, and flashed a wide, insincere smile to the three half-drunk people at the table. "My friends and I would like to sit here."

"Fuck off," the first person said.

"Cordelia," Angel said.

Cordelia smiled down at the people. "I'm sure you'd be much happier throwing up in the alley than sitting here."

"I'm sure you'd be much happier," the person said again, and Angel knew that something dreadfully obscene was going to come out of that mouth. But before the person said anything further, Cordelia said, "Look at us, and look at you."

Bleary eyes glanced over Cordelia, Angel, Spike, and Wesley, then Angel and Spike again. "Yeah. Okay. Later." The three people wandered off into the crowd. Cordelia smiled brightly and seated herself comfortably.

"Get you something to drink, pet?" Spike asked Wesley, who was sitting.

"Oh, no thank you," Wesley said.

Spike sat between Wesley and Angel, Cordelia across from him also between Wesley and Angel. "I always did like Oz," he said. "He had more brains than the rest of that crowd put together."

"All I know is, short, quiet, werewolf," Cordelia said. "Dated Willow, took her back after she made out with Xander and I got a metal rod shoved through me, then took off after killing some singer."

"I've killed a singer or two," Spike said. "That one left a nasty taste in my mouth."

Angel couldn't help but smile. He loved Spike.

There was movement on the stage; lights came up, the stage was set with instruments, microphones, and amplifiers. The canned music stopped; Dingoes Ate My Baby appeared. Oz was there, standing to the right with his guitar, looking the same as ever.

"That's's Devon?" Wesley asked, watching the stage. "He's the one we're trying to impress?"

"I don't need to impress anyone," Cordelia said.

The Dingoes sounded pretty much the same; good enough to listen to again, but not good enough for Angel to get too excited. He listened, watched the people, kept an eye on Spike and Wesley. At one point, Spike leaned over and whispered into Wesley's ear. Angel tried to tune out the music and crowd to listen to their exchange.

"Here? Now?" Wesley asked.

"Here. Now." Spike stood, handed his duster to Angel, held out a hand to Wesley. Wesley took Spike's hand and stood as well. Angel watched the two of them walk to the crowd of wriggling dancers. They went into the heart of the crowd, where they could be anonymous and hidden among the mass of bodies. Spike turned, giving Wesley a patented sexy smile. Then their arms were around each other, and Angel burned for a moment with jealousy to see Wesley accepting of another man, to see how easily Wesley touched Spike. The two of them moved against each other, picked up the rhythm quickly, joined the speed and mood of the crowd. Angel watched them, and he wondered how soon he'd find his lover in bed with the man he loved. Soon, he guessed. Maybe not tonight. His childe would take Wesley's virginity.

They were doing a devastating bump-and-grind now. Spike's hand was rubbing just above Wesley's waist, obviously itching to slide down over Wesley's ass. Wesley said something, and Spike looked up into Wesley's eyes and replied, and then Wesley said something else and they were laughing, dancing and laughing.

They were English and immortal and beautiful and he wanted them and he was in love with them and they were so obviously going to fuck each other tonight that Angel might as well be Cordelia's boyfriend for real.

Dingoes finished, finally. The band left the stage; Spike and Wesley left the floor. Spike was leading Wesley away from their table, though, and heading for the chairs at the back of the club.

"I'm going to say hi to Devon," Cordelia said. "I mean Oz. Don't run off to save the world or anything." She slipped off through the press of people. Angel went to follow Spike and Wesley.

He found them in a dark corner, on a sofa, half-sitting, Spike on top of Wesley, a tiny whimpering sound escaping the seal of their mouths. That sound had to be coming from Wesley. Long fingers slid through Spike's hair and stroked down Spike's neck. Spike, apparently remembering that Wesley did need to breathe, gave Wesley a chance to gasp before diving in for more. There was another long session of kissing until Angel really had settled on hating them for eternity, and then Spike sat up a little and half-turned, looking over one shoulder. "Angel, you have to try him."

It was exactly what Spike had often said many many years ago, when feeding off of a particularly rich-blooded victim. It had gotten Angel hard and eager then, and it was doing the same now.

Wesley, for his part, was half-lying on the sofa, flushed, dazed, rumpled, panting.

Spike drew a regretful fingernail down Wesley's neck. "You should taste him, Angel. He tastes very sweet, like sugar. I bet his blood runs even sweeter."

Angel reached out and hauled Spike to stand, off of Wesley. "Leave him alone."

"I'm not going to bite him," Spike said. "Have a taste, Angel."

"Angel."

Angel turned, as did Spike; Wesley sat up straighter, snapping back to life. Oz stood there, casual in jeans and a T-shirt, wiping off stage sweat. "Oz," Angel said. "You remember Spike and Wesley."

Oz nodded. "Hey."

"Cordelia's planning to tell...the others that she's seen you," Angel said. "So if you're still in hiding..."

"It's okay," Oz said. "I'm doing the resurfacing thing."

"You've been all right?" Wesley asked. "There was some concern."

"I'm dealing," Oz said. "There's a bit of a problem now, though. Two, actually."

"Trouble?" Wesley asked, coming to stand on Spike's other side.

"Tomorrow's the night before the full moon," Oz said, "and I still don't have a place to stay."

"We have a place," Angel said.

"We also have the training and equipment needed to look after you, should anything go amiss," Wesley added.

"Thanks," Oz said. "Appreciate it."

"What else?" Angel asked.

"There's a guy. He's been following me. I ran into him about this time last month. I don't know if he knows about the wolf, but he's definitely tracking me."

"Is he here?" Angel asked.

"I saw him a few hours ago when we showed up here, but not since."

"You'd best come with us now," Wesley said.

"Wesley's right," Angel said. "If he knows about the wolf, he may decide to make his move now. Can you stay with us tonight? You can tell us everything about this man, and we'll make arrangements for your...visit."

"That'd be great," Oz said. "I gotta tell Devon."

"I'll come with you," Angel said. "Spike, behave."

Spike grinned at Angel and wrapped an arm around Wesley's waist.

Cordelia chattered at Oz the whole way back to the office. Once there, Wesley did a sketch of the man as Oz gave a description. Spike wandered past as Wesley was finishing and gave the sketch a glance over Wesley's shoulder. Suddenly Spike stopped short and said, "Krismuth?"

"Who?" Angel asked.

"Orlando Krismuth," Spike said.

"Orlando," Wesley said.

"Virginia Woolf?" Oz asked.

"Virginia Woolf, werewolf, nice coincidence," Cordelia said. "Let me rephrase: what?"

"Orlando Krismuth," Wesley said. "Spike, are you quite sure? If we're dealing with that kind of-"

"That's Krismuth," Spike said.

"Who?" Angel repeated.

"Orlando Krismuth," Wesley said, "hunts werewolves for their pelts."

"Pelts?" Cordelia asked. "Their fur?"

"He skins their hides," Wesley said. "The wolf is discovered in human form, absolutely flayed."

"Dead," Angel said.

"Yes," Wesley said.

"He was waiting for me to turn so he could skin me," Oz said.

"He may have followed you here," Angel said.

"We won't let him get to you," Wesley said. "We will take care of this threat."

"Blackmarket werewolf fur," Cordelia said. "What happens, they make coats?"

"We're all going to have to work on this one," Angel said. "He'll be waiting to make his move. We can't leave Oz alone for a second."

"Is he human? We kill humans now?" Cordelia asked.

"We may have to," Angel said.

"I've never killed a person," Cordelia said. "Demon evil, I can do demon evil, but people evil?"

"We cannot simply turn him over to Kate," Wesley said. "At best he'd be charged with poaching."

"He kills people to sell their body parts," Angel said. "People kill elephants for ivory, baby harp seals for their coats, but this is people. One man killing people for their-"

"I get it! I get it!" Cordelia said. "I'm just not sure that I can pull the trigger. How are you going to kill him? Do you have a gun?"

"I have a gun," Angel said. "There are lots of ways. People are very easy to kill."

"That's great," Cordelia said. "Let's not discuss them all."

"You can sleep on my couch downstairs," Angel told Oz.

"You might want earplugs," Cordelia said. "Angel has loud sex."

"You listen?" Spike asked.

"Is it my fault you make him scream like a-"

"Cordelia," Angel said.

"I think not," Cordelia told Spike. "And you're not library-quiet either."

"I don't know," Oz said. "I remember a library that had some pretty wild moments."

"Krismuth may come tonight," Wesley said. "That way he can have Oz in a controlled environment when the moon rises again. Perhaps it would be best to have Oz in a more secure place than on the sofa with the two of you asleep or distracted."

"You could sleep in the bed," Angel told Oz. "There's only one way in or out of that room."

"I don't want to put you out," Oz said.

"It's his job to sacrifice himself for the good of others," Spike told Oz, disgusted. "He likes nothing better than to be a noble martyr. He won't be happy if you refuse."

"Where will you sleep?" Oz asked the two of them.

"We'll take turns sleeping on the sofa and keeping watch," Angel said.

"I could assist," Wesley said.

"A slumber party, great," Cordelia said. "Well, I'm going home to bed. As long as the furrier guy isn't lurking around to grab me and pump me for information."

"I'll take you home," Angel said. "Spike - - Wesley, take care of Oz. I'll be back soon."

Angel drove Cordelia home, then told her to call if anything happened. When he got back to his apartment, Oz was asleep in his bed, Wesley was asleep on his sofa, and Spike kissed him soundly.

"You have to taste him, Angel," Spike said. "So sweet..." Spike kissed him again, hungrily. "He wants you, he'll let you if you ask."

"He'll let you," Angel corrected.

"What was it like?"

"What?"

"When you thought he was dead."

"What was it like for you?" Angel asked. "When I disappeared?"

Spike vamped out fast and flashed back to human face again, like a nervous twitch. "That's not the same."

"I was cursed, and I left, and you didn't know what had happened. Darla didn't tell you, did she? I left your bed, you expected to meet me that night, but I never showed up, and you didn't see me again for-"

Spike slammed him back against the wall, hard. "Shut up!"

"Spike-"

"You left me! You left me, you left me for her! For Darla for Buffy for Drusilla for that gypsy girl curse, you always leave me! I'm never good enough. You never stay."

"Spike-"

"You kissed me good-bye like you always did, and you bit me just a little, just for a taste, just like always. You left, and we were supposed to meet back there at eight, but you didn't come, you never came. I thought you'd left me for Darla, I knew she was around, I knew you'd seen her. So I found her, and she said-"

"Oh god-"

"She said you were dead. She said you were dead. She said you were dead. I almost killed her. I should have killed her. But she was your mommy, and I don't touch Angelus' things without permission."

"Oh god-"

"You weren't dead, you weren't gone, you were better than ever, running around feeling guilty, eating rats, wallowing in your angst and filth. And I, I thought that you were dead, for-"

"Oh god-"

"You didn't bother to tell me. You didn't bother to find me. You left me and you left me and you left me! Now that you had a soul, I didn't matter anymore! I was worthless, I was-"

"You don't understand! I had a soul. A soul, Spike, I wasn't the same creature anymore. I couldn't stand myself, I couldn't stand to think of what I'd done, I couldn't think of anything but what I'd done, I was going insane. Every person I'd ever harmed, I could feel it, I could remember it all. I hated myself. I was a monster. And what I'd done to you, I'd turned a beautiful brilliant young man, this gorgeous creature, into a monster. I needed you, I needed you to help me, but I couldn't. I knew you'd hate me, I thought you'd kill me. I couldn't bear to see the truth of what I'd done. I had a soul, and you were evil, and it was all my doing."

"You still have a soul and I'm still evil."

"I still love you. I always have. Angelus or Angel, I love you, we love you."

"Demons don't love."

"You love."

"I love blood and screams and terror-"

"You love me. Spike, I didn't know. I thought that you knew about me. She told you that I was dead?"

"She had a pouch of dust."

"You should have killed her. Spike, I wanted to turn to you, I needed your help, but you couldn't have helped me. You were William the Bloody, and you'd only ever known me as Angelus, evil and bloodthirsty and sociopathic. You wouldn't have been able to help me."

"Did you love Darla more than you love me?"

"I love you more."

"Do you love Drusilla more than you love me?"

They never talked about her. "I love you more."

"Do you love Buffy more than you love me?"

Angel looked into Spike's eyes. "Spike."

"Do you love Buffy more than you love me?"

"Don't."

"Do you love Buffy more than you love me?"

"Don't." He pushed Spike.

Spike shoved him in return. "Do you love Buffy more than you love me?" Another shove, harder. "Do you love Buffy more than you love me?" Spike kept coming, shouting the question until it echoed through his brain, pushing him relentlessly around the room. Oz and Wesley were awake, standing together near the bedroom door, but he didn't care, he just had to get away from that question, that question, that question-

"No! I love you more than I love Buffy!"

Silence. Deafening silence. Those awful words, that traitorous reply, the fateful admission. He loved this thing, this monster, this evil, more than that beautiful champion of goodness, that wholesome endearing innocent girl. His heart twisted. His soul shuddered. It was true. God help him, it was true.

He looked at Spike. His soul shuddered again, not with fear but with love, with joy, with anticipation, with awe. He loved Spike. He was in love with Spike. Beautiful seductive arrogant English strong lithe powerful sexy evil sadistic sarcastic vampire Spike.

"I was afraid that if you knew that I had a soul you wouldn't love me anymore," he told Spike. "I thought that you might kill me, and I wanted you to kill me, but I didn't dare risk your rejection."

"I can't kill you," Spike said.

"When I turned again," Angel said.

Spike moved away from him.

"I turned," Angel said, "and you made a bargain with Buffy. You were hoping that she'd kill me. You couldn't do it yourself but you knew that someone had to."

"She was strong enough to do it," Spike said, his back to Angel. "She loved you enough."

"You love me," Angel said.

"I couldn't dust you, could I?" Spike demanded, turning viciously. "I couldn't do it!"

"It's all right," Angel said. "You'll notice I never killed you either, as Angel or Angelus."

"I was bloody selfish! I should have dusted you the second I knew you'd turned. Or the second I knew you were good. Or the second I saw you."

"I should have done the same to you," Angel said. "But how could I?"

"You killed Darla."

"I killed Darla," Angel agreed.

"She was a bitch. What did you ever see in her?"

"She turned me. She let me fuck her. Did you hear that?"

Spike melted into vamp face, frowning, listening, eyes narrowing.

"Someone's upstairs," Angel said softly.

"So you go investigate, you get ambushed, I go to follow, and Krismuth comes down here to kidnap Oz," Spike said.

"Sounds like a good plan," Angel said. "You two stay here. Spike, watch them."

"I'll go," Spike said.

"Spike-"

"I'll go," Spike said. He blew Wesley a kiss and started up the stairs, silent and quick.

"This is not good," Oz said.

"I'm inclined to agree," Wesley said.

"Sorry for waking you," Angel said.

"Cordelia warned me about needing earplugs," Oz said. "My fault for not listening to her."

There was a silence as they waited.

"Buffy's never killed a human," Oz said.

"I've killed people," Angel said.

"Not while you had a soul," Wesley said.

"I can't let him off with a friendly warning," Angel said. "I can't turn him over to the police, either." There was a crash upstairs. He remembered suddenly, sharply, that Spike couldn't fight humans. "Stay here."

"We'll come with you," Wesley said.

"Safety in numbers," Oz said. The three of them went up the stairs. Entering the office in the darkness, Angel saw Spike coming toward them quickly.

"Go downstairs," Spike said.

"Spike-"

"Go downstairs," Spike said. "Wesley, take them downstairs."

"What happened?" Angel asked.

"Go downstairs."

"I smell blood."

"Bloody hell - - go downstairs!"

"Spike, what happened?"

"I killed him."

"He's dead?" Wesley asked.

"I surprised him, he attacked me, I fought back, he tried to stake me, I snapped his neck. He's dead."

"You killed him," Angel said. "You can't-"

"He was evil," Spike said.

"That's why you came up here first," Wesley said. "To kill him. So Angel or the rest of us wouldn't have to do so ourselves."

"When you want the job done, call a professional," Spike said. "I kill people for a living. You all go back to bed."

"You're sure it was Krismuth?" Wesley asked.

"You want to see for yourself?"

"No thank you," Wesley said.

"Dru would have."

"She would have invited him to tea," Angel said. If Spike was going to mention her now, he'd encourage it.

Spike grinned. "Dru's special."

"Drusilla's insane," Angel said.

"That's why Wes is my new pet now," Spike said. "You all go sleep, I'll clean up here."

"Thanks," Oz said.

Angel went down to his apartment with Wesley and Oz. Oz shuffled off to bed. Wesley said, "I might as well go home, really."

"Stay and get some rest," Angel said.

"You'll have to sleep on the floor."

"I've slept on worse."

"I must admit that I was very impressed, Angel. You're very strong."

"What?"

"To admit that you love Spike more than you love Buffy."

He didn't know what to say to that, so he kept quiet.

"You loved her very much. And she you."

"I still do," Angel said. "Get some sleep."

Wesley was asleep when Spike came down again. Angel was sitting against the wall, watching Wesley asleep on the sofa, keeping an eye on the bedroom door. Spike sat beside him, against him, with a dramatic sigh.

"That's that, then. Crisis solved. This superhero stuff's pretty easy, wouldn't you say?" Spike asked. "I don't know what Buffy's always going on about."

"When you and Wesley have sex, don't do it in my bed."

"I'm not going to shag Wes, Angel."

"I know that you're going to have sex with him," Angel said, not listening, "and I know that this is your apartment now, too, so it's not my bed, it's our bed, but if you fuck Wesley in my bed I think I'll kill you."

"You're all talk," Spike said. "Always threatening to kill me, but you never go through with it."

"I know that you want him and-"

"Angel." Spike grabbed Angel's chin in one hand and pulled Angel's face to the right until they were nose-to-nose, faces turned to each other as they were sitting against the wall. "I'm not going to shag Wes. He's yours."

"You were all over him tonight."

"You never said I couldn't borrow your toys, Angel," Spike said. "Just a little tongue-kissing, I didn't do any permanent damage. But Wes is yours, not mine. I won't borrow him again without your permission. And I won't shag him until you've already given him a good workout."

"You're waiting for me to do it first?"

"You're supposed to be smart but I'm always repeating myself around you," Spike said.

"Thank you."

"Don't get sappy on me, Angel. You'd better hurry up and take him fast because Wes needs a good shagging."

"You think he's in love with me, don't you?"

"Do we have to talk? Can't we just fuck? Or sleep?"

"We can't have sex with Oz in the other room and Wesley right over there."

"We'll be quiet."

"No we won't."

"They'll never notice a thing."

"Not notice two male vampires having sex right in front of them?"

"They're big boys. They know we're doing it."

"That doesn't mean that they have to watch us."

"They'd like it."

"No they wouldn't."

"Wes would. He'd love to see you in action. He'd like to see me in action, too."

"I can't blame him," Angel said. "You're beautiful."

"So fuck me."

"I can't."

"They do have pills for that, you know."

"I don't mean that!" Spike grinned, mocking, amused. "I can't do it in front of them."

"We've had an audience before. They did tend to be corpses, but an audience is an audience."

"Spike, behave yourself."

"No." Spike kissed him, deeply. He moaned and pulled Spike closer, shifting, sinking back to the floor. Spike rested
over him, kissing him, rubbing over the muscles of his torso.

"Spike, we can't."

"You have a soul, Angel, not a halo." Spike tongue-fucked his mouth while unbuttoning his shirt.

"Don't mind me," said Oz's voice.

"I like him," Spike said, kissing Angel while Oz went into the bathroom and closed the door.

"Oh dear...lord," Wesley's voice said.

Angel pushed Spike away and rolled to his stomach, burying his face in his arms crossed over the floor, wishing for a stake. The toilet flushed and Oz walked through again. Spike was running a hand over Angel's ass. Wesley made a choked noise from the sofa. Angel moaned in humiliation.

The next afternoon, safe from the sun in a closed-off section of the sewer, Angel and Wesley set up a cage for Oz. They planned to take turns at guard duty for the next three nights. When the cage was ready, they saw that they were cutting it close; they hurried back to Angel Investigations.

At the office, Oz was looking through one of Angel's books while Cordelia painted her nails. Spike, whom Angel had left sleeping in their bed, was standing in a corner watching Oz.

"Ready to go?" Angel asked Oz.

"Ready," Oz said, rising, closing the book. Oz was short and slender, graceful and quick in a way that contrasted with Angel's strength and size, though Angel had superhuman speed and his own certain grace. Angel knew that of course in a physical fight he'd have the advantage, yet he felt that Oz would be a powerful foe.

"A book on vampires," Wesley said, noting the cover. "I arrogantly continue to assume that we know all that we need to on that subject."

"There's a list ranking different kinds of blood," Oz said.

"Humans at the top, I assume," Wesley said.

"Second," Oz said.

"Really," Wesley said, surprised. "Angel, you never told me."

"There's something better than humans?" Angel asked Oz.

"Werewolves are fourth," Oz said.

"And first?" Wesley asked.

"Werewolves in human form," Oz said. "Cordelia asked Spike whether I taste different from other people, so I was just doing a little research."

"I had no idea," Wesley said. "This is fascinating. What was third, then?"

"Vampire blood relations."

"Is it the mixing of the childe and sire's blood, then?" Wesley asked. "Or is the taste of one's own blood-"

"You are not going to sit here and talk about that, are you?" Cordelia asked.

"No, right. We'd better get you down to the...cage," Wesley told Oz. "I'll take first watch."

"I'll come with you," Angel said. "To make sure it's secure."

"Shouldn't you have the gun thingie?" Cordelia asked. "In case he gets out?"

"Tranquilizer," Oz said. "I've been shot on...three different occasions now. So it might happen again."

"Spike?" Angel asked. "Could you get that? Please? We have to hurry; the moon's close."

"Can you feel it?" Cordelia asked Oz. "Is it like creepy?"

"It's interesting," Oz said. "A little scary. Not as scary tonight, because I know it's taken care of here."

"We are professionals," Cordelia said. "Unfortunately."

"We'd better get going," Oz told Angel. The two of them with Wesley left the offices. Spike wandered downstairs to get Angel's tranquilizer gun.

They hurried through the sewer and reached Oz's cage, then locked Oz inside. He pulled off his shirt and sneakers and socks, ran his hands through his hair. Angel made sure that the locks were secure and that the door would hold. Oz had brought other clothes to wear when the ordeal was over; these were on the ground outside of the cage.

Spike came in with the gun.

Oz growled. The transformation came quickly. The other three watched with some degree of fascination. The wolf growled and launched itself at the bars. All three of them jumped back reflexively.

"Shit!" Spike said. "Bloody - - what's it doing?"

"He's trying to get out," Angel said.

The wolf launched itself at the bars again, tried to climb through them, snarled and reached.

"Not get out," Wesley said. "Get Spike."

"Spike?" Spike repeated. "I have nothing to do with this. If he has something against vampires, he can bloody well go after Angel. Angel's the one who locked him up in there."

"He wants to attack Spike?" Angel asked Wesley. To test this theory, Spike walked from the wolf's left to the wolf's right. "You're right," Angel said, surprised, not understanding, as the wolf crossed the cage and tracked Spike's movements. "Spike, maybe you should go."

"No," Wesley said. "Perhaps...Spike, could you move closer to him?"

"No, I couldn't!" Spike exclaimed. "You get closer. You're more immortal than I am; if you want to risk somebody's life, risk your own."

"Just walk a bit closer to the cage," Wesley encouraged.

Spike took two steps in the wolf's direction. Then two steps more. The wolf's snarls wound down to muted growls, a constant sound from the back of its throat. Spike came right up to the cage. The wolf pressed against the bars painfully, growling constantly, not in a threatening manner but in frustration.

"He likes you," Angel said, and laughed.

"I may have found me a new pet," Spike said. The werewolf continued to growl as it tried to get closer to him. "Angel, go get something to feed him."

"Spike-"

"I'd get it myself, but do you really want to see what happens if I try to leave?" Spike asked.

"Nothing's going to happen," Angel said.

"All right," Spike said. He turned his back and walked away from the cage. The wolf snarled viciously and lunged up against the bars. Spike disappeared from view, and the wolf howled, giving one mighty heave against its prison. The cage broke open; the wolf was out immediately, bounding in the direction that Spike had taken. Wesley fired the gun. The wolf went down with a yelp.

"Wes," Spike said, coming back, frowning, "you shot Toto." He snatched the gun from Wesley's hands and tossed it aside before kneeling by the prostrate wolf. "You just take a little nap," he instructed, combing his fingers through fur, "and when you wake up I'll let you eat Wes's heart out."

"We need to reinforce the cage and get him back in there before he wakes," Angel said.

"You aren't putting him in any cage," Spike said, glaring up at Angel.

"Spike, he's a werewolf. He's a vicious predator, he'll attack-"

"Look who's talking," Spike said. "I remember someone not exactly being Mr. Rogers in his day."

"I'm beginning to see some parallels here," Wesley said to Spike. "You're a vicious predator yourself. You identify with the wolf caged within Oz. Now, the wolf is let out three times a month. You, on the other hand, are forced to restrain yourself and curb your appetites throughout-"

Spike stood and reached out, put one hand to the back of Wesley's neck and hauled Wesley to his mouth for a long, deep, toe-curling, cock-swelling, tongue-infested kiss. "I don't have to curb all of my appetites," Spike said.

"So I see," Wesley said, panting. He straightened, visibly drawing himself back together. "Yes, well, you've made your point quite well."

"Mmm, you taste good," Spike said, and pulled Wesley back for more.

The wolf seemed to stir.

"Spike," Angel said. Spike made an interrogative noise into Wesley's mouth.

The wolf raised its head.

"Spike!" Angel said. He grabbed the gun and leveled it quickly as the wolf found its legs. The wolf spotted Spike and started in that direction; Angel's finger tightened on the trigger. He was about to fire off the dart to keep Spike or Wesley from being mauled as the snarling beast made its move when Spike broke free of Wesley and whirled around to face the wolf. The wolf stopped instantly, on all fours. Spike flashed into vampire face and the wolf stopped growling.

"Good Toto," Spike said.

The wolf inched closer. Spike graciously let it. It sniffed, then rested its nose on his booted foot. It sniffed his shoes, his pants, his hands. It sniffed at his hands quite a bit, then shoved its nose in his crotch.

Spike backed off. "Bad Toto. That's not for you." Cowed, it lowered its head to its paws. "Wish Dru were here. She'd have such fun. She always wanted to get a dog," Spike said. "Every time I found her one she ate it."

"Remarkable woman, Drusilla," Wesley said. "I'm sorry we never met."

Angel smiled.

"Think he'll be all right, then?" Spike asked. "You two won't insist on locking him up?" His features were back to human.

"As long as he behaves himself," Angel said, "he's fine."

"He's a good boy," Spike said. "Aren't you, Toto?"

Angel heard footsteps. "Cordelia?"

She appeared. "I just came down to see if you were all eaten. Oz is out of his cage. Shouldn't Oz be in his cage?"

"He's behaving himself," Angel said.

"He's a werewolf," she pointed out to them.

"I'm a vampire," Angel said reasonably.

"You're a bitch," Spike said to Cordelia, "and we let you be in polite company."

"You wouldn't know polite company if it-"

The wolf raised his head, looking at Cordelia, growling. Menacing.

"Ah ah ah," Spike told Cordelia. "Play nice now or Toto's going to get angry."

"Toto?" she asked. "We're not in Kansas anymore. Or Sunnydale. We're in Los Angeles, the City of Freaks."

"The City of Angels," Angel corrected.

She gave him a look. "Like I said. Look, so everything's okay? Nobody's eaten anybody else?"

"We're fine. You're free to go home," Angel said.

"Yeah, just don't call me an hour from now to complain that your wolf's escaped and started eating people." She left them.

Spike patted the wolf's head. "It's all right now. The nasty lady's gone. Good Toto. Next time you see her, rip out her throat."

Eventually, an hour before sunrise, Angel and Wesley went to Angel's apartment. Spike came with them, the wolf at his heels. Wesley carried Oz's clothes.

Spike settled on the sofa. The wolf paced around the apartment, never veering too far from Spike. Wesley seemed to be watching the wolf's behavior with some interest. Angel wondered what Oz would think of this situation come morning.

"Angel," Spike said.

"What?" Angel asked, coming closer.

"You remember what human blood is like."

He licked his lips and tried very hard not to cast a glance in Wesley's direction. It had been since Buffy, and a long barren stretch before her, but, "Yes."

"They say there's only one thing better."

"Spike, no."

"The blood of a werewolf in human form."

"You can't. You can't do that to Oz. And you can't anyway, not with what the Initiative's done."

"Aren't you curious? Don't you want to try it?"

"No. I couldn't hurt Oz."

"You wouldn't have to kill him."

"Spike, you can't. You know that you can't."

"He's beginning to change," Wesley announced.

"We can't leave him on the floor," Angel said. "Can we?"

"Come on, Toto," Spike said, standing from the sofa. The wolf paced over towards him. "Follow me," Spike said.

"Not the bed," Angel said. "I don't want wolf hairs in my bed."

"He won't slobber too much," Spike said. "Come on, boy, up you go." The wolf lumbered onto the mattress and turned around a few times before settling down comfortably, watching Spike. "Stay," Spike said. "Be a good boy." The change began in earnest, and Spike left the room with the others, Wesley leaving Oz's clothes.

There was a silence.

Oz came out, dressed, running a hand over his hair. "Hey."

"Hey," Angel said.

"How do you feel?" Wesley asked.

"Hungry. What happened? I got out? Did I hurt anybody?"

"You growled at Cordelia," Wesley said. "I don't believe that she minded."

"You don't remember?" Angel asked.

"No," Oz said. "I was told that as I get used to it I'll start to remember everything, but I'm still relatively new to the wolf. I remember pieces. I remember..." He frowned and turned to Spike. "I remember thinking that you smell good."

"We found," Wesley said, "that you seemed rather tame. We're still working out the possible influences. I'd hardly jump to the conclusion that the wolf form is at all safe, but for the evening we found that you could be released from your cage. Tonight, of course, we'll need to put you back in there."

"Oh, hey, yeah, of course," Oz said. "I wouldn't have it any other way. Thanks for taking care of me. I really appreciate it."

"I'll get you something to eat," Angel said. "Wesley, after breakfast you should get some sleep."

"Hadn't we rather secure the cage?" Wesley asked.

"I did get out," Oz said, looking from one to the other.

"Somewhat," Wesley admitted.

"Wes shot you," Spike said.

"Good," Oz said. "Is the cage going to be safe for tonight?"

"We'll take care of it," Angel said. "We don't want you getting loose any more than you do."

"I wouldn't mind," Spike said.

"You keep quiet," Angel said, handing Spike a mug of blood.

matthew@matthewtime.com
"Angel" Part Five: Oz
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