Spike's eyes opened and he gaped blankly down at the tangled blonde hair of the girl curled beside him, her head on his thigh as her mouth opened to engulf his partially erect cock.

A strangled gasp escaped him. "Buffy?"

Her lips closed around his cock and she began to suck up and down the thickening shaft.

"Oh fuck, baby," he groaned, arching into her mouth, his head falling back onto the pillows. He stared blindly at the ceiling as wild pleasure lashed through him.

As she suckled at him, lapping him with her tongue and grazing him with her teeth, Buffy reached between his legs and cupped his testicles, rolling them between her fingers until he groaned deep in his throat.

Spike reached full erection, the tip of his cock bouncing off her uvula, as she worked him at a quick, tireless pace. His hands dug into the sheets and he stared blankly at the elaborately plastered ceiling, as he tried to keep his hips from bouncing wildly on the bed.

As he squirmed, fresh pain rocked through him, and he frowned. His back hurt.

Why did his back hurt?

"FuckinghellBuffystop," he cried, his memories returning in one enormously powerful tide. His hands reached down for her shoulders, trying to grab her and pull her off him.

Hearing the panic in his voice, Buffy glanced up from beneath long lashed eyes. Her lips ovaled around the tip of his cock and she sucked avidly. "Hmmmmm?"

The vibration sent a sharp pang of pleasure straight to his balls and he groaned helplessly. "He'll kill me, luv," he managed to choke out as she continued to suck just on the throbbing head.

"Nahhhhh," she mumbled, not ceasing her ministrations, her tongue flicking out and tasting his secretions.

Spike's eyes rolled back in his head and his hands fell limply onto the mattress as his hips arched upwards, seeking the hot depths of her mouth. Buffy cupped his sac in her hand, rubbing her thumb across his sensitive flesh until he moaned and shook. Widening her jaw, she took him deeper, letting the throbbing head slide down her throat.

Spike howled and erupted, flooding her mouth with his cool semen. Gasping for air, Buffy pulled back and some of his cream spilled over her chin as she swallowed as much as she could. His orgasm draining him, Spike collapsed with a sigh of pleasure.

Raising up on her knees, Buffy wiped her chin, then licked her fingers clean, grinning at him. "Did I wear you out?"

"Dead, I'm a dead man," he mumbled, staring blankly at her from hooded eyes.

"Nah."

Images flooded his mind, images of his sire ripping his cock off and making him eat it, before staking him.

And the images just got worse from there.

"Angel will kill me."

Buffy frowned and turned her head to glower at the door, before returning her attention to her lover. "I won't let him hurt you again, and if you'd stop throwing yourself at his feet asking him to hurt you, it would be a lot easier."

"It's his right."

"It may be his right, but he doesn't have to exercise it."

Spike shook his head, rolling it on the pillow. "You just don't understand vampire culture, luv."

"Hello, nearly the twenty-first century. Time to move forward and out of slavish devotion to demon masters. Come on, Spike, I watched you beat him over the head with a tire iron, remember? You're not exactly the poster child for um childer."

"That was different," he replied, a bit petulantly.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Look, you showed that you're a good follower of the old ways. You let him beat you, even if he did get carried away. Now it's time for him to realize that he doesn't follow the old ways. He's just pissed off because I chose you over him."

Spike's languid eyelids popped wide open and his jaw dropped.

Flushing under the intensity of his gaze, Buffy squirmed. "What?"

"You'd choose me over him?" he asked softly, reaching out one hand to stroke her wrist until she trembled.

Her eyes fell, and her confident, brash attitude fled. "I...I can't be with him and I...I don't want to be alone. I don't mean for that to hurt you, Spike, but you know I still love Angel," she added quickly. "We just can't be together, and I think...I mean...I think it's obvious I feel something for you more than just lust," she finally whispered.

"You do?" He was truly surprised and felt a smile break out on his face. "You like me?"

Buffy flushed and ducked her head even more as his smile widened. "I think I should go talk to Angel," she mumbled as she pushed herself backward off the bed.

Spike's smile turned to a petulant scowl. "Why?"

"So, that he doesn't rip off your cock and make you eat it," she retorted, heading for the door.

In the darkened bedroom across the hall, Angel sat like a stone, unmoving as he had been for the last several hours. His sensitive ears had caught everything, from their soft snores, to his childe's groans of pleasure, then murmurs of pain, the smacking and sucking of hungry lips on responsive flesh, Spike's howl of pleasure, and Buffy's tongue rasping against soft skin as she licked herself clean.

He'd listened to punish himself, to force himself to accept what he saw at best as a travesty and at worst as a betrayal of his love for the Slayer.

He'd tried not to listen to their conversation, but he'd been helpless to resist when Spike learned that she liked him. His childe's surprise had been so clear.

As had been his need.

Whether he'd admit it or not, Spike cared for Buffy. That she returned his feelings shocked the younger male. Angel remembered all too well how that felt, to be on the receiving end of Buffy's caring and concern.

And love.

A chill wrapped around Angel and he sank deeper into the chair, his numb fingers tightening around the velvet covered arms.

After several hours of thinking, and then listening to the obvious pleasure his beloved and his favorite childe got from each other, Angel finally admitted to himself that Buffy was right.

This was the modern world and he never had been a big follower of the old ways. Spike had goaded him into punishing him, and his demon, bound so tightly, had fought free to join the urging.

And Angel *was* angry, angry and frustrated. If only the curse...

If only...

Shaking his head sadly, he closed his eyes against the tears he could feel stinging the corners. It was no use thinking of what might have been. He had to deal with the present.

He had to deal with Buffy and Spike. It was too easy to give into the anger that the thought of them together generated, but he was better than that, better than the demon who wanted to punish and destroy.

His human side needed to keep control.

And he had to let Buffy go.

Buffy stood outside the door to Angel's room for several long minutes before finally finding the nerve to turn the knob. She wasn't particularly surprised to find the room in pitch darkness, but she could sense the familiar presence in the far corner.

A lamp flicked on, illuminating Angel's shuttered eyes, his clenched jaw. Sorrow washed over her and she closed the door behind her before walking towards him. There was a stool next to him, but she avoided it, sitting instead on the edge of the bed. She needed to be in a position of strength, not at his feet.

"I'm sorry," Buffy finally said, not really knowing where or how to start this very necessary conversation.

"For what?" he asked sadly.

"For...hurting you. It was wrong to sneak around and keep it a secret from you, but...Okay, probably there is no excuse, but I wasn't sure what it was, what it is," she corrected, "that Spike and I have."

"And now you know?" Pain shown in his eyes, making her flinch.

"Something. Something real and beyond sex. I think it took last night, you finding out, you punishing Spike, to make me realize that I care for him."

"Great," Angel muttered. "Just what I wanted to be, the catalyst to drive you into his arms."

"I know we hurt you. It wasn't fair of me to keep seeing you to even the limited extent that I have been. And it wasn't fair to Spike, either. I kept trying to deny him and the attraction between us, hoping that it would go away, and I think I kept hoping that the curse would go away, too."

Buffy slumped on the bed, digging her fingers into the bedding on either side of her legs, and murmured, "But, it's not going to go away, is it, Angel? We're never going to be together."

Angel shook his head slowly. "It's not fair of me to keep you at my side, unable to do more than kiss you without fear of losing my soul. You deserve so much more and not just sex, but a man who can love you wholly and completely."

His eyes bored into her bent head, as he continued solemnly, "Spike can't do that, Buffy."

"I don't love him, Angel." Their eyes met, sorrow filling both sets. "But, he makes me happy. Yeah, true, all we've basically shared so far is sex, but I'm ready to see if there is something else there. Companionship, friendship, caring, whatever it is."

Buffy took a steadying breath. "He makes me laugh, Angel. And he infuriates me like no man ever has, even you."

"That's nothing to build a relationship on."

"And maybe it's time I learned that on my own," she replied. "Maybe it's time you let me go to make my own mistakes. I know what he is, Angel. I know what he can do. I know that he'll probably turn on me someday. But, you know what? I'm all grown up now, and I can handle him and I can handle a relationship with a demon."

Angel took a deep breath and sagged even more in the chair. "You were right last night. I have no say in your life anymore. I pushed you away. I will always, always love you, but I...I want you to be happy."

"I could have been happy with you, even if we could never touch again, but you didn't want that," she replied sadly.

"I did, Buffy, but I know there's so much more and it's unfair of me to hold you back. Your life is..."

"Short," she answered for him, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "It's okay to admit it, Angel. I've grown used to it. The oldest Slayer made it to twenty-five but the average doesn't make it to twenty. And so, yeah, I want to live life to the fullest. But I was willing for that to be with you."

She rose to her feet and reached down for his hands, urging him to stand as well. When he did, she buried her face in his chest, inhaling his unique and familiar scent. Angel lowered his head, pressing his lips to her crown, letting the tears slip from his eyes.

"You will always be my first love," Buffy murmured, "and I hope you will always be my friend."

"I will," he choked out. "I will always be there for you."

Spike blatantly eavesdropped on every word being said across the hallway, listening as well for the emotions behind the words.

He was still amazed that Buffy felt something for him. Holding onto that amazement, he didn't allow her affirmations of her love for Angel to faze him.

After all, she wasn't the first love of his life, either.

Sitting bolt upright on the bed, Spike nearly swallowed his tongue at that thought. Panic filled him and he leaped from the bed to fling open the closet door and rummage for something to wear. His back throbbed with pain, but he ignored it, too caught up in these fuzzy feelings.

Tugging on a pair of tight jeans, he heard Buffy softly start to cry, and a pang went through his chest.

"Oh, fuck...this is insane," he muttered to himself as he searched for a decent shirt.

He was flinching at the feel of a cheap polyester and cotton blend against his healing back, when the door opened and Buffy walked into the room.

"What are you doing up?"

Turning, Spike made note of her red eyes and sad expression, and felt an overwhelming urge to go comfort her.

"Getting out of here."

"It's still daylight for a couple more hours."

"Fuck." Leaving the shirt hanging open, he sank gingerly onto the end of the bed. "I hate this place."

"Bad memories?" Buffy joined him, taking his hand in hers.

Staring down at their joined hands, Spike felt another pang of emotion, and shuddered slightly. "Yeah. Rotten to the core."

Carefully, Buffy rested her head on his shoulder. "Angel's accepted us being together."

Spike snorted softly. "He hasn't accepted us; he's just letting it be."

"Well, the end result is the same."

"Yeah." He was a bit amazed by that, too.

"So, what happens next?"

Spike pondered that for a minute, than brushed his lips across her forehead. "Could you go see if there's any blood in the fridge?"

"That's not what I meant."

"I can't think on an empty stomach."

"Okay." Rising to her feet, Buffy gave him a reassuring smile, then left the room.

As soon as he heard her feet hit the stairs, Spike rose and limped across the hall. He wasn't surprised to find his sire brooding in the nearly darkened room. Angel's eyes were sorrow-filled slits, staring unfocused at the far wall, and his chin rested on his steepled fingers. He was as still as a statue.

"What do you want, Spike?" he asked, not looking at his childe.

"...Dunno actually." Spike walked farther into the room and painfully bent down to scoop up his boots and coat from the floor.

"I won't stand in your way anymore," Angel forced out, his fingers pressing tightly together until the pads turned white. "I hate this."

"Yeah, I know."

Finally, the older male looked up, his eyes locking on his childe until Spike began to squirm.

"If you hurt her, I will make you suffer an eternity of torment," Angel promised softly with relish.

Swallowing convulsively, Spike nodded. "I believe you."

"Good." The dark eyes shifted back to the far wall. "I'll make sure that the clans know I've relinquished my claim on Buffy, and that you follow the traditions."

"Thanks." Spike shifted uncomfortably. It was so much easier to deal with Angel when either of them was in a rage, pissed off, or drunk. He could feel the sire/childe bond stretch between them, and he didn't like it.

"It's probably a good idea if we don't cross paths too often, Spike."

"Yeah, I agree. Um, you're not going to spread it around that I'm sleeping with the Slayer, are you?"

"I'd rather spend another five hundred years in hell," Angel shot back. "You'd better be careful, Spike. Betrayal runs in our family, and sleeping with the enemy is one of the greatest betrayals to our kind."

"I know, mate. Every time I touch her, I know it's wrong on every level...but I just can't stop."

"You're luckier than you deserve," Angel replied through clenched teeth. "And you probably should get out of my sight."

Spike quickly backed towards the door. "Yeah. Good idea." Pulling the door shut, he hurried back across the hallway to find Buffy waiting for him, mug of blood in one hand, foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

"Confronting Angel, not a good plan, Spike."

"Had to get my boots," he mumbled, dumping them on the bed and taking the mug from her.

She rolled her eyes and plopped down in a dusty chair, watching him drink the blood. She couldn't help but smirk at his disgusted expression.

"Sodding poof and his pig's blood..."

"So, where do we go from here?" Buffy asked again.

Spike groaned. And he wanted a relationship with the Slayer why?

 

The End

 

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