“Well, that answers that,” Gunn said slowly.  “Looks like it’s gonna take both Angel’s and Spike’s souls to control the Order.”

*   *   *

The sound of a door opening down the hall caught his ear immediately.  Angel melted further back into the shadows and watched, as silent as a wraith.  A figure almost as silent as he emerged from the room and after watching her stealthy approach – with no small degree of appreciation – he stepped from the shadows to signal his location.

“Master Angel,” Illyria said, tilting her head as she stopped before him.  “It is fourteen hundred, and I have been assigned the last Watch.  I do not comprehend the need for it, however, as both the West wing and the cage room are secured by majical wards originating from the spelled star, and those wards, since we have now accounted for the power of the witches, appear generally unbreakable.

“Just a precaution, Illyria.  We can’t be too careful right now.”

“That is wise,” she agreed with a small, almost imperceptible nod of her head.

“Are Wesley and Gunn all right?” the Master of her Clan asked.

“They are fine.  They stood their Watch after Spike.  We have been up for the last hour, stimulating our shells together.  It was enjoyable and I believe they are still doing so now,” she finished without inflection.

“Good,” Angel replied, smiling tiredly.

The blue God didn’t appear to have anything else to add, so with a curt nod he left her for his own room, where he shed his clothes and climbed under the covers, foregoing the shower that had sounded so good to him while he stood his Watch, in favor of the comfort of his bed.

Twenty minutes later he was still awake, despite feeling quite drained by the events of the night.  He stared up at the ceiling of the darkened room, but finally threw aside the covers, slipped a black silk robe on and left his room.  Across the hall he paused at his childe’s door for a few minutes.  Illyria watched him curiously, then turned away to pace the other end of the wing, near the stairway.  Angel chose that moment to slip inside Spike’s door.  He shut it silently behind him and unerringly made his way across the darkened room, until he stood beside the blonde’s bed.  The younger vampire lay sprawled across the mattress, half under the covers, with his arms and feet sticking out.  He was perfectly still, and Angel silently pulled up a chair and sat down, watching his childe sleep and thinking back on the hours past.

“What’s wrong?”

Angel hadn’t been aware of his attention wandering until Spike’s voice unexpectedly broke his introspection.  When Angel looked down, he was surprised to see that his childe lay exactly as he had a minute ago, in the midst of a deep sleep, but that his eyes were now open.

“First your brooding won’t let me sleep, and now it’s waking me up.  You gotta work on that, mate,” the blond said lightly, trying to keep the concern out of his own voice so as not to add it to the weight obviously bearing down on his sire.

“Sorry,” the dark vampire murmured.

“What’s wrong?” Spike asked again.

Angel shrugged and shook his head, looking away.  Spike heaved a dramatic sigh of exasperation.

“Get in here, ya pouf,” he said, holding the covers up and sliding over to one side of the bed.

After a hesitant pause, Angel stood up and threw his robe across the foot of the bed, sliding in along the open space.  His pose mirrored that of his childe’s, both of them lying flat on their backs, staring up at the ceiling.  There was a good foot of space separating them that Angel wanted desperately to close, but he felt completely incapable of articulating that need or initiating any action to bring it about.

“C’mon pet,” Spike finally murmured softly.  “Just say it.  Tell me.”

“I…”  Angel swallowed hard.  “You told the others you felt something when we finally connected with the rest of the Order.  What did you feel?”

“You know what I felt,” Spike replied gruffly.  “You felt it, too.”

“Yeah,” Angel agreed quietly.

“Nothing for you to get worked up over, mate – ‘s not like your soul’s in jeopardy.  It was only for a minute.  Less than a minute,” he corrected quickly.  “It’s all shiny and intact, still the same soul you woke up with yesterday, yeah?  Not corrupted by mine,” he added, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“Don’t,” Angel said quietly.

Spike swallowed hard, glad that the darkness gave him some sort of cover, little enough though it was.

Angel lay silent beside the other still figure for a long time after that, but neither of them slept.

“I’ve been alone for so long,” the older vampire finally said.  “There was the twenty years with Darla and Drusilla and you, and the hundred and change before Dru, where it was just Darla and me, but sometimes I can barely remember that time, it seems so long ago.  A century living off rats in dank alleys has a way of messing with your memories,” he added quietly.  It took you two weeks to acclimate to your soul.  It took me over ninety years before I was willing to even attempt to join the world again, and, well, you know how that ended,” he said, shrugging.

“Hell,” Spike replied curtly, lifting his hands to cross them beneath his head as he considered what a century in that place had done to his souled and emotionally fragile sire.

“Yeah.”

Spike didn’t know what to say to that.  There didn’t seem to be anything to say.  Nothing could change the horror of what his sire had endured, and there was no use in pretending otherwise.

“Even with Cordelia and Doyle,” Angel finally continued.  “I still felt isolated.  No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t relate to them, to what they were or how they lived.  I’m not very good at keeping abreast of modern times,” he added, as though that might be news to his childe.

That straight line was a comedian’s dream, but for once the normally irreverent blond felt no inclination to rise to the bait.  Instead he simply nodded and waited.  Angel rarely ever spoke at all, but when he did, Spike tended to listen, no matter how he might pretend to do otherwise.

“When you stepped into the circle and activated your own aura, I felt your soul brushing against mine.  It was like before, when I marked you – incredible.  But then it changed…”

Angel paused, but finally he drew a deep breath and said what had been haunting him for hours now.  “You felt it, didn’t you?  You felt our two souls merge into something new, from two separate entities into one new one.”

“Yeah,” his childe replied hoarsely.  “I felt it.”

“It was amazing,” the dark vampire whispered so softly Spike wasn’t certain he’d heard correctly.  In fact he was almost positive that he couldn’t have, and jerked his head to the side to stare at his sire’s profile in the darkness.

“I’ve never felt anything like it.  For the first time in a long time, I felt like I wasn’t alone.  That there was something – someone – who was there… with me.  For a moment it felt like I’d never be alone again.”

Spike sucked in a sharp breath.

“I didn’t want it to end,” Angel finished quietly, trepidation in his voice for how his childe would view that confession.  He’d probably mock him now for being weak.  He could almost hear it, but the words that actually came were not expected in the least.

“You’re not alone, Angel.  Wesley and Gunn and Illyria aren’t going anywhere – they’ve sworn themselves to you.  And for as long as you need me, I’ll be here,” he added.  It was clear from the tone of his voice that he didn’t consider that assurance much of a selling point.  He was wrong.

Angel’s stillness ended as he turned abruptly to burrow against his childe’s side.

Spike looked down at the head resting on his chest, shocked.  His sire had held him many times during his fledgling years, and a few times just recently, but he couldn’t recall ever holding his sire, not like this.  He couldn’t recall Angel ever requiring his comfort, much less asking for it, either directly or indirectly.  It had always been the other way around.

“It was barely there, but I miss it already,” Angel murmured, his voice breaking huskily.

Spike stared, still shocked, but couldn’t resist giving the comfort his sire so obviously needed.  Slowly his arms lowered from beneath his head to tentatively wrap around the broad shoulders resting upon his torso.  He soothed lightly along the trembling arms and back, feeling completely inadequate to the task.  He was the childe here, the pain-in-the-arse, trouble-making, smart-mouthed childe.  He didn’t know how to be the opposite of those things, at least not where his sire was concerned.  He’d spent too many years in Angelus’ absence perfecting that devil-may-care Big Bad persona to change now, or so he thought.

“Shh,” he murmured, trying despite the certainty that he would fail.  “It’s okay, I’m here.  I’m not going anywhere, Angel, I swear.”

A whimper escaped the dark vampire in his arms, and Spike was shocked anew, tightening his hold and eyeing the darkness around him, as though daring anything or anyone to trouble his sire now, when he was under his childe’s protection and care.

“I’m here,” he repeated softly, nuzzling lightly against the dark stands of hair, surreptitiously breathing in the sire scent there.

Angel pushed closer to his childe’s chest, draping himself along one edge of the blonde’s pale length and under one arm until his larger body was completely enclosed in the smaller vampire’s embrace.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, completely disconcerted by the need that filled him.

“Shh, it’s all right, Angel, I’m here,” the blond repeated, petting him as though he was the most fragile thing in existence.

Angel had never felt anything like it.  Not with Darla (she’d always been a hellcat in bed) and not with Buffy (she needed to be handled with kid gloves, not the other way around).  For all his years and experience, he’d never had such tenderness bestowed on him, and it felt wonderful.  When he felt soft lips press like butterfly wings upon his brow, tears filled his eyes.  He brushed his check against the solid strength of the chest beneath him, tilting his head up.

Spike stared down, blue eyes and brown now both obsidian black in the darkness of the room.  Angel didn’t move, and finally, after what felt like an endless length of time, it was the childe and not the sire who broke the stillness.  Slowly, as though sure he would be rebuffed at any moment, Spike leaned down until his lips brushed the ones turned up to his.  He waited a minute, but his sire was completely still beneath him.  When he pulled back, Angel’s eyes were closed and his lips slightly pursed, as though a kiss were still upon them.  Spike couldn’t resist that invitation, real or imagined, and bent to take them again, this time moving softly over the silky surface, nuzzling against them to find the perfect fit.

And suddenly there it was.  Spike’s arms tightened about the strong body nestled to his, and with the barest turn of his head, the space between them became utterly seamless.  Finally Angel moved, pressing into the kiss as though afraid it would be withdrawn.  And then it was.  Spike pulled back and Angel whimpered, but the sound was muffled when Spike’s lips returned immediately, the touch and taste all the sweeter for their momentary absence.

“Christ,” Spike murmured, overwhelmed by the sensation of that perfect kiss.  He was as hard as a rock, and in his head, over and over again, the words echoed; move Angel, move…

And when Angel finally did, rolling them together using his superior weight and strength, Spike breathed a gusty sigh of relief.  That sigh caught in his throat though, escaping as a gasp of shocked surprise, when he found his own slighter weight upon his sire’s larger body, rather than the other way around.  The darker vampire’s cock strained hard and high between their bellies, right beside his own, and despite his shock, he couldn’t help writhing upon the body beneath his, rubbing their leaking pricks together, unneeded breath hitching harshly in his ears.

“Angel, Angel, Angel…”

He was barely aware that he repeated his sire’s name aloud in a chanting litany of need.

“Spike,” his sire breathed out, his voice aching and yearning.  “Please…”

And then something incomprehensible happened.  The older vampire lifted his legs to wrap them around his childe’s hips.  “Please, Spike,” he repeated with harsh urgency

Spike jerked away abruptly, but found his torso held by his sire’s strong legs.  He leaned back as far as he could, eyes wide and nostrils flaring as he stared down at the older vampire lying beneath him.  Angel’s eyes implored him, and they were glistening with tears.

Spike had never seen his sire cry – never!  He couldn’t comprehend it, but more importantly, he absolutely couldn’t resist it.  He leaned down until their foreheads touched.  “Shh, da, it’s all right,” he murmured, feeling tears prick his own eyes.  “I’ve got you.”

Angel’s hand came up to wrap around the back of his childe’s neck, holding them together.  He tilted his lips up to brush his childe’s before settling back on the mattress, and after a small pause, Spike dipped down, chasing their retreat.  This kiss, like the others, started out tentative and soft, but unlike the others, it quickly became lush and deep.

Angel whimpered again, into his childe’s mouth, and canted his hips up.  “Please, Spike, I need to do this now, while I can still remember what it felt like to share a soul with you, before the memory of it is lost forever.”

Spike shook his head, squeezing his eyes tight against the imploring need.

“Please, Spike, please…”

His sire was pleading with him.  It was beyond understanding and beyond belief.

“I can’t Angel.  It’s not…  I don’t…”

Angel closed his eyes and turned his head to the side.  He raised one arm to place it over his face, clearly embarrassed at having begged for such a thing from his childe.  “It’s okay,” he said, his voice tight.  “Forget it.”

It felt like an anchor was sitting on Spike’s chest.  Beneath his hips, Angel’s erection had wilted completely, making a humiliated retreat.  Angel’s hand fell away from his neck, and he tried to roll to one side and slide out from under the smaller vampire on top of him.  Without thought, and in spite of what he’d just said, Spike reached out with both hands and pushed him back to the mattress.  He couldn’t let it end this way.  He had to try and make his sire understand.

“Bloody hell, Angel, you know I want to.  Christ, what I wouldn’t have given back in the day…”

“It’s okay,” the dark vampire repeated, once more trying to escape the lighter weight.

“No,” Spike said, pushing him down again.  “It’s not.  Please don’t…  Please let me explain.”

“I understand, really.  It’s the lore, it’s Angelus, it’s us.  I get it, okay?”

His voice was edged with anger, but Spike read the vulnerability and hurt in his sire’s eyes that the anger was intended to hide.

“No, it’s not.”  Spike stopped abruptly.  “Well, okay, it is those things.  We’ve done a lot, you and I, but there’s always been a line.  You spent a lot of time making sure I knew just how far I could go, and not an inch further.  I don’t know that I can break through that conditioning after all this time.”

Spike looked miserable at that disclosure, and Angel’s features softened, the anger abruptly dissipating.  The older vampire reached out to stroke lightly along one cheek.

“I know.”

The heart Spike didn’t have felt like it was breaking.  His face crumpled.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shh, baby,” his sire, said, continuing to stroke his cheek, now giving the comfort.  “It’s okay.”

Spike fell forward into strong arms.  They circled him and held him tight, and he pressed his face against his sire’s broad chest.

“Shh,” Angel repeated, stroking now along the slender planes of the blonde’s back, along the trembling shoulders and arms.  A part of him was glad Spike had refused.  He knew this role.  He was comfortable in it.  He’d just about convinced himself that it was really for the best, when Spike leaned up and took his mouth in a hard, long kiss and he completely lost his train of thought.  The taste of salty tears was heavy on his tongue, and he tightened his hold on the smaller vampire, needing to make it right again.

The kiss between them suddenly became desperate as Angel tried to do just that.  A few minutes passed before he realized that while he’d thought that he’d effectively taken control again, Spike had, instead of conceding it to him, begun to fight him for it.  Angel stopped and let his childe take the lead for as long as he was comfortable with it.

Angel thought Spike would give over the lead after the blond had stroked him to hardness again.

But he didn’t.

When his childe slid down his body and sucked him almost to orgasm, then stopped, Angel was sure he’d lay back or get on his hands and knees.

But he didn’t.

When his childe pushed his legs back to his chest and began to tongue his twitching hole…

Well, Angel really had no idea what he thought just then, since his eyes were somewhere in the back of his head and a loud buzzing in his ears made him completely insensate to anything but that noise and the wet tongue inside him.

And still, when Spike finally stopped that torture, Angel fully expected his childe to hand the reins back to him, his sire.  So when the head of Spike’s dripping wet cock was pressed to his now slicked up hole, he was totally unprepared, to say the least.

It wasn’t until his childe drew his legs up over his arms and then fell forward, burying the meaty head of his prick inside him, that Angel finally realized – belatedly, to be sure – that Spike had found the strength to over-ride his conditioning.

And then there was no more thought.  And then there was just the blue, blue depths of his childe’s eyes, and Angel was drowning in them.  There was just the pressure, push and pull of that long pale cock he knew so well, doing something it had never done to him before.  There was just the rough, sexy voice he’d heard for a hundred years in his dreams, whispering what he’d always wanted to hear, that he loved him, that he needed him, that he’d never, ever leave him.

And that was all it took.