He felt like a spectre at the feast, an orphan with his face pressed up against a window watching a family laughing and playing together. He wanted to belong, yet he was always on the outside aching to be included and not able to work out how he could manage it. He wanted to blame his soul, but he realised deep down that it was a failing in his internal make up – he was flawed.

Damaged.

He'd followed them all night and now they were dancing. He felt so left out, his heart refused to accept what his head was slowly beginning to realise. He was losing her to him – to Spike. Part of him wanted to laugh and the rest of him wanted to cry, but even then Angel realised that there was nothing in him that wanted to harm his grandchilde. And he was surprised—no, stunned. If he'd been half the vampire he had been back in the day, Buffy would be either deranged, drained or turned and Spike would be a faint whispering memory, the dust under his booted feet. .

'They look perfect together,' Angel admitted internally and sighed. He thrust his hands into his duster pockets, his eyes never leaving the blond couple as they swayed and moved to a beat only the two of them could hear. Their bodies and minds in perfect unison as they twisted and whirled around and around, arms moving in deft quick moves. Angel sank to his knees, the pain in his heart doubled at the sight of Spike exchanging a brief grin with Buffy. His mouth opened in a silent scream of unrelenting anguish, unaware of his two silent observers.

"Duck, Spike." Buffy's voice called to his soul and Angel looked up from the ground. He could barely see her through the tears swimming in his eyes. She reached over and dusted the vampire that was about to slam a tombstone over Spike's head. 'They were lyrical.' He took a deep and unnecessary breath as he watched the two of them fight side by side. Their energetic moves were perfectly choreographed, they were the mirror image of each other dancing and fighting – it was all the same in his mind.

He was losing them both and it hurt more than he could express.

He was so alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Geez, Spike. Come on. We're gonna be so late for Bronzing goodness!" Buffy exclaimed as she staked her final opponent. She turned to watch Spike bob and weave as he fought the final fledge with a maniacal grin of glee on his full lips. She licked her lips automatically, wondering if he'd felt the same about that kiss. It had shocked her out of her socks, well if she'd been wearing any it would've. The kiss had been more than any other she'd ever experienced, and she wanted more, but didn't know if he did. He was so much more experienced than her and well she felt kinda teenyboppy with the squeeage over it with Willow. Buffy blinked, astounded, all the time she'd been 'lips of Spikeing' no thought of Angel had entered her mind. She felt bad. There had been a time, before Spike turning up, that Angel had been the centre of her thoughts. And well now...

Spike whirled, his duster floating out around him dramatically as he plunged his specially carved stake into his opponent's chest without any muss or fuss. He tossed it up in the air, watching the silver handle gleam in the pale moonlight before a slender tanned hand snatched it up.

"Ohh, shiney." Buffy held the intricately carved stake up and gazed at it enviously. Spike stepped back and lit a cigarette, his azure eyes never leaving her flushed face. He grinned at her wide eyed excitement and interest. He respected a woman who appreciated a nice weapon. Mentally slapping himself for the awful pun, he stuck the fag in the corner of his mouth. Squinting his eyes through the smoke, he tipped his head back and sighed melodramatically.

"I suppose you can have it." He grinned at her excited squeal, holding up a hand to stop her bouncing around the cemetery like Tigger on acid. "Only if you can find the toy surprise in it," he said and smirked at the sudden shift of concentration in her.

Buffy frowned at the stake and ran her fingers over the carved sigils and protective runes, her mind registering the beauty of the piece. "Toy surprise?" She shifted her attention to the silver handle, her finger tips rubbing over the embossed work. "Where did you gets?" she asked perkily.

"Was a pressie from the being who recruited me to come here," he sighed. Spike mentally groaned at the sight of her hand absently sliding up and down the stake, he wrapped his duster around him and surreptitiously adjusted himself. Her innocence radiated on her face, but the inadvertent lasciviousness action of her hand was going to kill him. He was desperate to grab her and press her hand against his aching cock, but managed to restrain himself. He settled for watching the tiny crease of concentration appear on her forehead and the tip of her pink tongue unconsciously popped out as she tried to find the hidden catch. 'Oh hell...'

"Oh," Buffy nodded, her attention half on the stake and the half on him. "Got it!" she squeaked excitedly and pushed the release button. "Wow, that's awesome." The thin silver blade glittered wickedly in between them.

"Nice one, right? Got the mate to it right here." He patted his coat pocket and then grunted, his unprepared arms full of warm slayer body. He quickly caught hold of her hips and twisted her slightly so that she rested against his side and not on his rock hard cock. He grimaced and wondered when he'd become such a gent.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure." And it was as he cradled her firm form against his and wondered if he could dust from sexual frustration.

~~~~~~~~~~

He knew he shouldn't lurk and stare but it was all that was left for him. It had started the moment the peroxide menace had arrived. Now Spike was the centre of everything and part of him--an infinitesimal part of him—resented it. Most of the time he was proud and wished he had the pizzazz that the younger vampire had, but he'd lost it when the guilt from his centuries of kills had mired him in an unliving purgatory. One he deserved to be in; he'd raped and pillaged his way through the years without a thought for the destruction he had wrought and now he was making amends. But he couldn't work out Spike at all. He was cursed to fight for good, but never revealed why. Angel frowned. He knew it wasn't a scam to lull Buffy's defences down and then bag his third slayer as Whistler and that weird chick had vouched for him. He hadn't liked her very much. She had a harsh voice and she'd smelled funny-- all of which made his hands clammy.

Angel suppressed a growl when a bunch of teens jostled him out from under the stairs. He glanced around desperately searching for cover, but it was too late. He heard his name being called over the music filling the Bronze. Of all of them he knew it would've been Willow to spot him, she was still in that awkward teenage stage and being a good soul she was aware that he was as uncomfortable in crowds as she was. Her loyalty to Buffy made her welcome him during the few instances that they were around each other.

"Angel, over here. We didn't know if you'd come." Willow waved a hand enthusiastically and gestured to the table where the others were all crowded around.

His broad shoulders slumped and then straightened with determination. He looked around for Buffy but she wasn't anywhere to be seen. There were too many pheromones in the air for him to be able to scent her, so he made his way through the crowd to Willow and Xander. Angel schooled his face into a blank expression at the sight of the male Scooby. Xander glared at him before muttering something under his breath and then sipping from the glass in front of him.

"Hey." Angel shifted uncomfortably on his feet and looked anywhere but at the empty chair Willow had patted encouragingly.

"Soulboy," Xander grunted. His eyes flickered dismissively over Angel. He felt intimidated by the older and more experienced vamp. He also wasn't too sure about the Buffy interest-- it edged on the side of creepy stalker guy. Xander surreptitiously peeked over at the pool table where Spike and Buffy were engaged in a game. 'How come Angel isn't more like Spike?' Xander blinked and then gulped loudly. Willow frowned at his unexpected 'fish out of water' impression.

"Xander? You okay?" She reached over and stroked him on the back of the hand, concern marring her smooth forehead with faint lines and her pale green eyes ever-filled with warmth and affection.

Xander shook him head, his mouth firming as he tried to stop himself form shrieking at the top of his lungs. "Fine, just thinking with the big thoughts and kinda surprised myself with something." There was no way he was saying anything. Spike was an okay guy for a member of the undead club, and big bonus points that he hated Angel as much, if not more that himself . They had bonded over their jibes at the brooding hulk and Xander was still trying to assimilate Spike = friend into his book, to his surprise it wasn't taking that long. What was weird was that it wasn't too hard to do so. Xander looked at the hunched uncomfortable form of Angel and wondered why he wasn't more up to date with the pop culture references and music like Spike was. He figured that was one big negative on the scales of fitting with the gang, not knowing what the hell they were talking about. 'Does he live under a rock? Hasn't he ever cracked open a comic book or turned on a tv?'

"Where's Buffy?" Angel ground out the question past his gritted teeth. The noise from the band was starting to give him a headache and all the people thronging around him were driving him to distraction. The scents of sweat, blood, arousal and teen hormones were making his fangs itch and his bumpies throb under the skin. He deliberately stopped breathing and mentally took a break to try and calm himself.

Xander twitched in surprise. The lummox who usually pretended he didn't exist had spoken to him. The imp in him was unable to resist. "Over there with Spike." He pointed over Angel's shoulder in the direction of the pool table, completely ignoring Willow's hissed 'don't' and firm kick in the ankle.

Angel rotated slowly in his seat, ready for the sight of the two of them together. He'd been ready since following them on patrol, and there they were. He watched impassively as Buffy leant over the table, cue stick in hand, and flipped her hair over one shoulder as she turned her head to exchange a comment with Spike. The peroxided boil on his butt was leaning against a pillar, a bottle of beer held loosely in his fingers as his other hand twirled the cue absently. He laughed at whatever Buffy said before she sunk the ball she was aiming at in the right corner pocket. Angel schooled his expression into a neutral one. For a split second in his mind's eye he had seen himself leap across the dance floor, tear off Spike's head and then lay Buffy out on the pool table and ravish her.

But he didn't do it. It was wrong.

"Oh," was all he managed before swivelling back round to face Willow's compassionate face and Xander's smirking one. A smirk that was so suspiciously familiar that Angel frowned. 'Wonder if he's been taking lessons from Spike?'

~~~~~~~~~

Spike had noticed the moment the ponce had come into the club. The familial ties were something he couldn't block out with Peaches, but he could choose to ignore him, so he did. It'd been a long night; the patrolling had been a barrel of laughs. A good brawl before a pint had always been the best way to start the night and with the Slayer, the fighting was guaranteed to be of the highest calibre.

He stared at her soft lips as she unconsciously pouted while lining up her shot. Her lips, they were pure temptation. He couldn't shake off the feeling of their kiss. The softness of her skin, the plump fullness of her mouth as it submitted to his, the tentative way her tongue had peeped out and tangled with his. 'Fuck, now I've got a hard on – again.' He surreptitiously adjusted his duster over his crotch and tried to will away the erection that was pressing against his zipper. He could sense she was an innocent, and the last thing he wanted to present for her pretty eyes to see was a monumental tenting effect in his jeans.

Spike cocked his head as he felt something come through the familial links that Angel was constantly trying to strengthen. He knew that the older vamp was lonely and depressed. That had pretty much been a given the moment the gyppos had shoved a soul up his arse, but now it seemed more desperate. There was a keen edge to it that had not been there a few days ago. Spike frowned. He looked over at Angel and was presented with the sight of his anguished appearance for a brief moment before he schooled his features into a blank expression and turned away from them.

"So the bet is, I get to stake the next three vamps if I sink this one?" Buffy flipped her hair over her shoulder and stuck her lower lip out in a cute pout.

Spike smiled and nodded, "Yeah, and no interfering from the Big Bad, scouts honour."

"As if you were a boy scout," she laughed and turned back to focus on her round shiny target.

"Ate a Scout Master once, does that count?"

Buffy wrinkled her nose and took the shot. She turned to face him without watching to see where the ball ended up, and knowing it would make its merry way into the pocket. "That is tooooo much information. I don't wanna hear about the bad old days!"

"Better than me pretending it never happened." Spike sauntered past her with a smirk as he watched the ball disappear into the netting. "Bollocks." He shook his head. "Should know better than to bet with you when if comes to staking vamps or killing demons and especially pool."

"Healthy competitiveness is something that cannot be denied, or so Giles says." Buffy giggled. She looked over at the table to wave at Willow and spotted Angel. Her happy smile faded away as worry and guilt rushed through her.

"He arrived a few minutes ago," Spike commented without looking over at her. He instinctively knew what she was thinking and was surprised with himself for not questioning it. He was starting to accept that his unlife was taking a different path than he'd planned and rather than fight it or brood over it, he'd decided to take it as it came and enjoy himself. Not that it was too hard with the pretty little chit that was currently playing pool with him.

"Maybe I should go say hi?" Buffy didn't want to but she realised that it would hurt Angel immensely if she didn't.

"Do what you think is right, luv. I'll be right here waiting for you." Spike lined up a shot and sank the ball without turning a peroxided hair.

Strangely, knowing he was there waiting for her gave Buffy the confidence to go to Angel. Ever since the kiss she'd felt guilty and avoided Angel as much as she could. This had been easy enough as he was still all with the cryptic warnings and fading away. If Spike hadn't turned up, she figured that it would've probably made her more interested in Angel. She had always been a sucker for the cute guys all with the broodiness, but something in Spike had called to her and whatever it was, she wanted to examine it more. Buffy realised that maybe Angel was too enigmatic for her. The romance of his aloof behaviour had been exciting at first, but now she didn't know. Spike was just more electrifying. His weirdness at the beginning long gone; now he was all with the fighty help and also was a whole lot more fun to hang out and patrol with. Not to mention that kiss. The kiss had been amazing, so much more than she'd ever experienced and Joyce hadn't raised a fool. Buffy wanted to see what more could come of it.

"Hi, Buffy."

Buffy nearly jumped out of her skin. She'd managed to walk over without realising it and was now staring blankly at Angel. It was only his soft greeting that had pulled her from her Spike-shaped thoughts. "Hey." She gave him a small wave. "What's up? Something demony around I need to kill?"

Angel frowned and then let out a big sigh. "No." He looked at her and realisation dawned; his actions in the past, only appearing to warn her when something evil was brewing, had helped push her into Spike's arms. 'Spike always was more fun to hang out with – even back in the day', Angel thought sadly. Gone were the days when he was a drinker and a brawler. Darla's fangs had birthed the darkness within him into full bloom and all he'd wanted to do was main and kill; there had been no room for fun and parties. Then the soul had seen an end to that and he sure as hell didn't feel like clubbing after the curse. He realised in that moment that he'd been to enigmatic for his own good, his fear of being around mortals with their tempting pulses had created the situation he was in now. Alone, sad and depressed, and without Buffy by the looks of it. "No, I just thought I would come out and say hi...so, um.,,hi?" He gave her a small smile.

Buffy had watched Angel closely from the moment he'd spoken; she could see the hurt in his eyes but didn't know what had put it there. She wished she could do something to make him a bit happier, but had no idea what to do. All their interaction so far was, 'ohhh, be careful. There is thing called The Harvest on or there's a vamp with a big fork instead of a hand after you'. They'd never really hung out and she had no idea what he was really like, except for the cute leather jacket he'd lent her, Buffy frowned wondering what she'd done with it.

"Hi." She gave him a teeny smile and waved again.

"So everyone's said hi. That's good. Buffster, how 'bout getting Blondie over there to come over and we can...oh crap." Xander glared over at the girl who had appeared by Angel's side. "Cordy, what do you want?" He frowned at the immaculately coiffed brunette who was giving Angel an assessing look.

Spike stared over at the tall, dark and foreheaded one and the tableau of potential drama that was unfolding at their table. Xander and Willow were both glaring at the brown-haired bint who'd insulted him the first night he'd gotten here. Angel was staring at Buffy as if she were a final meal, which made Spike's hackles twitch, and then there was his Slayer. She stood there awkwardly looking from her friends to Angel to the snot who was for some reason ogling Peaches as if he were the latest stud from a teen flick from the John Hughs oeuvre. A scarred brow quivered momentarily and then curved upwards to almost meet his hairline. Now there was potentially the answer to his Angel-shaped problems. A pretty chit, with a yen for some undead booty--not that she knew that yet. A veritable luscious big-breasted distraction, which may give them all a break from the doom-laden broodmeister. Maybe if he had a new girl to interest him then possibly Angel would not be so lonely and clingy. He had to play this one right and re-direct the Poof's attention onto the bint.

"Well...well...well, what do we have here?" Spike sauntered over and eyed Cordelia's immaculately clad form with a suggestive leer. "Aren't you a juicy lil'morsel?"

"Spike!" Buffy's eyes widened at the sight of the vampire she considered her property making with the flirtage with Spordelia.

"Trust me, pet," he murmured as he leant past her to slap a choking Xander on the back. His voice was whisper soft, pitched so low that only she could hear what he said.

"Eww, it's you. Nicotine boy with the bad dye job. Ever heard of a stylist, you Billywannabe?" Cordelia turned her nose up at Spike and batted her lashes at the hunk of salty goodness, who was rapidly losing cool points for sitting with Willow and geek boy. She so needed to rescue him from social suicide, his only redeeming points being that he knew Buffy. She eyed the blonde girl who she had been so sure would've been an excellent addition to the Cordettes. She had a veneer of LA cool still, but it was tempered with the Smokey the Blond bandit and nerd hanging out. But if she knew the big cutiepie, then maybe she was redeemable.

"Charming girl." Spike gritted his teeth and managed to refrain from ripping her viperous tongue out of her mouth and strangling her with it.

"Ain't she just? Willow and I just love her to bits," Xander whispered.

"Hmmm," was all Willow added to the Cordelia commenting.

"So who are you? And what are you doing over here with the nerd club?" Cordelia curled a hand around Angel's forearm and batted her lashes at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Um, well I better get in. Mom will be wondering where I got to." Buffy shifted from one foot to the other nervously. She wondered if Spike would try to kiss her, she was kinda hoping yes.

Spike rubbed the back of his head with one hand and looked sheepishly up at her. He kicked at the ground with one foot as Buffy stepped up onto the porch and reached for the door knob.

"I had a good time, with the Slayage, Bronzing goodness and the poolage. The mating rituals of Cordy were a bit funky to watch, but hey, it was all of the good, right?"

"You're cute when you ramble," Spike teased. His eyes lit up with humour and, unable to resist the cuteness that was Buffy, he leapt up onto the porch and wrapped her in his arms and gave her a sound kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~

She was so warm and pliable. Her limbs were covered with a slick sheen of dampness as he ran his broad hands over her soft lush form, his fingers deftly seeking out spots that made her squirm and giggle. He felt content, at peace and wanted.

His mouth followed suit, tasting all of her. From her smiling mouth to her tight nipples and the lush curves of her hips. The sweet nest of curls covering her swollen and soaked femininity was saturated with her excitement, and laved his tongue hungrily through them. Her fingers knotted in his hair as she undulated her hips and let her juice slicked thighs drop open to accommodate his shoulders.

"Lick me there, please...oh good, yes!" she screamed happily as his tongue lapped at her swollen nether lips. His fingers pulling them apart to reveal her hidden treasure and he watched fascinated as her opening flexed open slightly and then tightened closed. He could see her blood engorged clit pushing out from under its hood, begging for some attention. He pressed a soft kiss to the petal soft skin and ran his tongue gently along the sides, outlining the area he wanted to be buried in.

God, it had been so long since he'd touched anyone so intimately. The scent of her arousal was intoxicating him, slowly he let his tongue curve out and dip into her wet cleft. He moaned at the taste of her as he trailed his tongue up to her nubbin and tapped it gently. He winced slightly at her sharp nails digging into his scalp as she shouted out her delight; he took a breath and suckled her clit into his mouth.

"More, I need more, use your fingers in me, oh god, please," she chanted. Her heels drummed an unsteady tattoo on his back as he devoured her. Fingers thrust into her wetness as his mouth was busy on her red clit, teeth worrying it gently as he pulled her higher and higher into bliss. She curved
her back, pushing her swollen breasts upwards, one hand leaving his hair to trail up her flexing belly and tweak at her nipples, pulling them and twisting them as her arousal grew.

"Oh my gooooood, you're soooo good!" she screamed as her body tensed and then relaxed as her orgasm washed over her. "Hmmm, your tongue should be bronzed. Are you ready for me, sweetie pie?"

With that he was pushed onto his back and his lover slithered down his body, her long hair tickling his belly as she reached her destination. "Ohhh, hello, is that all for me? Yum!" She ran her tongue up the length of him and pressed a kiss on the crown of his cock.

Without any preamble, she took his aching cock into her mouth and sucked hard on the tip. Her hands rubbed the inside of his thighs and then reached down to cradle his balls, one finger sliding behind and tickling at his perineum, causing his hips to rock upwards. His cock thrusting down her throat, she took a breath and happily devoured him. One thing she knew she was good at was this and now that she had him in her bed there was no way that he was getting away without her giving him a blowjob that would rock his world and blow his mind.

"Oh Christ." He turned his head and groaned, a deep full bodied groan that came from the depths of his body. His hands cradled her bobbing head, his thick fingers threading through her long tresses, steadying her. His eyes were riveted to her full pouting lips as she slurped her way up and down his erection, determined to devour him whole.

He was in heaven.