Subject: [BA_Gutter] Charming Billy NC-17 Spangel/Chapter VII From: "spikesfool2003" Date: Tue, 29 Mar 2005 04:19:18 -0000 Chapter VII Spike reared back from the bed in shock, stumbled and landed hard on his butt. It all came at him like a swarm of furious bees, each sting of memory more painful than the last. Flashes of Liam laughing at him, comforting him, cutting his hair. The big man's face dark with jealousy as he watched him with Fred, the pretense of lessons when what they both really wanted was tearing at their guts. The dirty sweet pleasure of the mutual wank off. The remembrance of the previous night hit Spike like a sledge hammer. Hands and mouths and cocks everywhere at once, they'd rolled and fucked until too weak to move. Muscles limp with repletion, mouth to mouth they'd breathed each other in, the soft hiss of shared respiration cooling faces slick with sweat. Though there wasn't an ounce of spunk left between them, the need to be closer continued its tidal surge. The kissing went on and on, ungovernable, first tender and wet, then hard and urgent. Tongue to tongue they'd fucked the need between parted lips. Spike remembered it all, the whole sodding, bleeding mess from the minute they'd turned human until he'd crawled in a fog from the bed to look back with suddenly clear eyes. He remembered being Billy. He remembered Liam. It was too easy to panic. Wouldn't do that. Wasn't some nancy boy gonna pick up his skirt and run off screeching. But not panicking didn't mean he wasn't gonna get the fuck out as fast as he could. If he never saw Angel's face again it would be too soon. Snatching his clothes off the floor, Spike pulled on his pants, fumbling with the metal buttons, then wiggled quickly into his shirt all the while his head pounding with the knowledge he'd let Angel fuck him. Fuck him! Didn't matter they'd called each other by different names. It was still them in that bed screwing their dicks off. Once dressed, Spike backed away from where the man who was still sleeping lay hidden in mufti. Only a bit of dark hair and one bare foot proclaimed the identity of the one who had taken Spike in a tumble of fevered darkness a few hours before. Spike's body still burned with the wicked pleasures they'd shared. A connection born in the night, now embedded deep in Spike's gut, strained to hold even as he pulled away from it, cursing himself silently for being a stupid prat. He wasn't Billy. There had never been a Billy, even if there had been a Liam, a Liam who had broken him apart and made him into someone eager and new and full of hope for the space of a heartbeat. If in that beat, Spike allowed himself to think of the person as Billy, he quashed the idea ruthlessly. That vulnerability he would not allow. He'd not make the mistake of thinking it was Liam sleeping under the tangle of sheets. It was Angel—Angel who hated him. Spike had to leave, that was bloody certain. Go someplace else and suss out what to do, where to run, where to hide that Angel couldn't find him, laugh at him. Break his fuckin' heart into a million pieces. Spike scrabbled frantically looking for his boots, at last locating one near the dresser. Hopping on one foot, a fucking comedy routine in itself, he tried to pull it on, lost his balance and with a muffled curse fell backwards onto the bed. Spike froze, squeezing his eyes shut. Sweet Jesus. If his heart could beat, it would break his chest with its pounding. As it was, he felt dizzy and more naked than he ever had in his unlife. His insides were quaking. Don't let him... "Huh?" The word came out in a hoarse croak. "It's nothin'. Go back to sleep." Shit, shit, shit. A rumpled head rose from the bedclothes, two brown eyes blinking sleepily. A big hand slid out from under the covers and closed on Spike's thigh making him jump as if shocked by a jolt of electricity. "Come back to bed." The voice was husky with sleep. "Need you." "I've...I've gotta..." "Billy. What are ya doin' with your clothes on? Come back to bed." Liam blinked up at Billy, who was staring at him like some thunderstruck gobeen. He grinned. He felt wonderful. His body ached with the pleasant stretch of muscles well used. Looking at Billy's beautiful face, Liam felt the throb return to his prick. He rolled closer searching for the warmth of bare skin that had filled his senses even in his dreams. Spike stuttered as a huge paw insinuated itself under his t-shirt, then spewed out a line of nonsense that had the big man grinning at him. "What? Stop. What're you doin'." Fingers skimmed over one tender nipple making Spike wince. "Angel? Oh sweet fuckin' God....Liam?" "And who'd ya suppose it to be, darlin', playin' so with yer lovely body?" The lad seemed to be having a bit of trouble with his brain this morning. Liam chuckled, catching at Billy's arm to pull him back into the warmth of the bed. Maybe it had been jogged loose with the force of the rogerin' Billy had taken, crashed against the top of his skull and flattened. It had certainly felt possible. Liam had been so far up Billy's arse a sneeze could have blown his head off. Liam heated at the memory. His prick had been surrounded by a clench of hot flesh tighter than any fist, milking his spill from him, while Billy grunted hoarsely with each slam of Liam's hips. Who's to say they'd not shaken something loose in their mindless writhing? Cock now full and hard at the thought, Liam tried to lever Billy backwards so that he might cover him again. Instead, the boy tore away, scrambling out of the bed to stand panting down at him with wild eyes. "Liam? You're still Liam? That's not bloody possible. Is it?" "Billy, you're makin' no sense at all. Did I pummel your wee brain loose when I was up you're arse?" The hot flush of scarlet that flooded Spike's face would have done credit to any human let alone a vampire. His cheeks burned. "Something's wrong here," he muttered, backing away as Liam rose from the bed in unclothed splendor. At the sight of the vast expanse of male flesh, turgid dick slapping against the big man's belly, Spike's jean's were suddenly, painfully uncomfortable. He took a shaky step back. Then, brought up his hands to ward off the half ton of naked Irishman bearing down on him, but his gesture was swept away as his face was crushed into a broad, bare shoulder. "Lemme go, ya great git," he gasped, even as his chin was tipped up by an insistent finger and his mouth was seized in a hungry kiss. He fought it, 'course he did....after a couple of minutes or so. Well, maybe not quite so hard as he could have, what with hands big as platters kneading his arse like it was bread dough and a dick the size of a locomotive poking him in the belly. "Billy?" "Fuck off, Angel. I know it's you trying to play with my head." When the big man bent to kiss him again, Spike hit him hard in the chest with both palms, forcing him off. "And another thing!" Spike pointed an accusatory finger at Angel. The git was staring at him like he was some kinda sodding bug under a microscope. "If you think I'm leaving here because of this bollocks, think again, mate. I'm fighting the fight right along with you and the rest and you need me. You know you do." When Angel tried to speak, Spike waved him down. "We'll forget this happened. It was another bleeding spell and...." Spike's voice petered out as he took in Angel's face and the smile spreading across his lips. "Angel?" "Billy you're making no sense at all." "Angel?" It was finally starting to sink in. "Oh bollocks. Liam?" Spike tried again once he could get his mouth free from the fevered kiss that silenced him. "Liam?" "Why do ya keep saying that, makushla? Do I look like a stranger to ya after our congress of last night?" The color flamed in Spike's cheeks as he pulled away. "Never mind the congress," he mumbled, trying to run a nervous hand through hair that was too short to get his fingers into. "And see what you've done to my bloody hair!" Spike looked up to find a pair of big, brown cow eyes mooning at him. "Sweet Jesus. Liam, listen to me." Billy was twisting and wiggling under Liam's grip. He grinned happily. The lad was doing his angry hedgehog imitation and Liam didn't give a tinker's damn what it was about, he was content just to see him, taste him. He'd sling Billy over his shoulder and carry him back to bed if he didn't think it would earn him a bang on the nose and a tirade from the touchy bantam rooster flappin' his wings at him. "Come back to bed, me wee man. You can blister me fore and aft once we've settle in the sheets." "Angel...Liam. I'm not Billy." At the big man's look of confusion, Spike sighed, shaking his head. "I'm Spike." "Of course you are. And I'm that Angel fella. Haven't they made us into the picture of them both? But, don't get your bitty self all confused with the masquerade, Billy or you'll set my own head spinnin'." "Billy's gone, Liam. I'm back to myself." Liam's jaw set in a stubborn line, eyebrows scrunching together. "Now, don't you be telling me such. I know who you are, plain as gravy on a biscuit. Have you bumped your fuzzy nob on something sharp? Here. Let me see to it." Spike threw up his hands and gave in with ill grace, allowing himself to be turned this way and that until Liam was satisfied he wasn't bleeding anywhere. "Now will you listen to me?" Not liking it one particle, Liam finally shrugged. "Go on with ya, then. Tell me what has ya all a lather." "Look." Spike bit at his lip. "I don't know what's happened, but somehow I'm out of the spell and it's pretty bloody obvious you're not. We need to get Fred and Percy up here. Maybe they'll know what's going on and be able to snap you out of it before.... Liam, stop that. Now!" Liam nodded solemnly, not paying the least attention to Billy's maundering, just drawing him slowly, step by step back to the bed. When Billy tried to protest, Liam kissed him again, holding his face tightly between his palms while the smaller man struggled, then gave up and kissed him back. "We can't do this," Spike protested when he could break away. "And why is that, I'd like to know? Are you ashamed of what we did together in yonder bed?" "What? No. No! I'm not ashamed....exactly. But, we can't do it again. Liam. Listen to me. We hate each other in the present. I'm not dealing well with the idea we've fucked and Angel's gonna take it even worse." "This Angel fella is me." As Spike opened his mouth to speak, Liam waved him down. "Now don't tell me no different because it's what they've been saying all along. And I'll not....he'll not....take it for the worse. I care for you, Billy. Time won't change that. I lo—." "Don't you say another word." Spike placed a finger on Liam's lips. "I'll not have you telling me shite that Angel will dust me for hearing him say. I'm not Billy. Billy never existed. You've made him up in that thick Irish skull of yours." Spike had to stop himself from stomping his foot in exasperation. "And I suppose I fucked a phantom last night?" A large hand slid down Spike's spine to cup one hard-muscled buttock. Spike blinked, then tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. It was too much. He wanted it too much and if he took it, being himself and Angel still Liam, he'd have to leave L.A....maybe the bloody continent. "No, Liam. S'not happening again. Leave off." "I could take you. I'm stronger than your small self." "No, not now you're not, pet." To demonstrate, Spike gently gripped Liam around the biceps and pushed him away, holding him firmly when the big man began to struggle. "Vampire here, luv. You're no match for me. And neither is Angel." Spike couldn't keep himself from throwing in the small dig. The fingers clamping Liam's arms felt like bits of steel digging into his flesh. Not wanting to put up an unseemly battle and make a fool of himself, he took a step back. Billy immediately released him, tipping his head as though studying a particularly recalcitrant pupil. "So you're tellin' me you're this Spike now. Not saying I believe it," Liam qualified. "But, even if you are, you're still Billy. You're just Billy with a few years on ya." A pout began to form on Liam's handsome face, one that went straight to Spike's vitals. "Names don't matter, makushla. Tis what's inside that counts." Spike hung his head, not wanting to take it any further, but knowing it was necessary. Liam would never admit to it any other way. When he looked up, amber eyes shown with a predatory glow. The thick bumps and ridges of his overhanging brow resembled that of a dangerous beast intent on its prey. A small smile played over his lips allowing a glimpse of deadly ivory fangs. "Still thinking I'm Billy?" Spike lisped. "Can smell you now, pet. Can see your pulse beatin' fast in your throat, scent your blood throbbing there." He pointed and took a step closer. "The stink of your sweat, the smell of your dick leaking for me. Could suck you off with this mouth. You'd like the feel of fangs on your big, juicy prick, wouldn't ya. Give it that spark to make your spunk shoot hot as lava down my throat and I'd swallow every last drop." Spike licked his lips with a long, pointed tongue. "Want it now, Liam?" Liam's face had drained of color when Spike lifted his head. As he paced forward, hips swaying with the svelte grace of a predatory animal about to pounce, Liam stumbled shakily back until his calves hit the edge of the bed and he sat down abruptly. "Say something, mate. Tell me who I am now." Liam had difficulty swallowing. With a convulsive working of his throat, he forced words out past his suddenly parched lips. "You're Billy—Spike, whoever you say you are, me darling. I don't give a fuck." He stared in wonder at Spike. "You're like a great lion I've seen pictures of in storybooks. You look fierce as a wild animal and as deadly. Is this what we're to become then? The creature I make you into?" He gave a low laugh. "You think I care? As long as we're together I'll not waste a tear on it. You're beautiful." It wasn't the reaction Spike had expected. He was shocked. He shook his head roughly sloughing away his game face to stare open-mouthed at Liam. "You're a fucking madman, you are. Feel," Spike hissed. He grabbed Liam's hand roughly and shoved it under his shirt to the place where a heart once beat its reassuring timpani. Only eternal stillness now lay under the cool flesh beneath Liam's palm. "You're so cold, Bil...Spike." "That's because I'm a dead man, Liam. I'm a dead body animated by a fucking demon who drinks blood to exist. I'm a killer." Spike sank to his knees, vampire face abruptly returning. He darted in close to Liam's throat and sniffed deeply. "You smell so fuckin' good." A pink tongue slipped out to lap once at the tangy skin covering Liam's jugular vein. He shuddered as Spike wrapped an arm around his waist drawing their bodies together. Liam's hand, still inside the cotton shirt began to caress the taut swell of Spike's chest. "Then taste me," he whispered into the velvety plush of brown hair bumping against his chin. A full body shiver shook Spike to the soles of his feet. With a curse he sprang up putting as much distance as the room would allow between himself and temptation. Because he wanted it. Oh fuck, he wanted it with everything in him. They stared at each other with dilated eyes. The susseration of unsteady breath and the pounding of Liam's heart roared in Spike's supernaturally sensitive ears. When Liam tried to approach, Spike angrily shook his head. "Stay away. Won't be responsible if you come any closer." At Liam's look of concern, Spike laughed bitterly. "I'm just what you said, pet, a sodding animal. Wanna eat you up. Drink you down and fuck you while I'm doin' it." With a harsh cry, Spike ran from the room. When the blood stopped pounding in his ears so loud he couldn't think, Liam fell back on the bed. Liam was a naturally fearless man. Perhaps because he'd been born large and strong, he'd never quailed in the presence of another. Even when his Da beat him raw with his fists or a whip, he'd stare back in defiance. A tingle of something he'd not known before fluttered over his bare skin. Striving to be honest with himself, he acknowledged what he was feeling when Billy had turned those fierce golden eyes on him the moment before he'd run from the room. He'd been looking on Death, the great frightening boggity clothed in black, scythe in hand about to reap his life's blood. He'd been afraid. And then, he wasn't. His mind began functioning again and he knew with a surety he didn't question, Billy would never harm him. Billy loved as he was loved. What name he called himself didn't signify. What face he wore didn't matter an iota. Liam loved him with all the fierceness his proud soul was capable of and he would but love him better after death had taken them both. Dressing as quickly as he could with hands still weakened by the shock of adrenalin that had suffused his body at Billy's words, Liam went in search of his lover. Spike stood at the penthouse windows staring sightlessly down on the city. He was filled to the brim with self-loathing at what he'd almost done. He was no sodding fledge to go to pieces at the first smell of blood. He was a Master, for Christ's sake, and that had been Angel he'd been licking like a freaking lollipop. Spike lit a cigarette from the pack he'd found on the kitchen counter, inhaling the smoke sharply, squinting against the haze. It seared his throat in a good way. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes to savor the jolt of nicotine as it hit his system steadying him. In his head, Spike played back the scene with Liam in the bedroom. He might be Liam now, but sure as shit, he'd be Angel again soon enough. Something had gone wrong with Fred's sodding spell or whatever the fuck it was. She'd told them she was close yesterday, but Spike hadn't any idea how close. Now this bloody bollocks. He supposed he'd have to stay long enough to see Liam safely turned back to Angel. Then, he couldn't get out of L.A. fast enough. There must be another Hellmouth around somewhere that needed closing. Seemed to remember something 'bout one in Cleveland. Maybe he'd take a look see. Lend a helping hand. Long as Buffy wasn't about. Best to leave that where it'd ended. Wouldn't do to go stirring up dead ashes. Without turning around, Spike sensed Liam as he entered from the bedroom, a great shambling ox displacing air around him like a bulldozer ploughing through mud. Not that different from Angel then, when you go right down to it. "'M sorry 'bout what happened. Had no call to go slobbering on you like that. You'll understand when you're back to yourself." Spike gave a low chuckle. "Or maybe you won't. No call for it, though. Put it down to the shock of being a vamp again. I had a similar fit when I stopped being ghosted. Not half so enjoyable as this, though. Got myself in hand now. No worries." When Liam didn't answer, Spike turned slowly to study the other man where he lounged in the kitchen doorway arms folded across his chest. With a snort, Spike thought the least the bugger could do was look at little more like the fear of God had been put in him. Instead, Liam met Spike's speculative gaze with one of his own. "I see that you're different," Liam began. "I'm not a fool. Time will make changes. Some of them hard for me to understand I think. But I'll try. You say we hate each other now. That I'll not believe, darlin', or why would ya come at me like that in all your heathen beauty hungerin' after me?" "You're daft." Liam continued, ignoring the interruption. "I'll never hate ya, no matter what you're thinkin'." At Spike's look of denial, Liam shrugged. "I can see you'll not believe me, but it's God's honest truth, lamb. Now, I'll be content to call you by whatever name pleases ya. But, make no mistake, in me heart you'll always be Billy. You haven't changed as much as you seem to think." Spike could feel his hackles rising. He was nothing like that namby pamby little twit who wrote awful poetry and mooned his life away over someone he could never have, just hanging about in hopes of a smile or a soft word. He blinked at that disturbing thought. No way. "Then call me Spike. 'S my name. Only other I ever had was William." A gentle smile curved up the corners of his mouth. "Me Mum named me after the great poet. 'S too bad none of his genius rubbed off a bit on his namesake." "I never knew that." "Well, you wouldn't, would you? Never told nobody. Even Angel doesn't know." Spike looked at Liam in consternation. "Though now I suppose he will." Liam gave him a disconcertingly wolfish grin. "I'll have all your secrets out of you before we're through. Strip you bare as the day you were born, Billy." At Spike's frown, Liam shrugged. "Sorry. Spike. Tis a hard name for such a soft beauty as yourself." "Fuck. Stop saying things like that, Liam. My head's in enough of a muddle without listening to your blarney. And stop talking about being....bare. S'not gonna happen." Pacing away from the windows, Spike stubbed out his cigarette and reached for the phone. He eyed Liam warily as the big man approached, but he stopped a few feet away when Spike began punching in the numbers. Impatiently he waited for Fred to pick up. Liam only heard half of the conversation, but what he did made his temper rise. He didn't like Billy talking to the brown wren. He'd a mind to take the little bit of deviltry from him and smash it under his heel. "Kitten? Yeah, surprise. Uh huh. Well, sorta." There was a moment of silence while Spike listened to Fred's breathless chatter, then he cut her off. "Yeah, but see, we've got a bit of a problem. Uh huh. No, not that. 'Pears I'm the only one back." **************************** Spike felt a great sense of relief when Fred, Wesley and Gunn arrived cutting through the tension-filled atmosphere of the penthouse with their concerned babble. He wasn't comfortable being alone with Liam any longer. The temptation was too great. Their need for each other fizzled in the air like heat waves building to create a mirage. The wavering lines promising something that was an illusion. If Spike allowed himself to be sucked in, he'd surely die when the pretense was shattered by reality. "The spell must have been centered on Angel rather than you, Spike. But since you were standing so close together, it snagged you both. I'll have to up the wattage to bring Angel back." At Spike's frown, Fred leaned closer, pressing her cheek to his shoulder by way of reassurance. "Don't worry. I can do it. It just might take another day or two to set up. I used everything we had to bring you back. I seem to keep doing that." Spike listened to Fred distractedly, hyper aware of Liam hovering near his shoulder, scowling at Fred like a great numpty. Spike wanted to grab him and shake Angel back into existence, anything to end this torture. It couldn't go on, not with one of them returned and one of them still under the spell and that one Angel. His sanity would give way. "I'm fine," Liam assured Wesley when asked if he was feeling any vague symptoms that might herald Angel's return. "Never felt so fit and ready." He slapped a hand on his belly, smiling when Billy's head jerked around at the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Their eyes met setting off sparks of desire almost visible in their intensity. Tugging on Spike's arm to reclaim his attention, Fred smiled wickedly."Come down to the lab with me now and we'll run some tests. Start the wheels turning again. You do remember the tests, don't you?" She giggled at Spike's grimace. Spike had to will himself not to rub his arse at the reminder of his previous trip to the lab for testing. Vision of Liam bent over, trousers lowered beneath his buttocks, sent a flush of heat rushing through his body. Gunn who'd been quiet until then, patted Spike on the back when he heard Fred's suggestion. "Go 'head, man. Don't worry. I'll sit the baby till you get back. Don't want Angel version two wanderin' around on his own. No tellin' what kinda trouble the guy could get into." All eyes turned to Liam, who frowned back at them in confusion. The only part of the conversation he'd taken in was the wren's desire to have Billy at her mercy for a repeat of those hellish "tests". Liam swallowed his rising anger. If she put her hands on Billy's bare butt again, he'd wreck vengeance upon her or know the reason why. Spike saw what Liam was feeling. It glittered angrily in his dark eyes. He had to duck his head to hide the grin that threatened at the Irishman's obvious jealousy. It was something he'd never experienced before. No one had ever cared enough about him to be jealous. He said the first thing that came to mind without thinking what Liam's response might be. "Fine. Let's do it then and get Angel back." "Seems you're damned ready to be done with me, Billy." Liam's brogue thickened as it always did when he was upset. "Go on then. Take yer skinny arse down to be poked and prodded at by the wench, though I'd have thought you'd had your fill of that last night." There was a sharp gasp from someone. It might have been Fred. Then rage exploded white hot through Spike's veins even as his stones shrivel with embarrassment. The meaning of the dig was clear to anyone with ears to listen. If Liam hadn't been human, Spike would have beaten him to the ground for what he'd implied. As it was, he took in the stunned expressions around him and roared, "Fuck you!" at the object of his wrath. He stomped from the room, slamming the apartment door after him, sending a variety of precious objects crashing to the floor. The tinkle of broken glass filled the silence left in his wake. When the door careened back into the wall with a loud bang, everyone jumped. "Boots. Duster," Spike spat out between gritted teeth. Snatching them from the bedroom floor, he strode angrily back to the door. He gave Liam a particularly filthy look. "You comin', Kitten?" Spike never took his eyes off Liam's fiercely scowling face as he grabbed Fred's hand and pulled her after him. Then he was gone in a swirl of black leather. Wesley gazed at Liam with a thoughtful expression. "I do believe you might have kept that remark to yourself. Rather more information than any of us wanted." "If I've a need for yer advice on private matters, I'll ask for it, Long Shanks. Now, get out of here the lot of ya." Liam's exit wasn't quite as dramatic as Spike's had been, but he got his point across with a satisfactory door slamming of his own. "Offer's still good," Gunn commented somewhat subdued by the turn of events. Gunn wondered if he was the only one who'd had no idea what was going on. He'd never thought of either Spike or Angel as being light in the loafers. But, they did always seem to be having some kind of passionate thing going on whenever they were together. And he wasn't gonna let his mind go traveling very far down that road. "Thank you, Charles. He's obviously a loose cannon. I'll assist Fred with the preparations. I believe we'd best get this done as quickly as possible before anything else explosive happens." The trio spent the afternoon working intently on retrieving Angel. Fred and Wesley moved with careful deliberation about their task, neither prepared to face another failure. Spike hovered restlessly between them. After a small blood-letting taken from his arm, his presence was superfluous, but he couldn't bring himself to go back to the penthouse and face Liam. Anger still simmer like poison in his chest. He wanted to make the big man bleed for his petulant taunt. Awareness of small, amused glances being thrown his way by Wesley when he thought Spike wasn't looking, didn't help. The Big Bad's image was taking a bloody pounding. Spike could tell himself it was only Liam's jealousy that had driven him to say such a thing before the others, but it didn't ease his chagrin when Fred's sidelong glances of curiosity ran over his skin like sharp fingernails. In any incarnation, Spike valued Fred. She was his true friend, someone he could count on to listen to his side of things and help. Many the times they'd huddle over a cuppa exchanging war stories or just holding back the night's loneliness for a few more hours. She was someone he could always go to when he was at his lowest, which was a bloody frequent condition for the likes of him. Spike wanted to explain himself to her, but Wesley's presence but the kibosh on such an intimate discussion. Fred's frequent gentle smiles and touches assured him she thought none the less of him for Liam's unexpected revelation. It was a balm to his wounded pride, yet he needed her to know it wasn't a general kind of thing. He didn't go fucking around with any likely lad that crossed his path. It was something specific between him and Angel....Liam. It always had been. It was almost dinner time before they broke for the evening, everyone too tired and stressed out to continue. Spike rode back in the elevator alone, though both Fred and Wesley had offered to go along and smooth the way. He felt this was one discussion where privacy was mandatory. When the elevator door slid open, a tingle of alarm ran up Spike's spine. He couldn't have said what it was, except the strange stillness seemed to make his ears ring. He sniffed the air and felt his gut clutch with fear. The smell of blood saturated the silent hallway. Before he was able to command his brain to act, he was rushing down the corridor, the sound of his boots echoing hollowly in his ears. He burst through the door into an abattoir. There was blood everywhere. The penthouse told its story in broad splashes of crimson. The smashed furniture, the floors, the walls were painted with it, as was Gunn, an unmoving heap on the kitchen floor surrounded by a scarlet spill. The air was thick as syrup. Spike's nostrils flared as he breathed it in. Some of the tantalizing miasma was from the unconscious man, but the vast amount was ripe with Liam's scent. Frantically, Spike searched the apartment, but there was no trace of the Irishman only the aroma of his life's blood permeating the silence.