'Yeah, uh...that's it...right...ah, there.' Angel grinned and pressed his thumb harder against Spike's neck, feeling the tension slowly drain from the supine body. There was still a faint tang of strawberries in the air, and Angel couldn't help thinking of Spring and the way his house in Galway had smelt. His mother - ordering them all about with unusual authority, his father edging toward him, bothered by the woman at the helm. That had been one of the few times when they'd sided together, desperate to get out of her cleaning ritual, boys as they hid in the garden. There was the barest hint of blossom on the branches, fluttering onto their clothes as they pushed through them. Giggling as clothes caught and tore, at the knowledge that they would have to go inside sooner or later, that she would know and they'd be scolded both for avoiding work and making more of it. And his father smiling, the pressure off for the moment as his son struggled to get through the tangled bushes; tall, gangly, not yet filled out into his broad frame. And nothing had mattered then, tomorrow was just the day that followed, another time which did not yet exist. It wasn't important, there was only ever the now, and the belief that everything would be all right. And that he had time to change into the son his father wanted so badly to mould. Father, you would not have believed what I have become. I didn't understand, I didn't know what you were trying to do, or why you were so bad at it. I was young and I was ignorant, but I wasn't stupid, I could have been told. You could have talked to me. You could have trusted me. '...left a bit...' He shifted lightly, moving his fingers across the supple flesh, feeling Spike wriggle as Angel hit the right spot. '...lovely...' Angel smiled, and allowed himself to slip back again. There had never been a time whilst he was alive that Liam had managed to understand his father, or a single moment when his father had understood him. And that had mattered, of course it had mattered, because Liam had tried for so long to be the man his father wanted him to be, and on failing that, became the exact opposite. In this world, in this temperate climate, his rebellion would have been dismissed, understood, but dismissed as a child seeking their own identity. And maybe they might have commented, '27 is too old to still be rebelling against your father'. Twenty seven too old? Here I am in my bed with the man I love, killer of many, childe of my progeny. And you would never have approved of this. Incest, lust and desire for my own sex. How could you possibly understand, when anything I did then was considered a sin? How could you understand that this is the purest I have ever been, the best incarnation of myself that I have ever approached. Would you see that? Or would you still be blind to the son you raised? Would you consider my love frivolous, or would you accept that I've finally found my place in the world? Spike rolled over, raising a casual eyebrow at him, completely at ease with his own nudity. Smiling faintly, Angel traced his sight down the pale flesh, following the solid line of his shoulders, the more prominent muscles...firm under his fingers, moist skin allowing him to slide down without ever sticking. Perfect, and...a scar here, still perfect, the bones of his shoulder's beneath the surface...hard, tangled in muscle...the veins - light blue against faint marble...frailty in strength... 'You gonna feel me up all day, Peaches or are we actually going to see some action here?' Angel shook his head. 'You've got a real way of spoiling the mood, Spike.' 'Mood? What bloody mood?' 'The one where you were getting a massage and I was actually...no, it doesn't matter.' 'What?' Angel took his hands off and reached for the towel. 'I was actually thinking how beautiful you were.' And there's another raised eyebrow. 'Yeah, I'm Miss Bloody World.' Angel grinned. 'Apt, very apt.' 'Hmm?' Spike rolled over and stretched out, his fingers reaching the edge of the bed, touching on the crisp lines where the sheet folded under the mattress. He'd spent an instructive hour once, sipping whiskey whilst Angel had made the bed. No one else could waste so much bloody time making sure the corners were perfect. Nobody else would bloody care! But Angel liked order, and if it made him a bit anal at times, so be it. It only took Spike a minute or so to make him human again. 'So how come my "delicate beauty" is making it's big debut in whatever it is that passes for your brain?' Angel rolled his eyes and picked up the towel he'd brought in earlier. 'Feeling nostalgic.' 'For beauty contests?' The dark vampire thwacked the heavy towel across Spike's ass and jumped backwards off the bed before the howling creature could get his revenge. But Spike was on his feet almost immediately, and jumped full-stretch towards Angel, bringing them both down to the floor in an inelegant pile. He wrestled Angel's arms above his head, and aimed gentle nips across the broad chest, grinning at each yelp. Spike made his way to the protesting mouth, covering it with his own, and Angel kissed him without missing a beat. Hands slipping from the restricting grip, sliding down to hold the firm body against his own, feeling the strength in the torso, the vague warmth from the recently fed. Legs slipping between his own, and Angel moaned at the pressure against his thigh. And still the tongue pressed insistently into his mouth, tasting him, searing ownership with every brush. And the cold didn't matter beneath his back, the harshness of the floorboards unimportant compared to this seemingly unending barrage of pleasure, neatly compacted in an aggressive blond. And there was still boyish pleasure in living in the moment, still a desire to make this minute the only point of focus. And there was always room for change. Father, you could never understand this. Brring! Spike growled as Angel ceased his caresses, unwilling to stop for anything, least of all a phone call which would, in all likelihood, separate them for far too many hours. Only clients phoned at this hour, and Angel never turned any away. He struggled to keep Angel's attention, but the dark vampire suckled gently on his tongue before easing him off and reaching for the ringing phone. 'Hello?' 'Where the hell have you been?' Angel pulled the phone away from his ear, as though backing off could eliminate Cordelia's screeching tone. He sat there for a moment, dangling it uncertainly in his hand, hoping that Spike would tire of his delaying tactics and draw it off him. But the blond had already got back on the bed, drizzled oil into his hand and was sliding slick fingers down his body. Coating every muscle in the gleaming fluid, determined not to wait out a phone call for his pleasure. 'Oh...' 'Don't you "oh" me, you stupid great...employer person you! We've actually been worried about you.' Angel bit his lip as he met Spike's eyes, reading the carnal intent, wanting desperately to be a part of it. But Cordelia was still babbling. 'Don't you ever call back when you say you're gonna? Man, you actually had Xander worried for a moment.' The "did not" echoed in the background, but Angel was scarcely paying attention - Spike had reached the fluffy hair across his belly, and was slowly edging towards the stiffer curls below. 'Angel? Are you even listening to me?' And lower still. 'Sorry, what was that Cordelia?' 'You're not listening are you? Oh God, don't say you and he are being all...groiny.' And...yeah, oh yeah, I want to touch. Spike grinned at him and Angel had to force himself not to drool. It would be too easy to just throw the phone away and leap on the vampire. Too satisfying to just ignore everything else and find himself within Spike's embrace. But Angel had spent a whole lifetime in denial and... 'Cordelia, I'm sorry I didn't let you know we were okay. Things kind of...got on top of me.' 'Oh I bet! And that thing wouldn't be called Spike, king of bad seventies porn, now would it?' Spike's hand slipped below the stiff length, altering his position so that Angel could see him caress the sensitive globes beneath. And when the younger vampire moaned, he wasn't alone. 'Angel, quit moaning, I don't want to have to deal with your sex noises as well!' Angel frowned. As well? 'Look, we're okay, Vanessa Brewer's been...dealt with, and Megan...' He paused, trying to remember what he'd agreed with Spike to tell them. The girl was gone, completely gone, but he still owed the others an explanation. He still owed Wesley...something. Stick to something simple. 'She's gone.' 'Huh? Ghost girl's seen the light?' He heard Spike chuckle, gestured to the vampire to be quiet. And then he saw him, saw the fingers squeezing his balls, and the guilt faded back into the background. Here and now is all that matters. What's gone is gone and we can't change that. 'Yeah, she's gone. She...saw Lindsay, got something off her chest and that was it.' 'Wow, quick as that, huh. God, I wish we'd figured it out that quickly when Dennis' mom was on the rampage.' Spike slid a finger lower, deep between the curve of his ass cheeks, letting out a deep 'huuuh' as he gained entrance. Angel watched and shifted closer to the bed, watching, wanting to be a part of it. He stroked along Spike's thigh as he talked. 'Yeah, so...Cordelia, is that it? Are we done here?' She huffed. Okay Angel I can take a hint. Just because someone's getting some doesn't mean you have to rub the noses of...the people who...aren't...getting some, that is.' Spike grinned. 'Very eloquent when she's horny, ain't she?' Angel ran his fingers along Spike's own hands, coating them in oil, sliding a digit inside as Spike groaned, sliding it back and forth. 'Very,' he said. 'Huh? Angel, you're speaking in tongues again.' I wish, he thought. 'Look Cordelia, I'm really busy. Can we talk...Monday, or anytime I'm not sleeping?' 'Fine, fine. Xander promised me an all expenses paid shopping trip anyway.' Angel raised an eyebrow, feeling his finger slide easily past the tight muscle, Spike's own digit curling round it. 'Xander's paying? On what he makes?' 'Yeah, well, he offered and I'm hardly going to turn him down, now, am I?' 'They're shagging, again,' murmured Spike, and Angel pushed forward before the vampire could say anything more incriminating. 'Okay, I have to go, so I'll see you Monday.' 'Kay, I'll see you then, perv boy. Maybe when you can drag your head out of the gutter you might say something approaching human conversation.' She hung up and Angel tossed the phone to the floor, before urging Spike onto his front. Drawing all fingers out of the way, Angel bent his head, long slow licks from under the heavy balls up and into Spike's body. 'Everything dealt with now, Pet?' 'Mhmm.' Spike grinned against the mattress as the moist tongue pushed against him. Angel was the expert here - Angellus had never been all that concerned about preparing his conquests. But whilst the soulless version had never indulged in foreplay, Angel revelled in it. He could happily spend hours lavishing attention on his lover, attending to every need, every desire that Spike could express. And it usually involved just about everything in the fridge and anything else the blond happened to land on. 'Still mooching in the past?' Angel paused and slid his hands up, reaching for Spike's own. 'I'm happy being in the present.' The younger vampire chuckled and rolled over, pulling Angel up to cover him. 'Sure about that, Love? Cause I keep feeling you coming over all Owen.' 'Owen?' 'Wilfred. Got maudlin and unhappy about life instead of enjoying what he had.' Angel nuzzled against Spike's cheek and grinned. 'He was fighting a war. Humans tend to get a little distracted by that kind of thing.' Spike rubbed against the dark vampire and tried to capture his mouth. 'Whereas we just look for the easy meal.' Angel shook his head and pulled back. 'I think I was neck-deep in self-pity and guilt by that time.' 'So no real change, then?' 'Spike, shut up.' The blond grinned and reached round to pinch Angel's ass. 'Ow!' 'Well, Pet. If you wouldn't go and ask the impossible of me...' Angel knelt up and rubbed the sore spot, trying hard to cast a children-will-play look at his lover. Spike wasn't buying it at all, and slung both hands behind his neck, presenting an irresistible pose - all exposed flesh, glistening and ready for action. Bait. But Angel hesitated and Spike had to resign himself that the fish weren't biting without a major soul search first. Best to get it over with, then. 'Come on then, tell me.' Angel shook his head and bent down to kiss him, hurt when Spike accepted him but refused to deepen the embrace. He met the cold blue eyes and realised nothing was going to happen until he let go...until he managed to get some of rid of this nagging doubt. With a sigh, he rolled onto his side and rested his arm across Spike's belly, one hand tucked behind his ear, supporting his head. As he idly traced patterns across the pale skin, he tried to think how to begin. It's always hard to start, he thought absently, but after that first step...doesn't the relief of being on the path outweigh knowing it's never going to get easier? 'Come on. Spill.' 'I was...thinking about my father.' Spike frowned. 'Why? He lay in your bed naked an' all?' 'Hmm? No, no, he wasn't like that. I was just...family, you know?' Spike shrugged. 'Not seeing the link here, Pet.' Angel avoided Spike's gaze. 'You said she wasn't family...and if she isn't...then...' Spike rubbed his nose and Angel saw that he wasn't getting his point across. Usually Spike would have picked up on whatever was troubling him and found a way to distract him, or even, (when nothing else had worked) given him an honest opinion. The truth was often harsh, but knowing it was so much better than living with the lie. 'I lost my family once...' 'Well, you ate them, Love. Losing tends to be a part of that.' Angel winced. 'Right. But...before that, I was already...dead to them.' Spike raised a scarred eyebrow. 'Got kicked out? You?' 'Yeah, me. I was...never that good at taking orders.' 'Hmm, I had noticed. What with you being the anti-vampire and everything.' Angel decided not to point out that since Spike was actually helping him these days, he came under the same category. It wasn't important, and if he didn't manage to make his point clear now, Spike could just as easily get fed up and convince him to have sex until it went away. But then, he'd always wonder, and there might not be another time he would be able to ask. 'You said she wasn't family.' 'And?' Angel took a breath he didn't need and pressed on. Strange how the simple act of inhaling gave him courage. 'And if she's not your family...are we?' Spike ran his tongue along his teeth before answering. 'Sure, you're Dad, Cordelia's mum and Wesley and Doyle are the kids.' 'Spike...that's not what I mean...who's Xander?' 'Milkman's spawn.' Angel couldn't help the tiniest of grins. 'And you?' Spike grinned and reached for his cigarettes. 'Easy, mate, I'm the dodgy uncle whose shagging the dad.' Angel shook his head. 'You don't want to answer, do you?' Spike lit up and waved the point at his lover. 'You ask me if I think about your bloody lot as family and want me to say yes or no. It's not that fucking easy.' 'I thought things were always simple to you?' 'Most things...yeah. But family. You don't want to get hooked on having one of them, mate. They can screw you up good style.' He gestured vaguely with the lit end. 'Look at you, two and a half centuries later and I bet you're still wondering if Daddy would approve.' Angel relented. 'Maybe a little.' 'Exactly. All families can do is piss you off.' He inhaled deeply, the smoke coating lungs which were in no danger of becoming cancerous. Angel felt the tension build in the solid frame and slid his fingers up to hold Spike closer. 'I take it your family weren't the Bradys either?' Spike stubbed out the cig furiously and turned back to Angel. 'Doesn't matter what they were. I don't think of them from one day to the next. They're dead.' 'They don't matter?' 'No.' And before Angel had the chance to turn away, Spike caught his neck and pulled him close enough that their noses touched. 'You're mine. You lot are all mine. And it's us against the world, Pet.' He smiled easily. 'And I'm not giving that up for any fucker who wears my name.' Angel chuckled. 'She didn't actually have your name.' 'Shh, love. You're ruining a good allegory.' The older vampire leant backwards and pulled Spike over on top of him. 'Hmm, now how can I make up for that?' 'Got one or two ideas.' 'Yeah?' 'Yeah.' And Spike's kiss, tainted with nicotine and whiskey, all male, all encompassing, was enough to drive away the doubt. Each touch of his fingers sought to echo his ownership, brushing across his flesh, passion driving them to closer, more intimate places. Only here mattered, only now, and he growled as he sank in the firm body, clinging to Spike, whispering promises that he'd make sure he kept. And it was always heaven now, always the moment, and when the change came, they'd cope. Because whilst perfection is fleeting, Angel's memory had scanned centuries. And each moment of truth was his forever. And belonging to Spike was something he could believe in. Father, I am not the son you wanted. I am the man I was meant to be. *
'.....the bed is open; the toothbrush hangs on the wall, put your shoes at the door, sleep, prepare for life.' Wesley looked up toward Angel and closed the book. 'The last twist of the knife.' Spike puffed out the last of his cigarette and leaned over to Doyle. 'Does he get all this suicide poetry crap along with his Watcher's guide?' 'I don't know. He said it was fitting.' Spike grinned at the obvious affection the Irishman had for Wesley. He could become such a softy when anyone threatened to hurt the sentimental man's feelings - something Spike had been quick to exploit for his own amusement. On arrival this evening, he'd walked straight over to them both, sniffed dramatically, then slapped them both on the back and asked if they were up for a foursome. Whilst Wesley tried to get the red flush under control, Doyle had passed Spike a tumbler full of whiskey and ushered him toward the kitchen. As distraction strategies went, it wasn't all that subtle, but the motives behind it led to a well seasoned torture method for Spike. He revelled in the discomfort of the pair, especially when it seemed that they were all too comfortable alone together. In Cordelia's company, they edged apart, careful not to hurt her feelings by being overly affectionate. Even if the affection could well have been a mannish slap across the shoulders. He'd seen them in private, noted the hesitation on both parts over what was and what wasn't appropriate. In some ways it was worse for Doyle - Wesley had a lifetime of trying to conform to back up his hesitation, but Doyle was half a demon, and didn't really have any comparisons to make. He'd never known his father, and the brief time he'd had with his fellow Brachen hadn't been long enough to establish sexual habits. He was starting from scratch, making it up as he went along, and from what Spike could see, it ranged somewhere between desperate desire and frustrated masculinity. He could understand it, almost. For Spike, denying yourself came somewhere below impaling yourself on the nearest stake. It just didn't work for him - if you want something get it. Otherwise Angel broodiness awaits, and he was fairly certain that going down that path would send him stake-bound. But, he had to admit that he had denied himself - human blood was no longer soup-de-jour for a different reason than the chip in his head. As Doyle grinned amiably at Wesley and reached for the good whiskey, Spike noticed that his lover was refusing to meet the ex-watcher's eye. For a moment, he couldn't understand why, then realisation dawned with an unceremonious plop into his head. The stupid great bloody vampire was still feeling guilty about letting Faith break the girl's neck. And Wesley was actually letting him, keeping the one thing Angel desired, (besides hot sex and for some reason lately, Judge Judy) forgiveness, away from him. Well it was bloody well going to stop, now. He felt the hand on his wrist and whirled, forgetting for a moment that Cordelia was there. She raised a well plucked eyebrow and gestured toward the miniature kitchen. Intrigued, and aware that he hadn't figured out a way to stop Angel's penance gig, Spike sauntered casually after her, leaning against the only cupboard door that wasn't broken. Xander looked up at him, fist full of chips, chewing away, but slightly surprised to see him. He gestured to Cordelia. 'What did you bring him for? Like psycho Bob here can actually help.' Spike slugged back the tumbler and reached for his cigarettes. 'You know, I've suddenly remembered why I never wanted to bite you.' Xander blinked. 'Huh?' 'All that cholesterol. Gets in my bloody gut and gives me belly ache.' He waved the end of his cigarette to Cordelia. 'Good tip, pet, never eat anything that's unhealthier than you.' 'I'll try and keep that in mind, in my totally non-gross eating habits.' Xander looked affronted. 'Hey, I'm healthy.' 'Sure you are. And I've started drinking holy water as light refreshment.' 'I'm healthy,' said Xander, before something occurred to him, 'healthier than someone who's dead, anyway.' 'Saw blokes drop dead by the time they were thirty, eating the way you do,' grinned Spike. 'one minute it's all bread and butter pudding, the next...' He blew a raspberry and gave the big thumbs down sign. Cordelia slapped her hand across Xander's mouth before he could make any more protest and nodded to Spike. 'You idiots want to do some male bonding, fine. But I'm not staying to watch.' There was a muffled 'wouldn't bond with him...ever' from behind her hand and Spike chuckled. 'Oh I don't know, we could give that whole bonding Xander thing a go...as long as we keep that mouth taped shut.' He winked. 'Or I could find something to fill it.' 'Okay, before you completely gross me out...no, wait, you've done that from the day you walked into Angel's apartment.' Spike tapped out the ash on the work-surface. 'Get on with it.' She sniffed and took her hand away from Xander's mouth, wiping it on one of Wesley's immaculately folded towels. 'You haven't been in the office this week.' 'And that's a problem for you?' He wiggled his eyebrows at her. 'Always knew you had taste buried somewhere deep.' 'Will you just quit it! I'm talking about some major damage in the office!' Demons? Lawyers? Or worse - Cordelia had started making the coffee again? 'What damage?' Xander gestured to the other room. 'Tension between Angel and Wesley like you wouldn't believe.' Not so sure about that, mate. 'And no-one knows why,' continued Cordelia, 'it's just making Wesley grumpy and Angel...grumpier. It's so bad I actually cleaned the bathroom with Xander just to get away from them both.' She stepped closer to him. 'Can you imagine that? I have never and I really mean , never cleaned a public bathroom in my life.' Xander nodded sagely. 'It's all true. Which is why all the taps are stained and there's a charge for industrial strength rubber gloves on the petty cash board.' Cordelia glared at him. 'Shutting up, now.' She nodded and turned back to Spike. 'You've got to do something. I can't do that again. I smell of bleach...and something else I don't even know the name of. You have to sort them out.' Spike reached into his pocket and drew out another pack of cigarettes. 'You're actually asking me for help?' Xander shrugged. 'Much as I really wish I wasn't saying this, yeah, that's exactly what we're saying.' Spike closed his eyes a second to revel in the moment. It wasn't exactly the feeling of being useful - that smacked too much of obedient servant - but the idea of someone needing him always gave him a grin, intensified to about one hundred if it was Angel. But this - humans needing his help because they couldn't make kid A talk to kid B...ah, there was nothing quite like it. He opened his eyes again. 'So what's in it for me?' 'What?' Spike nodded to Xander. 'If I sort out your little problem, what's in it for me?' 'Excuse me? He's your boyfriend...partner...whatever. You should be paying us for bringing it to your attention.' Xander winced and nudged her. 'Oh like that's the way to get merciless killer boy on our side.' She shrugged him off. 'Whatever. What I do know is that both Wesley and Angel are world class brooders. They're never going to sort this out themselves and I can't stay in the office whilst they talk so damned polite at each other.' Spike inhaled and smiled amiably at them both. Kids, the both of them - Sunnydale trained, so more observant than most, but still kids all the same. Between the pair of them they only had thirty six years, and that wasn't nearly enough time to learn about all the nuances in any kind of relationship. Hell, he'd had a lifetime or two, and although he was far better at working the problem out than any other bugger he knew, there were some things that even stumped him. Not that he was admitting that or anything, just that as a life (and death) observer of human traits, some stuff still surprised him. He'd never expected this, for example - Wesley abandoning the one man he admired, because of a girl. And even then, that wasn't the whole problem. One the one hand, you had a man whose father had bullied and tormented him until he followed the right path. On the other hand you had a man whose father...okay, so just a little too similar there. How about one of the men had managed to change, and the other saw him as such a great example of what could be achieved with belief. And then the idol fell, allowing something almost unspeakable to happen, unable really to prevent it. But instead of being heavy with remorse, Angel had been overcome with relief that his own lover was still alive. And Spike still wasn't sure if it was because Angel hadn't cared that she was dead, or that he had rated Wesley's needs below his own. If you put someone on a pedestal, they will fall, everyone knew that. Wasn't a part of it a sharing of guilt - Angel for not saving her, and Wesley for failing Faith...for causing this whole mess. He shook his head, smoke billowing over his clothes. If it had been him, he would have shrugged it off. It happened, life can sometimes be complete crap and if you brooded about it...back to stakes again. Best thing he could do now, aside from make the two obstinate gits sort it out, was to milk these kids for as much as he could get. He had a reputation to think of after all. It wouldn't do for William the Bloody to be handing out the goodies free of charge. 'Right. If I sort this out for you, what are you going to do for me?' Cordelia and Xander exchanged glances. 'I'll...buy your magazines for a whole month,' offered Cordelia. 'I'm not doing the sex thing.' 'Two months,' said Spike, 'and I want you to get everything on my shopping list.' 'And there's to be no kind of tying up of Xander, or...' 'Shopping list? Are we talking stuff for you and Angel, or are you finally going to try on clothes from this century?' '...definitely not watching or calling me puppydog. And I'm...' 'And no insulting the togs, pet. You have to be nice to me.' 'Nice? To you?' She paused and seemed to think about it. 'Three months worth of shopping and magazines and I still get to keep my fashion sense.' '...no accidentally walking in on me when I'm showering...' Spike puffed out the last of his cigarette and grinned. 'Right, love. Done.' Xander seemed to be counting something off on his fingers. '...and no trying to get me to call you Daddy.' 'Okay,' said Cordelia. 'Now go fix. I'm tired of living with Angel squared.' Spike nodded and threw his lighter at Xander. The heavy metal box bounced of the boy's forehead and he looked up, a stunned rabbit-in-the-headlights expression fixed on his face. 'What? What was that?' He looked at the bemused expression on Spike's face and gulped before turning to Cordelia. 'You've sold me to him to get everything back to normal, haven't you?' She rolled her eyes. 'Dream on, paranoid boy. You've seen Angel, right? Why on Earth would he want you?' Spike chuckled and walked to the door as Xander desperately tried to think of a good comeback. There was something woefully pitiful about his face, contorting into different shapes as his brain searched for anything that would keep score with Cordelia. Apparently nothing was leaping up, and the grin on Cordelia's face was growing bigger by the second. Spike looked back just before he closed the door behind him, winking at the hapless Xander. Some days...you just had to throw the chattel a bone. 'Oh I don't know, love...I'd take his ass over yours any day.' With the blissful indignation on Cordelia's face, he shut the door and looked over to the couch, where Angel and Wesley were busy not speaking to each other whilst Doyle struggled to keep some noise in the air. And although he was Irish, the poor sod looked as though he was talked out. Blarney Stone given up, eh, thought Spike as he braced himself to make the irritating bastards talk to each other. As Angel looked up at him, angst mode set to extra high, Spike snorted and reached for the whiskey. 'Bloody wakes depress the hell out of me.' They turned to him and he grinned before downing his drink. 'Right then, Irish. Let's see your lot teach me how to have fun.'