Spike heard the door open and moved closer to Xander; pulling the sheet up and throwing his leg and arm across the sleeping youth.

"Spike." Angel's voice was calm and patient.

Always so fucking *patient*, Spike thought, peeved.

"Yeah?"

"We're pretty sure we know where the Bleathvores are holed up. It's after sunset. *Well* after sunset. We should get going."

Spike grunted. He moved even closer to Xander. "What say *you* go make sure they're really there? Come back and get me when you've pinned 'em down."

"Spike." Angel said, still all calm and patient.

"Effin poof." Spike muttered.

"Spike. Let's go."

Spike growled, low in his throat. Xander murmured and moved closer to the vampire, seeking to soothe and calm, even in his sleep. Spike grinned and petted the soft dark hair atop Xander's head.

"Spike. We have to go."

Spike muttered an expletive beneath his breath and reached out to shake Xander awake.

"You don't have to disturb Xander, Spike, let him sleep."

Spike turned disbelieving eyes to his Sire. "Yes, I *do* have to 'disturb' Xander! I have to bloody well wake his ass up and tell him I'm leaving and that I'll be back! *You* may think it's fine and dandy to leave without so much as a 'piss off', but I *know* you don't do that!" Spike shook Xander's shoulder a little more roughly than necessary.

"What? Shit! What?" Xander blinked, scowling. Spike grinned down at him. "You!" Xander muttered sleepily.

Spike grinned wider, rolling his eyes. "Yes, *me*. This is a tough concept for you to grasp, eh, Xander? Me Spike, you-"

"Xander!" Xander finished. He giggled and sank under the sheet. "Spike?"

"What is it, pet?"

"About waking you up?"

"What about it?"

"I offer a *full* apology. It was cruel. Wrong! Terribly *wrong* of me. I see the error of my ways. Now, le'me'lone. Sleepy. Sleep now."

Angel watched, as Spike's grin grew even wider. His eyebrows rose and then fell to a scowl. He coughed.

"You gettin' sick, Spike? That sounds nasty. Do vamps *get* sick?" Xander asked, his words slurred with sleepiness.

"I'm fine, pet. Does sound nasty though, I'll admit. Sounds like Angel."

The sheet over Xander's head puffed up as Xander chuckled. "It did!"

"That's cause he's here. Come to take me off to the fight the Bleathvores, Xanpet. Now give us a kiss goodbye."

Xander yanked the sheet down with both hands. "What? All ready?" Xander looked over at Angel. He pulled the sheet up to his chin. "Really?"

Spike nodded. He rose from the bed, naked, looking for his pants. "Where'd you toss my denims to, Xander?"

Xander pointed across the room. "That way I think."

Angel walked across the room, retrieving Spikes trousers and handing them to his unconcernedly naked childe.

"Give 'em here!" Spike snatched them away from Angel, sitting on the bed to shove his legs in; he stood, pulling them up and over his naked ass. Xander grinned at the pretty ass before it was hidden behind the faded denim. "My boots?"

Xander rolled over and picked up the battered Doc Marten boots. "Here." Spike took them from Xander, leaning down to place a kiss on Xander's forehead. "Thanks." He sat back down, shoving his feet in his boots and buckling them tight. Spike stomped his feet against the floor. "Right, then." He stood, picking up his shirt and heading towards the door.

"Hey!"

Spike turned back at Xander's shout. "What about, um, your, ah, goodbye kiss?" Xander asked, feeling silly and needy for asking in front of Angel but needing to ask anyway.

Spike winked at him, pulling the door open. He then waggled his eyebrows, causing Xander to smile and bite back a giggle. "You can kiss me 'hello' when I get back. Get some sleep, Xander. You won't get much when I get back." Spike promised, leading Angel out of the room and closing the door.

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

"What is it, exactly, you are doing with Xander?" Angel asked.

Spike kicked at a rat, sending it flying several yards. He watched it land in a puddle of stagnant water with a grin. His eyes widened and he gave a whistle through his teeth when the thing picked itself up and scurried away. "Tough rats you have down here, Angel. They bite?"

They continued walking along the sewer tunnel, heading for what was, hopefully, a din of Bleathvores and their stockpile of pilfered treasures.

Spike kicked another rat.

"Stop that!"

Spike's head shot up and he grinned at Angel. "Oh. Right. You may want to eat him later, eh?"

"What are you doing with Xander?" Angel asked again.

"What are you doing with the beauty queen and the not-a-watcher-anymore, watcher?"

"Nothing! They work for me! I'm not do-"

"Yeah, well, that's not my problem, is it? Not my fault. Not my *business* either, is it?"

Angel sighed. "I've always liked Xander, Spike. Despite his dislike of me, I feel, well, *protective* towards him."

Spike snorted.

Angel kicked the rat that was about to run across his shoe. The poor thing was sent speeding through the air, landing hard enough against the wall that its back was broken upon impact.

Spike crushed its head when he reached it.

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"Dammit, Spike! What the fuck are you doing with Xander?"

Spike snickered. He meant to, at least, but before he could get a good "snick" out, Angel had a hand wrapped around his throat and was holding him against the slimy wall of the sewer tunnel. Spike's hands came up to wrap around Angel's, trying to loosen his Sire's hold.

"*What.*" Squeeze. "Are." Squeeze. "You." Squeeze. "Doing." Squeeze. "With." Squeeze. "*Xander*?" Squeeze and hold.

Spike gasped and mouthed something. Angel came closer to hear what Spike has was saying. Spike kneed him in the groin, catching Angel off guard. He brought his hands up to push his Sire away, sending the older vampire against the far wall. Angel snarled and came at Spike, murder in his dark eyes. Spike grinned, bending low for the impact.

It didn't come.

Instead, there was a "foump" sound and both vampires fell to the damp floor, covered in a heavy net.

Shuffling footsteps and non-human chatter followed. Spike was prodded with something wet. Something wet and slimy that had a sucker on the end. When the sucker was pulled away from his cheek with an audible "pop", Spike could feel the stinging welt as it rose on his face. "Bleathvores." He groaned and reached out his hand, feeling for Angel. Once he connected with his Sire 's overly gelled head, he punched it. "This is all *your* fault!" He hissed.

"No it's *not*! It's-" Angel didn't continue.

A hard crack over each of the vampire's heads stopped any further bickering for the moment.

It was a blessing for them both that they were out as they were dragged the rest of the way through the sewer tunnels and into the Bleathvore's nest.

They would have been heartbroken to note what was happening to their leather.

*****
Part 9:

Spike moaned, coming to. He pulled his duster from beneath him and laid the tails across his legs, letting the damp sink through his jeans. He focused on the tares and smears of god only knew *what* fouling his most treasured possession. He ignored the pain in and the lump on his head. "Ah, sod it all! Would you *look* at my coat?"

Angel grunted, sitting up and holding his head. "Your *coat*? What about my hair?" He ran his hands over it; they came away sticky with *slime*. He shuddered, wiping his hands on Spike's jeans. He looked down at his pants, torn and covered in filth. "Oh, shit! Look at me!" He decided not to look at his leather jacket; he didn't want to know.

"Yer jacket is torn to shreds, Angel." Spike told him. "Cheap leather. Must be from this decade."

Angel groaned, still not looking, and sure Spike was exaggerating. The brat.

Spike looked around. It was dark, damp, smelly, and piled high with junk and rotting garbage; Bleathvore din for sure. They were in a cage, their backs resting against what seemed to be old carpet nailed over even older wood nailed together in a V and turned upside down making a back rest, if not a whole chair. The damp, mucky floor served as the seat. A rather large cage, considering stingy, money-grubbing traders were holding them. Bleathvores were *not* known for their penchant for extras. Spike was sure the cage must have already been here. He reached out to grab one of the bars of the cage that held them.

ZAP!

"Shit!" Spike pulled his hand back quickly, sucking at his electrocuted fingers. "I *hate* it when old time demons mess around with technology." He muttered around his burnt fingers. "They don't know what they're *doing*! One of 'em is gonna take a piss and 'zap' we're fried!"

Angel was quite, taking in their surroundings. He could hear the demons, not more than a hundred yards away, chattering in an incomprehensible-to him, at least-language. He studied each pile of junk surrounding them. He nudged Spike with his elbow, and pointed. "*That's* what we want."

"An old wig? Nice. That's just what I would have *thought* could save the slayer."

Angel ignored the snide comment. "See the clay bowl? With the Je'dellian writings?"

Spike looked at the junk heap. "Yes, I do. I see *lots* of old bowls. That must be the cookware and wig pile. And old trouser pile. Oh, yes, and what's that? Plain ole rotten *garbage*! No! Wait! Have I spied with my little eye an old tin of *tuna*?! Have I?"

"You're not helping Spike."

"No. I'm *not* helping, am I? And why is that, do you suppose? Maybe because I'm trapped in an electrified cage being held by bloody Bleathvores in the bloody bowels of Los Angels with my bloody poof of a Sire? Do you think that could bloody well be the cause of me not *helping*? Eh? Do ya?"

"Could be, but I doubt it. I think you're just ornery."

"Angel?" Spike moved closer to his Sire.

"What?" Angel wrapped his arm around his childe and pulled him closer, unconsciously offering comfort to his bratty childe.

"Can you even begin to *imagine* how much Bleathvores *don't* know about electricity?" Spike asked, leaning his head against Angel's shoulder, unconcerned about what it looked like or what it meant. He would not deny that sometimes his big poof of a Sire was, well, *comforting* to have around. He would never *admit* it, but he wouldn't deny it.

"We'll be fine, Spike." Angel told him, keeping his eye on the Je'dellian bowl."

A tentacle was thrust into the cage, catching Spike across the mouth, and pulling him towards the back of the cage. He opened wide and bit down. His reward was a face full of venom and a piece of Bleathvore. He spit out the Bleathvore before he passed out.

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

"They really are a very interesting group. Been around for centuries. Traders and collectors, really, nothing more. Always looking for a deal. Amazing that they haven't been eradicated, seeing as how they haven't a very well developed intellect."

"You think? Cockroaches don't seem to do well on the SAT's but we still have *those* Wes."

Wesley smiled, placing the papers Giles had faxed to them on the table. "You are right, Cordelia. Sometimes intellect is not needed for survival."

Xander came into the room. "What's up?"

"Case in point!" Cordy offered, holding out her hand towards Xander.

Wesley smiled at Xander. "All rested up?"

Xander blushed and smiled. "Yes. So? Where are they? They check in yet? Can I get something to eat?"

"Don't know. No. And yes, we have some Chinese food in the kitchen. Sit down and I'll bring it out. You and Spike, huh? What's up with that? I dump you and you can never have another woman again? Not even a human?" Cordy asked. The idea pleased her. She grinned to herself as she went into the kitchen to retrieve the boxes of left over food.

Xander sat down next to Wesley. "How long have they been gone?"

"A few hours. I'm sure everything is fine."

Xander smiled at Cordelia once she placed a tray of take-out boxes and a soda in front of him. He began to eat. "How long did they say they'd be gone?"

Cordy sat down and crossed her legs. "Angel never says. Who's to know?"

"Where'd they say they were going?" Xander asked, slurping up hot and spicy noodles.

"Oh well, into the tunnels." Wesley offered.

Xander nodded. "Yeah. "*Where* into the tunnels? *What* tunnels?"

Wesley shuffled through the papers on the coffee table.

Xander couldn't believe Angel had purchased a *coffee table* before a TV.

"Well! It looks like Angel took the information with him. Never mind. I'm sure they're perfectly fine."

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

Spike came to with a pain-filled moan. His face felt sore and five sizes too big. He reached his hands up, discovering it was only his lips. And they were only *two* sizes too big. Maybe three. They throbbed with pain from the Bleathvore venom and his teeth *ached*. He looked over at Angel, taking in the sucker shaped marks covering his face. The welts were small, swollen and bright red. Spike giggled, wincing as his lips stretched.

Angel quickly turned his head to look at his childe. "Are you okay?"

"Doe'no. Do I look as bad as you?" Spike reached out a hand to run over Angel's marred face. "Hope I don't. 'Cause you look bloody awful, Sire."

Angel grunted and pushed Spike's hand away. "I'm sure you look *much* worse than I do. *I* don't look like Barbara Hershey in BEACHES."

Spike's hands flew back to his lips. "Hell! *That* big?" He nudged his Sire. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"What's the plan? Get us out of here!" He twisted around, looking for the Bleathvores. "Where the bloody hell have they gone off to?" Spike turned back to Angel. "So do it. Make with the batvamp stuff and get us *out* of here."

Angel smiled at Spike. "And you mocked my so called 'batvamp stuff'. *Now* you want me to sprout wings and fly us out of here." Angel shook his head.

"Angel!" Spike hissed. "This is *no* time to find your long lost humor! Get us *out* of here! Use the batphone at least. Call for backup!"

Angel shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry. My batphone can't seem to penetrate these tunnels."

"Damn you, Si-"Spike stopped talking and froze when he heard the shuffling of approaching Bleathvores. Five of the tentacled creatures stood in front the cage looking at them and pointing. "How's your Bleathvore? Mine's a bit rusty."

"Never learned any."

Spike sighed and began to listen carefully. "I think they think we're humans."

Bleathvore 1: "Not human. Vampire."

Bleathvore 2: "*Vampires*? Nasty things. Parasites."

Bleathvore 3: "Maybe we could sell or trade them?"

Bleathvore 4: "Right! What would want a *vampire*? They bite! Suck blood!"

Bleathvore 1: "I could offer it to my mother-in-law. As a present."

All Bleathvores: Laughter.

Bleathvore 5: "We have to do *something* with them!" He looked over at 1. "I *told* you not to come to this city! But *no*! *You* want to go to Disneyland!" He pointed his bandaged tentacle towards Spike. "The shiny-headed one *bit* me! I say we cut their heads off!"

Spike looked at Angel. "I think that one *likes* me. Thinks I'm 'shiny'."

Bleathvore 3: "Oh come! Something out there must want a pair of vampires, do you not think? Maybe they are a breeding pair? Someone could set up a nice tank. Conversation piece for the gathering room. I would take them, but my kids always let the pets die. They are kind of cute, in a human-looking kind of way, do you not think so?"

Bleathvore 5: "No I do *not*. I think they are ugly and they *bite*. Mother-in-law-gift, perhaps. Anything else, no! We could not sell *or* trade them, I bet. And I hear they blow up in the sun."

Bleathvore 4: "I have heard that also. We would have to keep them watered down. And feed them *blood*. Where would we get blood?" He looked over at Angel, studying his hair. "And covered with some type of vampire jelly. Too much trouble."

Spike looked at Angel. "That one doesn't like your hair."

Angel grunted, scowling. "Well, who *would*? It's mussed!"

Bleathvore 2: "The dark one looks mean."

Bleathvore 5: "That is probably just camouflage. See how the shiny one looks sweet and pretty? That is the one that bit me. All I did was *touch* him, to get a better look. The dark one is probably docile. Tamable, even. Still, we should cut off their heads. Besides, I have heard they do not breed."

All other Bleathvores: "Gasp!"

Bleathvore 5: "It is true. They do not even lay eggs. They do not breed as normal creatures should. We should cut off their heads."

Spike cocked his head. "I think they want to breed us." He looked at Angel. "If so, *you* get pregnant."

Bleathvore 3: "It would be a waste to cut off their heads, unless there is a market for vampire heads. Is there? I think we should go above and inquire. It would be wrong not to even try to get something for them."

"I think they're talking about your hair again. Or your head. I can't tell. They must be speaking in some kind of slang. Can't be pure Bleathvore!"

Bleathvore 1: "I know a human-"

Bleathvore 5: "Oh you! You *always* know a human, do you not? Like the human that was to obtain the vervellian case for us. At a *reasonable* price." He rolled four eyes at his companion. "You and your human connections suck."

Bleathvore 1: "You would not know a good price if it mated with your nether regions. I am sure I can get *something* for this pair of vampires. I challenge you!"

"I think they want to fight over me. Or over who has to take you." Spike told Angel.

"Spike?" Angel closed his eyes and leaned against his makeshift backrest.

"Huh?"

Angel grabbed the back of Spike's torn duster, pulling him down and next to him. "Just sit down and shut up, okay? Let's just wait and see what's going to happen."

Spike turned truly horrified eyes upon his Sire. "Just *wait* and see?"

Angel didn't open his eyes as he threw his arm around his childe and pulled him close. "Yeah. Wait."

Spike whimpered and burrowed closer to Angel's side.

Bleathvore 5: "You challenge me? You dare to?"

Bleathvore 1: "Yes! I will go above and I will find a trade or a buyer for them."

Bleathvore 5: "And if you do not?"

Bleathvore 1: "Then you may have my mother in law."

All Bleathvores: Laughter.

Bleathvore 5: "Very amusing. I shall have your mate. And your daughter. The pretty one."

Bleathvore 1: "Fair enough. Rest, brothers, and I shall return."

The group left the cage. 1 to go make a deal, the others to drink and gamble away from the treasures and the vampires.

"Angel?"

"What is it, Spike?"

"My legs are cramping. Can't we try and lift the cage over us? Doesn't have bars on the bottom. We'll just grab hold and lift it up."

"It's electrified, Spike. And probably very heavy."

"Yeah? So?"

Angel sighed. "Not yet, Spike. Maybe later."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

*****
Part 10:

Spike rose and began to pace the small confines of the cage. The damn thing was shrinking, closing in on him; he could *feel* the bars moving closer to him. His jaw was sore from clenching it, his head throbbed, his palms were damp with sweat and blood, his nails cutting into his palms as he clenched them tightly, over and over again, flexing his fingers, his skin was *crawling* and his chest *ached*. If he still had a functioning one, he'd be worried about having a heart attack. He *itched* from toe to head. He couldn't take this! The waiting was killing him! He had to get out of here. He reached out his hands and grabbed hold of the bars.

ZAP!!!!!

Spike sprang back, cursing and shaking his hands. "Shit!" He held them before his face and began to blow on them.

"How *fucking* long have the Bleathvores been gone, Peaches?" Spike asked, his ears still ringing from his latest electrocution.

Angel had opened one eye when Spike was zapped. He checked his watch, and closed his eye again. He let out a sigh. This was going to be a *long* night, he was sure. *Hell* kind of long. "It's been fifteen minutes, Spike."

"Well, hell, Sire." Spike raised his arms wide and let them fall, his torn duster flapping about. "You're gonna have to knock me out. I'll be as loopy as Dru in *another* fifteen minutes."

Angel snorted. "What makes you think you aren't *already* as loopy as Dru?"

"Ha. Ha. You're just suckin' the marrow right out of yer new found funny bone, eh, Peaches?" Spike began walking the perimeter of the cage, not looking at Angel. "It won't be long before I try to distract myself by bashing your head in. You *know* that doncha, Peaches?"

Angel didn't open his eyes. "I have half-an-hour at least." He smiled at Spike. "Maybe even forty-five minutes."

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

Xander woke with a start. He had dozed off on the sofa. He looked over and noticed that Wesley and Cordelia had done the same thing. He looked at his watch and gasped when he saw the time. Five o'clock in the morning! Where *were* they?

"Cordy! Wes!" Xander stood and began to shake Wesley awake.

"Oh! I must have dozed." Wesley removed his glasses and wiped his eyes. "What time is it?" He asked Xander, replacing his glasses.

"It's late! It's after five! They should have been *back* by now!"

Wesley stood and placed his hands on the younger man's shoulders. "Calm down, Xander. I'm sure Angel and Spike are fine. They'll return with the needed item; Buffy will be safe."

Buffy? Xander gave the ex-watcher a confused look. Buffy? "I want *Spike*." He pushed Wesley away and went to shake Cordelia awake.

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

Spike was looking at his boot. And then he was looking at Angel's head. The boot. The head. A match made in heaven, he was sure. He smiled a bit as he imagined how *good* it would feel to kick his Sire in the head. *Hard*.

"Spike." Angel muttered softly, eyes still closed.

Spike's eyes widened. "What?"

"*Don't*"

"Don't *what*?" Spike asked, all innocence.

"What ever you're thinking about; don't do it."

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

"We need to go look for them." Xander stated. Again.

Cordelia had woken and made a pot of coffee. Really *bad* coffee and ignored his desperate need to take action.

"Xander, I'm sure they're *fine*. Angel can *so* handle himself. And Spike? Well, it's *demons* they're fighting, right? No problem for grumpy."

Xander gave her a dirty look. "Where does Deadboy keep his weapons? I just *know* he's stocked up on weapons."

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

Spike had resumed pacing.

It didn't help. Not even a little bit. He could hear the Bleathvores, not too far away, and they seemed to be having a bloody *good* time, while he was locked up in their effin', *stinking*, electrified cage. He wanted to rip several tentacles from each and every one of them and shove them up their asses. Or, at least, be allowed to play in the card game he had concluded they were playing. He walked closer to his Sire and lashed out his foot.

Angel grabbed Spike's ankle before his booted foot could connect with his head and pulled, sending Spike sprawling on his back. Lightening quick, Angel was over Spike, straddling him, the younger vampire's hands held over his head by Angel's, as he smiled down at Spike.

"Over an hour. I'm impressed, Spike. How'd you manage?"

Spike grinned. This was better than pacing, at least. He tried to pull his hands free. Angel leaned closer, adding more of his weight to Spike's pinned hands.

"I was thinking about kicking your head in. That made me all happy and gave me tingles." He frowned. "Didn't last long, though. Thought I'd try the real thing."

Angel smirked. "Real thing doesn't seem to be working for you."

"I wouldn't say that, Peaches." He turned his head and bit Angel's arm, his fangs sinking through Angel's leather.

Angel gasped and pulled his arm away. He quickly grabbed Spikes free arm, holding both arms down just above the elbow.

Spike grinned. "I'm not bored anymore."

Angel narrowed his eyes, regarding Spike with deadly intent. He said nothing.

"Come on, Angel. Let's tussle." He kicked his legs up. "A cage-match, if you will." He grinned.

Angel continued to stare at his childe. "Your lips still sore?"

Caught off guard, Spike answered. "Yeah. A touch sore."

Angel grinned. "Good." And then he thrust his lips down upon Spike's puffy ones. Hard.

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

Xander stood before the weapons cabinet, shaking his head in disbelief. He whistled, a little bit excited at the display. Still. "How much did all of this set Deadboy back? He couldn't spring for a *portable* TV before he dropped *thousands* of dollars on this?"

Wesley and Cordelia ignored him.

"Just what is it you think you're going to *do*, Xander?" Cordelia asked.

Xander pulled a large hunting knife out and thumbed the blade. He gave the pair a nasty grin. "*We*." He stated firmly. "*We* are going to find my vampire."

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

Spike's eyes bulged and he froze. Angel was *kissing* him. He opened his mouth to laugh and Angel's tongue thrust in, tangling with his. Angel laid his body down upon Spike's; his knee thrusting between Spikes legs, right below his crotch, and shoving them open as he continued to kiss him.

*Kiss* him!

"Wha'?" He started to ask, but Angel let go of one of his arms and thrust a hand into his hair, cupping his head, raising it a bit and holding it still as he continued his deep, exploring kiss. Spike didn't finish his sentence; he let himself be kissed.

Angel let go of Spike's other arm, keeping it poised only an inch away, ready to imprison it again, Spike was sure, should he make a defensive move. Spike gave a mental shrug and thrust both his hands into his Sire's, mussed, still slimy, hair. He kissed back.

This, too, was better than pacing. Much better. He bit down on his Sire's tongue, delighting in the taste of his Sire's blood, long denied, but never forgotten.

Angel pulled back, slightly, and bit his childe's swollen lower lip. "Shush." Angel muttered, as he reached his hand down and began to undo Spike's jeans. He moved his mouth to Spike's neck once he held his childe's hard cock in his hand. He licked Spike's neck and rose enough to push Spike's pants down and over his ass.

When Angel laid his still leather-covered crotch over Spike's naked one, Spike's clouded mind began to clear a bit and he stiffened. "Just what the bloody hell-"

"Shut *up*." Angel placed his mouth over Spike's again. He licked at and suckled Spike's mouth, nibbling and thrusting his tongue inside. Angel reached down and began to undo his pants. He hissed and muttered when the task proved to be difficult one-handed.

Spike snickered once free of Angel's questing tongue. He cocked an eyebrow. "Mind telling me why yer intent on raping me, Sire?"

Angel placed a hand over Spike's mouth, leaning all his weight down, as he continued to work at his stubborn zipper. He grinned, triumphantly, once his hard cock was free and thrust his naked erection over Spike's. He used his now free hand to open Spike's shirt and then his own. Once naked, cool chest met naked, cool chest, his tongue was back in Spike's mouth, and his hand was holding and rubbing their two cocks together. After a moment, Angel rose on one hand and turned Spike over.

"What-" Spike started, but Angel had a hand across his mouth and began suckling the back of his ear before the protest could finish forming in his mind, let alone be spoken.

Angel dragged his tongue from Spike's ear to his neck, across it, and to his other ear. He sucked and chewed at the lobe, bringing his hand up. He spat on his fingers and coated his cock. Angel snaked his hand under Spike's waist and pulled up. "Raise up, Spike."

Spike did, sticking his ass in the air. He moaned loudly once, cool, saliva wet fingers were thrust inside of him. He whimpered when they were removed. He gasped and grunted in pleasure when his Sire came over and into him, thrusting in to the hilt, pushing him flat to the damp, rotting floor and fucking him as if there were no tomorrow.

Angel reached around and grabbed hold of Spike's erection, jacking in time with his hard thrusts. He closed his eyes and allowed himself the pleasure of fucking his childe. He let himself cum once he had felt the cool, wet spurts of Spike's release against his hand. He lay down fully upon his childe, closing his eyes.

Once he noted Spike was asleep he allowed himself to drift away into sleep also.

He figured this had bought him another hour, at the very least, before Spike was trying to kick his head in again. Maybe an hour and a *half*, if he was lucky.

Neither vampire noticed the Bleathvores watching them.

Bleathvore 2: "What was *that*?"

Bleathvore 3: "Kind of scary was it not? Breeding, do you suppose? I thought they do *not* breed." He looked at 5 accusingly.

Bleathvore 5: "I stand by my statement." He looked closely at the still joined vampires. He shuddered. "That was *not* breeding! They are the same. Same do not *breed*." He shuffled closer. He smiled, three rows of teeth showing. "But this? *This*, maybe we could *sell*. Perhaps a tank would not be amiss."

*****