"Where is the magic book?" the woman who previously shot him and turned out to be the leader of the dark slayers asked Spike for the sixth time in a few minutes.

"Dunno..." Spike muttered. It wasn't the first time he was tortured, it won't be the last. He went through hell for Buffy, this was nothing, comparatively. They had to be inexperienced slayers in a way to think even for a second that he would give her up. They definitely didn't know their history. Even if some of them had a look at the watcher's files, that would only tell them how he once was. So it would all not make sense to them. Not that it did make sense at all to him, falling in love with the Slayer. It was just one of those things, exception that proves the rule. He received a whip across the face for daring to say the wrong words. It fell hard on his broken nose, and he felt his mouth fill with blood. He swallowed for the fluid to stay down. With not getting anything to eat for a couple of days, he needed his own blood to stay where it belonged at least. After the thirtieths question, answer and reaction he drifted away somewhere between wakefulness, sleep and disorientation, but not enough not to feel himself being pulled along on his stomach at some point later on…

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Spike lifted his head, filling his eyes with his surroundings. Pressing his hand to the almost healed wound in his chest he rose to see Angel lying on his side, his hands chained to the wall behind him, looking just as much beaten up as he had felt himself, if not more, "can you hear me? Are you all right?" he went closer.

There was a barely audible grunt in response, "sore."

"See? You get into trouble because you went out with Buffy once."

"Saying who?"

"Don't blame me, just following my sire's footsteps as a good little vampire would…hey, those chains don't look hard to break. We gotta get out of here. I think I saw a sewer entrance while they were holding me upside down…Lemme try your chains…uh, didn't think it was going to be that easy. Why didn't you set yourself free? Angel? Can you walk?" There was a lengthy silence. Overly lengthy. Spike looked to see Angel's eyes are closed, his body limp, "you grumpy bitter death token," he sighed, "I guess we are going to stay now until the ladies come back for another round…but don't worry, I shall live to knock thy brains out for making me stay…"

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The next thing Angel knew, Spike was playing nurse to him again, tending to the cuts and bruises he suffered during interrogation, "what happened?"

"You faded on me."

"Oh, dear. . ." Angel was slightly confused.

"You are still weak from you illness, the garlic and the beatings and we didn't get anything to eat."

"I'll be all right," he sat up "didn't you say there was a sewer entrance?" He got to his feet a slightly shakily. He still felt light headed and somewhat queasy but he summoned all his determination to stay standing. When he realised he managed that, he put his concentration into kicking the door down. That however, proved itself to be too much effort as he heaved and nearly regurgitated. Or he would have, if there was anything in his stomach. Above all, he will have to thank Spike for caring for him at some point. He swore silently. He didn't like to feel bad and most importantly, he didn't like to thank Spike.

"Sit here, I'll look around," Spike noticed his weakness, "you've got quite a pastiness there, you're going to have to take it slow today," he disappeared around the corner of the corridor.

Angel didn't felt steady enough to get up and follow him, but he shouted, "we will not speak of this ever again or I'll plonk you in lead and you'll stew like bacon…fainting," he muttered to himself as Spike couldn't hear him anymore anyway, "how utterly embarrassing…"

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Angel felt fingertips brushing against his shoulder, trying to wake him up, caressing him like a lover. He cringed involuntarily away from the fingers and opened his eyes.

"Sewers blocked," Spike reported back, "and it's daytime. But there's nobody around, so I got in touch with Harmony. She's sending a car. Also, apparently Buffy found the book. Dunno where the slayers got to, but we probably don't have to worry about them too much…you ok?" He touched his Sire again gently on the arm. He sat down next to him and leaned back, resting his head against the empty doorframe, exposing his throat to his lover, "take some. You need it."

Angel harshly lowered his head on Spike throat, but he licked and kissed the hollow of it instead, "there's no need for that. Nevertheless, this could be useful…" He sighed settling himself closer to him and rubbed himself lightly against his Childe, his hands down to grip his firm butt.

"You do this all the time?" Buffy looked at them from the corridor, "one always comes to check up on you, one always sees this!" She threw some car keys towards them as she left.

"We messed up again. For good this time…" Angel stated.

"We did mate, we did," Spike guaranteed and as if nothing would've happened, entwined his arms around the older vampire's waist and drew him closer to give him a passionate kiss.

Still troubled by his ex, but not objecting in the least, he returned the kiss. Maybe thanking Spike will not be such a hard thing…

The End.