62

Cold Comfort

Spike swept Rose into a bear-hug the moment she entered the apartment. A slight frown crossed his face as he caught Angel's scent all over her, but he shrugged it off. Rose would hug anybody, even his nancy-boy grandsire, at the drop of a hat. He gave her a quick kiss (and that had a hint of Angel to it as well, must've given the ponce a peck on the cheek), then turned her over to the children.

When Rose started to disentangle herself from the twins, though, Spike said, "No hurry, luv. Dinner ought to be arriving at any time now."

Rose looked away quickly. He was so sweet and thoughtful and considerate at times. Most of the time, she amended in her head. So why was she feeling so attracted to Angel? It was probably the most rational thought she'd had on the subject in the last few days, but before she could pursue it, images of Angel flashed through her mind until he was nearly all she could think about.

&&&&&

"And how was Spike acting today, my fine fellows?" Drusilla asked every night, but the answer had yet to change. It was slowly starting to sink in to her delusional little head that her allies were not, perhaps, the best of observers.

A mutual shrug. "Same as always," Val replied. "Are you sure that witch even cast the right spell?"

Drusilla nodded. "I can hear them," she said vaguely, staring off into space. "They're crying out to each other. But they're still fighting it. At least a little bit." She looked down at her new constant companion. "But that's all right, isn't it, Henrietta? Because the longer they fight it, the harder they'll fall. Right into each other's arms."

&&&&&&

Rose was turning down the covers, and was preparing to get into bed when Spike suddenly sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his shoulder.

"Is something wrong?" Her feelings for Angel aside, she did care for Spike. He'd given her a reason to be human, children, and a whole range of emotions that she'd never had access to as a Power. Emotions that were increasingly bending towards Angel.

"Think I pulled a muscle cleaning out that demon's nest this morning," Spike muttered. "Not to worry about, pet. I'll be right as rain tomorrow. Definitely one of the pluses of being a vampire."

"Do you want me to rub it for you?" Rose didn't want to encourage his attentions, but she didn't want to see him hurting, either. Maybe he was feeling abused enough that he wouldn't want to make love to her tonight.

Spike let out a sigh and flopped face-down on the bed. "Would you, babe?" he asked. "I know you had a long day, but the bloody thing hurts like hell."

Rose straddled him and began gently working out the kinks and knots, soothing the tension. No one had taught her how, she seemed to have a natural gift for it. She poured herself into it, concentrating on the task at hand and blanking her mind to all else. When she finished with the sore shoulder, she moved on to the rest of his back. She knew that he threw himself into a fight with no reservations, and like as not hurt elsewhere as well. She kept it up until her hands were trembling with fatigue. At last she rolled off him. She was about to ask how he felt when she realized that he'd fallen asleep under her ministrations. She gently brushed the hair out of his face, thinking how much his son resembled him, especially in sleep when the cares and responsibilities weren't there for all to see. Then, she carefully pulled the covers over him and slipped between them herself, and let herself drift off to sleep too.

&&&&&&&

Angel wasn't sleeping. He was up, he was down, he was pacing the floors, turning on the t.v. only to turn it off again. He couldn't concentrate on anything, but had far too much energy to sleep. He couldn't ever remember feeling this way before. It hadn't been this way with Buffy, nor with Cordelia. He didn't have any of the niggling guilty doubts about him and Rose, as he had with the previous two. Maybe because she wasn't anything like them. Didn't fight her own battles, but waited to be rescued. That was one difference. It did have a certain appeal to his protective instincts that here was someone to protect that didn't object to being protected, as long as it wasn't overdone. What else could make it different? She wasn't any older, at least in appearance, than Buffy and Cordy, but she hadn't really been human for very long. Was it the fact that she was, or at least had been (no one was sure which way that one went, not even Rose herself), one of The Powers That Be? That this young and excitingly new woman was actually older than time itself? So knowledgeable about some subjects, but when it came to more mundane things, often quite ignorant. Or maybe it was just because she was Rose. Because she acted and smelled as sweet as her namesake and was twice as beautiful. And it made his unbeating heart ache at the thought of her being with Spike. Of her being with anyone but him.

&&&&&&&&

Rose had gone to sleep readily enough, but she woke before she'd slept an hour. Once awake, her mind was so active, if unproductively so, that returning to the arms of Morpheus was nigh well impossible. But there were other arms here. Even in sleep, Spike felt a need to be near her, in contact with her, and while he slept, he'd flung an arm around her and pulled her close to him. It seemed to be almost a reflex action on his part. And it felt.., safe.., comfortable.., familiar. She snuggled back against him in an act nearly as automatic as Spike's had been. He was her safe haven. Was that why she was feeling such an attraction to Angel? Because he was an unknown quantity? At least, compared to Spike. She'd shared everything with Spike these past few years, there were few secrets left between them. But she knew about Angel only what he cared to share, or snippets gleaned from Spike's conversations. Which were seldom about Angel. He was dark, mysterious, and exciting. Her mind went round and round in circles in this fashion for some time without coming to any particular conclusion. Except that she was falling in love with Angel. And from the way he'd been acting, he was falling in love with her as well.

&&&&&&

Spike woke in the wee hours, feeling the soft, warm shape of his beloved molded to his own body. He'd gotten so that he could hardly sleep without holding her. Much better than a teddy bear, and even more cuddlesome. Something didn't feel quite right now, though. There was a tension in her that wasn't present when she slept. He gently brushed her glorious hair aside so that he could nuzzle up against her neck, whisper in her ear.

"Something wrong, babe?" It was so soft that if she wasn't awake, it wouldn't wake her. But he didn't believe that she was asleep.

"Just a little restless," Rose admitted in a whisper. "Did I wake you, Spike? I didn't mean to, you seemed to be so tired."

Spike chuckled ever so softly. "Not that tired, luv. Caught forty winks in my office this afternoon. Wouldn't have nodded off so early if you hadn't gotten me so relaxed." He was beginning to wonder what the kids were on about. This was the Rose he knew and loved. His Rose. Never been with anyone else, never would. "Since we're both wide awake, and we can sleep in tomorrow, maybe I can.., relax you, enough to sleep." His hands began an exploratory journey over her body.

Rose gasped at the sudden onslaught of sensations and responded to them, her body seemingly having a will of its own. Part of her wanted this, oh so much. Part of her said she was being a traitor to her new-found love for Angel. And one small part of her, tucked in the very nether corners of her mind said that she never wanted to be with anyone but Spike. But those corners were getting smaller and smaller. She finally rationalized it, at least partially, by reminding herself that since Spike had no notion of what was going on, he had every right to expect her to respond to his caresses. He was the father of her children, and the man she had shared the only human life she had ever had with. He had risked his life for hers time and again. If nothing else, she owed him one last time of being together as she never had been with anyone else.

&&&&&&&

Angel had finally fallen into a fitful sleep only to waken abruptly with the sudden unwelcome conviction that Rose was making love with Spike. He had no way of knowing for sure, no way of proving it other than breaking into their apartment, which wouldn't do at all. But some way, some how, he was as sure of it as he was of the rise and fall of the tides. He threw the covers off and got out of bed, prowling around the dark apartment like a caged animal. He was angry with Rose for allowing Spike to touch her like that. He felt betrayed that she would do that when they were in love. He was jealous as all get out of Spike, taking for granted what he would willingly give his soul for. That thought brought him up a little short. His soul. The one thing that made him be in love with Rose rather than wanting to drain her life's blood. With a groan, he came to the realization that making love to Rose was the last thing he could do. Not and retain the one thing that allowed them to love each other. He resolved to set whatever departments it took to finding a way for him to be happy without losing his soul again. He'd been here all this time without even considering the possibility. With all the resources of high technology and old magic, there ought to be a way to do it. To let him love and be loved without becoming what he abhorred the most. Without becoming a monster that would drive Rose away from him rather than bring her into his arms where he wanted her to be. Without the danger of him becoming Angelus.

&&&&&&&

Spike's renewed faith in Rose's well-being wavered a bit. Tonight, her love-making seemed a bit.., artificial. The responses contrived rather than spontaneous. He began wondering again what was clouding her mind to keep the kids from reading her mind. And what was floating around behind those clouds.

&&&&&&&

Rose determinedly shut off her mind and just reacted on a physical level. Spike was a very skilled lover, and he knew how to evoke her responses. He knew her body as no one did, knew what caresses to apply when and where to make her mindless with passion. What she didn't realize was that Spike noticed that she really wasn't there. Or how much it hurt him that she wasn't.

&&&&&&

Spike, Rose and Angel were not the only people within the confines of Wolfram and Hart's glass and steel structure that were awake.

'Can you hear anything?' Ariel thought at her brother.

'Just daddy,' Alaric's frustrated reply came back. 'I still can't hear mummy.'

'I can't either,' his sister admitted. Being telepathic their emotions came through more strongly than they would in ordinary speech, and the mental overtones of both children reeked of frustration and sadness. With overtones of panic setting in.

'Has anything in that book given you any ideas?' Alaric asked, more than a little desperately.

'No,' Ariel answered. 'Are we even sure that it's the right book?'

'It has to be,' Alaric rejoined firmly. 'I think if we don't get mummy back soon, we won't have her at all. Ever.'

Ariel shuddered at the thought. The twins were having a very trying time of it, more so than anyone could guess. It was as terrifying a separation from their mother as their birth had been. But at least after they'd been born, they were still able to speak with Rose mind to mind. Now, even that comfort was denied them.

&&&&&&&

Spike renewed his efforts desperately. Everything he knew that turned her on, he did, again and again. And constantly whispered in her ear (when his mouth wasn't otherwise occupied) how much he loved her, all the tender endearments. But to no avail. Her body responded to him with alacrity, but Rose was shut off to him. It was as unsatisfying as their love-making had ever been. He felt bitter bile climb into his throat as he reflected that he could have gotten more than this if he had paid for it. At this point, he wasn't sure which of them was using the other, or if it was mutual. But whatever it was, it wasn't making love, and it wasn't the ecstasy he had come to expect with his precious, darling girl. Disappointment and anger warred within him until he wasn't sure whether he wanted to cry, or hit something. He gave Rose one final, fierce kiss and rolled off of her and curled into a miserable ball beside her.

&&&&&&

Rose was just present enough to realize that something wasn't right. She rolled over to face him, or at least, his back. "Spike, is something wrong?" She put a gentle hand on his shoulder, but he shook her off.

"Don't touch me unless you mean it," Spike bit out. "I don't know where you've been, luv. Not sure that I want to know. But I do know that you haven't been here with me."

Rose was at a loss. What he said was completely true, but how could she admit it without telling him everything? And she wasn't quite ready to do that. She didn't want to be with him anymore, but she didn't want to hurt him. And she wasn't sure how the children would take it, but she knew their reactions to the situation wouldn't be good. She felt trapped, like the weight of the entire world was resting on her slender shoulders. How could she do this without hurting anybody? But how could she not without hurting herself and Angel? The magnitude of her problem hit her square between the eyes, and with a stifled sniffle, she turned her back on Spike to weep softly into her pillow.

For the first time since they'd been together, Spike let her cry without offering her any comfort. How could he, when he had none to offer her? And where was he to find his own refuge when Rose had shut herself off from him? So quietly that she couldn't hear him, Spike shed tears into his own pillow.