She found him lying in her old lover's arms, sleeping gently, while his grandsire brushed a blond lock away from blue eyes. He slept like an angel, odd that it was the larger vampire that was named for one. It made her chuckle, even as she knew that she came only second in Angel's attentions. It didn't matter; he was second in her heart as well. Lying down with them, her head on Spike's chest, feeling the rush of cold brought by his skin, his hands held her close to him and she fell asleep, safe, once and for all.
Angel's hand moved over her chest, taking comfort as her warmth spread through his boy to him. His boy; with him; once more. It felt strangely right. Her heart beat gently like a clock and he brushed kisses on his boy's neck for every beat of it. His, his, for all time. Spike was overdoing it, pretending to sleep, but he didn't mind. Understanding all too well, the need to know this strangeness that was them now.
He cared for her too of course, like a silly memory more beautiful in its distance. Not his, never his, but still here.
It shattered him to be held, to be held and hold on. And he grabbed on, fearful that the dream would pass. Angel's chin lay on his shoulder, so unsure for once. Spike took to it like a fish to dry land. Fearful of the heat that was cooking him dry. He was theirs, caught between a rock and a very hard place.
He pushed himself against Angel, rubbing in and feel the old man grow harder. Old habits were hard to die. Incapable of shaking it off like the bad regrets of yesterday.
He didn't want to wake up.