you can ever imagine,” she muttered, then stood. Four old pillows graced the bed, and she gestured toward them. “You may just want to get naked and lie down, because we both know what’s going to happen after you lock your hand around the metal.” Because what he’d felt from the bottle that had sent him down to his bed to masturbate in all his glory had been only a fraction of what Angel was getting from the bedframe.
Tucker’s eyebrows went up. “Really?” he asked.
“Yes, really,” Angel retorted.
“Well, if that’s all that happened here, do I really have to—”
“Yes.” And this was what was pissing her off. “Because it wasn’t all Bridget and Sophie. There were a lot of different energies there, and you never know if those people are going to pop up somewhere else.”
Tucker started to laugh uncomfortably. “So I’m going to have an orgy in my head?”
Angel wondered—was she blushing? She wasn’t supposed to feel anything physical, but her “body” was hot, the heat pulsing under her energy shell in a peculiar, supple way.
“Something like that,” she conceded. “I don’t feel any violence here. Just lots and lots of….” She wrinkled her nose. “Fluids. Fluids and lust.”
“Oh God,” Tucker muttered. He looked around the room with purpose, his gaze landing on the giant pile of cleaning rags he’d brought upstairs. He’d used maybe three of them on the room, getting rid of the grime and dust that had settled everywhere, and what was left was a mostly clean bucket of water, mild hand cleaner, and a still-giant pile of clean cotton cloths.
“Okay, I think we have the necessities,” he said, grabbing one of the rags and the bucket of water. “Lotion would be nice. Lube would be better, but….” He shrugged and studied the moldings on the ceiling. Angel understood, sort of. Going downstairs and fetching the lubricant would be like admitting he was going to have a supernatural sexual experience.
Angel could see how admitting it was going to happen would be far more disconcerting than the actual event. Or so she thought.
“Okay,” Tucker said, shucking off his gloves and trying obviously not to make eye contact. “You promise—nothing violent?”
There was need in his voice, and Angel scanned again, just to make sure.
“Some of the participants were a little… enthusiastic,” she said delicately, and Tucker groaned.
Tucker took another breath. “And nobody’s going to try to jump into my ship, right?”
Angel stared at him blankly. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you can read my thoughts and be there when I see these stories. That’s only a… a hop, skip, and a jump away from full possession, right?”
Angel’s mouth dropped in horror. “A ghost taking over your body?” Ruth had never mentioned it—but then, Ruth hadn’t had Buffy as a primer either.
“Well, yeah. I mean, mostly what I’ve experienced is like being in a movie with surround sound, but I’m a little worried here. Sex can be pretty overwhelming to the senses. Nobody’s going to try to take me over, are they?”
Angel thought about it. “Well, no. I mean, I don’t think so. Tucker, that sort of thing takes sentience, right? When I opened the front door for you, I had to direct my… myself into your body. What’s going to happen here is just memories. Like you’ve been doing. Except there’ll be a lot more people. And everybody’s naked. And some of them are….” Her eyes widened. “Tucker, sometimes this bed had more than two or three people in it. And some of them used paddles!”
“You’re killing me, Angel. Killing. Me. Enthusiastic. Great. Not just an orgy, a big rough sex orgy fucking around in my brain. Dear Penthouse Forum.”
“You’re writing a letter now?”
He let out a strangled laugh. “Note to self: Angel has spent over fifty years locked in an old house with my maiden aunt—the legitimization of porn is not a thing.”
“I know what pornography is,” Angel said stiffly. “It is a terrible, demeaning, objectifying thing.”
“Yeah, Angel, unless you’re horny and you don’t want to go out and hurt anybody’s feelings getting laid.”
Angel gasped. “But… but you have no problem at all with promiscuous sex! The first morning I saw you, you were with some poor young woman who—”
“Who was grateful for my presence,” Tucker said bitterly. “Angel, has it occurred to you that this whole ghost-hunting gig isn’t my first barbecue? That I’m used to being used by the powers that be?”
“I don’t understand what that has to do with—”
“Fuck it,” he snarled. “Let the hatesex