Xander chewed the end of his pen, and stared thoughtfully at the sheet of
paper in front of him. So far it bore the date and one, *very* short, line.
'Dear Will' wasn't much to show for nearly three hours work......but it was
still going better than his phone call to Buffy. 

She had been less than happy when he failed to keep to their - 'phone me
every other day or else' - agreement. He decided recovering in hospital
from a brutal vampire attack was probably a poor choice of defence, so
he'd played the 'I'm a useless doof' card, which seemed to have worked.

She had filled him in on the situation back in Sunnydale. Basically, he
wasn't exactly Mr Popular with anyone. His parents were furious that 
he'd quit his job. Giles was unhappy because Xander's father kept calling.
Willow was upset because Xander had taken off without a word. Buffy
was pretty pissy with him too. She'd made up some story for Giles and
Willow, telling them he'd gone to learn the P.I. trade with Angel. She
said it was up to him to come clean about the rest.

Xander was grateful for her discretion, and upset that everyone was
upset, hence the letter. However, trying to tell your best friend that you
were gay was an enormous hurdle. Trying to tell your best friend that you
were gay, *and* involved with Spike was virtually insurmountable.
Maybe he should phone ? Then again, maybe not. Neither he nor Will
were much good with the verbal communications. 

"All right, pet ?" Spike wandered out of the kitchen carrying a tray. He
set it down on the coffee table beside the couch. 

Xander looked at it and raised his eyebrows. "Tea ?" .

"And biscuits," said Spike defensively, snatching one and shoving it 
into his mouth. He munched happily and motioned toward the discarded
piece of paper. "How's the letter to Red going ?"

"In a word - nowhere," said Xander reaching for a biscuit. He spoke
around a mouthful of crumbs, "I mean what am I supposed to say ?"

Spike shrugged. "The truth ?" 

"Oh great, I just say 'Hey Will, guess what, I've discovered I like guys.
Oh
yeah, and I'm doing the whacky with Spike."

Spike spat crumbs as he chuckled. "Well you could say that, pet, but I'd
go with something a *bit* more subtle."

"Any suggestions, oh mighty one ?"

"I dunno," said Spike shrugging. "Why not just tell her you're into blokes
and leave out the other crap."

Xander poked his lover in the leg as he passed him the mug of blood.
"*Not* crap. This is important stuff, that's why I want to tell her." He
sighed. "I just don't know how."

"So call her instead." 

Xander sipped his tea. "I don't know. It's been so long since we really
talked ..about ..well...anything. We've got pretty good at repressing all
that 'innermost thoughts' stuff. I mean, we used to talk, before things got
complicated-"

"-and the old hormones kicked in," said Spike. He shook his head, "How
do you buggers manage to breed ? Half the time you're not even speaking
the same soddin' lingo."

"What, you didn't date before you got vamped ?"

"I shagged," said Spike crudely. "There wasn't a lot of polite
conversation."

The rattle of the elevator car ended their discussion. Doyle stepped out
carrying a small box. "How's it going, fellas ?"

Spike grunted. 

Xander waved his sheet of paper. "Depends. How are you at writing
letters ?"

"These would be the earth-shattering revelation kind, yeah ?"

Xander nodded.

Doyle shook his head. "I'm not much for baring my emotions, as my ex-
wife would no doubt testify."

"You were married ?" asked Xander in surprise.

"Yep," said Doyle, unpacking the box ~ he put the packets of blood in 
the fridge. "Then I found out about my 'interesting' birthright, and things
kinda fell apart. They aren't so bad now. We've talked. Said all the stuff
we should have said then." 

"Does she know....." Xander's voice trailed off. He flushed.

"That I'm in love with my boss ?" Doyle guessed. "That would be a 'no'.
She's in Sumatra at the moment, so it hasn't really come up."

"Will you tell her ?"

Doyle thought about it. Finally he said, "Yeah, I think I will. We've both
moved on. She's dating some guy. I think she'll be glad I'm happy."

"Yeah, right," Spike snorted.

Doyle's reply was lost as he gasped sharply, grabbing at the refrigerator
door. He let go and clasped his head with both hands as he sank to the
floor. Before he hit the ground, Spike was vaulting over the back of the
couch. The vampire slid to his knees beside him, drawing Doyle close. 

Xander rushed over to them, wide-eyed and slightly panicked. 

"Vision," Spike explained succinctly. He'd witnessed his fair share of
funny turns ~ Dru whimpering and moaning while he stroked her hair,
and tried to soothe her. Now he held Doyle as the vision ran its course.

Xander crouched down beside them, one hand on Doyle's leg. "What 
can we do ?" he asked.

"Nothing," said Spike bluntly. His impassive demeanour was at odds
with the gentle way he held the stricken man.

Abruptly it ended. Doyle lay gasping in Spike's arms, green eyes glazed
with pain. "Drink ?" he groaned.

Spike drew a silver hip flask out of his pocket. He passed it to Xander
who unscrewed the cap and held it to Doyle's lips. 

Doyle took several grateful sips and coughed. "Tha-that ... was .... a ...
baddun." 

"What'dya see ?" Spike asked.

Doyle frowned, his focus hazy. He suddenly realised how close he was 
to the vampire and struggled to rise; but his bones felt as if they'd been
replaced with wet string, and he sank back into Spike's embrace with a
moan.

Spike muttered and lifted the young man up, carrying him over to the
couch. 

Xander followed. "Are they all like that ?" he asked, concerned.

Doyle nodded weakly. "Pretty...pretty much. At...least....the..b-bone
crunching pain...and..the...falling to my...knees part."

Xander winced in sympathy.

Spike was still impatiently waiting . "So, you saw summat, yeah ? Well,
what ?"

Grim-faced, Doyle regarded them both silently.

Xander felt a cold shiver creep down his spine. 

**********************************************

Angel was summoned downstairs by three, very sombre looking
individuals. "What ?" he asked worriedly. "What's happened ?" No 
one answered and his sense of foreboding deepened. "Doyle ?"

"I had a vision," said the young man quietly.

Angel looked at him. "Are you okay ?"

Doyle smiled faintly to assuage his lover's concern. "I'm fine, just the
usual headache. It's wearing off."

Angel forced himself to ask. "What did you see ?"

It was Spike who answered. "You soddin' ex has landed herself in it
again. Right up to her scrawny little neck."

<Buffy....> Worried dark eyes turned toward troubled green ones.
"What...?"

Doyle shrugged helplessly. "There wasn't much detail. Just her, a
Hellmouth, and some guy working the mystic arts."

"A sorcerer ?"

"Possibly. I didn't get much on him. The vision didn't give me a name or
a face, just the feelin' of trouble comin'." Doyle's face tightened. "Bad
trouble."

"We're going back, yeah ?" Xander asked. "I mean, we're going to help
Buffy, right ?"

Spike stared at Xander. "Are you fuckin' nuts ? You're not going back
there."

Xander raised his jaw defiantly. "Buffy's my friend. I'm going to help."
He looked around at them all. "You can't stop me," he insisted; though
his expression said he was worried they might try.

"No one's stopping any one," said Angel gently, "but Spike might be
right. You've only just got back up on your feet again and-"

"-and I'm fine," Xander cut in. He tried to put his point from another
angle. "Look, you're both going. Right ?"

Angel looked at Doyle, who nodded. The vampire looked back at
Xander. "We're going."

"Then I want to help," said Xander. He stared at Spike, his expression
pleaded for his lover to understand. "We can't let them go back alone.
They risked their necks to help me get you out." Xander wasn't trying 
to appeal to his lover's sense of honour, since Spike didn't really have
one. However, Spike hated being indebted. He might not be all upright
and noble, but he paid his dues.

Spike wasn't buying it. "I'm not risky my bloody neck for that chit. If
someone wants to work the mojo on her, good luck to him. I hope he
gives her a fatal case of boils." A low growl warned him he was walking
on dangerous ground. Spike fell silent, but his gold-eyed glower spoke
volumes.

Angel restricted his warning to a growl and a glare. He was well aware
there was no love lost between his errant offspring and his former lover,
but on this occasion he felt Spike was speaking out of fear for Xander
rather than hatred for Buffy. 

"She's my friend," Xander reiterated defiantly. "I c.can help."

Since Angel was glaring at his childe he saw the flicker of concern that 
shadowed gold-blue eyes. Spike had picked up on the slight tremor in
Xander's voice. It seemed, even after all he'd gone through, Xander was
still unsure of his worth.

Spike's expression softened, the anger fading from his eyes. "All right,
but you don't mess with nothin' with horns or-"

"-tentacles," Xander finished. "I remember." He smiled, his face lighting
up with relief. "So we all go ?" he asked hopefully.

Spike nodded. "If Peaches here wants us."

Xander turned to Angel expectantly. 

Angel was trapped. How could he refuse the boy. Besides, Xander 
was right - he was Buffy's friend, what right did Angel have to deny him.
"We all go," he agreed. "I'll call Giles, see if he's heard anything, and
let
him know to expect us." 

"What about Cordy ?" Doyle asked. "You want me to tell her to pack her
bags too ?"

Angel shook his head. "No, I want her here, but tell her to come in as
usual. We might need her to check a few things for us." He turned to
Spike and Xander. "Get ready. I want to leave as soon as it's dark." 
They nodded and left. Angel sighed, he hoped he was making the right
decision. Something told him, evil sorcerers aside, this was not going to
be a restful trip.

Part Two  

Xander turned away from the mirror as he slipped off his clothes. The
mark on his throat had all but disappeared. Not so the scars on his chest.
They'd faded to a pale, pinkish white, but the words that ran just beneath
the line of his pectorals were still clear. Beneath them was a crooked
cross. It sickened him to look at them, bringing a rush of remembered
fear and fresh revulsion. 

The memory of Penn's hands touching his body made his skin crawl, 
and left him with an overpowering urge to scrub himself clean. He was
relieved no one had, as yet, said anything about the number of showers
he was taking.

He stepped into the cubicle and turned on the water, immersing himself
under the near scalding spray. Eyes closed, he neither saw nor heard the
bathroom door open but he sensed he was no longer alone. He turned
quickly - Spike stood, leaning back against the basin. 

Xander's hands automatically covered his scarred chest. "W-what ?"

"Nothing, pet. Just admiring the view." Spike wandered up to the glass 
door. He yanked his T-shirt over his head and slipped off his jeans and
boots. Sliding open the door he stepped inside. As his body rubbed up
against Xander's, Spike closed his eyes and gave a rumbling purr. 

Xander jumped. Blue eyes opened and regarded him intently. Xander
held his breath as Spike very purposefully took hold of his hands and
drew them down to his sides. 

"Don't," Spike whispered. "Don't hide yourself from me."

Xander dropped his gaze. Spike immediately released one of his hands
and caught hold of his chin, tilting his head back up. The vampire kissed
him tenderly. 

"You're mine," Spike whispered. "Nothing changes that."

"I....I....feel different," said Xander helplessly; not even certain
himself
what he meant. Spike's gaze fell to the scars on his chest and Xander
flushed. The vampire let go of his hands and pushed him gently back
against the shower stall. 

"Mine," he repeated firmly. He kissed Xander again. This time he didn't
draw back. Chilled lips trailed along Xander's throat, across his collar
bone, down to his nipples. Xander flinched as Spike reached his scars,
and a cold tongue flickered gently over the tiny lines and ridges.

Spike dropped to his knees, level with Xander's groin. He blew lightly
against the still soft flesh; it twitched in response.

Xander stood, the hot water pounding down his back. He moaned as
Spike's tongue brushed along his length, feeling the blood pooling down
through his body. Another long, slow lick; this time Spike let the head
slip between his lips, suckling on it gently before letting go.

Xander whimpered. This was the first real move Spike had made on him 
since he'd left the hospital. There had been plenty of tender kisses, tight
embraces, and longing looks, but Spike had seemed strangely reluctant to
carry them further. Xander had been both relieved and frustrated by his
lover's recalcitrance. Now he realised how much he needed this.

Spike looked up, rivulets of water trickling down his face."More ?"

Xander didn't bother with words, simply guiding Spike back to his
stirring flesh. Spike flashed him a wicked grin and resumed his actions.
Xander gasped as skilled lips closed around his erection, drawing it 
deep into Spike's mouth. His hips moved involuntarily, thrusting lazily
into cool, satin depths. Strong hands gripped his thighs, pulling him
closer. 

Body shaking, Xander leaned back against the tiles. From somewhere he
found the strength to turn his head, he glanced down. Spike's blond head
bobbed flush with his loins, rosy lips suckling hard. "Oh god," murmured
Xander hoarsely.

Wet lips withdrew. "Want me to stop ?" Spike asked, his eyes held a
teasing glint.

"Don't you fucking dare," said Xander fiercely.

Spike grinned. "No sir." He wrapped his lips back around Xander's
erection and began suckling with renewed vigour.

Xander stuck his hand in his mouth to muffle his cries. Seconds later he
came, shooting his seed deep into Spike's throat. Only his lover's strong
arms prevented him collapsing in a less than dignified heap. He sagged
into the embrace, struggling to get his breath back.

"Good ?" Spike asked softly.

Xander drew back just far enough to look his lover in the eye. "Bet-better
than," he managed breathlessly.

Spike's slightly worried look evaporated and the wolfish grin returned.
"Good. Now hurry up and get your clobber back on. I've got summat for
you."

Xander looked at him.

"Not that," said Spike. His grin widened. "Well, maybe later."

Xander swatted him weakly. "At least..w..wait until...I...I get my.. 

b-breath..b-back."

Spike kissed him tenderly. "Course I will, pet. No fun otherwise. Now
come on, shift your arse."

Grumbling, Xander followed his lover out of the shower. "Whatever
happened to lazing in the afterglow," he muttered, reaching for a towel.

Spike was already fastening his jeans; he picked up his boots and stood
impatiently by the door. "Will you stop your griping and get a move on."

"I'm coming, I'm coming," said Xander. He rubbed the towel over his
hair, wild looking tufts stuck up in all directions.

"Very fetching, pet," Spike smirked.

Xander flipped him the finger and put on his shirt. He left it unfastened
and dragged on his pants. 

"Done ?" 

Xander waved his arm wearily. "Lead on, oh master." Spike draped an
arm around his shoulders and gave him a swift peck on the temple. 

"Now, now, pet. Be nice or no pressie."

Xander's reply was a non-committal grunt.

Spike smoothed down unruly sable strands. His expression grew serious.
"You feelin' better now ?" he asked quietly.

Xander turned to face his lover's concerned gaze. It was typical of 
Spike to treat sex as some kind of 'cure-all'. Still, he couldn't deny
that
he did feel better. Maybe some things had changed, maybe he was
different. *This* was constant; this closeness he craved and needed to
reassure, and reaffirm the link between them. He nodded and leaned in to
place a quick kiss on his lover's mouth.

Spike made a contended sound and nuzzled Xander's throat, fangs
playfully nipping the delicate skin. "Mine," he purred.

"Yours," Xander agreed softly.

They left the bathroom together. Spike led Xander over to the couch. It
was littered with boxes and bags. Xander looked at them and then looked
at Spike, who nudged him forward.

"Well, look at 'em then."

Intrigued, and somewhat bewildered, Xander warily reached for the first
bag.

Spike flung himself into the chair opposite. "Will you stop being so
bloody nervous. It won't soddin' bite."

Xander put his hand into the bag and lifted out - a shirt. Not just any 
shirt, but a beautiful dark, wine red, obviously expensive shirt. He
stared,
wide-eyed.

"You like ?" Spike asked, trying to sound off-hand. "And before you ask, 
it's paid for. I've even got the bloody receipt round here somewhere." He
shook his head in evident self disgust.

"Mine ?" Xander asked, the soft material slipping between his fingers.

Spike sat back, putting his feet up on the coffee table. "All yours, pet.
Figured it was time you stopped wearing Peaches' hand-me-downs. 
Not that they didn't look good on you...." His voice trailed off and 

he shrugged awkwardly. "Any way, we sent the mick and princess
shopping."

"Cordy picked this ?" Xander asked.

"Sort of," said Spike. "Angel gave her the funds, and me and 'im told her
what to get." He pointed toward a large flat box at the back. "Except for
that. That's just from me, but you have to open the others first."

Xander grinned and very carefully lay aside the shirt as he turned his
attention to the other packages. He quickly came to the conclusion that
Angel had spent a small fortune....and Cordy must have had a field day.
There were casual shirts and pants, some more dressy stuff, sneakers and
shoes. Not a loud print or wide stripe amongst them. Colours were deep
and rich - jewel reds, greens, and blues. For someone who'd only ever
spared it a passing thought, fashion suddenly had new meaning. 

"I...I...." He was trying to say he didn't know what to say. Instead all he
could do was open and close his mouth like a fish.

Spike looked amused. "Open mine," he demanded impatiently.

Xander reached for the last box. It was heavy. He carefully took off 
the lid and lifted the layers of tissue paper. His jaw dropped. Inside lay
a
black leather coat. He carefully lifted it out. It was three quarter
length,
soft and supple as peach skin, classy but not, as Spike would say,
'nancyish'.

"It needs to be worn-in," Spike told him. "Leather looks better when
you've been fightin' and fuckin' in it for a few years." He affectionately
patted his duster, which was draped over the back of the chair. 

Xander was still speechless. His clothes had always been a selection of
cast-offs from colour blind cousins, and bargains from the cheap markets
and stores his mother frequented. He brought the leather jacket to his
face and inhaled deeply - it even *smelled* good.

"It's all right, yeah ?" a slightly anxious voice asked. "I mean, I had to
trust them idiots to get it, but I told 'em what I wan-"

Spike was cut off when Xander threw himself forward and kissed him
passionately. When the kiss ended he kept his arms locked around his
lover's neck. "Thank you," he said simply, his voice rough with emotion.
Spike hugged him back somewhat awkwardly. 

"Yeah, well, no lover of mine is wondering about in shoddy gear," he
mumbled. "Those soddin' shirts you wore in Sunnyhell made my flamin'
eyes hurt."

Xander prodded him. "Not nice. We're having a Hallmark moment. Nasty
digs and personal comments not allowed."

"Right," said Spike agreeably, burying his nose in soft, damp hair.
"Whatever you say, pet."

"Was that sarcasm ?"

"Might 'ave bin."

"Ruining the sugar rush here."

"Mmm," Spike murmured, claiming Xander's lips for a heated kiss 
and effectively silencing any further complaints. 

Neither of them said anything else for some time.....

Part Three  

Doyle sat on the edge of the bed, watching his lover pack a few items of
clothing. Two other bags, containing books and a variety of weapons had
been put by the elevator. Angel's face wore an all too familiar expression;
a dark brooding look which meant he was fretting over something. He
hadn't said a word for more than half an hour. Not since he'd called Giles.
A conversation that had been terse to say the least. 

The Watcher had nothing to add concerning their mysterious magic user
and was less than happy to hear that Angel and Spike were heading back
to Sunnydale. The Englishman had argued that Buffy was quite capable
of handling whatever difficulties might arise, and she really didn't need
any assistance. Angel had been uncharacteristically sharp, informing
Giles that it wasn't his intention to intrude, he simply had a job to do 
and he was going to do it. The receiver had rattled when he'd slammed 
it back into the cradle. Clearly, Angel was a little 'on edge'.

Doyle's own emotions were over the place. Even more vague than 
usual, the vision had left him with a lingering sense of unease. Though
faceless sorcerers were still fairly low on his list of pressing concerns 
and he pushed himself to talk about what was really tearing at him,
"So...erm..are you gonna tell her ?"

Angel stopped what he was doing but didn't turn around. "I owe her the
truth," he said quietly.

Doyle stood and walked over to his lover. "I understand," he said gently,
"but do you think this is the time ? I mean, we might hafta work together
on this. That might be hard if she's nursin' a grievance."

Angel looked sideways at him. "She'll know," he explained. "Even if we
try to hide this. She'll sense something. If she thinks were keeping
secrets
from her it will just make things more difficult."

"Fair enough," said Doyle. He hesitated and then asked," How d'ya think
she'll take it ?"

Angel sighed. "Honestly ? I don't know." He glimpsed the wariness in
dark green eyes and touched Doyle's cheek gently. "She won't hurt you."

"Me ? Hey, I'm not worried," Doyle lied. "I mean she only slays evil,
right ?" His mouth twisted into a wry half smile. "Just do us both a favour
and make sure she's at least unarmed when you break the news, yeah."

"She's going to be upset isn't she," said Angel sadly.

"That's pretty much a given," Doyle agreed. He nudged Angel, and his
smile lightened. "Maybe we should let the beat the crap out of us. You
know, let her get it out of her system."

Angel chuckled softly. "Trust me, not a good idea."

"Yeah she'd probably kill us both," said Doyle.

Someone rapped lightly on the door-frame; they turned to look. Xander
hovered sheepishly in the doorway. Spike stood behind him, regarding
his lover with lustful pride. Green eyes widened. 

"Sorry to interrupt, guys. I just wanted to say thanks, for..erm...all
this-"
Xander held out his hands to indicate his black jeans, dark sapphire shirt,
and leather coat.

Angel smiled. "You welcome. They look good on you," he added.

"Yeah ?" Xander looked flustered at the compliment.

"All right, enough with the bloody chit chat," Spike grumbled. "Are we
going or what ?"

Angel nodded. "Let's go." He picked up his bag and Doyle slung his
haversack over his shoulder. Xander retrieved his things as they went 
through the main room - he'd shoved what he needed into one of the
large paper store bags. 

Spike was travelling light. He had his lover, his lighter, his smokes, and
a
hip flask of JD. He'd also helped himself to one of Angel's fancy knives:
a large ebony handled affair with a serrated blade, tucked snugly into his
boot.

"Get those," said Angel, directing Spike to the bags by the elevator. The
younger vampire shot his Sire a hateful look, but collected them without
a word. They travelled in the cramped elevator in silence. Doyle found
himself sandwiched between an agitated Xander and an annoyed Spike.
He made sure he kept his hands in full view; the wrath of Spike was
something he could well do without.

Spike dumped the bags by the car and grabbed his lover round the waist,
hauling Xander with him onto the back seat. Xander ended up sprawled
over him, their legs hanging out the open door.

"Spike, behave," Angel snapped wearily as he loaded the car.

There were muffled sniggers as the pair rearranged themselves on the
back seat.

"You know," said Doyle quietly, "those soldier boys aren't gonna be too
happy to see Spike back in town. I think that truce we had with 'em is
pretty much null and void if we show up there again."

"Then we'll just have to keep out of their way," said Angel simply,
closing the boot.

Doyle nodded glumly and got into the passenger seat. He glanced into 
the rear view mirror. <Why am *I* worrying> he thought in disgust.
Spike certainly didn't seem too bothered. The vampire was busy groping
Xander, who was struggling ineffectually to keep Spike's hands out of his
jeans. Doyle sank lower into his seat and tried *not* to keep glancing
into the mirror. He sighed quietly. Temptation was a tricky thing......


Chapter IV

Spike looked at the boy curled asleep on the seat beside him. Xander's
head rested on his lap, dark waves ruffled by the breeze blowing through
the open window. Spike gently smoothed the thick hair, letting his
fingers brush the soft skin of the boy's throat; comforting blood heat
beating just beneath the surface. 

He was worried. Sunnyhell was sodding jinxed, every time he went there
something disastrous happened. Before he'd been prepared to take his
chances. Now he had Xander, and he was *not* willing to risk the whelp.
He cursed The Powers That Be for the hundred and fifty-ninth time. He
and the boy didn't fucking need this. Not now. There were still certain
....
....'things' he needed to tell Xander, and he didn't want the Slayer or her

Watcher sticking their bloody oars in. 

Spike carded his fingers back through the boy's dark hair. He wound a
sable strand tight around his finger, binding it to him. Cold eyes
glittered
with possessive fervour.<Mine> he thought silently. Just let the bitch and
her flaming friends try to come between them, he'd rip her heart out first.
His fingers tightened reflexively and Xander's eyes fluttered open.

"Ow," he mumbled softly.

Spike released his hold on the boy's hair at once, soothing the abused
patch of scalp.

Xander wiggled over onto his back, staring sleepily up at the vampire.
"Are we nearly there yet ?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "Soon," he muttered.

Xander had no trouble picking up the less than enthusiastic tone. "You
okay with this ?" he asked quietly.

"What, risking my neck to save a soddin' *Slayer* ? Oh yeah, I'm just
peachy with it."

Xander sat up. "You didn't have to come."

"Like I was gonna let you wander off with nancy boy and the half-breed,"
said Spike irritably.

"I can look out for myself," said Xander.

Spike shot him a look. "Sure you can, pet. I mean, your track record
speaks for itself."

Xander's jaw tightened and he blurted out the words without thinking,
"As I remember it, *I* wasn't the one playing Doctors and Nurses with
Dr Frankenstein the last time we were here."

Blue eyes narrowed dangerously. "And who's fuckin' fault was that,"
Spike snarled. "If the friggin' Watcher hadn't left me trussed up like a
sacrificial goat-" 

Xander turned away, Spike grabbed his arm and jerked him back. 

Spike stared into hurt brown eyes and his anger dissolved. "Fuck," he
muttered. "Look, I'll help your mates, but then we leave, right ?"

Xander read the anxious concern in his lover's face and his own anger
drained away. He nodded. "Okay."

"And," Spike continued, "you keep away from those fuckin' relatives of
yours. I don't want you anywhere near 'em. You got that ?"

That was a definite order. Xander thought about it briefly and decided it
was one he was happy to obey. "Got it." He leaned back against his lover,
who put an arm around his shoulders and planted a firm kiss on top of his
head.

"You stay close to me, no matter what happens, right, and do as I bloody
well tell you."

"Yes, master," Xander grumbled half-heartedly. Truth be told, he rather
enjoyed Spike in major possessive mode. Though he was anxious as to
what the others were going to make of it. <Will, *please* understand> he
thought desperately. He realised Spike was still talking. "W-what ?"

Spike snorted. "I *said* you and me are gonna have to have a little chat
when we get to Sunnyhell. There's some stuff you need to know," he
admitted reluctantly.

Xander's stomach knotted. "What stuff ?" he asked worriedly.

"Later," said Spike firmly. "When we're alone." He looked pointedly at
the pair in the front seat, who had tactfully ignored the earlier argument.

Already tense and on edge, Xander's panic levels shot up a couple of
notches. He spent the rest of the journey chewing his bottom lip and
trying *not* to think about 'stuff'.......it didn't work.

Part Four  

Despite its unpleasant associations, the mansion was the only feasible
place for them to stay. Angel got the generator going and built up the
fire, giving them heat and light. Doyle swept out some of the leaves and
propped the slightly damp mattresses near the open hearth to air. They'd
bought a few blankets and he piled them up on the table. "Help yourself,"
he told Xander, who grabbed a couple and trailed after Spike.

The younger vampire had bagged the 'master suite'. Xander shivered, 
the room was dark and cold. Spike noticed his discomfort and with the
assistance of a lighter and a touch of J.D quickly got a fire going. The
flames set shadows dancing around the bare stone walls.

Spike then pushed the door shut and drew Xander over to a high backed
chair. He gently pushed Xander into it and seated himself by the side of
the hearth, well away from the open flames.

"Time for that 'little chat', huh," Xander guessed, less than thrilled 
about the prospect. He watched Spike take a long swill of J.D and felt 
his chest tighten. Dutch courage wasn't something Spike usually needed.
When the vampire handed him the flask he snatched it and took a deep
gulp. "-kay," he gasped hoarsely,"hit me with it."

Spike nodded. "Right," he said slowly, and then didn't say anything else.

Xander waited, torn between wanting to know....and wanting to leap 
up and run out of the room. A kind of fatalistic curiosity finally got the
better of him. "Spike,*please.*"

Spike took another swig of J.D and lit a cigarette. "Remember what I
said before," he began, " 'bout you changin' and stuff ?"

Xander nodded warily, his hands tightening on the armrests.

"There's a bit more to it."

<Oh god> "Wh-what ?"

"You know you said how'as you could see in the dark a bit ?"

Another hesitant nod.

"Well that's part of it," said Spike.

"Part of what ?" Xander asked.

Spike took a long, hard tug on his cigarette. "It'll get better," he said
cryptically.

Xander was confused. "*What* will get better ?" Then he understood.
Brown eyes widened. "Me being able to see...in the dark ? I'll get better
at it ?"

Spike nodded. "Yeah, and some...er...other...stuff"

Xander lost all patience, panic colouring his voice. "Enough with the
man of mystery routine, all right ! Just tell me, *what stuff* ?" 

"There's other terms for a Consort," said Spike quietly. "Some call 'em
'Shades' or 'half-kinds'."

"Half-kinds ?" Xander repeated, shaking his head in bewilderment. "Half
of what ?"

Spike looked at him, eyes both sad and hopeful. "Half like me."

Xander stared. "Li-like...y-you." He closed his eyes as a rush of dizziness
washed over him. When he opened them, Spike was still watching him
with the same hopeful sadness. He realised Spike expected him to freak. 
Xander swallowed hard past the lump in his throat and exhaled deeply.
"Okay," he said, "tell me the rest." 

"You're not turnin' into a vampire," Spike assured him. "I didn't lie about
that. You're just...not....quite...the same as you were. We share certain
...traits."

"Traits," said Xander. "Like seeing in the dark, a fondness for the old O
negative. Those kind of *traits* ?" He was trying very hard not to lose it
completely.

"Pretty much," Spike muttered, lowering his gaze.

"Oh no," said Xander sliding off his chair onto the floor beside his lover.
"You don't get away with going all closed-mouthed on me. Angel's the
silent broody one, remember."

Spike stubbed out his cigarette on the stone flags and shrugged his
shoulders. "You know most of the rest," he said quietly. "You can sense
where I am and I can find you. You have a taste for blood. It'll never be a
proper hunger, but you'll get to like it more, especially mine. You can see
in the dark a bit already, as I said, that'll get stronger. So will your
other
senses."

He cupped Xander's face gently. "That's what they mean, when they say
'Half-kinds' or 'Shades', you'll be a shade of me."

"Part vampire," Xander murmured under his breath. He stared at Spike,
"That what you mean, right. I'll be part vampire."

"Sort of," Spike admitted. "You won't be dead and you won't have a
demon in you, but you're touched by it and it'll change you."

Xander pulled away from Spike's touch, missing the flash of hurt that
darted across his lover's face. He needed some space. He needed to think.
He stood on shaky legs and crossed the room. He was...changing ? Okay,
in all fairness, he'd already known that, he just hadn't known in what way
or what into - now he did. 

He spun back round to face his lover. "I won't lose my soul ?"

Spike shook his head. "No."

"Why should I believe you ?" Xander asked flatly. 

Spike stared. "Because I love you," he said hoarsely.

Xander pursed his lips thoughtfully. "You said before I could stop, but it
would be like going cold turkey. Is there a point when I won't be able to
stop. When I'm changed for good ?"

Spike nodded.

Xander drew in a shaky breath. "Am I there yet ?"

Spike shook his head. "No, not yet." 

"But I'm close ?" Xander guessed.

Another nod.

"And if I said I want to stop ?" Xander asked.

Spike stiffened and remained silent.

"Spike ?"

"What ? !" Spike snarled. "You want me to say I'll let you go ? *No*! 
No fuckin' way. You're *mine*. I won't turn you, but I'm not given you 
up !" His face slipped into its vampiric visage as he lost control. Gold
eyes narrowed in confusion when Xander smiled.

"Good," said Xander softly, "because I don't ever want you to."

"Huh ?"

Xander came back to sit on the stone floor beside his lover. "I admit, this
all scares the wiggins out of me," he confessed, "but I *want* you. So
I...I
guess I can deal with it." He kissed Spike, running his tongue lightly over
chilled lips. He drew back. "But I have to know," he continued, "I have 
to know that won't just take off. I don't think I could handle this on my
own-"

"-you don't have to," said Spike fiercely. "I'm not going anywhere. I told
you that."

"I know," said Xander. "I....I just need the reminder now and then. I keep
thinking this is one of those weird dreams I used to have, and I'll wake up
on the floor of my basement to find that a shelf's fallen on my head."

"Not gonna happen," said Spike decisively. "Now bring them lips back
over 'ere." He slipped his hand around the back of Xander's neck and
drew the boy's mouth back to touch his. They kissed, slow and deep,
taking the time to taste one another. Spike broke it, shrugging out of his
duster and laying it down on the floor. "Get them off," he ordered,
pointing at Xander's shirt.

"The age of romance really is dead," Xander quipped unfastening his
buttons.

Spike growled. "I'll give you bloody romance. We're about to fuck in
front of an open fire, how more bloody romantic do you want it ?"

Xander slipped off his shirt and pretended to give the question some
thought. "Hmm, let me see. Chocolates would be nice. I can pass on the
flowers-Hmph !" The rest of the sentence was lost as Spike pushed him
down onto the duster and proceeded to suck the air out of his lungs.
Needle sharp fangs pierced his tongue, making him gasp into the kiss. 

Then Spike sliced into his and Xander's mouth was filled with blood.

He murmured, swirling his tongue through the coppery heat, suckling on
Spike's to bring forth more. Cold finger's brushed his nipples, making
them tighten. Xander arched up, thrusting his groin against Spike's,
feeling their erections rub through the layers of denim. He whimpered,
wanting to be skin to skin. 

Spike responded to his wordless plea, tearing away from the kiss just
long enough to remove the rest of their clothing; the firelight cast their
bodies in bronze and shadow. Wet kisses and playful nips were trailed
across Xander's skin. He twitched as Spike touched his scars.

Spike soothed away his distress, whispering endearments as he kissed
and nuzzled his way down Xander's torso. The vampire placed a long,
loving lick down the straining erection, lapping the precum off the tip. 

Xander groaned when his lover suddenly stopped, but before he could
protest, his lover handed him a well-used tube of lube.

"You do me," said Spike, rolling over onto his belly.

Dancing flames gave alabaster skin a strange iridescence. Xander stroked
his fingers down the lean back, feeling the tiny bumps and ridges of
century old scarring. He leaned forward and kissed them gently, running
his tongue along the web of whip marks. Spike purred. Xander felt the
reverberations and smiled. He moved lower, lightly nipping one taut
buttock cheek, drawing the flesh between his teeth.

Spike made a strange yowling noise and Xander sank his teeth in a little
harder. Spike squirmed and scratched his nails across the stone flags.
Xander sat back on his haunches and uncapped the lube. He pressed on
slicked finger into his lover. Spike's purr deepened to a low pleasured
rumble. "You are such a slut," Xander teased, as Spike rocked back 
onto his hand.

"Shut up and fuck me," Spike growled, his voice rough with need.

"Yes, master." Xander slipped another finger into his lover's body. He
was determined not to rush this. It felt forever since they'd shared this
intimacy. He craved it with a desperation that should have frightened him
but only fuelled a growing sense of urgency. Spike was so tight; satin
muscles gripped his fingers as he thrust slowly in and out, listening to
his
lover's mewls and moans.

"X-Xander..."

Xander heard the plea in Spike's voice and slipped his fingers out, using
them to prepare his own aching flesh. He bit his injured tongue, the sharp
pain taking the edge off his arousal. He wanted this to last. He moved to
lie over his lover and guided his erection into the tight opening. Spike
lay
still as he pushed in, millimetre by millimetre. Xander felt the tremors
that rippled through his lover's body.

Finally he was buried all the way inside, his whole body flush with
Spike's. He rubbed his face against the satin skin, rotating his hips
slowly. Spike made a strangled sound and quivered under him. "Good ?"
Xander whispered.

"A-again," Spike ordered.

Xander moved his hips again and Spike arched his neck back and
growled. Xander bit his lip, suddenly back on that knife edge. He stopped
moving, trying to hold back, but the need had taken over and he began to
thrust deeply, sliding in and out of the tight channel. Spike caught the
rhythm and moved with him. Xander felt the pressure building and he
drove in even deeper, whimpering with need. 

He sank his teeth into Spike's back, feeling them slice bluntly through the
vampire's skin. With a shuddering gasp he came, his release tearing
through him, spilling hot seed deep into his lover's cool body. Spike
instantly thrust back hard and howled his own completion.

Xander barely had time to gather his breath when Spike moved. His
softening flesh slipped free as Spike turned them and Xander suddenly
found himself under his lover. He cried out as Spike's fangs cut through
his skin, plunging into his throat. 

His blood answered the vampire's silent summons, hurrying to meet the
ivory daggers. Xander could feel tiny scorching rivulets, trickling hotly
down his chest. Spent flesh twitched as the threads of renewed arousal
snaked through him. He could hear the pounding of his heart, feel the
pull of his blood. But there was no flashback, no fear. 

Penn had plundered his body, stealing his blood, tearing open his throat.
The pain had been unbearable, an ice cold agony that had him screaming
in silent terror.

This was white-fire, blistering heat. Liquid magma pooling beneath his
skin. Desire and need on a primeval level. The progression of a bond
outside human judgment or understanding. Blind instinct carried them,
blood and sex the tools of binding. Change carried back and forth, no
longer purely vampire and man.

Spike tore free and Xander cried out again at the loss. Exhausted, they
huddled together, limbs entwined, wanting to prolong the closeness.

"Lo-love...you," Xander murmured. Spike purred and tenderly lapped the
blood from
his throat.

Part Five  

The thick stone walls didn't quite contain the muffled sounds of pleasure,
and when Spike's echoing cry rang out Doyle grimaced, shifting uneasily.
He glanced across to where Angel stood, checking through the contents
of the weapons bag. Unlike Doyle, he didn't react to the eerie howl, and
not for the first time, the young man was left wondering just how close
the ties were between his lover and the other vampire.

Doyle had been telling the truth when he said he knew something about
the bond between a Sire and childe. Unfortunately, that *something*
wasn't much. Vampires weren't big on sharing intimate details of their
existence with outsiders. Most so called 'facts' were suppositions based
on hearsay. 

He did know it was probably the closest vampires got to kith and kin, 
and that sex, submission, and domination all played a part. That pretty
much covered his knowledge. Though it was more than enough for him
to work out what was going on that night, even before Angel and Spike
emerged from the rooftop ~ bloody, dishevelled, reeking of smoke and
sex. 

Why hadn't he been more upset ? Why hadn't he been hurt ? Shouldn't 
he at least have been *slightly* jealous ? So he knew something about
the bond they shared; surely that didn't mean he couldn't resent it. Why
didn't he ?

It unsettled him, this easy acceptance. Why wasn't he raging ? It sure as
hell wasn't because his feelings didn't run deep enough - he loved Angel
so much it hurt. Nor was it a martyr's acceptance. Neither could it be
attributed to some kind of level-headed maturity; not when thoughts of
Angel and a certain beautiful young Slayer tore holes in him. 

So what the hell was it, and why on earth did loving Angel make him feel
bizarrely protective of Spike and Xander ? Doyle shook his head in 
disgust. *Protective*, yeah, right. Denial was a wonderful thing. 

He felt totally lost. What was going on here ? He had *never* harboured
a secret fetish for homicidal vampires, and Xander was just a small town
kid with some serious self-confidence issues.............or so he tried to
tell
himself. Though if that was the case, why was having to struggle so hard
*not* to think about what was happening on the other side of that wall ? 

"Doyle ?"

He jumped a touch guiltily, and turned to face the vampire. Angel had set
the weapons out on the table. It was an impressive display of hardware,
from standard wooden stakes to repeat-action crossbows. Doyle smiled.
"You remember the air to air missiles ?"

Angel's mouth twitched as he shook his head in mock irritation. "Damn, I
knew I'd forgotten something."

Doyle crossed the room to join his lover. His fingers trailed down the
well-worn handle of a fighting axe; he wondered if it was the same one
that had put the small, crescent shaped scar on his forehead. "We really
gonna need all this stuff ?"

"Sorcerers rarely travel unprotected. These should take care of them." 
Angel picked up a knife in a plain leather sheaf. "This has silver worked
into the blade. Take it. Keep it on you at all times."

"Sleep with it under my pillow, yeah," Doyle half-joked.

Angel was deadly serious. "That's the general idea." 

Doyle raised his eyebrows but took the knife, placing it carefully inside
his jacket. "Hope the cops round here don't pull random searches, cos 
I'm gonna have real trouble persuadin' 'em I'm carrying this to fight off
some fella's evil henchmen."

"Sunnydale's finest have perfected the skill of turning a blind eye," said
Angel dryly. "They give speeding tickets and handout on the spot fines
for littering. That's pretty much it."

"Well you can hardly blame 'em," said Doyle. "I mean, it can't be much
fun, policin' a Hellmouth."

"No," said Angel softly. "Not much fun at all."

Doyle knew his lover was thinking of Buffy. "Does she know we're
coming ?"

Angel nodded. "Giles felt it was only fair to give her some warning. She
and Spike don't exactly get along."

"Yeah, I kinda noticed they were throwin' off sparks back in L.A. I was 
surprised when she left so peaceably. I guess Xander must have been
pretty persuasive, yeah."

"He's in love," said Angel simply. "Buffy could see that."

"Like she'll see this," said Doyle.

Angel drew the younger man against him. "She'll know something," he
agreed, "but I doubt she'll work out all the details on her own. If you
really want to wait-"

Doyle shook his head. "-no, you're right. She deserves the truth."

Angel kissed him softly. "I love you."

Doyle managed a faint smile. "Love you back."

They returned to the kiss; coiled heat rising as lips and tongues danced,
slow and deep. Fingers tangled through thick, dark hair, each seeking to
draw the other closer. They reluctantly parted as a door opened. It was
Spike. He strolled into the room carrying his duster. They watched as he
grabbed a tattered cushion from the couch and used it to clean a sticky,
whitish fluid from the lining of his coat. 

He spoke without looking up from his task. "We goin' to the Watcher's
then, or are you two just gonna stand there and play with your weapons
all night ?" 

Angel ignored his childe's lecherous smirk. "It might be better if Doyle
and I go alone." 

Spike threw the cushion aside and slipped on his duster. "Why ? They
knows we're here. I'm not lurking in the soddin' shrubbery while you lot
sit chatting. 'Sides, Xander wants to see 'em."

"All right," Angel agreed reluctantly, "but remember, I don't want any
trouble. You do as I say, when I say it. Understood ?"

The younger vampire's mouth tightened, nevertheless he nodded, albeit
somewhat sullenly. Xander appeared in the doorway behind him; fresh
puncture wounds on his neck. 

Angel rolled his eyes. He glared at his childe. "Do you *ever* think ?" 

Spike growled and pulled Xander toward him. 

Looking confused and mildly anxious, Xander's fingers moved to the
mark on his throat - the reason for Angel's displeasure. Turning up at
Giles' wearing a bitemark was probably a bad idea. 

Spike glared at his Sire, utterly unrepentant. 

Angel gave up. Running a hand through his hair he sighed wearily. "Get
in the car, both of you."

Spike threaded his fingers through Xander's and marched out the front
door with an insolent sneer on his face. 

Doyle shot his lover a sympathetic grin and followed them.

"I am way too old for this," Angel muttered. He snatched a crossbow
from the table; sorely tempted to fire it into the backside of his
eternally
trying childe. 

"Way too old," he reiterated as he stepped outside. Spike had pinned
Xander against the car and was ravishing the boy with gleeful abandon.
Not that Xander was putting up much of a struggle. "Spike, let Xander
get in the car." Neither moved. "Now!" Angel barked. 

Spike released Xander with obvious reluctance. The youth almost slid 
into the gravel, Spike grabbed him neatly with one hand, yanking the
door open with the other. He bundled the boy inside before climbing in
after him. Doyle waited until the back door slammed shut before getting
into the front passenger seat. Angel stowed the cross bow in the boot and
got in. The car tore away down the drive and headed into town.

Part Six  

There was more to Spike's attentiveness than a desire for a swift grope.
He could literally taste the fear and anxiety coming off the youth, and he
didn't care for it one little bit. Figuring that the best way to calm
Xander
was to distract him, he fastened his lips to his lover's and didn't let up
until they pulled up outside the Watcher's.

As soon as Angel stopped, Spike helped a flushed and rumpled Xander
out of the car. He propped him against it and straightened the youth's
clothing - fastening buttons and smoothing down thick, unruly hair.
"You all right ?" he asked, concerned at the panic swirling behind dark
brown eyes.

Xander nodded stiffly. "Sure. Fine." 

Spike just gave him a look and Xander sagged visibly. 

"I don't think I can do this," he admitted. "I mean, what am I supposed 
to say. I should have written first, or phoned, or begged Buffy to tell
them. You know, give them a chance to-" His babbling was cut short
when Spike put a hand over his mouth.

"Breathe," the vampire instructed.

Xander breathed deeply through his nose. 

When it evened out, Spike drew his hand away. He tilted his head toward
the house. "They're your friends, yeah ?"

Xander nodded.

"So figure they're probably gonna screech and flap about this. Be ready
for it. Goggle-eyed hysteria ain't gonna help us here." 

Xander understood. "I have to show I know what I'm doing."

"That's the idea, pet. Course, they won't believe it for a minute, but 

it's better than you raving and shouting." Spike glanced at Angel who 
stood waiting impassively. "Just don't be too quiet, we don't need another
broody pain in the arse."

"Be myself, right," said Xander. "Okay, I can do that." He turned toward
the house. "Right, just be myself, don't panic. Be myself."

"Er, pet."

Xander looked at his lover.

"You might want to watch the loony tune rambling," Spike suggested.
"Talking to yourself doesn't give a real good impression."

Xander gave a wobbly smile. "Actually, I've pretty much always done
that. You're just the only one who listens."

Spike regarded the youth solemnly, before dropping a quick kiss on his
mouth. "Come on," he said quietly. "Time to face the bloody music." He
held out his arm. Xander smiled weakly and looped his through it. They
walked up to the door together and knocked loudly.

************************************************

Xander wondered if he was going to barf. He clutched Spike's arm tightly
and listened to the sound of footsteps moving toward the door. It swung
open and he blinked as light streamed out. Giles stood, a large red book
in his hand, and a look of mild consternation on his face.

"Xander, and...erm...the rest of you." The Watcher frowned at Spike and
then sighed heavily. "You'd better come in."

Angel offered a quiet 'Thank you', whilst Doyle nodded. Spike simply
barged past the Watcher, tugging an unhappy Xander along with him. 

Xander stumbled into the room. He faced its occupants with a distinctly
nervous smile. Willow was sitting on the couch; she jumped up, ignoring
the others, and hurried over to him. He peered at her from beneath the
bangs of his fringe. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

She stood, nibbling her lip - then suddenly threw her arms around his
neck, pulling him into a hug. "Don't you *ever* do that again, Xander
Harris." 

Still holding onto Spike, Xander wrapped his free arm around her back
and inhaled the sweet spicy fragrance of her hair. "I won't," he promised.
"I didn't mean to leave like that, not without saying anything. It.......it
just
sort of happened. I had to go, I'm sorry, I really am sorry."

He felt Spike squeeze his arm gently and he was grateful for the silent
support. He'd known Willow must have been worried sick and he hated
himself for hurting her. She was, and always would be his best friend. He
made a promise never to hurt her again. He just hoped he could keep it 
with what he was about to disclose.

She eventually drew back. "Are you okay ?" she asked searching his 
face anxiously. "Buffy said you were living with Angel." She suddenly
seemed to notice the others in the room. "Oh, hello, Angel."

Angel smiled. "Willow." He took the opportunity to introduce the young
man next to him. "This is Doyle."

"Hi," said Doyle.

Willow smiled shyly. "Hi." Then she looked back at Xander, blinking
sharply as she noticed for the first time that her friend appeared to have
a
vampire attached to his arm, and not just any vampire....but - "Spike,"
she squeaked.

"Red," Spike replied, deliberately running his free hand down Xander's
arm.

"You're-you're touching Xander. Why are you touching Xander ? Xander,
why is he touching you ?" Her eyes were wide and nervous. 

"It's okay, Will," said Buffy, coming forward to stand beside her. "I think
that's why Xander is here." She looked at him. "Right, Xander ?"

Xander felt the knots in his stomach tighten but he nodded. "R-right."

Giles frowned as he saw Xander's fingers blindly search out Spike's.
"Xander, why exactly did you leave Sunnydale ?" 

Xander lowered his gaze. "Because Spike's not safe here," he said
quietly.

"And that concerns you because ?" Giles' voice sounded slightly strained.

Xander glanced at Angel and Doyle, who offered him encouraging nods.
He then looked into Willow's puzzled, worried face. "Because I'm in love
with him," he replied simply. 

Willow's face crumpled. "You're....you're in...love...with..with...?"

"With Spike," Xander supplied gently. 

"Xander-" Giles began.

Xander cut him off. "-I know, I can't be in love with him. He's an evil,
soulless vampire who's tried to kill us all." Xander shrugged. "I know all
that. It doesn't change the way I feel. I love him, one hundred percent the
real deal."

Giles turned to Angel in the hope of finding some sanity. He was out of
luck. 

"It's true. I know it's not what you want to hear," Angel looked at Buffy,
"but sometimes we can't have what we want."

"Very poetic," Giles snapped. "It doesn't hide the fact that a seventeen
year old boy is somehow involved with a century old demon," He turned
to Xander. "Xander, this has to stop. You have absolutely no idea what
you are getting into. There are real dangers here, not even counting the
obvious ones."

Willow had remained silent all this time, now a look of dismay settled on
her pale face. "Dangers ?" she repeated.

Buffy also jumped on the word. "What dangers ?" she demanded.

Xander felt a cold edge of panic slice through his false calm. He should
have guessed the G-man would know something. He really didn't want 
to sit down and discuss his sex-life with everyone. That horrified thought
made him realise something else - while admittedly they were freaking out
about him getting cuddly with Spike, they weren't acting even remotely
surprised about his other 'little' revelation.

"Forget the danger thing. I'm having the panic attack of all time telling
you I'm gay, and no one's saying anything about it." He stared at them.
"Why ? This is a big deal. Okay, so it's not *as* big a deal as the other
stuff. It's still big. Say something." He quashed the childish urge to
stamp
his foot at the end.

"You tell 'em, pet," said Spike with laughter in his voice.

"Spike, shut up," said Buffy. "Xander, it's not important now-"

"No," he cut her off. "It might not be..be...important to you, but this is
huge for me. I..." he looked at them, pleading for their understanding. "I
*need* to know how you feel."

"You heard the whelp, answer him. Or don't you have the balls to give
him the truth." Spike stared challengingly at them.

Giles sighed and sat back on his desk. He removed his glasses and
pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. "I...I'm really not sure what you
want me to say. My concerns don't arise from your...erm...orientation,
Xander. I have no judgements on that matter." 

"But you don't like it," said Xander coldly.

Giles frowned and looked at him. "That's not what I said. What I dislike
is the idea of your being involved with a merciless killer. Gender has no
part in my decision."

"So you're cool with the whole..guy, guy thing ? Xander asked.

Giles sighed again. "Yes, as I said, that doesn't concern me. Not if it's
what you really want." He hesitated then added, "I admire you for having
the courage follow your desires."

Xander felt some of the crushing panic subside. He turned to Willow.
"Will ?"

She blushed and ducked her head. 

"Willow ?" he pressed. "Please, I need to know you're still my friend."

Shocked she looked up. "Of course I'm still your friend." She socked him
lightly on the arm. "That's for even *thinking* I wouldn't be."

"So why the sudden hot flush ?" Xander asked. If anything the young
woman grew even pinker. "Willow ?"

"Ihaveagirlfriend."

"What ?"

Spike translated. "She said she has a girlfriend." He grinned at the
mortified redhead. "Good on you, girl. That pretty morsel of a witch,
right ?"

Willow nodded.

Xander stared wide-eyed. "You....you...have a *girl*, girlfriend. As in
Tara ? As in, you two *date* ?"

Another nod. "I wanted to tell you, I just wasn't sure how." She offered
him a slight smile.

He grinned and released Spike's hand to enfold her in a two armed hug.
"I'm happy for you, Will. Really I am." He pulled back and looked at her.
"You *are* happy ?"

Pink cheeked, her smile widened.

"Yep," said Xander. "That's a happy Willow all right." He hugged 
her again and then let her go.

"So, we're all happy then, yeah ?" asked Spike.

"Not exactly," said Giles in a chilled tone. "There's still the small
matter
of your involvement. How deep is it ? Are you simply amusing yourself,
or should Xander be more worried ?"

Blue became gold as Spike's features shifted. "Shut your fuckin' mouth,"
he growled. 

Xander tried to calm his rattled lover. "Sssh," he murmured softly,"we're
supposed to be playing it cool remember." He stroked Spike's arm feeling
the tremors running through tensed muscles. Spike was seriously pissed.
Xander turned on Giles. "Look, I don't know what you think you know,
and it doesn't matter, because I'm not going to talk about it. I'm sorry,
but
this really isn't any of your business."

"No ?" said Giles. He walked over to the bookshelf and withdrew a
battered text. "Then perhaps you'd better borrow this. It's a journal,
written by a young woman living in Paris in the late seventeenth century.
It seems that she was once *fortunate* enough to be 'courted' by a
vampire. She noted down some of what occurred. You might find it
interesting."

"I doubt it," said Xander flatly. "I know you think I don't know what I'm
getting into here. Just another case of 'poor dumb Xander', right ? Well
you're wrong. I know. Spike's told me. So just lay off with the menacing
undertones, okay."

"Will someone please tell me what you two are talking about," said
Buffy. Her mouth had a very familiar twist to it. She strongly disliked
being left out of the loop.

Giles chose to ignore Xander's pleading look and Spike's hostile stare. He
spoke softly and sadly. "If Xander chooses to remain with Spike
he'll...change."

"Change ?" Buffy repeated.

Xander willed the man to stay silent..

"Giles, *tell* me," said Buffy insistently.

Willow saw the sorrow in Xander's face and turned to Buffy. "Buffy,
maybe we shouldn't-"

Buffy ignored her, pinning Giles with the full force of her gaze. 

"Oh for fucks sake," Spike growled. "Tell the chit what you think you
soddin' know."

"S-Spike ?" Xander looked worriedly at his lover.

"They'll find out soon enough," Spike explained. "They might as well
hear it now."

Reluctantly Xander agreed. He was grateful when Angel and Doyle
moved to stand with them, in a less than subtle display of solidarity.

Giles looked uncomfortable. "I.....I don't know exactly," he admitted.

Spike snorted and muttered, "Tosser."

Giles sat up straight and replaced his glasses, switching into official
'Watcher mode'. "The journal was written by a Louisa Macon. She was
from a respectable family and was well-educated for a young woman of
her time. However, in her eighteenth year she became convinced that she
was being stalked by a "foul spectre", who only showed himself to her in
the dark of night."

Giles opened the book and carefully leafed through the yellowed pages.
"She writes of finding him in her room when the household had all gone
to bed. She says he carried her out into the streets as silent as any ghost
and took her to a fine house somewhere within the city. He gave her wine
and made her dance with him in a room lit only by moonlight. He always
returned her to her bed before dawn, and no one seemed aware that she
had ever left it."

"What happened to her ?" Buffy asked, breaking the spell that had fallen.

Giles looked at Xander. "She went mad. She writes of feeling a great evil
flowing through her veins and of having committed sinful acts. When she
repeatedly tried to harm herself, her family lost hope and had her locked
away. The last line she wrote reads - "....I feel him inside me, even when
he is not close by. He has crept inside my soul and may God save me, for
I cannot drive him out. May God forgive the wickedness that now resides
within me, for I cannot."

A coldness had settled over the room. Buffy turned to Angel, her face
hard. "You knew about this."

"Yes," he said simply.

"And what ?" said Buffy. "It just slipped your mind when I was in L.A ?"

"No," said Angel, "it wasn't my place to tell you."

"Wait," said Giles, "Buffy, you knew about this ?" He sounded appalled.

Buffy's tried to explain. "I...I knew some of it. I knew Xander was with
Spike, but I didn't know any of this other stuff," she added quickly.

"You knew ?" said Willow in dismay. "Why didn't you tell me ?"

"Because it wasn't..." Buffy stopped and then continued awkwardly, "it
wasn't my place to tell you." She glanced at Angel.

"She's right," said Xander. "So's Angel." He sighed. "The thing is, I....I
didn't want you to know because I knew you'd freak. Look, I'm sorry
about what happened to Miss whatever her name was, but who's to say
she wouldn't have gone loopy any way. Maybe she came from a long line
of deranged women. Now I'm not saying I come from good stock, but the
only certified crazy in my family was my great uncle John, and since he
got blown up in the war, I think that's kinda allowed. What I mean is, I'm
not her. I'm not French, and I'm not female, and I'm not mad."

"Xander, are you trying to say that you know something about these
'changes' that Miss Macon wrote about ?" Giles asked.

Xander ignored the sick feeling in his belly and nodded. "Yes."

Giles stared at him in disbelief. "Xander, despite your manner on
occasion, you are by no means lacking in intelligence. What on earth are
you thinking in undertaking this....this *insanity*."

Xander didn't answer straight away, he let his gaze travel around the
room before settling back on Giles. "I don't know how to explain it. It's
like I told Buffy, this just feels *right* to me. Maybe it is dangerous and
crazy, maybe I'll lose my mind like..like"- he pointed at the book -" like
little Miss Dear Diary. All I know right now is I *need* this." He looked
at Spike, smiling into fierce golden eyes. "I need him."

"Xander," Giles began awkwardly. "I....I know things are..erm... difficult
for you at home, but this isn't the answer. You're only seventeen, you
have your whole life in front of you-"

"-yes and it's *my* life," Xander cut in.

Spike's mouth twitched, regarding his lover with frank admiration. The
whelp was handling all the hassle pretty well.

Buffy still hadn't finished; though her ire was directed more toward
Angel than Spike. "You can't expect me to just step aside from this."

"So what will you do ?" asked Angel. "Kill Spike ? You know how that
would go down."

Buffy's expression said she did. If she wanted to take out Spike she'd
have to go through Angel, Xander and Doyle to reach him.

"I guess you could lock Xander up," Angel continued, "but how long 
for ? A month ? A year ? Ten years ? What's the standard healing time for
a broken heart ?"

Buffy stared helplessly, her hands bunched into fists. Her Slayer instincts
were going off the scale, but all her other senses told her Angel was
right.
There was no way to separate Xander from Spike without using brute
force, and if she did that, she would only succeed in hurting Xander. "All
right," her voice was low and angry, "just what are these 'changes' ?"

Spike stiffened and Xander paled. However, it was Angel who calmly
answered her. "All you need to know is he won't be hurt by it, and despite
what Mademoiselle Macon wrote, Spike's demon cannot touch Xander's
soul. Whatever 'evil' she spoke of infecting her was of her own mind, not
anything of this."

"You haven't answered my question," said Buffy coldly. "*What*
changes ?"

"I've told you all I can," said Angel. "Anything else is up to Xander."

Buffy looked sharply at her friend.

He shook his head. "I...I can't, not yet."

"Xander-" she urged.

"Buffy, please," he said quietly, "later, okay. I'm fine. This is nothing
bad,
I promise."

Reluctantly she nodded. "Just remember, if you *ever* need my help-"

"-I've got it," said Xander quietly. He smiled at her. "You don't know 
how much I appreciate that. I'm glad you still care."

Tears blurred her eyes. "Of course I still care, idiot." She came forward
and as he stepped away from Spike she hugged him. "You're my
friend, Xander. Nothing changes that." He hugged her back, unable to
find the words. Willow shuffled forward and placed her arms around
them both as best she could. The three friends shared a tight group hug,
before stepping away, rubbing at suspiciously bright eyes.

Xander turned to face Giles. "G-man ?" he asked hoarsely.

Giles sighed. "I thought I asked you not to call me that." He held out his
hand. Xander frowned but took it. Giles held it as he looked into the
boy's face. "I share Buffy's sentiments, this is wrong, and it's dangerous.
However, you are correct in saying that it is your life and your choice to
make. I can only say that I hope, should you need our help, you won't
hesitate to seek it." He shook Xander's hand somewhat awkwardly and
then released it.

"I won't," said Xander, adding quickly, "I mean, I won't hesitate, not that
I won't ask."

Giles nodded and offered the boy a brief, tight smile. "I understand."

"Are we through gabbing now ?" said Spike irritably. "Only I thought we
were 'ere to kill some sorcerer chap. He'll have died of fuckin' boredom if
we carry on with this much longer."

Giles ignored the outburst and addressed Angel. "As I said earlier, there
hasn't been any reports of any unusual magical activity in the town or the
surrounding area. You may find you've had a wasted trip."

"I hope so," said Angel sincerely, "but Doyle's visions have a habit of
being right. We've struck a hundred percent with them so far."

"Visions ?" Giles repeated. He looked at Doyle. "You see portents of evil,
an advanced warning system so-to-speak ?"

"Well..er...not exactly," said Doyle. "I mean, yeah, I see the bad 
stuff before it goes down, but I don't get much in the way of insider
information."

Giles slipped deeper into Watcher/research mode. "And these visions, are
they like dreams or are you fully conscious when they occur ?"

"Oh, I'm conscious," said Doyle. "Though I hafta say, I'd be a lot happier 
if I weren't."

"Nasty, huh ?" Buffy guessed. She'd had her share of unpleasant
prophetic dreams, it was oddly comforting to meet someone who
suffered in a similar way.

"Oh yeah," said Doyle."We're talking *huge*, splitting headaches that
make me wanna take an axe to my head. Figuratively speakin' of course,"
he added quickly.

Angel unconsciously stepped closer to his lover. "We'd better get going.
We're going to stay in town for a few days at least. I'll let you know if
we
turn up anything." The silent question asked if they were prepared to
repay the courtesy.

There was a moments awkward silence, then Buffy spoke. "I'll keep an
eye out for anything 'unusual' while I'm patrolling. If I think it's worth
mentioning, I'll let you know." 

It wasn't the most gracious of offers but Angel understood how hard it
was for Buffy to make it. "We're staying up at the mansion if you need to
get in touch."

"You'd better lay low," Buffy warned. "From what I've heard the
Initiative are pretty keen to see Spike back in his cosy little cell."

A low rumbling growl said what Spike thought of that idea.

Xander was even less happy. "You won't tell them. I mean, you won't
mention anything to Riley, about us being here."

"I won't lie to him," Buffy stated firmly, "but I don't see any reason why
it
should come up. As long as you stay out of sight, he shouldn't know."

Spike was ready to leave. He tugged Xander toward the door, throwing it
open he turned back to face the room. "Well, it's been fun folks, and we
really hate to be going so soon, but you know how it is. Things to do,
people to kill, teenagers to fu-" Xander slapped a hand over his mouth
and pulled him out of the house. Angel and Doyle followed. 

Willow and Buffy stared after them, and then turned to look at one
another. Their eyebrows stole up toward their hairlines as they clearly
shared the same thought. 

A rather flustered Giles returned his book to the shelf. 

Part Seven  

By the time they reached the car, Xander was shaking so hard he could
barely stand. As his legs wobbled he leaned back against the passenger
door. "Oh god," he groaned, "that went well, right ?" He looked at them.
"I mean, no one's bleeding, no one's dusted, so that went well."

"Give them time," said Angel. "You knew they wouldn't just accept this
straight away." He added gently, "They might never be able to." 

"I...I know," said Xander softly. "I guess I just wanted them to be happy
that I'm finally happy." His mouth twisted bitterly. "Dumb, huh ?"

"Not dumb," said Doyle. "They're your mates, they wanna be happy for
yer, they're just worried that's all. I think that redhead was kinda
rooting
for yer."

Xander smiled. "Yeah, Will's cool." His smile turned slightly wondrous.
"I can't believe that she's....well....she and Tara are, you know,
together."
He flushed.

"It was bloody obvious," said Spike.

"You didn't know," said Xander.

"Did to."

"Didn't."

"Did-"

"Enough, children," said Angel, "just get in the car." Everyone piled in,
with Xander still demanding to know how his lover had known.

Spike grinned wolfishly. "I could smell 'em."

Xander's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "You could *smell* that they
liked each other ?" Clearly he didn't believe a word of it.

"Pheromones all over the bleedin' place, like two bitches in heat," said
Spike crudely.

Xander jabbed him. "Hey, don't talk about Willow like that."

"Sorry, pet," Spike purred, rubbing up against the boy. "I like Red, you
know that. She's a feisty little thing. If she's doing the witch good on
her."

Mollified, Xander allowed the vampire's fingers to slip under his shirt.
Truth be told, he was grateful for the distraction. The evening's events
had left him sick and headachy; Spike's cool touch was soothing. He 
sank down into his seat and closed his eyes.

"You all right, luv ?"

"Mmm," he answered, "juzzt..tired..."

"We're goin' home," said Spike. "Get you summat to eat, and tuck you up
in bed."

Xander opened one eye and smiled sleepily at his lover. "You take good
care of me," he acknowledged .

Spike pulled him closer. "Course I do, pet. Don't I always tell you, you're
mine. I take good care of what's mine." Feeling suddenly drained, Xander
curled up against him, resting his head on Spike's chest. The sound of the
engine, and the vampire's deep, rumbling purr calmed him - quietening
the frantic thoughts rattling around inside his head.

***********************************************

Angel had already made the decision to drive back to the mansion.
Tomorrow night would have to be soon enough to begin their
investigations. Xander was far from fully recovered, the boy needed to
rest. They all did. Even Spike was looking frayed around the edges, 
and quite frankly, so was he. Seeing Buffy always threw his feelings into
chaos. He still had no idea how he was going to break the news to her.
Would she even care ? Was it selfish of him to want her too ?

He glanced surreptitiously at his lover. Doyle looked pale but composed.
He knew the young man was unsettled by Buffy - the natural concerns of
a new love for a past one, and probably also his half demon instincts. All
of 'their kind' tended to feel threatened by the Slayer, such was the order
of things. Angel was concerned in that he hoped somehow the two would
at least be able to get along. He had no worries that Buffy would hurt the
young man.

He pulled up outside the mansion and got out, moving to open the back
door. He assisted Spike in man-handling a half asleep Xander out of the
car. The boy grumbled sleepily and then squawked as Spike lifted him up
and slung him over his shoulder. Doyle came to stand beside Angel and
the two watched the other pair enter the house.

"Ah, young love," Doyle joked.

Angel looked at him.

"What ?" Doyle backed away nervously. "Hey, no, Angel man. I-" His
voice rose as Angel swooped - snatching the young man up and slinging
him over one broad shoulder. Doyle wriggled and yanked on Angel's coat
to no avail. "This is unfair," he complained half-heartedly, "You've got
that whole vampire strength thing going for yer." 

"Yep," Angel agreed succinctly.

Doyle sighed dramatically. "Okay, you got me. Take me I'm yours." He
flung his arms outward like a tragic heroine. His amusement turned to a
shiver of anticipation when Angel replied simply,

"I intend to."

All Doyle could manage was a less than intelligent, "Oh." 

"Unless you have any objections ?" Angel asked.

"Objections ? Wha-? *No*, no objections," Doyle replied hurriedly.

"Good."

Angel dropped him lightly on the bed at the far side the room. The fire
had gone out, it was cold and Doyle was relieved when Angel set the
blaze going again. He watched his lover walk toward him, slipping off
his shirt en route. Doyle's breathing quickened as his gaze followed the
line and curve of skin and muscle. When Angel stood beside the bed
Doyle knelt up and reached for him, running his hands down the broad,
smooth chest.

A sudden worrying thought struck him. "What about-?"

"-they won't disturb us," said Angel.

Doyle nodded. Fair enough. He turned his attention back to what was in
front of him. He still had trouble accepting that all of this was real.
He'd
entertained fantasies of this for so long - though he had to say, the
reality
was even better. No amount of lustful contemplation could have given
him this - the unearthly perfection of Angel's body. 

He ran his fingers teasingly over the pinkish nipples, feeling them harden
and pebble beneath his touch. He leaned in and traced the same path with
his tongue, drawing a sensitive peak into his mouth. He suckled hard,
enjoying Angel's answering moan. Strong fingers wound through his hair,
pressing him closer. Doyle let his teeth graze the fleshy bud and Angel
bucked against him.

With a growl the vampire pushed him gently back onto the bed. Clothes
were shed with urgent haste. They came together with twin gasps as their
bodies brushed skin-to-skin. It was Doyle's turn to moan and whimper as
his lover's chilled tongue danced across his torso, swirling around his
navel and up to the nipples already stiffening in eager anticipation. Angel
paid the same loving attention to each, while his hands explored the rest
of Doyle's body.

When those same strong fingers found his erection, Doyle cried out 
and arched up. The fingers slipped away to stroke his legs and belly, 
then returned to gently rub the precum around the tip. Doyle moaned.
"Oh god." He was left dazed and bewildered when Angel drew away -
but only for a moment. The vampire reached down into the bag beside
the bed and withdrew a small flask of oil.

As Doyle watched, Angel poured some out into the palm of his hand.
The young man jumped when the hand encircled his erection, cold oil
and cool fingers moving slickly over his scorched skin. "Wha-?"

"I want you in me," said Angel hoarsely.

Doyle simply nodded. Angel handed him the flask and then rolled over.
Shaking, Doyle poured out some more of the oil, letting it trickle onto his
lover's back. He rubbed his fingers through the slippery pool, drawing it
over Angel's body. He traced the tattoo, following the lines and whorls. 

Angel's hands gripped the bedcovers as he purred softly.

Upon hearing that somewhat unexpected sound, Doyle blinked. Then he
slowly smiled. He let his fingers travel down the smooth lean flanks and
across the gentle curves of Angel's buttocks. The deep, rumbling grew
louder - like the purr of an intensely contented tiger. Doyle could feel
the
reverberations through his fingers. He poured out another handful of oil,
this time directing it between the taut cheeks. He drew his forefinger
down the crease, just nudging the tight opening.

The purr was interrupted by a strange growl - one of need, not anger.
Doyle responded to his lover's wordless urgings and his own rising
desire, pushing the finger forward until it slipped past the tight ring of
muscle. Angel gave a rumble of approval and gently rocked his hips
back, taking the slick digit in deeper. Doyle bit his lip to contain a
moan.
He eased a second finger in and carefully stretched the snug channel in
preparation.

He couldn't hold back any longer and he withdrew his hand, moving
himself into position. "Okay ?" he asked breathlessly. A growl was his
only answer and he sank forward. His teeth cut his lip as he fought the
urge to simply thrust into the silky tightness. His control was shattered
when Angel suddenly pushed back, plunging Doyle deep into his body.

Doyle clutched his lover's and tried to curb the need to come. He was
unable to stifle the desperate need to move and Angel met him thrust for
thrust. The tempo was ragged, drawing them both down into a spiral of
heat and near mindless desire. The crackling flames were soon joined by
breathy pants and low, growling rumbles, which grew louder and more
rapid as the rhythm increased.

Angel came first, thrusting back hard as he howled his release. Slick
muscles closed around Doyle's flesh and he gasped. With a shuddering
groan he bucked his hips and came, before sinking forward bonelessly. 
For a time they lay motionless, recovering from the rush of orgasm. Then
Doyle drew back, and moved to lay beside his lover. 

Angel rolled onto his side and pulled the young man close. "I love you,"
he murmured.

"Mmmm," Doyle agreed, wriggling closer and draping his leg across
Angel's.

Angel smiled and snagged the corner of a blanket, drawing it over them
both.

Part Eight  

Spike had dropped his sleepy lover onto the bed, but a pressing desire 
for food had soon brought Xander back to full consciousness. Since they
were supposed to be keeping a low profile, ordering take-out was pretty 
much a no-no. With that thought in mind, Spike had commandeered
Angel's microwave, stowing it in the car, before installing it in the
master
suite. He now watched with amusement as Xander lay on the floor - eyes
glued to the digital display. "Hungry, pet ?"

Xander's only reply was the speed with which he moved as the timer
pinged and he jabbed the door release. He pulled out the pot meal Spike
had bought for him from a gas station en route. Using the plastic fork he
shovelled the hot food into his mouth emitting little moans of happiness.
Spike gave him a bemused look and heated up his mug of blood before
joining his lover on the floor.

A fire flickered in the grate, along with the muted glow of a bedside
lamp, it gave the room with a warm, golden light. They ate in
companionable silence, until Xander set the empty tub aside and lay
down on his leather coat with a contented sigh. A howl from next door
made him sit up again rapidly. "Wha-?"

"Relax, pet. It's just Peaches working off a little steam."

Xander raised his eyebrows. "He's not normally so..er...vocal"

Spike shrugged. "She always gets his bloody knickers in a twist. He'll be
all right, demon-boy's givin' him a good seeing to."

Xander lay back down again, folding his arms behind his head. "What do
you think of him ?"

"Who ?" Spike trailed a finger round the inside of his mug to catch the
last of the sticky red fluid.

"Doyle."

"I don't," said Spike bluntly.

"You don't-"

"-think of him," Spike finished, a little too quickly.

Xander rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his elbow. "You
like him," he said smiling slyly.

Spike glowered. "He's all right," he muttered ungraciously.

"Yeah, he is," said Xander. "He makes Angel happy."

"Which is a soddin' miracle," said Spike. "It was hard enough keeping the
git in a good mood when he didn't have his fuckin' soul."

"Angelus had good moods ?" Xander asked incredulous.

Spike gave up trying to get anything else out of his mug and set it down.
He laid back beside the boy. "He had his good moods the same as any
one. Course, it was usually when he was killin' or fuckin', but he could be
quite perky about it."

Xander decided he didn't want to think too much about that. He changed
the subject. "Buffy's being pretty good about us."

"I guess," said Spike. 

"How do you think she'll handle the rest ?" Xander asked, tilting his head
toward the wall.

"Depends," said Spike. "If farm boy's keepin' her parts tingling she might
not be too homicidal about it."

"She's pretty hot on Riley," said Xander. "Maybe she's finally got over
Angel." That hope suffered a severe blow with the look he received. "Or
maybe not," he added.

Spike shook his head. "It's got nothing to do with love any more," he
explained. "Least not the heart pounding, blood boiling sort. This crap is
all just regret and memories, but they can have a powerful hold. Past love
can be as strong as any other kind. You have to make the choice to bury
it, or else eventually, it'll bury you."

"They haven't let go yet," said Xander, understanding.

"Not completely," said Spike. "Part of them knows it's over for good, but
until all of them sees it that way, what they had'll keep chokin' them."

"Angel's ready to let go," said Xander.

Spike nodded. "He is, but is she ?"

Xander looked troubled.

Spike decided they'd yakked enough; reaching out he grabbed Xander's
arm and dragged the boy toward him.

"Wha-"

"Shut up," said Spike sealing his lips to his lover's. 

Xander's protest melted as he gave himself to the assault. He tasted the
lingering copper tang of blood and the rich, earthy flavour that was pure
Spike. The vampire wasn't wasting any time - busy hands had already
undone the buckle of his belt and were now drawing down the zipper. He
jumped slightly as cold fingers brushed the warm skin of his belly. 

Spike murmured into the kiss and pushed his hand lower, cupping
Xander's waking flesh through the thin satin of his boxer's. It twitched in
response to the gentle caress, Spike squeezed very lightly and Xander
groaned. Smiling slyly, Spike released the boy and wriggled down until
his face was level with the open fly. He eased Xander's erection free of
the material and blew over it gently.

"Oh god," Xander gasped hoarsely.

Spike's smile widened and he wet his lips before drawing the satiny head
across them. Xander whimpered and twitched in his grasp. Spike let his
tongue delicately probe the slit, lapping up a glistening jewel of precum.
Xander murmured nonsensically and thrust his erection toward Spike's
mouth. The vampire needed no further encouragement to let the hot flesh
slip between his lips, suckling on it lovingly as he drew it deep into his
throat. He held it there, just flicking his tongue around it lazily. 

"Oh, please," Xander begged. "Suck it, *please* suck it."

<My pleasure, pet> Spike opened his throat and took Xander even
deeper, drawing hard upon the rigid length. Xander's answering cry 
told him he'd hit the spot. He pressed his face into the boy's belly as he
suckled, after a moment Xander stiffened and his mouth was flooded
with rich, salty heat. Spike drank it greedily, continuing to suckle until
the flesh softened and Xander whimpered softly.

He moved back up the boy's body, licking traces of cum from his lips.
"Good ?" Xander grabbed him and kissed him fiercely. "I'll take that as a
yes," said Spike, when he was finally released.

"Want you," said Xander urgently. "Want you now."

Spike growled and pushed the boy over onto his belly, yanking jeans 
and boxers down to Xander's ankles. Spike disliked being hobbled, so
cursing impatiently he pulled off his boots and wriggled out of his jeans.
He patted down his duster pockets searching frantically for the lube. He
gave an exclamation of relief when his fingers finally closed around it.

In a state of high excitement, Spike prepared the youth hurriedly, but
with care. Xander was making those soft, breathy sounds that made the
stolen blood rush around his body. He coated his erection with shaking
hands and spread the boy's cheeks pushing in with one well-placed thrust.
Xander cried out as he drove in deep.

"Oh god, *yes*."

Spike took this as reassurance that he wasn't hurting the boy. A theory
that was enforced in the way Xander thrust back - urging him even
deeper. Sheafed in tight blood heat, Spike closed his eyes; he was
trembling. In that moment, he was certain if his heart could beat it would
have broken through his rib cage with its hammering. He felt his features
shift, razor edged fangs slicing through his lips. The blood dripped onto
Xander's shirt, dark spots on the sheer blue fabric.

Xander wriggled. "S-Spike."

Spike growled and slowly pulled back, before sinking in again, even
deeper than before. 

Xander's fingers clutched at the stone floor. "Do-do it...again," he gasped
brokenly.

Spike repeated the movement....again and again. Pulling almost all 
the way out and then sliding back in with sure, slow thrusts. Xander's
breathing became fast and ragged, Spike began to pant. He seized the
edges of Xander's shirt and ripped it open up the back. He ran his hands
over the exposed skin before leaning forward - sinking his fangs through
the tender flesh to reach the blood beneath. As the thick fluid gushed up
into his mouth, Spike increased the rhythm of his thrusts, pounding into
the youth with near frenzied urgency.

Xander's hands scrabbled to find purchase on the smooth stone flags as
he tried to drive himself back onto Spike's erection. Deep wasn't deep
enough, fast wasn't fast enough. He wanted more. With a savage grunt
Spike gave him what he wanted. Xander gasped as he was stretched and
filled almost beyond bearing. Despite his exhaustion he felt his flesh
stir,
and knew he was going to come again. Another hard shove and he slid
forward across the floor. Spike grabbed him and pulled him back.

Xander's erection twitched and came fully back to life. He was grateful
for the cushioning of his jacket, but the hard stone floor still pressed
his
flesh with near painful force. Spike was biting his back; he could feel the
sharp fangs slicing his skin and the sticky hot blood running down his
sides. Xander managed to push one hand under his body, holding his
erection as Spike thrust into him. He felt as if every nerve in his body
was connected to that one spot - the place Spike hit with every down
stroke. 

He shouted Spike's name as he came for a second time, his seed spilling
stickily over his fingers. 

Spike's thrusts grew more erratic and he tore his fangs free as he howled. 

Xander felt his lover's seed rushing into him and he murmured Spike's
name over and over. He was still chanting it when Spike turned him over
and covered his face and throat in kisses. It was only when the vampire
claimed his mouth that he fell silent.

Spike seemed quite content to curl up against his chest, but Xander 
was beginning to find the floor somewhat hard. "B-bed ?" he suggested
hopefully. He was grateful when Spike picked him up and carried him
over to it. Everything was pretty fuzzy, and he wasn't all that confident
about his motor skills.

The bed wasn't made - Spike had simply thrown down the mattress and
heaped the blankets on it. 

Xander sighed as he removed the remnants of his shirt....one down....

Spike slung his duster across the bottom of the bed and screwed his shirt
and T-shirt into a ball, throwing them across the room. Naked, he nestled
back against Xander's chest. 

Xander smiled as he felt the rumbling reverberations through his body;
he stroked the purring vampire and closed his eyes. Within seconds he
was asleep.

The fire was little more than smouldering ashes when the purring finally
stopped.

Part Nine  

Taking a deep breath, Willow knocked on the front door of the mansion.
A moment later it opened and she was greeted by the sight of a barefoot
Angel, clad only in boxers and an unbuttoned shirt. He stood in the shade
of the doorway - looking surprised, but not, she thought, displeased to see
her.

She gave him a bright, "Hi," and an apprehensive smile. 

He smiled back warmly. "Willow. Come in." 

The interior was cool and dark; it took her eyes a few seconds to adjust
from the glare outside. As soon as they did, her cheeks coloured and she
quickly stepped back - onto Angel's foot. "Oh !" she exclaimed softly, her
embarrassment deepening. 

His expression was one of gentle bemusement. "It's okay, no harm done." 

She ducked her head.

"You've come to see Xander ?" he guessed.

Head down, Willow nodded.

"I'll see if he's awake," Angel offered.

He went out of the room, leaving Willow alone with the source of her
mortification - the young, and quite obviously naked man sitting up in
the rumpled bed. His name was Doyle, she remembered. He ran his
hands through short, tousled black hair and flashed her a friendly grin.

"Hi...er...Willow, right ?"

She gave him a quick affirming smile - trying not to stare as the tangled
sheet rode low on his hips. Her mind was doing cartwheels. She'd never
spent a great deal of time in the mansion, but she knew only two rooms
were safely usable: the master bedroom and this one. So, if Spike and
Xander were in the master suite, that meant Angel was in here......with
Doyle.

Willow's mind disobeyed her wishes, absorbing various details, such as
the quite obvious lack of separate sleeping arrangements. All the room
contained was the one, large, rumpled double-bed. Wth a naked Doyle 
in it.

Angel reappeared. "He'll be out in a minute," he told her.

"Uh ? I mean, good." Willow drew in a deep breath. 

"Can I get you anything ?" he asked, and then added apologetically. "Not
that we really have anything. I could get you a glass of water ?"

"No...thank you. I'm fine," said Willow quickly. She wondered if it would
be rude to ask if she could wait outside.

Angel wandered over to the bed; curiosity got the better of Willow's
embarrassment, and her gaze discreetly followed him. He sat down next
to Doyle. She saw the young man shoot Angel a slightly wary look -
clearly directed at her presence. She watched as Angel smiled and shook
his head. Her eyes widened as he brought his hand up to the young man's
cheek, touching it in an unmistakably intimate manner. 

Suddenly the room was no longer pleasingly cool, as the fiery heat in her
cheeks spread rapidly through the rest of her body. She was saved from
possible spontaneous combustion by Xander's timely arrival. At least, she
*thought* it was Xander, and not his doppleganger. Though the emerald
green shirt and the charcoal pants weren't like anything she'd seen him in
before. Her heat wave intensified.

"Hiya, Will. Is everything okay ?" Xander asked, a worried edge behind
his welcoming smile.

"Uh huh, good, fine," she babbled nervously. "I just wanted to...to talk
...about...some...er...ah...stuff."

"Okay," Xander gently took hold of her arm, "let's go outside and talk."
With a parting nod to Doyle and Angel, he steered Willow toward the
door.

"Stay close to the house," Angel called after them.

"Yes, mom," said Xander, jumping out of the way of the cushion Angel
threw at him. He led an unresisting Willow into the warm, sunlit garden,
blinking at the brightness. He'd recognized she was in the grip of near
paralysing embarrassment, and had guessed its cause. He was proved
right as the front door clicked shut and Willow sprang back to life. She
snatched at him.

"Angel....Angel and Doyle...They....He..."

"Breathe, Will, " said Xander gently. He took her hand and walked her to
the far end of the garden. He sat down on the edge of a stone trough and
tugged her down beside him.

"B-but..they're ?" She looked at him stunned.

Xander didn't know exactly what his friend had seen, but he decided if
Angel wasn't trying to be discreet it was because the vampire wanted
Willow to know. Which meant he probably wouldn't mind Xander filling
in a few blanks. "Yeah, they are."

"Together ? !" she squeaked.

"Very."

Willow looked away. Xander could practically see the thoughts buzzing
in her head. 

"But...but doesn't that mean he's happy ?" she asked, bewildered. "He's
happy and he's not gone all 'eek' and Angelussy ?"

"No," Xander assured her. "He's one hundred percent good guy, totally
Angel, no 'us' in there anywhere."

She looked at him dazedly. "How ?"

"It's kinda of complicated," said Xander. "The short version is - things
are
different, his curse is different."

"He's still cursed ?" She sounded dismayed.

"Yeah, but it's okay. We did a spell," Xander smiled and shrugged. "Well,
that is, Spike did a spell. I kinda hid behind the couch. Anyway, the thing
is, Angel can't lose his soul like he did before."

"He can be happy," said Willow, understanding.

"Yeah," said Xander softly, "he can be happy."

"And he's gay now ?" she asked faintly.

Xander chuckled softly. "I think it's different for them. I mean, vampires
and demons, and the like. They don't seem to get all hung up on gender."
He added, "Doyle was even married once" - forgetting that Willow was 
unaware of the Irishman's half-demon status.

She didn't pick up on it. "He seems....nice," she offered.

"He's a stand up guy," said Xander. "He and Angel have a good thing
going." He hesitated. "Would you...I mean, it might be best if you don't
say anything to the others. Not yet."

Willow's eyes narrowed. "You mean don't say anything to Buffy."

"He's going to tell her," said Xander quickly. "He just isn't sure how to."

Willow thought about it and nodded. "I won't say a word," she promised.
"So long as he does tell her. It's not fair otherwise. If we all know and
she
doesn't."

"Do you think she'll freak ?" Xander asked.

Willow shrugged lightly. "I don't know. She's been with Riley and his
friends so much lately, I hardly see her." She sighed unhappily. "It's like
everyone's changed. Giles isn't a librarian any more, Buffy's all gung-ho
with Riley, Cordy's gone, Angel's gone, O-Oz is gone." Her voice hitched
a little on her ex-boyfriend's name.

She looked at him sadly. "You're gone too, aren't you ?"

Xander didn't answer her straight away. Instead he took her hand; the 
one that was fiddling agitatedly with the hem of her skirt. Her fingers
felt
warm and tiny compared to Spike's. He held onto it as he explained. "I
can't stay, Will. The Initiative won't ever leave Spike alone, and if he
tries to go after them, Buffy will be less than pleased." 

His expression grew slightly bitter. "Then there's the whole sorry mess
with my folks - who will *never* get their heads around the idea of 
me being gay." He decided not to mention that also, Spike would quite
possibly kill them.

Willow nodded understandingly and they sat in silence for a little while. 

Xander chewed his lip anxiously. Finally he asked, "Are you okay with 
this ? I mean, with me and Spike ?" 

She looked at him. "It's kinda hard," she admitted. "Not to mention, sort
of strange."

"Bad strange ?"

"No," she said slowly, "Just strange, strange."

"Oh." He wondered if that was better.

She squeezed his hand. "I'm trying to understand, honestly I am."

"But it's creeping you out ?" he guessed.

She flushed. "A little." Adding quickly, "Not the you being gay part. Just
the you and Spike part." Seeing his crest-fallen expression she tried to
put it better. "It's just a shock, that's all. Like when we all found out
about
you and Cordelia, but less ick."

Xander raised an eyebrow at her."Less ?" 

Willow grinned. "Well, she was the 'Queen of Mean'. Spike's just 'Spike'.
He's supposed to do the evil thing." Her grin faded rapidly. "He's not evil
with you is he ?" she asked anxiously. 

Xander shook his head. "No, he's...." -Xander smiled- "he's pretty
amazing." He noticed her odd look. "What ?"

She poked him gently. "You did the thing."

"The thing ?"

"You know." She raised her eyes to the sky, and clutched her free hand to
her chest in a dramatic manner. "'Oh, be still my beating heart'."

Xander flushed and ducked his head.

"You weren't like this with Cordy. Or Anya," she added.

Xander glanced at her through his fringe. "I wasn't ?"

"Nope. Then you were all jumpy. Like you'd forgotten something
important, like a maths test."

"What do I look like now ?"

"Happy," she said softly, pushing his fringe out of his eyes. "You're not
ever coming back, are you ?" Her bottom lip trembled.

Xander swallowed hard. "No."

Fighting back tears, Willow nodded. "I...I understand. Things are better
in L.A. You....you can work for Angel....and....and y-you've got Spike."

"I'll miss you," said Xander, his own voice rough with tears.

She pulled her hand free from his and wrapped both her arms around
him. "I hate this," she wept, "You're m-my...best...f-friend. I don't want
you to go."

"I have to," he said helplessly.

"I...know," she sobbed.

He hugged her tightly then gently pushed her back so he could look into
her face. He tenderly wiped away the tears that trickled down her cheeks.
"Come and visit," he urged. "You can bring Tara. We're going to get our
own place. I'll make sure it has a guest room."

She smiled through her tears. "Sleepovers ?"

He nodded.

"Spike won't mind ?"

"No, he likes you."

"He does ?" She sounded doubtful.

"He thinks you're 'feisty'," Xander quoted.

That made her giggle.

Xander smiled too, pleased to have stolen some of the sadness from her
face. "So," he pressed. "You'll come ?"

Willow nodded. "I could come in the holidays, after I've done the relative
thing. I'll have to study some, but I could stay for a few days." She
smiled
shyly. "And I can really bring Tara ? You....you won't mind ?"

"Of course I won't," said Xander. "I like her. Okay, I don't really know
her, but she seems nice."

"She is, she really is," Willow enthused.

"Be still my beating heart," Xander teased.

Willow gave him a mock indignant look and began to tickle him. 

"Aah..no...no...Ah....Will....stop...stop...Ah," Xander gasped. He was
completely at her mercy. The fiendish red-head, otherwise known as
Willow Rosenberg, knew all his most ticklish spots. He tried to catch 
hold of her hands. As he did so he froze. 

She caught his expression and stopped trying to wiggle free. "Wha-?"

"Move !" he shouted, pushing her to the ground.

The loose stones cut her hands as she slid forward - as a shaggy-haired
beast hurled itself at the place where she had been sitting. Willow cried
out as the creature quickly turned on Xander. Frantically, she searched
around for something to hit it with. One piece of fallen masonry was too
heavy to lift, a smaller lump glanced ineffectually off the creature's
back.

It growled and snarled, foaming jaws centimetres from Xander's throat.

"Xander !" she yelled, and in desperation began to use her fists and feet
to punch and kick the beast.

"R-run," Xander gasped. "W-Will, run."

She ignored him and continued to strike out at the creature savaging her
friend. It lashed out, sending her flying back across the courtyard. She
hit
her head on an upturned marble urn and everything went fuzzy. She was
trying to get back to her feet when she heard a howl of rage behind her.
Fearing another attack, Willow looked round. 

Her eyes focused blurrily on the mansion doorway, where Spike stood -
apparently ready to plunge out into the deadly sunlight - Angel held him
back as he howled and clawed to get free. Another figure came past the
struggling pair. Doyle. The young man spared her a brief worried glance.
She waved him away. "I'm..fine. Help Xander."

As he turned from her she realised his face was changing. Pale skin was
now a sort of greenish blue, peppered with dozens of tiny spines. Dazed,
she stared as he seized the creature by it's shaggy pelt, dragging it back.
Xander was free, but the beast now turned upon its attacker, leaping onto
Doyle and pinning him to the ground. He punched it and it roared in rage.
Terrified, Willow looked back at the mansion - her anguish was mirrored
in the faces of the two vampires, trapped by the lethal sunlight.

Xander scrambled to his feet and dived back into the fray. He managed
to get an arm around the creature's neck and tried to hold its jaws away 
from Doyle's throat. As he pulled and twisted there was a sickening crack
and the growls stopped. The creature went still. Confused, Xander let it
go and staggered back.

Willow got up. She watched Doyle push the creature off; it rolled onto its
back, limbs limp and heavy. She stared, stunned, and then looked across
at Xander. "You...you broke it." 

Xander seemed equally shocked, his pale face had a slightly greenish
tinge. Doyle stood and took hold of his arm. "Come on, man. Let's get
you back to the house before Spike goes up in flames." He led the dazed
youth back toward the mansion, collecting Willow on the way.

"He broke it," she repeated.

"Yeah," said Doyle glancing worriedly at Xander, "it's broke all right."

Part Ten  

Snarling, Spike strained against Angel's hold; trapped by the knowledge
that he'd be a fireball long before he could reach his lover. As soon as
the
bedraggled trio crossed the threshold, he tore free. Seizing Xander, he
ran his hands over his body, searching for injuries. He could smell blood.
Golden eyes glittered fiercely as they followed the welts and scratches.
"Does anythin' hurt ?" he demanded. Xander didn't reply. Spike slapped
the boy's face lightly. "Oi, snap out of it. Are you hurtin' anywhere ?"

"N-no," said Xander quietly.

An anxious Angel was checking out Doyle.

"I'm fine," Doyle assured him, "but I think the young lady's a bit shaken."

"I'm okay," said Willow in a detached voice. A thin line of blood trickled
down her face from a small cut on her hairline. Her grazed hands had grit
and dirt sticking to them.

"Come on," said Angel gently. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"You had spines," said Willow dazedly, looking at Doyle.

Doyle winced. "Yeah, I...er...do, now and then."

"And you were blue."

"Yeah, I do that to."

"Oh," she said simply. Angel led her over to the couch and sat her down.
Doyle retrieved the medical kit. Angel meticulously bathed the girl's cuts
and scrapes, dabbing them with antiseptic cream. He smoothed the hair
back from her face and put a band aid on the cut above her temple. As
soon as he had finished, he turned to Doyle, who was wiping blood and
grime from his own abrasions. Angel took the cloth and adopted the task. 

Shaken, despite his claims to the contrary, Doyle gave himself over to his
lover's tender ministrations.

Meanwhile, an agitated Spike fussed over Xander. Having cleaned 
off the dirt, he snatched up the tube of cream and ordered the youth 
to remove his shirt. Xander shrugged out of it with a sigh. The material
was torn and frayed from being raked by the creatures claws.....two
down....

Unfortunately, Xander had forgotten one or two not so minor points.
Namely the semi-healed puncture wounds he'd carefully concealed
beneath his collar, and the faded lettering scrawled across his chest.

Anxious to ascertain her friend's well-being, Willow glanced across. 
She inhaled sharply, as her mouth fell open and she stared horrified.
"X-Xander ?"

He suddenly realised what she had seen and tried to move away. Spike
pushed him back onto the couch.

"Sit still. I haven't done yet."

Xander turned his face away miserably and tried to twist himself round,
wanting to hide from Willow's alarmed gaze. Spike noticed her staring
and growled. 

Angel decided to intervene. He gently turned the girl's face away.

She pinned him with frightened eyes. "Did....did ?"

"No," he told her quietly, "Spike didn't do that." He mentally crossed his
fingers over the puncture wounds.

"Then, who....how ?"

"We had some trouble," said Angel simply. "It's been dealt with."

Spike snorted. "It's bin fuckin' dusted." Angel shot him a warning look.
Which Spike ignored. He was examining a shallow gash on Xander's
chest. Finally, he drew back, satisfied all the scratches were
superficial.
(He'd given the whelp worse during several of their more...ah...'vigorous'
sessions.)

Willow didn't look any happier. 

Spike took off his duster and placed it around his lover's shoulders. 

Xander slipped his arms into it with a grateful smile, hugging it around
his chest.

Doyle closed the medical box. "So, I'm guessing the question is, was that
just a chance attack or was hair-boy after summat special ?"

"What sort of demon was it ?" Angel asked.

"No idea, man," said Doyle. "Chakras have hair, but it didn' look like one
of them, maybe a Muela ?"

Angel shook his head. "This close to a town, unlikely." He looked at the
others on the couch. "Did any of you notice anything else about it ?"

"You mean apart from it's huge snarly teeth ?" said Xander. He frowned.
"Yeah, it stank. I mean, *really* stank. B.O on the scale of champions."

"Grosga demon," Angel and Spike chimed together.

"A what ?" asked Doyle.

"Carrion eater," said Angel.

"Fuckin' disgustin'," Spike added. "Dig up dead'uns and munch their
rottin' parts."

"I think I speak for Willow here as well, when I say *euww*," said
Xander. "Can't demons have normal cravings ? Like twinkies and candy
bars ?"

"The Twinkie demon ?" said Spike with a smirk.

"Now that's one I'd like to see," said Doyle. "800 pounds and covered in
shiny wrappers, no doubt."

Willow wasn't quite following the bizarre humour. She stared worriedly
at Xander. "You did a Buffy thing."

He looked at her. "Huh ?"

"You broke it," she continued. "Like Buffy would have. Except...except,
you're not Buffy. So you can't do that," her face crumpled, "but you did."

"Yeah," he said softly, "I did. I just pulled....." His voice trailed off
and
he swallowed hard. He turned to Spike. "What...What did I do ?"

Doyle and Angel regarded him in silent sympathy.

Spike looked into his lover's face and tenderly touched the boy's cheek. 
"You broke the bastard's neck, is all."

Doyle added, "Something for which I, for one, am truly grateful. Seen'as
how it was my throat it was lookin' to tear out."

"I...I couldn't do that before," said Xander in a frightened voice.

"Like I told you, pet. You're changin'," said Spike. "This comes with the
territory. You gonna be all right with it ?" The tone was casual, though it
didn't mask the anxiety in blue-gold eyes.

Xander fastened his gaze on his lover's face and nodded. "I...I will be."

Spike smiled and kissed him. 

Willow breathed in sharply.

He looked at her.

She stumbled off the couch. "I have to go, I...I have a class." Her
momentum was stayed by Angel's hand.

"You can't go back alone. We don't know why that thing chose to attack
in daylight, out in the open like that."

"You...you think it was the Sorcerer ?" she asked him fearfully.

"Possibly. Where's Buffy now ?"

Willow flushed unhappily and mumbled. "With Riley."

Angel stiffened slightly, but he merely nodded. "Okay, can you get in
touch with her. I have my phone. Could you ring her ?"

Willow shook her head. "They went for a picnic somewhere."

"Oh that's just great," said Spike. "We haul our arses to this piss-pot of
a
town to help her, and she's off playing 'hand-holdy' with the local dim
wit."

Xander grabbed a short blond curl and pulled it - hard.

"Ow !" Spike glared. "What the fuck-?"

"-we're playing nicely with others, remember ?" said Xander.

Willow's eyebrows lifted even higher as Spike muttered a sullen apology,
before seating himself heavily on the couch beside Xander. She watched
as her friend patted the vampire's thigh. Spike instantly lay his hand out,
palm up. Xander put his over it, threading his fingers through his lover's.
Her gaze softened slightly. It was such a little gesture, but it spoke of
the
intimacy the two shared. Something, until now, she'd been having trouble
accepting.

Willow lived in a world were little gestures of her love were all she could
ever show it. She could take the pages from other people's lives and read
between the lines in the same way she worked her own. Just as a smile to
Tara meant much more than just a show of happiness. This, to her, was a
sign of Spike and Xander's closeness. Their fingers didn't remain still,
but
continued to stroke and touch, reassuring one another without words.

Some of the fear and worry that had wrapped itself around her heart
subsided slightly. Xander was happy. So she could be too.

Angel and Doyle were talking together. At length they turned to her.
"Doyle will drive you back to town. When you get there find Buffy, tell
her what happened. Ask her to come up here tonight." He hesitated. "Ask
if she can come alone. I...we need to talk."

Willow nodded. "I'll tell her, and I won't say anything about-" she broke
off and blushed.

Angel smiled. "Thank you."

She smiled back. "I think it's good. I mean, I'm glad you're happy." She
ducked her head and hurried over to the door. "Okay, ready now." She
wanted to go before she exploded with embarrassment.

"Be careful, Will," Xander called. Spike simply nodded his head in silent
affirmation.

She smiled at them both and stood waiting impatiently for her escort. A
hot flush stole down her body when Angel tenderly tipped Doyle's head
back and placed a firm kiss upon the young man's lips. She heard him
whisper 'Be careful', and the answer of, 'Aren't I always'. From the look
Angel gave Doyle she guessed probably not.

Doyle escorted her outside and they walked warily to the car. She sat 
in, as he went around the back and took something out of the boot. He
held it carefully as he got in the driver's side, placing it down beside
his
seat. It was a loaded cross-bow.

"You can never be *too* careful," he said. "I hear these small towns can
be rum places. Though I don't suppose that's true here ?"

She blinked. Then she caught the teasing glimmer in his eyes. "Oh no,"
she said, joining in. "Sunnydale's a very quiet place. We don't have any
trouble, nope. None at all."

They shared a grin which lessened the awkwardness between them, and drove
back to
that quiet looking place, otherwise known as Sunnyhell.

Part Eleven

After the excitement of the morning the rest of the day was uneventful.
Angel paced anxiously until Doyle returned. Then he gave them each a
number of books and instructed them to research anything connected to
Grosga demons. Whether there were any previous records of attacks on 
living victims, and if so, had any of the attacks taken place in daylight,
around human habitations. Angel phoned Cordelia to get her working on
it too. Then he phoned Giles and had a lengthy concerning the who's who
of sorcerers.

Spike had little patience with book reading, but surprisingly he knuckled
down with the rest. His argument being the sooner this fuck was dead,
the sooner they could go back to L.A and sort out the important stuff.
Like finding somewhere for him and Xander. 

Doyle had returned with a few snack type goodies, and as the afternoon
drew on, he and Xander broke off to recharge their batteries. 

Spike joined Angel raiding the cool box for a packet of blood, amid
much grumbling and complaining. "We have to stay 'ere much longer,
we're gonna need some fresh supplies. I'm *not* drinkin' this swill if 
the fuckin' stuff's gone off," he growled.

"I'll see if Giles will agree to a temporary arrangement. He should be able
to fix us up," said Angel.

"Oh, yeah," Spike sniped. "The bloody Watcher will only be too happy to
help. Seen as how he hates both our soddin' guts now."

"He wants us out of Sunnydale," said Angel flatly. "But I think he's
accepted that if there's something going on, we have a part to play. 
He'll supply us, if the alternative means sitting back and watching while 
you dine on the locals."

Spike grinned evilly. "Nowt wrong with that, mate. The only thing half
these sad fucks is good for is feedin' off."

Angel narrowed his eyes at him. "You are not touching any one while
we're in town. Of dubious character, or otherwise. Got it."

Spike remained sullenly silent.

"Let me put it this way," Angel hissed. "How happy do you think it'll
make Xander if you start eating your way through his year-book ?"

That got a reaction and Angel realised he'd made his point. The populace
of Sunnydale were safe from Spike....well, reasonably.

Xander reappeared from one of the rubble strewn back rooms. "You
know, far be it from me to complain about our luxurious surroundings,
but we mortal types tend to miss those modern trappings. Like hot water,
or even running water. Plumbing of any kind would be really nice right
now." He ran a hand through his hair. It felt lank and sticky. The heat of
midday had left him hot and sweaty. He was loathe to put on a fresh shirt
when he felt so yuck.

Spike jumped up from the couch. "Get your kegs off," he said, pointing
towards the boy's jeans. "I'll show you how we did it back in the bad old
days."

Xander stared at him dubiously.

"Come on, shift your arse," said Spike.

Xander glanced at Angel, who simply smiled secretively. None the wiser,
Xander went to get undressed. Spike came into the bedroom as he was
removing his socks. 

"Right, sit yourself down and don't bloody shift 'til I tell you." He
pushed
Xander back onto the edge of the bed. "Shut your eyes. Go on, shut 'em."

Xander warily shut his eyes.

"Keep 'em closed," said Spike.

Xander obeyed. He heard the sound of Spike starting up a fire; then the
vampire left the room. He returned a few moments later and dropped
something down heavily. It sounded metallic, other than that, Xander
hadn't got a clue. Whatever Spike was doing it took quite some time, 
and a lot of coming and going. Xander heard the sound of water being
poured, followed at one point by an exclamation and a loud curse, as
Spike obviously spilt some.

He was beginning to shiver, despite the fire's comfortable heat, when
Spike finally told him he could open his eyes. Xander did....and stared.
In front of the fire was an enormous copper bath tub. Antique in style, it
gleamed as if it were new. Spike saw his confused look and explained.

"It wasn't like that when we first came up 'ere, but Peaches likes his
home comforts, so he had me scrubbin' the soddin' thing out for him."
Spike's mouth twisted in bitter recollection. "Said I might as well make
myself useful since I was sat around on my arse all day."

Xander wandered over to his lover and touched his arm gently. 

Spike acknowledged his concern and gently brushed it aside. "I'm all
right, I just forget now and then what a tosser the pouff is without his
fuckin' soul, that's all." He shrugged. "Now, you get your pretty arse in
that tub, while I see if I can wrestle up some soap or summat."

Xander eased himself into the hot tub - utter bliss. It soothed the bruises
and scratches from his earlier battle, taking away their itchy sting. He
let
his head sink back and sighed contentedly. Spike came back in carrying a
small bottle. Xander looked at it questioningly.

"Oil's, oil, innit," said Spike. "What's the difference if it's bath oil or
fuck
oil."

Xander didn't really have an answer for that.

"Duck your head," Spike told him. "Best do that first, you won't want this
stuff in your hair."

Xander ducked his head and ran his fingers through his hair, brushing 
out the dust and dirt. He resurfaced, and Spike uncorked the flask. 
The rich musky scent of oil reached out to him. Spike tipped a little into
the water; it pooled in shiny amber globules. Xander swished his fingers
through them, making the water feel slippery and oh, *so* good.

Spike dipped his fingers into the water. He'd brought a cloth with him.
"Sit up, pet. I'll do your back."

Xander drew up his knees and leaned forward. Spike rubbed the warm,
wet cloth across his back in lazy circles. Xander made approving noises.

" 'Ere," said Spike, "shift up a bit."

"Hmm ?"

Spike pulled the surprised boy to his feet. "Stay like that, and don't move
or you'll slip."

Goosebumps speckled Xander's skin as he stood and waited. 

Though not for long. 

Spike shed his clothing in record time and got into the tub in front of
Xander. "Right, sit your'sen back down. Careful." He eased the youth
back into the tub. Water slopped across the floor as they arranged
themselves. There was some shuffling before they got comfortable; 
face-to-face, with Xander sitting in Spike's lap, his legs at either side. 

Spike grinned as their groins brushed. "I reckon whoever had this thing
made was a bit kinky. Bet he liked to get the maid in 'ere with 'im." The
vampire waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Maybe he just liked a lot of room," suggested Xander.

"Well it's certainly got that," said Spike. He gripped the sides of the tub
as he pushed his hips back and forth, rocking himself against the boy.

Xander groaned. "Ohhh."

"Nice, pet ?"

Heavy-lidded eyes rose to meet his, as Xander nodded slowly.

Spike smiled. "Yeah, oil makes water nice 'n' slippery. Makes other bits
nice 'n' slippery too." He illustrated his point by taking hold of Xander's
semi-hard length, stroking until it grew full and heavy in his hand. With a

purr of appreciation, Spike released it. Xander's grumble was silenced
when Spike's fingers dipped lower, stoking the sensitive skin beneath. 

"Oh," Xander gasped breathily. He arched his hips up slightly, his fingers
slipping on the side of the tub.

Spike worked his fingers underneath and gently probed the entrance to
Xander's body. The oil drenched water eased his passage, his finger
slipping in easily. Transfixed, he watched the shifting expressions on
Xander's face. The tense anticipation, followed by a tiny frown, which
deepened with the initial contact. Then, as his finger slid inside the
tight
channel, Xander's lips parted gently as his head tipped back.

Spike brought his other hand up to touch the boy's face. Xander's eyes
opened, glazed with desire. Spike stroked the soft lips, gasping as Xander
caught his finger between blunt teeth. 

The boy sucked the digit into his mouth, mimicking fellatio - drawing it
in deep and swirling his tongue around it. All the while, velvet dark eyes
never once strayed from Spike's face.

Spike joined in the play, sliding his finger in and out, slowly fucking
Xander's mouth. It soon wasn't enough. With a growl he withdrew his
fingers from the youth's body. Drawing Xander forward, he grabbed the
slender hips and pulled him down hard onto his erection

Xander gasped as the rigid length entered his body; struggling slightly.

Spike continued to ease him down, until the boy's buttocks were flush
with his groin. "You..all right ?" he ground out.

Xander wiggled slightly, winced, and then gasped. "Oh, god, *yesss*."

Spike bit through his lip as the boy moved. "Re-ready ?"

Flushed and dazed, Xander looked at him.

"Move," Spike ordered.

Xander understood. Fingers fought for purchase on wet slippery skin as
he began to raise and lower himself on Spike's erection. He braced his
feet and arms on the copper tub and tried to find some leverage. Spike
came to his assistance - holding and lifting him - before letting his body
sink back onto the long, hard length.

It was impossible to move any way but slowly. The sensations a delicious
kind of torture spreading through trembling bodies.

"Touch yourself," Spike hissed.

Xander released one side of the tub and eagerly closed his fingers around
his straining flesh. He stroked it in time to the deep thrusts, his
breathing
rough and ragged. His movements grew more rapid as the pressure built
up and with a harsh cry he came, his seed splashing over his belly. Spike
snatched his hand and pulled it toward his mouth. A cold tongue flicked
between his fingers, cleaning away the traces of cum. It darted over his
palm and sharp fangs suddenly sank into his wrist, making him yelp.

The yelp became a dull, pleasured moan as the blood trickled down his
arm, and Spike drank. Dizzily, Xander watched the dark crimson clouds
blossoming in the water. Spike bit deeper and he cried out again, pushing
his wrist closer, wanting more. Needing to feel those cold points of ivory
pressing into his hot, burning flesh.

He whimpered with the loss when his lover's fangs withdrew. Then
blinked with dazed confusion as he was lifted free of Spike's erection.
Xander was barely able to stand but Spike pulled him to his feet. He
would have slipped, but Spike sure-footedly tracked through the oily
pools of water and carried him over to the bed. 

He was thrown down on it, none too gently, his legs hanging off the edge.
Spike pushed them apart and a heartbeat later plunged back into him.
There was the sudden, sharp burn as his body was breached; though any
discomfort was forgotten as his lover began to thrust. This time the pace
was fast and brutal. Xander wrapped his hands around the bed covers 
and then jammed one fist into his mouth. He felt hot, and faint with the
sensations swirling through his body. 

Spike gave one final hard thrust and came. He howled, and Xander
arched back, crying out. As the cold seed filled his body, a second
orgasm was torn from him...and he tumbled into darkness.

***********************************************

He awoke, clean and dry, underneath the blankets. The tub was gone, 
but a fire still burnt in the grate. Spike was curled around him like a
cat.
Xander ran his fingers through the short blond waves, marvelling at their
softness. 

"Mmmzzsst ?" Spike mumbled sleepily. One blue eye opened and looked
at him. "Don't tell me you need to piss ? Cos I'm not bloody shifting."

Xander's mouth twitched in amusement. "No, I don't. But if I do you'll
have to move. Because you'll have to either carry me outside, or bring a
bottle. I don't think I could walk if an entire army of hairy, stinky
Grosga
demons marched through here."

"They better fuckin' not," Spike growled. He rolled back and looked at
Xander closely. "I didn't hurt you ?"

"I think ridden hard and put away wet, is the term they use," said Xander.
Seeing the worry in his lover's eyes he added. "No. I'm not hurt."

"Good," Spike muttered. "Does this mean you're gonna shut up and go
back to sleep any time soon ?"

Xander snuggled against his lover and closed his eyes.

It was Spike who broke the ensuing silence. "I don't suppose you've even
realised yet ?"

Xander opened his eyes, his forehead wrinkling in confusion. "Realised
what ?"

Spike smirked. "That if you weren't a little 'different', pet. I'd be
dragging
your sorry arse to the E.R round about now."

Xander's frown deepened and then cleared in startled comprehension.
"You mean...if I was...still like before..."

"I think you said it once, 'fucked to death'. There ain't a human on this
poxy planet that can lie back and take it like that." He kissed Xander on
the nose tenderly. "You're special, pet."

Xander still looked a little stunned. Then he smiled. "I think maybe I'm
going to like this," he said with a widening grin.

"Course you are, luv. Course you are," said Spike, "and so am I."

They kissed deeply, and hands began to wander beneath the blankets.......

Part Twelve - Eighteen