Summary: Xander's an old hat at working for the Council and getting paid handsomely for it. It's years after Sunnydale went boom and he's sort of lacking in the hero department because his life is...well, not all it's cracked up to be and he's spent far too much time alone.
He goes on a slayer-seeking mission and finds someone he never thought he'd see again and discovers a perfect opportunity for revenge.
It doesn't turn out quite how he expects, though. This is a bit dark but it does end happily. No worries, I swear! Just, heh, a bit of angst, is all. *g*

Warnings: There's het and X/OFCs (minor, really) and X/OMC which is pretty prominent in one chapter (or two, I forget how many, lmao), which I'll label.
Spike...he ends up fucking quite a few people b/c...well, I'd spoil the surprise if I said why, wouldn't I? You'll find out pretty quick, anyway. :)

And this is dark!Xander. I don't think I deviated too much from how he was in canon!Joss-world but how can a person not change after going through all Xander did, anyway? It's more fun when they change! And I also am a writer and tend to do whatever the hell I want anyway.

Notes: Everything in Buffy happened save for one minor detail...Xander never lost an eye! That never sat well with me and...*sniffle* poor Xander! As for Angel? I pretty much go off canon immediately, lmao.

Written for and dedicated to quietdiscerning simply because she wanted post-NFA Spander. Who was I to say no?
Sorry it took so long, by the way, lmao.
It ended up a tad bit longer than I anticipated. *cough88pagescough*.

Beta'd by kitty_poker1 and reread and semi-beta'd and stuff by toobusy2write.

Precious Jewel

by
Eyezrthewindows

Part One

Xander figured he'd been in the desert too long. Way, way, way too long. He must be chock full of malaria or some dementia-like illness that was causing him to suffer hallucinations. Or it could've been a spell...there were a lot of situations in his life where that happened.

Why?

Because he couldn't be seeing what he thought he was seeing.

Spike, who was supposed to be dead, really dead after having burnt up in a blaze of glory saving the world, was no less than fifty feet away -- give or take; he'd never been good at measuring distances. What the obviously formerly dead vampire wasn't supposed to be doing was working in a bordello Xander had been told by Giles was infested with baby slayers who were being used as sex slaves.

He'd set up shop across the street in a hotel with a small balcony three days ago, binoculars glued to his eyes for reconnaissance to find the girls, save them, and be on his merry way and instead he'd found a dead-ish vampire selling his ass in some godforsaken hellhole in the bottom of New Mexico along the border -- it was easy to traffic girls back and forth and business was booming with all the tourists and businessmen making their way to and from Mexico.

It was hard to see young girls, unwilling and sad, paraded around in skimpy clothes to be used however the customers wished but what could he do about it? The Council was lucky he'd agreed to the job in the first place -- Willow had used her sad, puppy eyes of doom, which had been totally unfair. He'd seen a hell of a lot of bullshit in the other countries he'd visited and he'd tried to do something about it in the beginning but he learned they just started up their businesses elsewhere after he'd shut them down and it was a never ending circle.

He couldn't make a difference anymore.

Spike hadn't noticed him yet, not that he was likely to given the attention he was laying on the customers he was...selling his wares to day in and day out, so Xander had time to examine him closely.

He looked okay. As okay as an unwilling, unpaid concubine could be, that is.

He appeared to be the same old Spike Xander had known in Sunnydale but for one main difference...

..he was chatting up men and flirting and letting them touch him like it pleased him; he wasn't being a snarky bastard and telling them to keep their paws off him. He was wearing skimpy clothes that made Pamela Anderson's Baywatch wardrobe seem positively grandmotherly.

It was making Xander sick to his stomach and maybe making it...wriggle around in a way that was...foreign to him. Mostly.

In fact, his intestines were doing the Watutsi and the cha-cha and all the other dances Xander never could learn -- he was rhythm retarded.

When Xander first noticed Spike, it brought back all the feelings pre-Sunnydale imploding and becoming a big hole in the ground. Feelings of anger and jealousy and...well, maybe some lust that he'd buried like everything else had been in that giant 'quake.

He'd hated Spike, everything about him. He couldn't forgive him for a lot of things but getting the soul had caused Xander to see him in a slightly different light.

He'd never forgive Spike for the things he'd done before the soul. He'd never forget what he'd nearly done to Buffy, what he'd done to Anya, what he'd done to him and Willow when he'd kidnapped them that one time. Those feelings and thoughts were a bitter taste in his mouth.

But he'd gotten past that because everyone in the danger zone had been working toward a common goal: saving the world to see tomorrow. Not that Xander had thought there would be a tomorrow.

He could be civil and was to Spike for the remainder of the vampire's life. When Xander thought Spike was dead he'd made peace with all of that, had forced all the bad down inside and had planned on never dredging it back up because there would be no need to.

But now that he'd seen Spike, found him alive -- or whatever semblance of it a vampire was -- and well and right there in the nearly naked flesh, it brought it all back and those feelings boiled and raged and erupted inside him, too high and too hot and too fast for him to ignore anymore.

He'd been the bigger man before but he couldn't be anymore.

Hey, he wasn't perfect.

And now that he knew Spike was a part of the...stable, he smiled. He smiled and felt lighter inside than he had in, possibly, years.

Why? Because it seemed Spike was getting a little comeuppance and Xander was here to see it happen.

This bordello, Shag-Real-Ahh, wasn't one that worked with the free will of volunteers who earned some of the profits like those showy ones in Vegas did. The owner tracked down pretties, kidnapped them and brought them here to live out a life of sexual servitude. They didn't get paid, they didn't get any luxury that didn’t have something to do with their 'job'. They were collared with unbreakable chokers with spells on them so they couldn't have a hope of escape. They were trained in the acts of sexual pleasure no matter how perverse.

Xander just so happened to have the counter-spell to remove them and make their former wearers invisible to the magical eyes of the brothel owner and his magic gurus.

Xander just had to get close enough to the girls to perform it.

He had a moment of real remorse for being unable to get the others out of that place, that happened from time to time, and he had to shake it off and remember what he'd seen elsewhere.

Yeah, his outlook on life had changed just a little in the last few years. If he'd been different, though...maybe if he'd still been that wide-eyed fifteen year old he'd been before Buffy had changed his life he might've tried to save them all.

But he wasn't that Xander any more. He wasn't disillusioned any more.

After seeing Spike and remembering the grudging respect he'd had for him in the end when he'd thought he and everyone else was going to die...well, he was going to have to amend his little mission a bit.

He was going to get Spike out, too.

He reckoned he owed Spike that much. Saving the world and sacrificing yourself was a big deal and Xander always paid his debts.

Even to those he didn't particularly like.

Willow had set up a glamour, anchored to a necklace Xander had to wear against his skin in order to be effective, that changed his appearance and his scent, made him invisible to any magic trying to 'see' him. He could go into the bordello as a different person every time if he wanted.

Simple, really, he supposed.

She also gave him a charm that allowed the proprietor and anyone else to be...accommodating when they weren't certain they should be. The Council wasn't going to finance visits to a demonic whorehouse, no matter that it was to release newly born slayers for the Council to use, any more than Xander was going to take it out of his own pocket in hopes he'd be remunerated.

Why he was being sent on the whorehouse mission he didn't know, though. Sounded more like a job for...well, anyone else.

Did he have 'dumbass' written on his forehead? Maybe. He tried not to look in the mirror much any more because his eyes weren't the same.

The slayers were pretty easy to spot and, really, all Xander had to do was ask for 'special' girls and get pointed in the right direction.

The brothel owner Xander now knew as Jerick Cript didn't know they were slayers, as such, just that they were uniquely strong and able to heal very fast no matter what was done to them; they had stamina to spare and were good stock that got him fistfuls of cash with little effort. Cript had heard about them through the demonic grapevine and thought they'd be perfect additions to his little business.

Xander wondered how Spike had wound up here; he knew the vampire had to be earning lots of dough for his master, considering his...vampire-y abilities, but Spike was the only male he'd seen in the place so far.

He peered through his compact spy binoculars, feeling very much like one of the guys in those double-o-seven films he'd admired as a kid, watching Spike charm his partners into giving him money up front without so much as a flinch for their lost funds. He would then do whatever they wanted, wherever they wanted, with grace and the well-practiced hands and body of a whore. He smiled beautifully, hiding the hatred and pain and anger and the resignation he must be feeling.

That was probably why he'd been picked. The man had...charisma oozing out of his perfectly sculpted, pale ass and had the ability to act well to hide any inner turmoil.

Apparently, he was also the house favourite. Had been for the three months he'd been there, Xander found out after a little chat with one of the locals who hung out at the bar next door coveting Spike's ass, too poor or too cheap to afford him and being bitter and mean about it.

Getting the girls out was easy. He went in asking for those 'specially talented' girls, watching the little crystal Willow had given him that would reveal a true slayer, then scooted them off via the portal spell Willow had created that even a stupid, non-magic user like Xander could use. They were sent to the Council's headquarters after he gave them the skinny on what they were, what the fucked up dreams they'd been having were about, what they were to expect, etcetera.

They were embarrassingly grateful and willing to do almost anything, despite the fact they weren't whores anymore.

Xander found it difficult to resist but managed because he wasn't barking up the young, nubile girl tree ever again. He found himself thinking of Dawn and that set his sights back on track where they were supposed to be.

It took several weeks to accomplish his slayer freeing goal; he had to spread them out so Cript wouldn't get suspicious. The owner grew more angry every time Xander laid eyes on him and took it out on the remaining whores, Spike being one of them.

Everyone Cript took his anger out on cringed when he came into the room with that look on his face -- the embodiment of a violent thunderstorm, he was. They looked fearful and hollow-eyed and more resigned to their fates every time they heard about another missing girl. Cript spelled them perfect again after using them as punching bags and holes to rut his frustration into and then ordered his lackeys to go find him more pretties to sell so he could make up for the losses.

Xander never did find out if the man knew what happened to the slayers or if he really was that stupid and thought they somehow got the collars off themselves and ran away without a trace. Though, he didn't want to think too deeply about it because he figured it was luck and should leave it at that or he'd jinx his good fortune.

After he was finished sending slayers off to find their destiny, Xander relaxed a little. The charms and spells Willow had given him to get the girls were good until the world ended or something so he wasn't worried about someone discovering who he was and what he'd been doing.

But that wasn't really why he was relieved the magical stuff had no expiration date.

No, he was having a bad thought. Actually, it was more like...a lot of them. Bad thoughts brought on by drinking far too much, seeing all he'd seen, and being alone for far too long in that dingy motel room across from whore!Spike.

It was times like these he missed Anya, even though they had long been over at the end.

He found himself visiting the brothel for his own purposes when he couldn't deny the need that burned inside him to...take. He had two or three of the -- legal -- girls the manager, Nelson, introduced and recommended for such a fine upstanding gentleman such as himself. He buried himself in them, roughly and sometimes without regard for how it might feel to them.

He didn't do relationships, not after Anya, not after...everything and he also didn't like having one-nighters because some of them tended to expect something out of the one night. Strangers were tricky, often dangerous and so Xander spent a lot of time with his right hand and some skin flicks or magazines he bought using cash and not the Council credit cards.

So, the Shag-Real-Ahh was the answer to his desperate need for a fuck, for closeness. The girls he was with weren't...real to him. This was what they'd been brought here to do and there was no threat of attachment.

God, he was so unfeeling toward these poor girls but he couldn't really make himself care because they'd never see even a quarter of what he'd seen or feel what he'd felt.

The girls were good, really good, and played out their parts even better, though he could still see the sadness and resignation burning deep down in the depths of their eyes when he caught their gazes unawares.

But that didn't matter. Xander was getting off using someone rather than his hand and in his book that was a very fine thing.

Yeah, he was getting pretty cynical. He was what years on the hellmouth and in the unwanted employment of the Council had made him. And he hated it.

But he had nowhere else to go and didn't know what else to do with his life at this point.

He passed Spike a time or two -- and it was then Xander noticed Spike took on women as well, just not many of them -- but the vampire never looked at him twice, just continued doing what he was doing, walking the sexy walk, playing the game he was forced to play.

He rather liked those nifty charms and spells Willow had unsuspectingly left him -- they were tools he could use to do whatever he wanted, whether it was good or not, and gave him a feeling of power that he'd never had before.

Willow really was too trusting.

Xander was jaded after Africa, after China, after Mongolia and Sri Lanka and Australia, after Mexico and Bosnia and Russia. It was time for him to take a break, on the Council's dime.

And they didn't need to know what he was doing...he was still getting them their slayers, wasn't he?

It really wasn't any of their business what he did. He was working for them, doing his job with nary a retort or a complaint and he hadn't had a break in three years.

Working had kept him from going insane...er. Routine, learned and continued, was the best distraction.

So, he dialed up Giles, told him he needed a break and some funds and that he'd call him when he was ready to get back to work. Giles was as genial as he always was, British to the core and polite as ever, acting as the father figure Xander had never had but always wanted, and agreed that he deserved a little vacation and some money as recompense and an incentive to continue as he had been.

And that was how Xander was set up in a decent hotel room with enough money not to burn but to keep him in beer and pretzels for the next few weeks without having to worry about keeping a deadline.

And that was how Xander was able to keep an eye on Spike from both inside the Shag-Real-Ahh and from across the street, watching his every move and keeping tabs on what he did, who he did...and it was in no way stalking.

He felt this...obsession taking him over. Thoughts of Spike and what he'd done during his vampiric blood-thirsty days, before and even after the soul...they consumed him.

Watching Spike do things with these men...burned him.

The way he moved, the sound of his laugh, the glitter of his eyes, the shape of his scarred eyebrow as it quirked, the long curve of his pale neck...

Xander had never seen something so beautiful.

It didn't matter that Spike had saved the world for puppies of all ages and for the girl he...loved.

One act of good didn't erase a life-time, several life-times, of wrong-doing.

Xander couldn't help feel like he was losing something of himself in this new fascination with the mysteriously resurrected Spike. Never mind that the vampire was not as dead as they'd all thought, never mind that Xander hadn't liked him...

The important matter here, was...Xander found himself fantasizing.

Fantasies involving naked Spike doing naked things. Sometimes they involved Xander, sometimes it was just Spike but it was all naughty and sexy and...debasing and fun and arousing.

It filled some hollow Xander hadn't been able to fill on his own.

Which was, probably, why Xander was so...focused.

This time when he went to the brothel, he was on a mission of a different kind. No more pretty girls offered up on a silver platter, no more slayers to jail-break and babysit, no more Jerick Cript, the owner, pushing him into taking one of the less popular whores because they weren't earning their keep.

No, he was having Spike. One way or another.

He'd taken the appearance of a moderately young, professional looking businessman, handsome and to be respected, and rubbed the necklace in the specific pattern Willow had taught him to make it stick on this particular glamour.

Learning was fun when it involved deception -- and getting something he wanted.

He stepped up to the front desk, all official in its capacity with forms and clipboards and business cards and everything, and tapped the little bell.

A smiling Nelson came to the desk, no recognition in his eyes, and said a chipper 'welcome to Shag-Real-Ahh', as was his habit.

Xander secretly patted the necklace tingling against his skin and smirked back as he fingered his shirt collar. "I'd like the house special."

Nelson's eyes narrowed only slightly, body stiffening a little. "The special is...very busy, sir. He's quite the favourite...booked up for days in advance, sometimes weeks. I might be able to get you in," he looked down at his little book and flipped a few pages, "two weeks from next Thursday. If all goes well. Why don't I set you up for someone else, eh? I've got several lovely..."

Xander put his hand in his pocket and grasped the other little charm he possessed that ensured his easy entrance into the brothel. He rubbed it between thumb and forefinger and stared into the other man's eyes and suddenly Nelson was a little more amenable.

"Of course, sir. If you'll just sign this I'll go get you a preferred customer's card and you can revisit any time and ask for PJ. You'll get him whenever you like. Just hand over this card and you'll be treated accordingly. It's nice doing business with you."

Xander smiled smugly and tucked the card into his empty pants' pocket. He followed Nelson through the den, where most of the whores were lounging about on velvet and satin pillows and couches showing off their goods in hopes of making a sale, and through a maze of dim corridors painted red -- for passion or lust or incredible tackiness -- with thick doors lining both sides.

They ascended two sets of stairs to reach the second floor and then strolled down a dark hall that was nearly silent, save for a few moans and a scream or two and the sound of flesh against flesh.

This hall was dark green and on second glance Xander noted that it was far nicer than the downstairs. The walls had swirling designs in pale gold and it was then he realised it was extremely nice wallpaper. The expensive rug made to fit covered most of a parquet floor all the way down to the end where a window overlooked a small courtyard out back. This floor smelled like citrus and sex.

Nelson stopped at the last door and smiled back at Xander in the darkness. Xander just stared at him blankly, impatiently, and Nelson finally took a keychain from his pocket and unlocked the door.

Xander blinked at the entwined couple on the bed. Spike was on top, all pale skin and rippling muscles and peroxide hair with strangely alluring dark roots, moaning with plump pink lips parted, white teeth clenched, hands running down his own body while the fat slob underneath watched him and struggled to thrust up to meet him.

The binding collar was dark and tight, stark in contrast with the vampire's slim, pale neck.

He was pretty like that.

He was riding the portly, middle-aged man tied to the wrought iron bed slats with leather cuffs who was watching quite avidly, sweat beading his graying temples, his chest and his upper lip as he panted through thin lips and a splotchy face.

"PJ, you have...new business. Mr. Flattley, I'm going to have to apologise for the interruption. You'll be comp’d for this visit and your next will be free. You can have your pick of anyone other than PJ here because I'm afraid he's just been booked solid for the next six weeks."

Huh. Maybe there were other guys here. Xander had never seen them, though...

Spike stopped what he was doing, looking odd sitting still with a cock up his ass like it was nothing, and looked at Xander, a slight frown wrinkling the flawless skin between his dark eyebrows.

Xander vaguely wondered what the vampire saw, what he thought, but then decided he didn't care as he watched Spike pull off the older man's cock, hole pink and swollen and wet, and climb off the bed surprisingly fluidly so he could unlatch the man's bindings.

"Now, see here, I've been waiting three weeks and paid a pretty penny to be moved up--"

Nelson sighed, moved a picture on the wall beside him and pressed a button -- this kind of thing must've happened a lot. Within moments, a big, beefy bodyguard, no doubt not fully human if the slightly longer than normal teeth had anything to say about it, was at the door and escorting out the unruly, cursing man, who'd barely had time to pull up his pants over his painfully swollen erection.

Spike knelt on the floor, eyes downcast, hands clasped behind him when the man had been taken away.

Xander found himself extremely interested in his submissiveness and his silence.

Nelson was all smiles and fluttering hands. "PJ, you'll treat this gentleman with the utmost care and respect. He's going to be coming around a lot and is one of our preferred clients. He'll be one of your regulars. You're to do whatever he likes for however long he wishes. Three of your other regulars have been bumped but I'm sure they'll understand..."

"Yes, sir," Spike said softly, still and perfect as a marble statue.

Xander swallowed hard, examining the bound cock, hard and bobbing between Spike's thighs, and the smooth alabaster of his skin as it skimmed over his bones.

"I'll just leave you to it, then. Pleasure to meet you and have your business, sir."

And then Xander was alone with Spike.

Part Two

The door clicked shut behind Nelson, locking Xander and Spike inside, and suddenly Xander's gusto disappeared, the wind in his sails dissipated, and he found himself at a loss for what to do.

He noticed Spike casting covert glances up at him through dark, girlishly long lashes and smirked.

"So...PJ? You're the special, huh? What makes you so special? Don't look very special... You look like anybody else..."

A muscle in Spike's jaw ticked but he answered evenly and without the snide tone Xander knew he wanted to use. "I have many talents..."

"Name a few. I'm curious. I'd also like specifics and to know if I'm getting my money's worth." Xander crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, the picture of nonchalance and cockiness.

Spike sighed softly, eyes going unfocused as he began listing things from memory. "I don't bruise easily. I can handle rough sex better than ‘most anyone and often enjoy a bit of pain. I can do bondage and sado-masochism either way you want it, submissive or dominant. I've been told I'm quite good at sucking cock and eating cunt. I'm flexible and I can ride a man or fuck a woman better than anyone in this establishment. I have more stamina than you've ever seen."

Xander's breathing sped up slightly. He wanted to take Spike, make him do everything he wanted, use him like he deserved.

"Interesting. Really interesting. So, what's PJ stand for, anyway?"

This time Spike didn't try to hide the roll of his eyes or his embarrassment. He scoffed, "Precious Jewel. That sod...er, M...aster Jerick gave me the name when he discovered my...talents. He acquiesced when I...asked to be called PJ instead of the whole kit n' bloody caboodle. PJ's a bit better than the other, I reckon. At least most don't know what it stands for and never ask." Spike sighed. "He tends to name the dolls as he sees fit. Makes it...less personal or more agreeable to clients, I expect. Us having names makes us actual people, right? Most just want a hole to fuck -- don't care about anything else."

Xander almost snickered. It was priceless. Spike's new name was Precious Jewel and he was here, first hand, experiencing the utter humiliation the vampire was being put through.

Ah, just like the good old days back in Sunny D in his basement. Except, here, Spike couldn't talk back and would never know it was Xander Harris using him and making his humiliation even more...well, just more.

"Well, Precious, I don't like sloppy seconds. Is there some place you can go...clean yourself out? That guy didn't look like he was...shower fresh."

"Yes, sir." Spike stood, glided elegantly to the other side of the room and opened a hidden door made specially to blend in with the rest of the wall. Inside was a nice but small bathroom with a shower-slash-bathtub, sink and toilet.

"Don't shut the door. I'd like to watch," Xander said, eyes glittering, as Spike stopped short of closing the door and re-opened it without pause.

"Yes, sir," Spike said, strangely agreeable despite the odd gleam in his eyes. "Whatever you wish."

Watching Spike clean out his own ass -- hot water and soap and a few fingers sliding inside sensuously, slowly, muscled legs quivering and spread wide -- was...incredibly arousing. Xander didn't even know he had that kind of kink and he'd done a lot of weird shit with Anya.

The vampire did it kneeling in the shower cubicle facing away from Xander so he could get a perfect view of the tube from the enema kit going up a tight little ass.

Xander had to tamp down on the signals going to his little brain and squeezed his cock hard through his pants to ensure he wouldn't blow his load before he got to have any fun.

He'd been called a lot of things but a premature ejaculator wasn't one of them.

After that was over and Spike had showered off and put away the kit, they went back into the bedroom.

Xander grabbed Spike's arm and stopped him before he could get to the bed. "Wait. I want you to kneel over the bed, brace yourself with your hands. I want to...see how good a job you did on your ass."

Spike looked at him silently, then turned and did as he was ordered.

Oh, it was such a fucking turn-on to have Spike doing whatever he told him to.

The sight of Spike's body bent for his appraisal was enough to make Xander's cock weep a little more in his pants.

And speaking of pants...

He opened his fly and let the jeans dangle from his hips, then massaged himself through his boxers with a groan. He saw Spike tense and grinned, sauntering over to stand behind the vampire. He could tell Spike wanted to turn and look but was too well trained to do so.

He positioned himself between Spike's spread legs and grabbed his ass and squeezed. He gave into the urge to thrust against his backside but only did it once...or twice.

He stared down at the firm flesh, licking his lips. "You've got a very nice ass. Taut and pale and...I'm sure you're virgin tight, right?"

Spike hissed as Xander's hands grew rougher, arms locking so he stayed in position. "Yes, sir."

"That's good," Xander murmured, one hand sliding over the curve of Spike's clenching buttocks and the other shifting toward the cleft to feel the wet skin of Spike's pucker. "Lube?"

"Drawer over there," Spike grit out as one of Xander's fingernails scraped against the sensitive flesh, jerking his head toward the bedside table.

Xander got the lube and squeezed some out onto his fingers. He rubbed them together and then unceremoniously shoved two of them up Spike's ass. They went in easily due to the washing out Spike had done -- and because Spike had been getting fucked when Xander had come in earlier -- but Xander wanted to be sure he wouldn't hurt himself on the way in.

Spike gave a choked sound but stayed put.

Xander's mouth went lax as he felt just how tight Spike was, even though he'd been getting fucked in the ass just a few minutes ago. His groin tightened painfully and he used every meditation technique he'd learned in Africa and the Orient to get himself back in control.

He fucked Spike with his fingers, found the little spongy gland he'd discovered was so much fun with Anya and a couple of others, and massaged it until Spike was gasping and quivering and trying to drive himself back on Xander's digits.

Xander shoved his pants and boxers down with his free hand and pulled his fingers free.

Spike whined his disappointment before he could stop himself.

"What's that?" Xander asked, maliciously. "I didn't tell you you could talk, did I?"

"No, sir," Spike admitted. "But, technically, you didn't say I couldn't."

Xander chuckled. "I'll let you have that one. And just for that...you can make all the noise you want. Maybe we'll experiment with gags later, though."

And with that, Xander slicked lubricant over his cock with a few flicks of his wrist and shoved himself into Spike with one hard, forceful thrust that sent the vampire up onto the balls of his feet.

Spike yelped and then groaned, hands clutching at the mattress in front of him. He fell forward onto his forearms and widened his stance so he could still stay in a comfortable position as Xander began to fuck him with brutal, snapping thrusts of his hips that shook the bed and almost pushed Spike across it.

Xander stared down at the bent body in front of him, watched himself sliding in and out of Spike's clenching hole and groaned. He latched onto the blond's hips and spread his legs so he could have more leverage to pound into Spike's tightness.

Spike made gasping little whimpers after each hard shove and grunted when his own cock was pressed into the bed and treated to rough friction.

After a few minutes, and this could attest to how alone and out of practice he'd been after all these years of near celibacy, Xander was already close to climax.

His hands began to roam Spike's supple back, marveling at the smoothness of his soft skin and the near hairless state of his entire body.

He'd think Jerick Cript made Spike wax his body but for the fact he could see tiny light-coloured hairs on his arms and legs and Spike had a full bush of pubic hair, which Xander reached down and yanked.

Spike bucked at the touch and keened. "Please," he gasped.

Xander was full of his power over the vampire, the need to express it, to take all he could because of it, and couldn't hold out any longer.

He slammed into the cool clasp of Spike's ass one last time as his body convulsed and every inch of him tingled like that time he'd gotten salsa in a cut that hadn't fully scabbed over. Only this was a good tingling, the kind that made his knees go weak and his balls churn out his climax until he thought they were going to shrivel up and drop right off his body and he wouldn't have cared even if they had.

He came in Spike like it was the first and last time he'd ever get to and then collapsed on the vampire's back; Spike's quivering arms were the only thing that prevented them from falling.

He collected himself, slowly, and his cock softened and slipped out. He stood up and looked down at the still form and the well-used hole that leaked his seed.

He swallowed, cleared his throat and did up his pants with unsteady fingers even as he felt a small spark of arousal ignite anew. He ran his hand through his damp hair and blinked the sweat from his eyes. "You can get up, you know."

Spike slowly unwound from his supplicating position and turned and knelt in front of Xander. "Would you like something else, sir? I could bathe you or clean you with my mouth? Or would you rather I...get you in the mood again?"

Xander blinked and sat down on the edge of the bed, suddenly having a surreal moment. "Give me a minute."

"As you wish, sir."

Spike stayed on his knees, back to Xander, apparently content to stay quiet -- and harder than a rock, unfulfilled -- until Xander made his desires known.

"You want me to keep calling you Precious?"

Spike sighed, shoulders rolling a little. "Don't usually like it but...you can call me that if you want. Or PJ. Whatever you like."

"What's your real name? Would you rather me call you by your real name? Precious is a little fruity."

"That's not possible."

"No, it really is...it's really, really gay."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Not that, you git. The other. Can't call me by my given name."

Xander frowned, indignant. "Why not? Am I not good enough to know your real name or what? It's not like I'd tell Jerick, anyway. He’s a real dick... And you can turn to face me. I like it when people look me in the eyes when I'm speaking to them. I want to know why you feel like you can't tell me. It can't be that bastard Jerick that's keeping you from telling me..."

Why was Spike being such a hard-headed prick about this? It was just an exchanging of names, for fuck's sake! Xander really couldn't keep calling Spike 'Precious'. Not if he wanted to keep his sanity...or keep from laughing his ass off.

Besides, he'd just fucked the shit out of Spike. He figured he was entitled to use his real name.

Spike turned and looked at him, guileless blue eyes blinking innocently -- it unnerved Xander. Then he slowly rolled to his feet and sat gingerly on the bed next to Xander, not too close and not too far.

Well, Xander didn't say he could get on the bed with him but...whatever.

"I can't tell you my name, sir."

"I'll tell you mine..." Xander thought frantically for a moment for another reason why he should just fucking tell it already, then was saved when Spike spoke before he could blurt out something he shouldn't.

"It's not because I don't want to or that it's against the rules. I don't know anything but PJ."

"What?"

Spike's gaze was intent, blue high beams cutting through the thick fog of Xander's brain. "I can't tell you my name because I don't know it. I don't know anything before being...here."

Xander blinked, shock coursing through him. "You have amnesia?"

"That's about the size of it."

"Oh."

Xander's fingers clenched on his thighs.

Oh.

This amnesia thing was unexpected but also put things into a new perspective.

How was he going to get even with Spike if Spike didn't even know he was Spike?

"That...sucks," he said finally, weakly, for lack of anything else to say.

And it did suck. Xander was feeling...well, feelings and was very indecisive about what he wanted to do now that he knew about Spike's particular predicament.

Spike shrugged. "Don't remember anything so I can't miss anything. I like to look at it like that, you know, or I'll get depressed and want to murder myself...or someone else for the injustice of it all. I've been here three months and this is my life now. That's what I've had to deal with and it's all I can do, really."

Somehow, that struck a sad chord inside Xander but he squashed that feeling down and took a deep breath. He stood, awkwardly stumbling in his haste to put distance between himself and Spike.

"I gotta go."

Spike frowned. "You've only just begun... We've the whole night, whole day if you want it. I'm sure Nelson or Master Jerick would cancel some of my other appointments if you told 'em you wanted me..."

Xander didn't hear the sadness in Spike's voice, or see his pleading glance, because he wasn't looking at him and his brain wasn't working properly anymore.

He felt...guilt.

Why the hell was he feeling guilt over fucking Spike? Over seeking revenge that was rightfully his to seek out?

He cursed himself, Spike and the damned Scoobies and their do-gooding that apparently went more than skin deep; even the ravages of life he'd been through in the last few years couldn't blot out what he was, deep in his marrow.

"I'll be back. I'm sorry. I just remembered I have...to do something. I'll be back, I promise."

He didn't look back as he nearly ran to the door, clawing at the lock and breaking a couple of fingernails off to the quick in his fumbling haste. He shut the door with a soft thud, only just remembering not to slam it because he didn't want any more attention brought to himself.

He didn't see the disappointment or confusion on Spike's face when he left, or the loneliness that was stark and consuming.

He fled down the stairs and composed himself, barely, as he exited the Shag-Real-Ahh and went to the sanctuary of his hotel room.

He took solace from his unmade bed, the bag lying open at the foot of it, the clothes he'd dumped on the floor, and the empty food wrappers and packages that lined the bedside table and that had fallen on the floor...

The throbbing in his torn finger tips that beat in time with his racing, traitor heart.

He took off the amulet and jammed his hand into his pocket to get rid of that compliancy stone. He set both on the dresser and stared at them for a moment before taking a deep breath.

He ripped all of his clothes off and took the hottest shower he could stand...then turned off all the hot water and shivered under the blast of cold that pelted down on him.

Blinking water from his eyes, he shoved the wet strands of hair from his face and finally washed himself until his skin was sore. The ripped skin of his fingers bled and stung.

After it was over and he was clean and dry and dressed in old clothes -- comfort clothing -- he sat on the bed eating fried chicken, staring unblinkingly at the television.

Yeah, deep down he really was a good guy but that didn't mean he was perfect. He still had plans for Spike, just...maybe not quite as devious or demeaning as they had been before he discovered Spike's deficiency.

He didn't know what his plans were but...he couldn't let Spike go. Not like this. Not with how the vampire had looked at him, like Xander could solve all of his problems. Not with how he'd resigned himself to being a whore after knowing nothing about his past or who he was.

Not that Xander was going to tell him anything about the past.

Not that Xander wanted to give up his revenge plan.

Not that Xander had any fucking clue what in hell it was that he was doing.

Part Three

After a lot of thought, Xander discovered that Spike's amnesia really didn't have to prevent him from seeking out justice -- justice in the only way he could take it without it weighing heavily on his conscience, anyway.

Spike might not have known who he was or what he'd done in his long life but Xander did; Xander remembered.

As long as someone remembered the crimes, the criminal should be punished.

He went back the next day with a fresh view, a jaunty bounce in his step. He was shown up to Spike's room and given a knowing grin and a jab in the ribs with a sharp elbow and left alone to play with his new toy.

Spike was on the bed when he went inside, belly down on the velvet coverlet, fast asleep. His naked skin looked like smooth vanilla cream against the darker bed cover.

It was two in the afternoon, he discovered after looking at the clock beside the bed a little impatiently. Vampire nappy time, Xander remembered from his days with Spike in the basement and then later in his apartment, when the First was spreading chaos all over Sunnydale and the vampire had been foisted on him because he'd been the only one with the space.

Time to wake up, though, because Xander was horny and had amnesiac vampires to fuck.

Xander crept up on the surprisingly heavy sleeper Spike turned out to be and ran a finger down the line of his back until he got to the swell of his buttocks. He raised the hand and smacked one bare cheek.

Spike woke up with a groggy start and focused wild eyes on Xander a moment before relaxing. "Oh. Hello. Sir."

Spike's smile was slow and pleased, as if he were happy to see Xander.

Xander felt better already.

"Hello, Precious. You're quite the heavy sleeper, aren't you? I could've staked you and you would never have known."

Spike frowned slightly and sat up, stretching out taut, sleepy muscles. He looked pensive and wary. His cock was soft against one thigh. "Stake? You know I'm a vampire?"

Xander dropped his arm back to his side, then mentally shrugged. He hadn't meant to give his hand away but... "Yeah. I know."

"Oh, well. Makes it easier, then." Spike started to throw his legs over the side of the bed when Xander stopped him, so he lay back down and posed himself so that every line of his body was emphasized for Xander's viewing pleasure.

"Apparently, I'm prone to night terrors. For vampires, that's...well, let's just say I woke up a couple of times with my teeth in a customer’s neck -- without permission, of course. When...the Master finally realised I wasn't lying about not knowing what the hell happened, he gave me this potion to mix up that ensured I'd sleep through the day without harming anyone I wasn't supposed to. Just stir it up in my blood and voila! No more killing people in my sleep. Takes a bit to wake me up, as you've seen, but I think this is safer. Much better for me to be difficult to rouse than to sleep-kill. Just because I'm a demon, doesn't mean I have to be a bad guy."

A cold feeling of familiarity swept down Xander's spine.

Spike had killed in a sleep-walking-like state those last few weeks in Sunnydale. Could this be some sort of sense-memory thing? His body remembered but his mind didn't?

Was Spike re-enacting what had happened before because his subconscious was aware of what had gone on, what he was, what he'd done?

Xander pushed those thoughts away because he wasn't going to let the past ruin his present.

And Spike served up naked on a bed, willing and able to do whatever he wanted was a very fine present, indeed.

"Well...it's good that I can expect not to be killed if I ever spend the night with you." He forced a quirk to his lips.

Spike grinned up at him, reaching out with one pale, long-fingered hand devoid of the black polish Xander had grown used to over the years. "Don't think you'd have to worry, pet. I've only gone after those who I'd felt some sort of animosity toward; a lot of bastards have come to me. I rather like you."

Xander took the hand Spike offered and crawled onto the bed and pressed the vampire down into the mattress with his body. He rolled his hips and watched Spike's eyelashes flutter with a smugness he didn't ordinarily get to feel.

Thank God for amnesia, was Xander's final thought as he was pushed over onto his back and a naked satyr opened his pants and inhaled his cock.

Sometimes, when Xander went to see Spike the vampire would greet him at the door, naked and on his knees, submissive and willing to play the part expertly.

Other times, he'd be dressed in a flimsy pair of pajama bottoms that hid absolutely nothing of the perfection of his body that Xander would rip him out of, mouth quirked, eyebrow raised, smug expression on his face because he knew what Xander wanted and was going to play coy about it.

Spike loved Xander's dick, loved getting fucked however and wherever and whenever Xander did it.

Xander made him beg.

Xander discovered he liked making Spike beg. Very much.

Sometimes, they bathed together, Xander behind Spike while the vampire lazed about in the hot water, rubbing not-so-innocently against Xander's erection.

It felt good to hold someone like that again. He and Anya had shared baths sometimes, when she didn't want alone time with rose petals and bubble foam and her waterproof vibrator -- she liked having a girl's night all to herself.

Sometimes, Spike simply knelt outside the tub and bathed Xander like one of those slave boys in pre-Christian Rome.

They fucked everywhere they could manage, even facing the mirror against the bathroom sink, which was a real kink for Xander. He watched himself fucking into what seemed like nothing, making those squinty, pained orgasm faces that always looked funny. The feel of Spike's body was almost an afterthought but the noises he made spurred him on harder and faster.

They fucked in the courtyard under gnarled, leafy tree branches sheltering them from the moon, the private little sauna out beyond it with Xander sweating and dripping on an enthusiastic vampire who licked the droplets up, the kitchen downstairs when no one was about with Spike as look out because of his enhanced senses.

Spike once asked about the amulet he wore all the time and never removed but Xander deflected his touch and the question by sucking Spike's cock for a change.

Xander learned he was an avid cock-sucker and enjoyed it immensely. He also got good at it -- Spike was a good teacher.

It made him wonder what else he'd enjoy that he hadn't thought of doing to Spike or allowing Spike to do to him.

There were times when he contemplated using the 'amenable' stone on Spike but then Spike did what he wanted anyway so it was moot, right?

The thrill of the thought of it, though, was enough to make him fuck Spike harder and deeper and cum with such intensity that he thought he'd blown his brain out of his dick.

He ended up never having to use the stone.

When he started feeling differently about Spike, he'd never know. He also didn't know why, but...

Xander couldn't prevent himself from setting up a routine in his visitations to Spike...or, rather, set up his day to work around his meetings with Spike. Not that he really did much, anymore....he mostly slept or watched TV or went to a bar down the street when he felt cooped up and in need of getting out of that tiny boxed-in place.

He did start going every day and spending several hours with Spike. Spike was a drug he was growing addicted to and couldn't get enough of.

He learned Spike gave the best blow-jobs he'd ever had and that a non-breathing vampire was the best cock-sucker on the planet. He learned Spike had an insatiable appetite and would willingly do pretty much anything Xander asked; he rarely showed a dislike for anything and Xander could see when he did despite the good pretense he made to hide his feelings. Spike could be fucked however long it took Xander to cum and however hard Xander wanted to give it to him.

Spike was really sensitive and a lot of the time Xander only had to tell him to cum and he would, whether it was after a lot of stimulation and teasing or if Xander had just finished fucking him and too busy cumming up his ass to touch Spike's swollen cock.

Then, Xander began spending more nights at the bordello than he was at the hotel, spending more time around the man behind the vampire, and that was when he started seeing the vampire as a...person and not a thing, as he had since he'd known Spike.

He started to see that Spike wasn't William the Bloody, at least not wholly, that he had thoughts and feelings and was actually...nicer than anyone had been to him in a long time.

They talked when they weren't screwing. He ate with Spike and Spike ate human food with him and sometimes brought blood in to drink when he got over his initial discomfort at showing that side of himself.

When Spike showed his demon face it was almost beautiful, feline and fierce.

Xander had never been comfortable with Spike feeding in front of him before but found this show of trust to be a big step and felt appropriate amounts of smugness over the fact.

It was all he could do not to hop around the room making an ass of himself doing the Snoopy dance.

The more time he spent with 'Precious', though, the more Xander found he wanted to spend with him. Spike was addictive, and almost sweet sometimes. He was genial and did a lot of things Xander knew he liked and a lot he hadn't known he would, which absolutely blew his mind.

It was a dangerous game.

Xander never did well with just sex, no matter who it was.

Anya and Faith were sterling examples of that.

The few one-night-stands he'd had had nearly killed him because of his nasty little habit of becoming too attached, but he'd slugged through, gotten what he'd needed, given them what they'd wanted and then decided he couldn't do it anymore.

Which was why he hadn't taken a vacation in years at this point.

Which was why bordellos were nice places to visit.

Finding Spike had been like finding gold. Or platinum with dark roots, as the case was.

Xander gasped and arched off the bed as Spike rode him leisurely, hands braced on Xander's heaving chest. He lightly scratched down Xander's chest with his fingernails and grinned when Xander gasped.

Xander's eyes squeezed shut tight like the grip he had on the vampire's hips as he bucked up and buried himself just a little deeper.

He groaned and moved Spike's body, trying to get him to change the pace, but Spike didn't give in because he knew just how to tease Xander.

Xander loved it.

God, how he loved it.

He rolled his pelvis up into Spike at an angle and grinned as he heard the other man's sharp hiss and felt him shudder around him and above him.

He opened his eyes and smirked. "Like that, don't you?"

Spike opened his own eyes and smiled down at him, teeth sharp and glittering and white as he leaned forward to nibble on Xander's bottom lip. "Yeah," he sighed, anchoring his hands on either side of Xander's shoulders as he started to fuck himself on Xander's cock with shallower, faster thrusts.

"God, yes," Xander hissed, falling into blue eyes without meaning to. He didn't look away as his body tingled and tensed and he came.

Spike, on the other hand, threw back his head when his own climax flowed through him and ground himself down on Xander's still pulsing prick, cumming all over Xander's clenching stomach with a muffled cry.

He collapsed soon after, breathing harshly, face contorted into a mixture of demon and human features.

Xander found this inexplicably sexy.

Soon, the demonic changes melted away and the angelic facade was back in place and Spike was blinking with glassy-eyed satiation as he lifted his head.

"God, I love fucking you. Makes me feel like this isn't such a...chore. Like I'm not forced to do this. Like I'm with someone who actually likes being with me for other than the paid sex parts."

Xander bit his lip as Spike pulled off him and lay down at his side. He automatically wrapped an arm around Spike's waist as the vampire snuggled up against him.

"How'd you get here, anyway?"

"Well, see, you and me, we fucked, right? Then, there was this bloody spectacular orgasm and--"

"You're such an asshole."

Spike chuckled. "I know."

This was a familiar Spike, one he knew very well, but without the Spike-ishness that made him Spike. It was different, disconcerting, to look into the vampire's eyes and not see Spike in there while he was talking to him or fucking him -- not that he'd have fucked the Spike he'd known back in Sunnydale. He found that he actually liked the snark without the snide bitterness and hatred behind it.

He mentally rolled his eyes. "How'd you get in this place? Collared and forced into sexual slave labour, dumbass."

Spike grew quiet, frowning. His body tensed a little at Xander's side and Xander found himself rubbing a comforting touch over Spike's finger-bruised, protruding hip bone.

Finally, the vampire began to talk, hesitantly. "It's all hazy, the beginning, but...I remember falling down hard and being naked and the temperature changed from burning, boiling heat that scorched me through to a balming cool so fast it was...strange and very disorienting. I can't accurately describe that part of it. Don't know where I was but...I think someone who knew me shipped me off and I ended up here."

Xander froze. "Someone you knew?"

"Yeah. When I woke up there were people around me. Seemed to be freaking out and all talking at once but...this bloke that was in charge scowled and called me a lot of names, tossed a jacket at me and told me to cover myself up, and...then it all went black till I was being shoved in a metal van and escorted out of there. They never told me where I was going or who I was or where I'd been or anything...it's like they wanted to get rid of me as soon as possible...and they did at that."

Spike sighed.

"You remember anything else? Details?"

"Was kind of cold in that room, guess the A/C was pumped up quite a bit. It was a luxurious office suite and everyone there was dressed like they had money to burn. There was a green guy with horns wearing this horrible magenta coloured suit and a black bloke, two pretty birds and an English man with stubble and then...a vampire. Had stuck up hair and a poncey outfit that looked expensive. Caveman brow, dark eyes that seemed to sear right into my soul. Well...if I had a soul, anyway. Remember him throwing that out as an insult, right clear. About how I was evil and shouldn't be there and all this bugaboo about it being his ruddy office and of all the places for me to turn up..."

Angel? Angel had found Spike after his resurrection and sent him off to serve in a brothel?

What a two-faced, hypocritical dickwad!

"That bastard!" Xander hissed without meaning to.

Spike leaned up and looked at him closely, frowning. "Do you know me? Know the bastard that sent me here?"

Oh, crap.

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