Xander trudged through the dark night of Sunnydale, slightly dispirited. They had been researching late in the library for any information they could find out about Spike—just as they had been doing the last couple of nights—but to no avail. Giles wanted to learn as much as he could about the blond vampire so they were prepared for whatever he might throw at them next.

They’d escaped Parent-Teacher Night relatively unscathed, but Giles was certain they hadn’t seen the last of Spike, especially since they’d heard rumors that he had killed the Anointed One and taken over the remnants of the Master’s court. Xander was more worried about his own neck, though he’d been too embarrassed to mention Angel’s brilliant ‘plan’ to anyone.

He snorted to himself. And Angel hadn’t been much help at all. Not only had he been the one to offer Xander’s neck to the blond vampire to munch on, he’d had very little information to impart about Spike. He claimed that he hadn’t seen the other vampire in nearly 96 years, but Xander thought he was hiding something. Of course, it could just be that he didn’t trust the dark vampire as far as he could throw him, which wasn’t very far at all.

So, after yet another unproductive night of research, Buffy and Angel had gone on patrol, and Xander walked Willow home before heading to his own house. As he started up the walk to the front porch, he froze. Moonlight glinted off the bleached-blond hair of the vampire sitting on the steps. He was wearing all black—jeans, t-shirt, boots, and duster—broken only by the red button-down shirt, and casually leaning back on his elbows, a cigarette dangling between the fingers of one hand. Xander’s breath caught, and his heart pounded in his chest. He simultaneously reached into his jacket pocket and took an alarmed step back.

“Running won’t change nothin’,” the vampire drawled easily, taking a deep drag off the cigarette, and then pinching it out before throwing it away. “‘Cept piss me off that I had to chase you down. Then again...” He paused, smirked. “I do so enjoy a good chase. Makes the blood taste sweeter.” He ran his eyes over Xander. “Go ahead, run.”

Xander swallowed hard and forced himself not to run. “What do you want?” he asked, barely able to speak through a throat nearly closed shut with fear, as he wrapped his fingers around the stake.

“I want what’s mine,” Spike said, rising gracefully from the step.

“Wh-what’s that supposed to mean?” Xander asked, taking a second nervous step backwards.

Spike looked him over obviously, another smirk curving his lips, his tongue running over his teeth suggestively and then peeking between curled lips as he took a step towards him.

“Oh, no!” Xander said, backpedaling as he fumbled with the stake, finally managing to pull it out of his pocket after untangling it from the material. He didn’t know exactly what Spike was implying, but he knew it couldn’t be good.

Before he realized what was happening, Spike was standing right in front of him. The blond grasped his wrist and effortlessly disarmed him. Spike examined the stake and then tossed it over his shoulder.

“Careful,” he mocked. “You could get hurt with that.”

Xander tugged at his wrist in a futile attempt to get away from the vampire. “Let go!” he said, his voice rising in panic. “I’m not yours!” he cried, trying to sound forceful, but instead sounding pitifully weak. Damn Angel!

“Bollocks,” Spike said. “Gift from my sire, you were.” He looked Xander over again, and there was no mistaking the heat in his gaze, the intent. “I’m accepting.”

Xander’s eyes grew wide with understanding and he looked around wildly for anything that could help him.

“Go ahead, scream,” Spike hissed. “I’m feeling a might peckish.” He smirked as Xander blanched at the thought of someone running to his rescue—not that anyone would in Sunnydale—and being killed for their efforts.

“Why are you doing this?” he squeaked, his voice tremulous with fright. If by some chance he survived this, he was going to kill Angel.

“Told you,” Spike snarled. “Just coming to collect what’s mine.” He closed his fingers in Xander’s hair and pulled, tilting his head back.

“No,” Xander moaned in terror as Spike morphed and lowered his head. He pushed against the vampire’s chest, but his whole body was shaking, and it was like trying to move a brick wall.

“You done playing yet?” Spike asked, cool breath tickling Xander’s neck. His voice sounded funny around his fangs, but Xander was certain he was being mocked again.

“No!” he cried, desperation fueling his attempts to free himself as he hit and kicked at the vampire.

“Enough,” Spike growled, forcefully shoving Xander back into the shadows and pressing him against a tree. He lowered his face to Xander’s neck and sniffed him.

Xander was too scared to wonder what Spike was doing. He knew he was going to die. His life passed before his eyes as he felt the rough rasp of the vampire’s tongue laving his throat, and then the sting as sharp fangs tenderly grazed his skin before sinking in. He wished he’d had a chance to say goodbye to Willow. He wished he’d had a chance to stake Angel for offering his neck to Spike in the first place.

Spike let go of Xander’s wrist and wrapped his arm around the boy, pulling him close and pressing their bodies together. He drew on his blood slowly, savoring the taste of it as it flowed over his tongue. His original plan had been to tear the boy’s throat out, drain him and leave his lifeless body for Angelus and the Slayer to find. A message. A warning.

A promise.

Suddenly he wasn’t so sure he wanted to eliminate the source of the blood he was currently enjoying. The scent of the boy’s fear had been tantalizing him, teasing him since the night Angelus presented his neck in offering, and the heady aroma once more filling his nostrils made him hard. That was unexpected. Even more surprising was the glorious taste of Xander’s blood. It now occurred to him that it would be smart to keep the boy around for a while.

With Xander alive, he’d have a ready source of the rich, delicious ambrosia flowing through the boy’s veins, and still be able to prick Angelus’ pride. No matter how he tried, Xander wouldn’t be able to keep Spike’s bite hidden from the dark vampire, and the look on Angelus’ face when he realized Spike had tasted the boy would be priceless. He just wished he could be there to see it.

Spike reluctantly withdrew his fangs from Xander’s neck and licked the bite until it stopped bleeding. The intoxicating scent of fear was now combined with the unanticipated and powerful perfume of arousal. Spike breathed deeply, pulling the potent, stimulating odors into his body as he ground his pelvis against Xander’s. Oh, yeah, he thought. Leaving the boy alive was a bloody brilliant idea.

Letting go of Xander, he stood back, making sure the boy was able to support himself against the tree. He let the demon slide away, and tenderly rubbed his thumb over Xander’s lips. Lips he hadn’t tasted yet, but thought he might one night soon. Xander stared back at him through glazed eyes.

“I’ll be back,” he whispered, and then turned and disappeared into the night. He adjusted his erection in his tight jeans and set off to find a nice spot of violence.

Xander fidgeted nervously, unable to keep his attention on the book that lay open in front of him. He was supposed to be reading it for any information he could find on Spike, but he couldn’t concentrate, and the words swam before his eyes. Unfortunately, he already knew more about the blond vampire than he wanted to. And a little bit more about himself.

He’d been scared spitless the night before, but that was no surprise. Xander might not be the bravest person, but Spike was enough to frighten the most courageous individual. Except maybe Buffy. What did surprise him was the fact that he’d been left alive. And his reaction to the vampire’s bite.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened. He wondered why the blond vampire hadn’t drained him. He wondered what his body’s reaction meant. And he wondered what Spike intended to do next, as his parting words spun through his mind like a whirlpool that threatened to pull him under. ‘I’ll be back’. When? Why? he wondered fearfully, less worried about whether the vampire would kill him this time than how his body might once again betray him.

Once the initial pain of Spike’s fangs sliding into his neck passed, Xander had begun to enjoy the feel of the blood being drawn out of his body. Terror had evaporated to be replaced by...longing. God, he was a sick, sick boy! The stupid vampire had been feeding off him, and Xander had gotten a boner from it! While it was true that he was a teenage boy and nearly every other thought had to do with sex, it was inconceivable to him that he’d gotten aroused from a vampire bite.

His limbs had been weak from blood loss and lust when Spike pulled out of him—fangs! Pulled his fangs out of him!—but he still remembered the feel of the vampire’s tongue bathing his throat, his groin pressing into his. Spike had been hard, too. Xander shivered with disgust at himself, and the unwelcome sliver of desire.

“Xander, is something wrong?” Giles’ voice broke into his reverie.

“Huh? What? No! Nothing’s wrong! What could be wrong?” he babbled nervously, his fingers automatically going to the turtleneck he’d dug out of the bottom of one of his drawers that morning, making sure it still covered the bite. He’d luckily remembered getting one for Christmas several years ago from his grandmother, and was thankful that it hadn’t been given to Goodwill.

“Is that book boring you?” Giles asked facetiously.

“Uh, no. Sorry,” Xander said. “I’m just having a little trouble concentrating. Got stuff on my mind.” He tried to keep his voice low and didn’t turn to look at Willow who was sitting behind the computer on the counter.

Giles closed his book and leaned across the table. “It may not seem like it, but I do understand that you children have lives outside of helping Buffy with her slaying duties. If you have something you need to do—homework, family commitments—you needn’t feel obligated to stay. You’re certainly at liberty to leave,” he offered.

Xander’s heart started to pound as his chest clenched tight with anxiety. “No!” he cried, and then looked around furtively to make sure Willow hadn’t heard his outburst. “I mean, I don’t want to leave. I don’t need to leave.” The last thing he wanted was to be out alone after dark. “I just...I just needed to think,” he finished lamely. “And I’m done...thinking. I’ll just...”

“No sign of him,” Buffy announced as she entered the library, pushing the double doors open ahead of her with enough strength to send them slamming against their hinges. Xander looked up, thankful for the interruption until he saw Angel follow her into the library. Angel, who had offered him to Spike on Parent-Teacher Night. Angel, who he hated with a fiery passion because he was a vampire and because Buffy loved him.

His fingers clutched the forgotten book, only loosening when his grip caused a small tear in the top page. He looked down at it, and then back up guilty. Thankfully, Giles was busy questioning Buffy about patrol and hadn’t heard or seen the desecration of one of his precious tomes. Xander quickly smoothed the page and closed the book, setting it on the table and turning his attention to Buffy’s report. It would behoove him to know where Spike might have been spotted.

While Buffy spoke, Willow moved over to the table and Angel prowled the library. When her account wound down, Xander noticed the dark vampire hovering over him. “What are you doing?” he asked acerbically.

Angel sniffed the air. “I smell something...” He broke off and sniffed again. “...familiar.”

Xander paled. He could actually feel the blood drain from his face and neck. It wasn’t possible, he thought. His breathing became labored, his heart hammered in his chest, his body was enveloped in a cold sweat, his hands shook. He tried not to look at Angel, but the weight of the dark vampire’s gaze was too much to resist. Xander lifted his head and turned his face until their eyes met.

Angel’s brow was furrowed as he studied Xander. He slowly reached his hand out for the turtleneck at Xander’s throat. Xander shoved his chair back and jumped to his feet. “Don’t touch me, you freak!” he yelled.

“Xander,” Giles reprimanded him, unaware of what was going on between the two of them.

Before Xander could take another step away from the table, away from Angel, the vampire had his large hand wrapped around Xander’s wrist, and a bizarre sense of deja vu suffused him. He watched as if in a dream as Angel’s other hand moved to his neck and pulled the turtleneck away from his throat. Gasps filled the room as the two puncture wounds were exposed, and Xander slammed back into his body.

“Let go of me,” he snarled, pulling his wrist out of Angel’s suddenly slack hold.

“Spike,” the dark vampire growled.

“Spike bit you?” Willow cried. “When? How? Why?”

“I’ll kill him,” Buffy said, her voice low and dangerous.

“Xander, are you all right? Why didn’t you say something?” Giles asked in concern.

But Xander wasn’t paying any attention to them. He stared at Angel with all the hatred and fear in his young body. “This is your fault!” he charged. “You gave me to him! You fucking offered me to him like a...a present.” Xander paused, breathless. “And he’s decided to accept.”

He felt tears sting his eyes, and fought to keep them back. He was not going to cry. Not in front of his friends. Not in front of Angel.

“What are you talking about?” Buffy asked.

“I’m sorry,” Angel said. “I had no idea he’d...”

“Xander, can you tell us what happened?” Giles asked, slipping his arm around Xander’s shoulders. Xander started. He hadn’t noticed Giles moving around the table. He pulled away, blinking furiously.

“Don’t... I can’t...”

“All right,” Giles said, holding his hands up, palms facing outward. “Why don’t you sit down? Would you like some water?” he asked, his voice soothing, comforting.

Willow jumped up to get him some water without waiting for his answer. Xander walked around the table and sat stiffly in a chair as far away from Angel as he could get. When Willow placed the paper cup in front of him, Xander automatically reached for it and took a sip.

“Can you tell us what happened?” Giles asked.

Everyone was silent as they waited for Xander to tell his story. The only sound was the ‘smack, smack’ as Buffy tossed her stake from hand to hand. Willow sat in the chair beside him, her hands clasped tightly on the table to keep from reaching for him. Giles sat across from him; Angel and Buffy remained standing.

Xander took a deep breath and told his story, only leaving out the bit about the bite arousing both him and the blond vampire. When he was finished, he continued to stare at the table.

“I’m so sorry, Xander,” Giles said when he was finished. “I should never have let either of you walk home alone. I knew Spike was out there, knew he was dangerous...”

“It’s not your fault, Giles,” Xander said, his voice cracking from a combination of unshed tears, dark thoughts, and heavy emotions.

Giles stood suddenly and walked away from the table. He took his glasses off and rubbed them furiously with the handkerchief he pulled from his pocket. When he turned back, the glasses were back in place and his emotions were once again under control.

“None of you will be out alone after dark again,” he stated firmly. “I’ll give you both a ride home tonight.” No one argued with him.

For the next week and a half, Xander was never left alone after dark. If Giles wasn’t available to drive him and Willow home, either Buffy or Angel, and often both, walked them home. It turned out, however, that Spike wasn’t the only problem they had to worry about on the Hellmouth. On the Friday ten days after Spike bit him—not that he was counting—Buffy came across the remains of a power circle while on patrol.

After Buffy reported the circle to Giles, he gathered Xander and Willow up and drove them home before heading over to the park so he could take a look at the circle himself. He was practically humming with excitement as he talked to himself about what this could possibly mean, and what volume of what text might contain clues to the purpose of the circle. They dropped Willow off first, and then Giles took Xander home. In his excitement to see the circle and begin researching it, he didn’t stay to see Xander into the house.

Xander watched Giles drive away and then turned up the walkway. He froze when he heard a sound from beneath the trees. His heart was pounding so loudly in his ears he was sure everyone on the block could hear it. He watched the shadows closely, his fingers clutching the stake in his jacket pocket. When nothing jumped out at him, he turned back towards the house, letting out a little shriek when he saw Spike standing in front of him, hands in his duster pockets, head tilted to the side.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” he asked, taking an automatic step backwards.

Spike smiled, and it reminded Xander of the way Tommy Corso used to smile just before he ripped the wings off flies. “Told you I’d be back, pet,” he drawled. “Miss me?”

“No!” Xander yelped, frantically shaking his head ‘no’, even as his body thrilled at the sight of the blond vampire.

“Been dreamin’ ‘bout me, sweet boy?” Spike asked with a knowing smirk as he took a predatory step towards him.

“N-no,” Xander squeaked, stumbling back a step.

“That right?” he asked, running his eyes up and down Xander’s body. “Haven’t thought ‘bout me at all? No wet dreams, then?”

Heat suffused Xander’s body and he felt lightheaded as blood drained from his head and rushed to the surface of his skin. There was no way Spike could know about the dreams, he thought. No way he could know that every night since That Night Xander would lie awake remembering. Remembering his reaction to Spike’s bite, to the vampire’s groin rubbing against his, their erections pressing together. No way he could know that Xander woke up nearly every morning with semen cooling on his stomach as his insides knotted with disgust at his behavior.

“Leave me alone,” he pleaded hoarsely. He’d given his reaction to Spike, That Night and nearly every night thereafter, a great deal of thought over the last week and a half. He’d come to the conclusion that he might possibly be attracted to the confidence Spike exuded, and maybe the excitement of the bad-boy image and the danger he represented, but assured himself that he was not attracted to Spike himself.

For one thing, he was a vampire. An undead, bloodsucking fiend. For another, he was male, and Xander was not attracted to men. Until now. So it had to be the confident-bad-boy-danger thing, of that, Xander was certain.

“Can’t do that, pet,” Spike said, taking another step forward.

Xander wanted to run, but his feet seemed bolted to the cement. “Why?” he asked plaintively, the hand holding the stake trembling. He’d given himself a good talking-to just that morning, and though he knew he should be firm on the one hand, and making tracks for the house on the other, he couldn’t force himself to do either.

Spike just stared at him, as if he was considering what to say. “Lotsa reasons,” he finally said. “Was just gonna kill you,” he added. “Leave you for the Slayer to find. For Angelus.”

“And n-n-now?” Xander asked, fear spiking through him at the vampire’s casual dismissal of his life.

Spike lowered his head, and then looked up at him through long lashes, and flashed him a grin. “Now,” he said, “think I’m gonna keep you around for a bit.”

Xander started to hyperventilate. “Wh-wh-why?” he asked. “N-not that I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he quickly added. “Th-the keeping of me...a-alive, that is. Not that I want you to keep me... Eep!” he squealed as Spike suddenly grabbed him by the biceps, and easily lifted him off his feet and carried him into the shadows.

“P-p-put me down,” Xander demanded, or tried to demand through the nervous stutter. He was surprised when Spike actually complied, until he realized that they’d arrived at the spot where Spike was bringing him in the first place. Xander immediately found both arms shoved behind his back, his wrists gripped tightly in one of Spike’s hands.

Spike took a step nearer to him, bringing their bodies together. Xander tried to shift away from him, but only managed to wedge himself more tightly between Spike and the tree behind him as Spike’s body sinuously followed his own body’s attempts to escape. When there was no more room to maneuver, Spike moved even closer, trapping him firmly against the tree, and began to undulate against him, their groins and chests sliding together.

“No,” Xander whimpered. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want Spike to touch him, not because the thought horrified him, but because he was afraid of his body’s traitorous reaction. And that did horrify him. “Please, no.”

Spike ignored him, curled his fingers in his hair, and tilted his head to the right. Xander felt a frightening sense of deja vu as Spike began to sniff and lick the suddenly too-sensitive skin of his neck. “No,” he moaned. “No, stop, please...”

Spike’s mouth began to move up his neck to his ear as their bodies rubbed together. Xander bucked, trying to shove Spike away from him. “Oh, yeah,” Spike groaned in his ear, cool breath tickling him. “Do that again, pet.”

“No!” Xander cried, starting to struggle in earnest. “Let me go, you undead...thing, you!”

Spike dragged his tongue along Xander’s jaw. The boy tasted so bloody good, and he smelled delicious. He’d been in a near-constant state of arousal since he'd last sampled Xander’s blood ten days ago—not that he was counting— and neither shaggin’ Dru nor putting his plan to become Master of Sunnydale into motion had been enough to relieve his desire for the boy.

He’d been frustrated that Xander had been kept away from him for ten long nights; he yearned to renew the bite, taste him again. When the Watcher drove away before the boy had gotten into the house, he’d nearly howled his delight. He’d immediately grown hard with anticipation, and the way Xander was squirming against him now, he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“You wound me, pet,” Spike mocked, and then forcefully covered Xander’s lips with his own. The brunette stiffened and opened his mouth to scream. Spike took advantage and slipped his tongue inside. He explored every surface, reveling in the taste of him. Chocolate...and need. If possible, Spike got harder as the boy’s need fed his own. He kissed him hard, knowing he was probably bruising his mouth, and not caring.

By the time Spike pulled back, Xander was making little involuntary noises of pleasure deep in his throat, and his body had started to press back when Spike rubbed against him. “Oh, pet, you are a treasure, aren’t you?” he groaned into Xander’s ear before lowering his lips to his neck and licking the small scars, preparing the boy for his bite.

“No,” Xander tried one more time to stop Spike, and then cried out with pain as the fangs sank into his skin. He cried out again as Spike began to pull on his blood, though not a cry of pain this time. Spike let go of his wrists, and both hands immediately grabbed for Spike, holding on to his duster for dear life as the draw of blood out of his body caused his knees to go weak. A tingle shot to his belly, and there was a tug on his groin.

Spike cupped Xander’s buttock and pulled him in close, grinding their bodies together harder, faster, as he drank the boy’s blood. The scent of Xander’s arousal perfumed the night air and drove him wild. He sucked, and humped, and clutched desperately at the boy as his own desire mounted until he was sure he would explode.

Xander’s ears were filled with the sound of his heart pounding in his chest, his blood pumping through his body, his breath rasping in his throat. The sound was deafening, and he thought he might pass out. And then Spike sucked on his neck one last time and everything fell silent. He stiffened, and opened his mouth to scream, then his body erupted and his mind splintered.

Spike quickly but carefully pulled his fangs out of Xander’s neck and covered his mouth, absorbing his cry of release. As the boy came, shuddering against him, Spike’s body tightened, and he roared his own climax into Xander’s mouth.

When Xander regained his senses he slowly lifted his head and looked around. He was on his knees beneath the tree, his body still trembling in the aftermath of his orgasm. And he was alone. His eyes burned with shame. He pressed them closed, but felt a tear slip out anyway and run down his cheek. How could he have let himself be caught by Spike again?

Worse yet, how could his body have betrayed him so thoroughly? Even now he ached for the vampire’s touch. He lifted a quivering hand to his neck and touched the bite. He moaned at the contact, and remembered Spike licking him after their orgasms. Licking him...and promising to return. Xander had managed to say one word, ‘no’. Another tear fell and his humiliation grew, because he knew it had been a lie. And he knew that Spike knew it also.

Xander staggered to his feet, and stumbled into the house and up to his room. He removed his clothes and threw them into the hamper, and then brushed his teeth. He could still taste blood in his mouth, could still feel the rough bark of the tree against his skin. He took a shower to bathe the semen off his belly, watching the water wash it away and wishing he could just as easily wash his mortification and embarrassment away. He climbed out of the shower and dried off, then forced himself to look in the mirror.

He looked the same. He wondered how you couldn’t tell by looking at him that he was different. Weak. Disgusting. Perverted. He’d gotten off on a vampire bite. He’d had wet dreams about said vampire for over a week. He was sick. He turned his head slowly and looked at the bite on his neck. There was no way he could hide it—and then his friends would know that he was a vile and repulsive thing.

Xander pulled on a pair of boxers, climbed into bed, and let tears of self-pity and fear wet his pillow as he cried himself to sleep. In the morning, he once more woke with dried semen on his belly. He took another shower, trying to make himself feel clean again, and then dressed. He passed the kitchen on his way out the door, the thought of food making his stomach rebel.

He walked slowly down the street. He’d thought very hard about what he had to do, but knowing it was the right thing didn’t make it any easier. He climbed the porch steps and rang the doorbell, then wiped wet palms on his pants. When the door opened to show Willow’s bright, cheerful face Xander nearly started crying again. As it was, he must have looked awful, because Willow stopped smiling and her happy expression turned to one of concern.

“Xander? What’s wrong?” she asked worriedly, reaching for him.

Xander grasped her hands. “You have to do me a favor,” he said. “From now on, don’t invite me into your house, okay?” he asked desperately, though it wasn’t really a question.

“Xander, what...”

“Just promise me!” he said, shaking her arms. “Promise me you won’t trust me.”

“Xander, you’re scaring me! What...”

Xander steeled himself for her reaction, and then turned his head and showed her the fresh bite. Willow pulled one hand free and reached out to touch his neck.

“Oh, Xander,” she whispered sadly.

“Promise,” he rasped. “I don’t know... I don’t want anything to happen to you, and I don’t know what Spike has planned, so, please, please, promise me.”

“I promise, Xander, I promise! Oh, God, come in here!” she cried, and pulled him into the house.

“Willow, that was dangerous,” he rebuked her brokenly through his tears.

“It’s daylight, Xander,” Willow reminded him. “Now come here and sit down. Tell me what happened.” Willow led him to the living room and they sat on the couch. She held his hands while Xander haltingly told her how Spike had waylaid him outside his house the night before, after Giles dropped him off.

“We can’t tell Giles,” he said. “He’s already upset, he’d never forgive himself if he knew...”

“We have to tell him something,” Willow said, examining his neck more closely. “Unless we go shopping and buy you a bunch of turtlenecks, he’s gonna see the bite.”

“Maybe it’ll be healed by Monday,” Xander said hopefully.

Willow didn’t look convinced. “Maybe,” she said. “We should tell someone,” she worried.

Xander hesitated. “There’s more,” he said, barely able to get the words out.

“What?” Willow asked, her brow furrowing.

He closed his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t tell her. Not with her sitting right there, holding his hands. He stood up and walked across the room, nervously running his fingers through his hair. He leaned his forehead against the window and stood looking out at the street where kids were riding their bikes and fathers were mowing their lawns. Just another day on the Hellmouth.

“It’s embarrassing,” he said, his breath creating fog on the window that immediately evaporated. “I’m so...a-ashamed.”

“Xander, I love you,” Willow said, and he could hear the tears in her voice. “You can tell me anything.”

“Th-the first time he bit me,” Xander began, still staring out the window, afraid that if he looked at her he wouldn’t be able to speak, “it, uh, well, made me hard. The bite did. After that I had dreams about him biting me. You know, wet dreams,” he said quickly. “And last night, when he bit me, I, uh, he made me... I had an orgasm,” he admitted in a strangled whisper.

“You did?” Willow squeaked. “Just from the bite?” she asked in disbelief.

“Well,” he said thoughtfully. “There was some...rubbing...but mostly from the bite.”

“I-it didn’t hurt?” she asked.

“At first,” Xander said. “It hurt at first, and then it...didn’t.” His voice broke, and he looked down at the floor, miserable. “Do you hate me?”

“No! Xander, I don’t hate you!” Willow stood up and rushed around the couch. “Why would you think I’d hate you?”

“Because I’m sick a-and disgusting,” he said, and could no longer hold the tears back. “Don’t tell anybody, please don’t tell anybody,” he sobbed as Willow pulled him into her arms, the tears streaming down his face and wetting her shirt as he buried his face against her shoulder. “I couldn’t bear it if...”

“I won’t, Xander,” she promised. “I won’t. I love you. It’ll be all right. We’ll make it all right.”

Xander didn’t reply as she soothed him, letting her think that he believed her. But he knew better. Nothing would ever be all right again.

Spike woke just as the sun was going down. Dru, still weak, was swaying in front of her dolls, talking to them in a hushed voice. “...pretty puppy. Shhh, mustn’t tell anyone, yet. It’s a secret...”

“Dru, luv, what are you going on about now?” he asked as he rolled over in the large bed he’d inherited when he killed the Annoying One.

She whirled around with a smile, her dress twirling about her legs. “Spike!” she cried. “You’re awake.” She glided over to the bed and crawled onto it, laying on her back beside him, staring up at the ceiling. “The stars have told me a secret,” she whispered conspiratorially.

“They have?” he asked indulgently.

“Oh, yes,” she said with a smile. “It’s a lovely secret.”

“About a puppy?” Spike asked, remembering what he’d heard Dru say after he’d awakened.

“A pretty puppy,” Dru giggled. “With brown hair, and beautiful brown eyes.”

Spike frowned. “Don’t you mean brown fur?” he asked.

Dru tilted her head consideringly, then smiled. “No,” she said. She clambered to her knees. “Can we go hunting tonight?” she begged.

“You’re still weak,” Spike said, running his hand down her arm.

“I feel much better after the spell,” she said. “I need to get out of here.” She waved her arms, indicating the factory. “Can we go see Daddy?” she asked plaintively, in a sudden change of subject that Spike was all too used to.

“Daddy’s not here, exactly, Dru,” Spike said soothingly.

“But I can feel him,” she insisted.

“Remember the soul?” Spike asked softly.

“Nasty soul,” Dru hissed. A tear ran down her cheek. “Took Daddy away from us. Can we kill it?” she asked hopefully.

“I don’t believe so, luv,” Spike said sadly.

“Can we kill something else, then?” she asked. “I’m in the mood for...a pretty blonde.” She smiled at Spike. “And then we can dance under the stars.” She closed her eyes, tipped her head back, held her arms out to her sides, and swayed to music only she could hear.

Spike got up and dressed, then took Dru’s hand and led her out of the bedroom they shared. In the main room, Dalton was sitting at the large table, several books opened in front of him. Spike stopped beside him. “Any luck?” he asked, as he did every night.

“No, Master,” Dalton replied, sliding his glasses back up his nose anxiously.

Spike slammed his fist angrily on the table, and then gritted his teeth to keep from taking his frustration out on the other vampire. It wasn’t Dalton’s fault that none of the books he’d managed to appropriate had contained the information they needed to heal Dru. Other than the spell he’d found, which would only give her a temporary respite, there had been no clues as to how they could harness the power of the Hellmouth to cure her ailment.

“Don’t worry, Spike,” Drusilla cooed. She ran her hands over his back and leaned in to rub her face against his. “Everything is going to be perfect. The stars don’t lie.”

“No, luv,” Spike said, straightening and gently taking Dru into his arms. “I don’t s’pose they do.” He silently wished he had as much faith in Dru’s stars as she did. “C’mon, now,” he said as he slid his hand down her arm to her fragile-feeling wrist. “Let’s go find you a nice blonde to eat, eh, luv?”

“Oh, goodie!” Dru exclaimed happily, clapping her hands together like a child.

Xander was in Hell. He had to be, he thought, as he looked around them at the otherwise empty corridor in which they stood. After he told Willow about his second confrontation with Spike, the redhead had comforted him, and then insisted that they tell Buffy. Xander had balked. He didn’t want anyone else to know the extent of his reaction to the blond. Willow had assured him that he didn’t have to tell Buffy anything other than that Spike had bitten him again, but that they would need her help to protect him from the vampire.

After stomping her foot and angrily telling Xander that he could not just give up, Willow had finally worn him down and gotten his agreement. Instead of going to her house, Willow thought it would be easier to have Buffy come to them, so called her and invited her over. Buffy arrived much sooner than Xander would have liked, and he had to tell his story again. He ended it with his plea that she not invite him into her house again until this thing with Spike was over.

Buffy just stared at him for a long minute. “We have to tell Giles,” she finally said.

“No!” Xander cried.

“Why not?” Buffy asked. “He’s my Watcher, Xander. He knows things. He can help us.”

“I don’t want him to feel guilty,” Xander said. “And you know he will,” he added before Buffy could respond. “He’s already working on this...Spike-thing, he doesn’t need to hear that he failed to keep Spike away from me like he promised. And it might even keep him from being able to concentrate,” he finished his babble, hoping it didn’t sound like he was spewing nonsense.

“Fine,” Buffy huffed after a lengthy moment’s thought. “But we do need to tell Angel,” she insisted.

Xander was filled with rage. “No,” he ground out between clenched teeth.

“Xander...”

“No!” he repeated. “This is all his fault in the first place. He offered Spike my neck!” he yelled, his voice rising.

“Yes, he did a very stupid thing,” Buffy agreed, “but we need his help to fix it. He’s a vampire, so he’ll know what Spike is thinking, feeling...”

Xander’s eyes widened and he blanched, but it went unnoticed by Buffy. He glanced fearfully at Willow who was staring at him with eyes just as wide.

“...what he’s playing at, what his plan for you is.”

Xander knew exactly what the vampire’s original plan had been, because Spike had confessed it to him—tear out his throat and leave his body for Buffy and Angel to find. But that plan had changed once Spike had tasted his blood, and though he didn’t know how long the blond would be interested in keeping him alive, he had no intention of ever letting Angel find out that there was a sexual element to his encounters with the other vampire.

So, now he stood in the hallway outside Angel’s apartment with Buffy and Willow, waiting for the vampire to wake up and answer his door. He knew it would be nearly impossible to keep any secrets from Angel, since the vampire had a nose like a hawk...or something like that. He’d be able to smell Xander’s fear, and would probably know that there was something Xander wasn’t telling him.

The door finally opened, and a drowsy Angel greeted them. “Buffy!” he said. “Is something wr—” He broke off and stared long and hard at Xander. “Spike,” he spat.

Xander blushed and looked away from the dark vampire as tears of humiliation and self-loathing filled his eyes.

“Can we come in?” Buffy asked while Willow put her arm around Xander’s back and whispered soothing words of comfort to him.

“Of course,” Angel said, stepping back to allow them to enter. “Please, come in.”

After everyone was seated, Angel turned to Xander and asked, “What happened?”

Xander told his story a third time, again leaving out any mention of his sexual response to Spike. He concluded his recitation with the avowal that Giles would never know. When he was finished, Angel stared at him appraisingly.

“I can understand why you don’t want Giles to know,” he finally spoke, “but if we’re not able to stop Spike quickly, we aren’t going to be able to keep his...fascination with you from him, because we won’t be able to explain why we’re guarding your house, for example, waiting for Spike to show up.”

“G-guarding my house?” Xander asked.

“I’m sure you’ve already thought about what needs to be done,” Angel said, looking at each of them in turn, “though you may not have put it into words. We need to step up our search for Spike, and protect you, Xander. Once we find where he’s staying and take him and his minions out, you’ll be safe, but until then, someone will need to watch over you.”

“We could do sleep overs!” Willow suggested.

“That would get back to Giles, and he’d wonder why,” Xander replied dully.

“Then we’ll come up with a reason,” Buffy said. “We don’t even have to lie, just tell him that you’re frightened because of Spike’s demented attentions. Either way, consider yourself connected at the hip to one or both of us until Spike is out of the picture!”

“And just a couple weeks ago I’d have been salivating at the offer,” Xander said, trying to inject some of his goofy humor into the situation.

“No salivating,” Buffy admonished lightly. “You’ll ruin my new suede jacket.”

“There is just...one problem,” Angel spoke up.

“What’s that?” Buffy asked, and the three of them looked at him.

“The bite,” he said.

The other three now turned to look at Xander.

“Turtlenecks,” Buffy proposed.

“I thought about that, but Xander doesn’t normally wear turtlenecks,” Willow said. “And the other bite was already healed. Giles might be suspicious if he sees Xander wearing turtlenecks again.”

“What else can we do?” Buffy asked. “Keep him out of school for a couple days? Or just away from the library?”

“I, um, have a suggestion,” Angel said, and the heads swivelled back in his direction. “I could help with the bite—help it heal, I mean,” he offered.

“Great!” Buffy said. “Uh, how?”

“I’d need to, well, lick it,” Angel finally got out, obviously embarrassed.

Three jaws dropped open. “L-lick it?” Xander stammered.

“Yeah, it’s...vampire saliva... You probably don’t need to know the specifics, but there are...well, healing properties,” Angel stammered.

Xander’s mind was racing, but he couldn’t pin down a single thought. He couldn’t let Angel lick the bite. First of all, the thought of Angel licking him was just...euww! Secondly, just touching the bite made him hard, he hated to think what the rasp of the dark vampire’s tongue would do.

“No, I...I don’t think...,” he began.

Buffy’s face crinkled up. “Okay, well, that’s kind of...weird,” she said. “But I don’t see any other options. The bite isn’t going to heal by Monday, we’ve already determined that you can’t wear turtlenecks until it heals, and if you stop coming around suddenly, Giles might get suspicious.”

Xander dragged his eyes from Buffy’s face to Angel’s, and the vampire’s expression suddenly changed.

“Maybe it would be better if we...” He pointed towards the bedroom. “Privacy might make it easier,” he said.

Without looking at the two girls, Xander stood and walked to the bedroom, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Tears of mortification and frustration filled his eyes. He stepped into the dark room and stopped just inside the door. He heard the low tones of Angel’s voice, and then the vampire was right behind him, closing the door to ensure their privacy.

Angel took Xander’s arm and led him to the bed. Xander didn’t bother to resist. Didn’t know if he could. He fell to the bed, his legs weak and shaking. Angel knelt in front of him.

“Is there something else you want to tell me, Xander?” he asked softly, gently, and Xander was suddenly filled with such conflicting emotions. Hatred, because it seemed he had always hated Angel, and plus, this whole situation was his fault, and relief, because he needed desperately to unburden himself. Telling Willow had only lifted a small portion of his disgust and self-hatred.

Xander closed his eyes so he didn’t have to look into Angel’s. “He made me come,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Xander,” Angel said. “Look at me.”

Xander opened his eyes.

“That’s only natural...”

“No!” Xander hissed. “It’s...perverted. Vile. Disgusting...”

“Stop it,” Angel spoke firmly without raising his voice, only continuing when Xander looked at him in surprise. “I meant that his drinking from you caused you to...become aroused. That you had an orgasm was a natural reaction to having been bitten. It’s no reflection on you as an individual, Xander. You’re still a good person,” Angel assured him.

Xander let the tears fall, and buried his face in his hands. Angel awkwardly patted his shaking shoulders until he quieted. “Sorry,” he said, his voice cracking.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Angel replied. “I know this has been difficult, and I know you blame me, but I will do anything I can to keep Spike away from you,” he promised. “Now,” he said, “I know you’re not looking forward to this, so why don’t we get it over with?”

Xander blushed. “It’s very sensitive,” he said, his voice squeaking.

“Ahh,” Angel replied. “Well, I’ll try not to...I’ll be quick,” Angel said.

“Okay,” Xander agreed.

Angel sat on the bed beside Xander, and Xander tilted his head. Angel placed his hand on Xander’s shoulder and leaned close to him, then licked over the fresh bite. Xander gritted his teeth to keep from moaning aloud as Angel’s tongue bathed his neck, letting out a sigh of relief when he finally lifted his head.

“Th-thanks,” he said, not looking at the dark vampire.

“You’re welcome,” Angel said, and slowly stood.

“One more thing,” Xander said. Angel inclined his head to show that he was listening. “If Spike turns me...” Xander looked directly into Angel’s eyes. “You be the one to stake me so Buffy doesn’t have to, okay?”

Angel just stared at him, and then said, “Okay.”