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Part 9

Spike entered the quiet house for the first time since Buffy had invited him in the night she had died. He heard Xander's breathing and smelled his lover's grief and sorrow, thick in the air. There were no noticeable changes to the entry hall, despite the boy's frequent trips. Spike had avoided coming here, not wanting Xander or Dawn to see him break down. He flashed on when Buffy had introduced him to Joyce that first time on the front step. Joyce hadn't remembered braining him on parent/teacher night. Ever the gracious hostess, Joyce had tried to make awkward small talk while assimilating the news of Buffy's destiny. How many secrets had Joyce let slip during their kitchen klatches? Stories about Buffy and Dawn as girls and about later on as they got older, when they would wait for a promised phone call from their father, which never came. *What kind of man could have just written the three of them out of his life?* A single step forward brought Xander into sight. Through the archway that separated the foyer from the living room he watched a moment as the boy contemplated a small framed photograph. He wondered what memories were visiting his pet and hoped they were happy ones. He owed so much to this fragile mortal. Daily Spike marveled at how much he had as a result of Xander's love, and shuddered at the thought of how much he now could lose. *Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend Before we too into Dust descend; Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie; Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and sans End![1]*

Xander reverently placed the photo back onto the end table and turned toward Spike, his brow still furrowed. Spike was at a loss when dealing with Xander's pain or sorrow. It made him want to rend the cause limb from limb. Before he could growl in frustration, Spike was mesmerized by the soft smile that the sight of him brought to Xander's face. More and more he noticed that his mere presence seemed to at once calm and excite the boy. Just being with him seemed to make Xander more confident and happier. It was a new experience for Spike. The boy didn't seem to care if they argued or fucked - well, he seemed to enjoy fucking more - but somehow was content either way. This was so new, so refreshing, and a bit unnerving to have someone so in tune with his emotions. Humans as mates were rare among vampires, but not unheard of.

Spike wished he were better informed. He knew that the life expectancy among them was short, but that was due to the lifestyle. They had to contend with the master's rivals and any jealous childer he may have. He had heard rumors they could bond much like a mated pair of vampires. The one time he and Angelus had talked of the subject had been when the older vampire had been referring to a pair in legend. Angelus had told of a vampire known only as Cain who had had a human mate called Lilith. Angelus had speculated that they had chosen those names to make themselves seem older than they were. Yet according to Darla, when the two had ruled none could remember either who Cain's Master had been nor a time when he and Lilith had not been together. Though they had allegedly been brought down at the turn of the last millenium, for several hundred years they had held a vast hunting ground, covering much of Eastern Europe. At the time, what had intrigued Spike had been the hints that this Cain was somehow stronger and had developed a resilience to holy objects from the pairing. Angelus had been set on warning him of the dangers, much like he tried to make a boogieman out of the Slayer. Spike, true to form, had found the idea of flaunting tradition fascinating and had asked why all vampires didn't take humans as pets, if there was something they were good for besides food. All Angelus had told him was that the vampire would have no control of that human and would be at their mercy, that it was far too dangerous to treat lightly, and that the risks far outweighed any supposed advantages. What now caught his interest about that story was the reference to them being together for centuries. He wouldn't mind that, having a few centuries with his Xander.

They had become so close, so quickly. Spike often wondered if there was something supernatural about Xander's ability to sense his moods or if it were just the boy's perceptive nature. Xander was so open, so readable, Spike wondered if he would know if he had some sort of connection to the boy, more than the obvious. Spike knew Xander loved him. From observing the attention and tenderness that the boy bestowed upon the members of his ‘pack', Spike also knew exactly what that love meant. Even after their conversation in the shower, what Spike did not know was if Xander understood what he meant by ‘claiming' him. Spike was sure what he wanted but wasn't sure what the results would be. Darla had hinted at secret rituals, mostly in her intention to take Angelus as a mate before he got souled up. Spike couldn't be sure she wasn't making it up - the cow would have used anything to keep her childe wrapped, including blatant lies. Dru, dear useless Dru, hadn't even been able to keep the Sire/Child relationship straight. Hence Spike had the unique curse of two Sires; his dark princess who had turned him, and the bleeding Irish bastard who had beaten what little sense he had into him.

Xander's soft smile transformed. With every thought written plainly on his face, he looked adorably confused. The boy knew Spike had not been to the house since Buffy had died and was clearly trying to figure who had invited Spike in. That look was replaced to the one Xander called ‘the wiggins' when Spike told him that Buffy had issued the invite.

"Not now, you moron." *Why do I do that? He underrates himself as it is, I'm just confirming that belief.* Spike lost track of the conversation as Xander's eyes sparkled with mischief and he teasingly pulled Spike into his arms. They maneuvered their way to the couch and Spike pinned his naughty pet against it, wondering how long he could keep him distracted and if there were time for a quick shag before they headed back to the shop. He held Xander's squirming body under him, tormenting him and reveling in the boy's frustration.

When Xander breathed in that lust-filled whisper, "punish me," Spike nearly lost control. *Bloody thrice dammed chip!* This wasn't the first time he had had to modify their games to prevent a blast of pain. He could almost feel his teeth sink into his lover's corded muscles. Then Xander stopped his pleasant struggles and whispered someone else's name. Spike shifted to game face and was growling out a threat before he turned to face his stunned Sire. He couldn't think straight and was hardly aware that Xander has renewed his quest for freedom. Xander's movements now had less effort directed at arousing Spike and more on freeing his hands. If he could have formed words he would have screamed at the rival but was currently expending all his energy at preventing two all-too-likely things. First, he didn't want to launch himself at Angel; part of him realized that having knock-down-drag-out fight here was not acceptable. Second, and more important, he felt he was dangerously close to hurting Xander physically.

The same inner sanity which was telling him Angel was not going to try to take Xander here, now, in front of him, also reasoned that Xander had only spoken Angel's name because he was startled to see him here, not because he welcomed the older vampire's attention. But the fact that the two were now speaking, never mind that Spike was too far out of control to follow the conversation, was driving him further into madness.

Rather than risk hurting him, Spike released one of Xander's hands but did not take his attention from their stunned audience. Instead of pulling away, Xander reached up and with gentle strokes soothed away his blood rage. Spike noticed that Xander did not smell at all of fear and seemed to take his reaction to Angel's presence in stride. Aware that Xander's soft shh-ing noises and caresses to his face were asking for some sort of acknowledgment, Spike still kept his attention riveted to his rival. From the look of shock on Angel's face if he had not realized Xander was Spike's before, he knew it now. Though Xander's actions had removed himself from danger, at least from Spike, the situation was still volatile. It was all Spike could do not to demand satisfaction due to Angel speaking to his mate without permission. It was Willow who unknowingly saved them all.

Red entered, followed by Tara, and peeked around Angel's bulk to say, "Xander? There you are." Angel remained frozen in place at the entrance to the living room, but the witches slipped easily past him. The girls crossed to the couch. It was more what they didn't do than what they did which showed such easy acceptance of Spike's place by Xander side and among their group. The young women dropped into a relaxed sprawl right beside Xander and his lap full of snarling vampire. Tara watched fondly as Willow babbled and Xander attempted to look like he knew what she was talking about. As the blinding rage faded Spike was shaken by how close he had brought them to true disaster. Angel cautiously took a seat far from Xander, being the only one in the room beside Spike to know what had nearly happened. If possible the prancing nancy boy looked even more bewildered.

Now Xander's scent was nervous. *William the Bloody in obsessive, possessive rage doesn't phase him, but Red catching him unaware of the results of her summoning sends him into a panic? Someday I'm gonna have a loooong talk with that boy. Ack, I have got to stop watching ‘Nick at Nite', whoever heard of a vampire quoting ‘The Beverly Hillbillys'* Xander obviously didn't want the witches to know he had been too horny to ask what happened at the bluff. *Rich! I can have some fun with this.*

"Yes, Pet, tell Red what you think about the Thing." He purred in his most seductive voice, knowing that it wouldn't take much to rev up Xander's engine once they had started foreplay.

The boy verbally dismissed him, while physically sending out ‘I want sex' signals. Being a vampire, Spike chose to respond to the physical ones with a leering purr. Red was smart enough to catch on and her little blond blushed and shared a shy smile with Spike. The magnificent poof hadn't taken his eyes off Xander since interrupting impending sex, but Spike was pleased to note that Xander seemed unaware. The boy vastly underestimated his own physical appeal. Dru was a perfect example of how Angelus' taste ran. Most people who saw Darla assumed he liked them small and blond, but they forgot that Darla chose him and he chose Dru. Tall, dark-haired, large brown eyes; it was all too similar. Spike wasn't blind. He would see these two were chaperoned until the bastard was dust or out of town for good.

~~~~~~~

Back at the shop the LA crew was going through the books with Rupert. Angel had reopened the mansion, so at least Spike didn't have to worry about Xander volunteering their couch to one of them. He didn't like that idea at all, especially with the Princess eyeing his Xander like he was the one that got away. He had caught that hyphenated ex-Watcher taking in an eyeful of Xander's ass when the boy had fetched some volumes from a lower shelf. Spike was silently cursing whatever madness had possessed him to talk the boy out of his old baggy, loud clothes and start dressing Xander with more emphasis his long muscular beauty. Angel's new boy, the one who had only met Xander that day, was currently sidling up to him with some flimsy excuse about getting his pet to point out the tunnel accesses on the town map.

It was Giles who noticed that Spike was emitting a low growl and after briefly surveying the room said, "Er…Perhaps… Have you had…? Spike, go get something to eat."

Xander followed him back to the kitchen and sat on the counter sipping a soft drink while Spike's blood heated. "Tired, pet?" The brown eyes did look a little red and the lids a bit heavy.

"I'm just glad tomorrow's Friday. What are the chances we'll get the weekend alone together?" Xander rolled his eyes toward the front and reached for Spike with a long leg. Spike let himself be hooked by Xander's foot to be drawn in and encircled by his legs.

After a kiss that tasted of ginger and sugar he said, "The rogue demon hunter was checking out your ass." He hadn't intended to say that. He lied as readily as breathing, well, like he had breathed when he had been alive. But when he was this close to his boy, tasting him, touching him, he spit out every thought.

"You're such a goof." Even Xander's laugh sounded tired, but he leaned forward and kissed Spike before adding. "But in a good way." He nipped Spike's bottom lip and they both forgot about the blood, and the guests, and tomorrow for a moment. When Spike finally let Xander breath the boy asked, "So, you're doing the book thing? When do you think you'll be home?"

Then the nancified sire was back, looming in the door, ogling his boy. Spike grabbed his mate off the counter and his meal from the microwave and relinquished the galley. When Angel stopped him from leaving by grabbing his arm, Spike came close to replaying the scene from earlier. This time the tosser's attention was on the food and not on Xander so Spike could be almost civil. Xander ignored Angel. If he could just keep the boy away from the Prom Queen, the night might remain bloodless. Angel paid too much attention for Spike's comfort when Xander mentioned home and gave Spike a look that said ‘we'll talk'. *Something else to look forward to.*

Once the boy had left, Spike found it easier to concentrate. The Watchers assigned research based on the Prom Queen's vision of large green demons with moldy faces and any type of sphere. Spike noticed Giles watching Angel and Angel's minions warily eyeing him. He suppressed the urge to see how high they would all jump if he growled because it would delay his getting home to his boy. They had been wading through demon lore for a few hours when he noticed the poof not-so-subtly trying to get his attention. Spike pointedly ignored him and pretended to be absorbed by a compilation of the Watcher's prophecies.

Finally Giles cleared his throat and said, "Spike, I believe Angel would like a word with you. You may use my office. But I want it understood, I will not tolerate violence directed toward the furniture or each other."

Angel looked contrite. Spike smirked and led the way into the back. Spike sat behind the desk in Rupert's chair and propped his Docs on the corner of the desk. "What's up, Ducks? Don't tell me you still got your panties in a twist over me taking over the Slayer's minions."

"I don't know what game you're playing…" Angel started, but was cut off by Spike's snort of derision.

"That song again? Didn't we dance this dance, earlier in the alley?"

"As I recall, you didn't answer." Angel looked ready to launch into a tirade.

"As I recall, I had you face-first into a wall when my pet saved your ass." Spike leveled a hard glare and stood up in a smooth, lightning-quick move.

"What the hell are you thinking? Xander Harris? You're playing with fire, Wil. Even I can see that this has gone father than you realize." Maybe it was that by now Angelus would have been bouncing his head off the floor, or maybe it was just calling him Wil. Whatever it was, it saved the furniture.

"You're talking out of your ass you great tosser. You have no idea…" Spike shouted.

"Do you?" He interrupted in a calm, reasoning voice, which might have been why Spike listened. "Do you have any idea what you're doing? And if you don't, whose going to pay the price? Xander? Wil, you can't take him for a consort. You will make him a target for every purist out there. I lost a good friend recently to the Scourge; if they got their hands on the human consort of a Master vampire..."

"Fuck the Scourge!" Spike growled out, seeing red at the implied threat to Xander. "They think we're mixed as it is, with the human host for our demon. Cor, Angelus! We were the Scourge - ‘The Scourge of Europe', and not one of those nancified purists has our body count. When did you become such a big girl? I know they attached a soul, but did they replace your knackers with it?" Spike was nose to nose, with the taller vampire, in full game face, snarling out all his frustration at his sire and the world.

"Damn it, boy!" Angel morphed and matched Spike's baleful, yellow-eyed glare. "You never think! It's not you or me at risk here. You're not only placing Xander in danger, but everyone he holds dear. You think every demon from a fledgling on up won't want to score a hit on the human consort of ‘the Slayer of Slayers'?"

“No one hurts what's mine!" Spike grabbed the lapels of the ridiculous overcoat and pulled him forward.

"You can't even protect him from another human…." Angel gripped his hands and attempted to pry them off.

"Leave the fucking chip out of this! The boy isn't some delicate flower. He's survived longer on the Hellmouth than you did."

"So help me Spike, I will not let…" A hard shake cut him off and Spike growled his words.

"You won't let? Who the bloody hell do you think you are? You're an outsider here. These humans are mine!"

After a tentative knock on the door, Giles and Wesley, obviously having heard the exchange, came in. Giles removed his glasses and met neither vampire's startled eyes. "You..er..you both have been rather vocal. Rather than perpetuate the illusion of your privacy, I thought it best to confess. I have more than a passing interest in this subject." He glanced at Wesley; there was some sort of wordless exchange before he continued. "Spike, I assure you nothing we say will go any further, but I must admit Angel's accusations have….I would like some reassurance regarding Angel's accusations." He held up a hand, forestalling Spike's immediate protest. "I know you would never intentionally harm Xander. But the Watchers know so little about vampire lore. Almost all references are from the human point of view. The books focus on how to kill them, not their social nuances. I admit, that while your physical involvement with Xander has been painfully obvious, unbelievably you seem to have out done Anya in the indiscretion area." That comment earned Giles a triumphant smirk from Spike and blank looks from Angel and Wesley. "I hadn't realized that there could be a more paranormal connection forming."

Spike was at a loss as to what to say. Tossing off to Angel was one thing, but Giles was a different story. Yes, a bond had formed and was strengthening by the day, but Spike had no idea what it meant, or what it would become if he and the boy continued on this course.

It was Wesley who rescued Spike from blind speculation when he ventured, "Some of the histories have speculations about mated pairs. They're extremely rare, you and Drucilla being one of the most..."

"Dru and I weren't mates." Spike spoke softly and sank into the chair nearest the door. "She turned me, but we weren't mates." He stood again, wanting to pace but the small office lacked the space so he leaned on the edge of the desk.

"Spike, you were together for over a hundred years." Giles voice held the incredulity of someone for whom that was more than a lifetime.

"She needed me. I took care of her. That's why I was made." Spike studied his hands and wished that they were not having this conversation with an audience, but then again, without the audience they both might have continued to avoid this topic.

"You were lost…distraught when you two parted." Giles said gently, as if reluctant to remind Spike of that pain, and sat next to Spike on the edge of the desk.

"You were pretty out of it when you got sacked from the Watchers," Spike said pointedly. "I was made and trained for one thing and that was gone. Just took me a little longer to find my feet."

"And Xander?" Giles asked firmly. Spike had to admire the man. Like Xander, Giles always kept his priorities straight. It was the fact that Giles had repeatedly and would continue to put Xander's safety ahead of his own which caused Spike to reluctantly admit that this man, unlike anyone else in the room, had the right to ask these questions.

"He's mine. I'd claim him proper if not for this bloody chip." Spike answered with conviction.

"What does that mean? What…what would that do to him?" Giles asked. Angel and his Watcher were watching like this was some tennis match. After Giles asked the last question, Wesley leaned forward from where he leaned against the door. Spike shot a suspicious look at Angel. He would never be able to bluff his way through an answer with the prancing poof ready to jump in and call him on anything he made up.

"Don't know." He settled for honesty. "Reason you Watchers don't have much information on this is that it just doesn't happen that often. Our kind rarely take mates, especially among our own, because we rarely love. To love you have to share part of yourself. We're demons." He nodded to indicate Angel as well as him. "No matter how much soul-boy would like to deny it, without the demon he would be just a decaying corpse. Demons are by nature selfish. Why do you think we create so many minions, and so few childer?" Spike watched Giles carefully. He had seen the wheels turning behind Angel's pet Watcher's eyes, but didn't care what conclusions that poofed-up hyphenated nancy-boy drew from his little revelation. His souled Sire could pound salt, and the minion too. It was Rupert who mattered. He was whom Xander would turn to with any doubts. His acceptance of what was growing between Spike and his mate would smooth over the eventual dangers.

"Have you spoken with Xander about this?" Giles' voice was calm but his gaze was penetrating. He could have been inquiring about a library book if not for Ripper lurking there in his eyes.

"He knows as much as I know." Spike dropped all pretenses, including his guttersnipe accent. This man loved his mate like a son and had earned Spike's respect in ways that Angelus never had. "He knows what I want and he hasn't chucked me out yet." Spike finish without his upper class accent, when he realized that there might be someone left in the room who didn’t know it was a complete sham. The last thing he needed was Angel's boy asking for stories of his early years to update the Watchers' records with his fledgling foibles. Giles' quiet contemplation instilled a fear in Spike that all of Angel's ranting had failed to do. Angel ranted quite frequently. Giles had been known to face the apocalypse with an ‘oh, dear'. It would have made for a study in opposites if not for the fact his future could be decided by what this quiet man decided here and now. The silence was eerie as not one of the remaining three wanted to disturb Giles rumination and they all sat or leaned awaiting his conclusion.

The time gave Spike a chance to turn over Angel's pessimistic view, where legions would come out of the woodwork hunting his Xander for sport and status. It wasn't as if Xander didn't draw enough unasked-for attention as it was. At that thought, Spike scowled at Angel's minion, remembering the heated look he had turned on his mate when Xander's back was turned. Wesley, showing a level of self preservation he certainly didn't learn from Angel, pulled back as far from Spike as the tiny room permitted. Angel stepped between Spike and his minion, and Spike could hear his teeth grinding as he exerted himself not to shift into game face. *Oh, ho! How much energy he spends trying to pass for human. What does he tell them? That he keeps the demon that animates his corpse locked up or on a leash? Bloody hell, he has some nerve saying I'm endangering Xander. Xander has known from day one what I am and what I am capable of. It's his choice to let me into his life, and it's a far more informed choice than Angel's minions get to make if he's still deluding even himself that by having a soul he has some how gotten rid of his demon.*

Spike finally couldn't take the silence any longer. He spoke to Giles, quite conscious that Angel and his minion were considering his every word. "Xander loves me." It was the first time he had said those words to anyone but himself, and then they had been tinged with awe as he talked to his non-existent reflection. "You know that means he would be in danger, even without all the fucking demon shit. You know what he's like when he loves someone - he'd take on the devil himself to protect them." Giles nodded and a sad, rueful smile crossed his face. "He'll never be alone." Spike was aware that he had slipped back into what Xander called his bedroom accent but no longer cared. "Anything that goes after him will have to go through me."

Angel said he wanted to talk to Xander, to make sure the boy knew just what he was getting into. Before Spike could loudly tell him that would never happen Giles suggested, with implied concern for Angel's safety, that he not try to do that alone. Spike was grateful. If he had suggested it Angel would have put it down to his possessiveness and would have insisted on seeing Xander alone. But coming from Giles, after a pointed reminder about the volatile history between Angel and Xander, Angel agreed to have Spike present. Relieved that this issue was now behind him, Spike slipped out of the shop when Angel was conveniently distracted and headed home.

Part nine

1. Rubaiyat



Part 10


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