Fifth part in the Five Gold Rings series:

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3    Part 4

Recreation and Renovation

by
Rngrdead

Part Twenty-One

Wandering in the grounds of the St Petersburg establishment, Spike began talking… Xander knew a little of his mother from snippets, and tiny bits of his life with Angelus, but St Petersburg seemed to prompt a watershed… and a necessary one for the High Master. This was about old,*old* demons of the personal variety and Xander began to understand the Master Vampire on an even more profound level.

Spike’s love of his Sire was uppermost in the conversation, and though in past times that might have proven something to prompt insecurity or even jealousy, now there was profound a understanding and a deep sense of shared loss. Were Anton to abandon them or Spike to be dusted, it would feel the same. Xander intertwined their fingers and passed love and comfort through their link as Spike allowed himself to reminisce and to mourn for Angelus/Angel.

The High Master confessed to his Consort in very quiet terms something the man already knew, William was Drusilla’s by turning, but Angelus was his Sire in everything else, Angelus *was* his everything. Spike then went very quiet and their link raged with grief, regret and love as he began to reminisce. Xander led the High Master to a spot Spike had pointed out on the first day, a pretty pergola covered in ivy, and pulled him down to sit on a stone bench his head falling to Xander’s shoulder. As Xander leaned back against the upright of the pergola and pulled Spike to lean back against him, Spike kissed his lover’s mating mark in gratitude, then his eyes glazed over as he continued to remember and talk.

Angelus and young William had traveled to St Petersburg without their female Sires several times in the early days of William’s growth as a vampire. They had fought, fed and f#@$ed their way to the north, and raised hell together. William was Angelus’ favorite plaything and ‘his boy’ reveled in the attention and the illicitness of their carnal relations.

St Petersburg was their summer playground prior to Angelus’ soul. Northern Europe had always been the place to consolidate reputations and Angelus and William had not disappointed their audience. Spike’s former lifestyle and command of Russian – and more importantly French and German – charmed the courtiers of Europe and his boyish looks had him a favorite of the ladies, and a number of the men. Angelus was no less popular, acting as the rather attentive ‘older cousin’ to his slim companion. They partied hard, ate well, and fought like hellions when a few local demons objected to their presence. How many humans they ate or vampire minions they dusted really could not be determined… ‘a lot’ being the best estimate.

St Petersburg pre 1900 and the Revolution was rich, decadent, and in Vampire terms, controlled by the Mistress Alenka who enjoyed the casual company and the reputation of the beautiful Angelus, and the new very pretty boy Childe he had in tow. The lovely, deadly, blonde companion simply added to Angelus’ attraction for the older Mistress.

Angelus and William reveled in the attention, were invited balls and both human and vampire parties. They smoked, ate and drank with, and of, the humans. They fought other demons and vampires like the hellions they were, and regularly bedded willing, live women and men with debauched glee.

………………….

Xander adjusted their position a little to relieve his back as Spike related nights of parties, of sharing rich women… and men, of drinking without killing in the rich circles, and of killing without drinking in the poor. He spoke of the finery they wore and the dances. And as Xander freed his long blonde locks from their tie and began to stroke and tug at the curls, he saw Spike roll in and out of game face before tears began to fall and the High Master continued the saga.

…………………

They had been staying in rooms in the centre of St Petersburg and had been called to attend the Mistress. Angelus and he had been engaging in pleasuring each other at the time the minion knocked on their door, Angelus less than impressed as he answered the door in a long satin robe sporting a very obvious erection. But the Mistress was not to be denied. She was hosting a number of humans along with her vampire court, including a young man, Rasputin, whom she claimed to be grooming for ‘greater things’. Angelus growled but still acknowledged their acceptance of the invitation for the following night then returned to his sport with his Childe. They managed to finish each other after the minion left then performed a swift sponge bathing to remove the evidence.

Angelus then carefully dressed his Childe in fine brocades and exquisitely made tailored trousers. He all but salivated as he fixed the cummerbund around the slim waist of his Childe, and noted the sturdy erection resulting from his touch and sheer proximity to his chosen companion.

The evening was rather uneventful, though the Mistress was rather pleased when Rasputin’s eyes wandered across various female guests then settled on William. She smelt the human’s arousal and determined her next move. She would not risk angering Angelus (or Darla… the High Master’s favorite) by offering William, but would continue to control the dark man via a series of liaisons with pretty young men, whilst coaching him in the art of engaging women, particularly royalty. He proved the perfect tool until he was dead… which was a pity, but in the end of little consequence to the Mistress.

It was well after Angelus acquired his soul that Lenin then Stalin provided *plenty* of fodder for Mistress Alenka’s charges, the latter ruler being particularly partial to ‘unusual punishments and massacres’. Stalin would have made a wonderful vampire, but with so much blood on his hands and being so valuable alive, there was little point in turning him… instead a devil’s bargain was struck, and ‘unfortunate events’ before during and after the second world war proved a win/win for the human and vampire rulers.

Spike had been on his way back to Alenka’s region when he was captured on the Czechoslovakian border by some German soldiers shortly after a feeding frenzy. There had been a massacre of a group of local resistance fighters and their families. Spike and two other vampires were simply assisting those who were mortally wounded but not quite dead along their way.

Dru was in Italy – with the Italian Master at the time, Janos. They had holed up in the catacombs under the city.

Spike quite enjoyed Janos’ company but left at Drusilla’s insistence after she babbled something about “tin cans” and “fishies and stars” and “meeting Daddy”. Janos encouraged him to go north as the word through the vampire community was that there were less incendiary bombs and more mayhem in that direction. With Dru safe, and Janos’ first childe, the very pretty Petros in tow, Spike had figured on visiting the old stomping ground, St Petersburg (now Leningrad… it had been Petrograd for a while around WWI). The city was under siege but even if they couldn’t get in, the German army holding it hostage apparently afforded easy pickings.

Darla, Angelus and Childer, had always followed wars, enjoying easy hunting with little or no need to be rid of bodies, and frequently gorging themselves on give away meals in the chaos… but historically battle fields were specific, with the rapidity of the German expansion had come the ability for vampires to travel the length and breadth of Europe with guaranteed gluttony all the way.

The Germans captured he and Petros easily. They had been unconscious, full of human blood and copious quantities of vodka. Separated somewhere between their place of capture and Prague, Spike was interrogated harshly enough to fall into game face, eat his torturer and was consequently subdued, crated, and in the process of being shipped as part of a ‘special initiative’ on a submarine when Angelus turned up on behalf of the ‘other side’. Having met with, then been rejected again, by his ensouled Sire on some rescue mission, it was the last time he would try to connect with, or even contact his mentor, his true Sire of old, for close on fifty years.

……..

Xander continued to stroke his dear lover as the vampire fell into game face and grieved the loss of his elder. When Spike struggled and could not find balance, Xander pushed his wrist against the vampire’s mouth and waited. Spike calmed a little then bit down and took three long drafts, gently licking the wound closed and kissing the spot before continuing.

…….

It had taken three months to find his way back to Italy, three very lean months. They had been in the Atlantic and close to USA waters when Angel had forced he and the newly made Lawson, his last Childe, overboard. They were both eventually picked up by a ship headed for Spain and Spike made his way across to Italy from there.

“I arrived starving to find her in the lap of… Anton! I confess pet, I was hurt… but too weak to challenge him, so simply took her and hid… Funny now that I know him, I guess he wouldn’t have minded – and nor would I… but there you go.” Spike swiveled in his lover’s arms and kissed him soundly. “My dark warrior… my Consort… my best friend and lover. It is right to be here with you, my love. How lucky am I to be here with you.”

Xander leaned down and kissed the pale forehead. “But remembering is painful it seems.”

“No luv… History here is about triumph. And I’ve already had mine… but… just being here brings it all back and … I’ve never known how much I…” Spike buried his game face in Xander’s shirt and with strong loving arms surrounding him and giving him permission, he sobbed like he had not allowed himself to since Angel’s demise.

Xander noted the tears still flowing and whispered, “How much what….?” He brushed away the evidence of his partner’s distress.

With his face now buried against his Consort’s neck, and his body cradled in an adoring hold (one hand around his waist, the other stroking his manhood through his trousers),. The vampire whispered, “How much I needed to find…. Peace and acceptance.”

Xander quietly stated “Have you will found it with me?”

“Yes… oh my Love… yes!”

Xander waited for his partner to calm then as the Consort lifted and walked the High Master back to their boudoir, he reflected.

Never had their age difference been in sharper contrast; never had Spike been so honest; and never had he loved another as he did the man in his arms. They had a momentous task ahead of them, but he knew in that moment that they were two parts of a whole and truly believed that together, they could do anything.

…….

As they re entered Mistress Minna’s abode the Consort bowed first and made a quiet request – an act that told the Mistress two things, one that she was trusted, and two that the master was in need of some ‘time’. She kissed Xander on the cheek as an older sister might, then arranged that the High Master’s repose was not to be interrupted until his own (or his Consort’s) specific instructions.

The following day the ruling couple entered the room with a strength that none had felt before. For some reason the previous evening’s confessions of William the Bloody and the acceptance of the same by his Consort had shifted things. They were strong before, now it seemed, the very walls vibrated with their presence.

Xander stood behind his partner with a calm hand lying on Spike’s shoulder and publicly offered his wrist, which was taken. Several younger vampires fell to their knees, others fell into game face then bowed and knelt, and the older masters simply took an unneeded breath and moved to kneel close to their master’s feet.

The Master spoke, “As you all know, we have called you here for a reason.”

Four hundred faces looked up expectantly.

Part Twenty-Two

The meeting began easily. The vampires in his presence were all loyal to the Mistress and in awe of the High Master. Masters from outside the territory present had already pledged their allegiance so Spike and Xander were ‘amongst friends’.

Spike addressed the silent crowd in a commanding voice, the tone resolute and brooking no arguments from the floor.

“As you know we are all under threat from the Watchers’ Council. We have done nothing to provoke this, yet it seems that certain extremists in the new council are agitating to wipe us out.”


The hall erupted with protests from every direction, some outraged, others simply distressed, the Masters and Childer in the room unsurprised as they already knew. The High Master held up his hand and waited. They room fell silent once more.

“We all have a duty to the humans in our charge to remain strong… particularly those of you whose human populations are dwindling. As their own governments abandon them, we are all that stands between them and oblivion. And we have a vested interest in keeping our feeding grounds healthy, particularly in our northern regions.”

A unanimous murmur of agreement rippled through the hall.

“Esteemed members of Mistress Minna’s court, I implore you to appeal to your own areas immediately. Every minion, fledge, Childe and pet must be ready to work toward the common goal – survival.

“The Watchers’ council intends to move the Slayers against all vampires. We must therefore do two things. Firstly we must re invigorate our old supply routes to your areas – all the underground railway lines and subsurface lines of travel, all sewers, ancient mines and old service tunnels must become the primary transport lines again. All must be cleared, marked and managed.” A number of the older vampires nodded sagely. They had done this many times before in their frozen northern winters, not so much for Slayers but simply to prevent the frozen demise of their food source… the animals and humans in their region.

“Existing agreements with human groups need to be renewed to assure your charges of the loyalty of the vampires, and also warn them of the difficulties ahead. Fledges must be controlled and tutored within your own lairs, and minions kept to a minimum and bound until needed. Any pets, consorts and Childer should be kept close at all times. No one will be safe.”

Spike’s moved to grasp his Consort’s caressing hand, and Xander shifted fluidly to kneel beside his partner, but a minion was quicker, providing the leather clad brunette with an ornate armless stool allowing him to sit right next to the High Master. The entwined hands now resting on the inside of Spike’s thigh and Xander sitting straight with his other hand in a tight fist on his own knee.

“The second part of the proposal is aimed at educating the slayers and their watchers, and by that, ensuring a shift in the council via political measures, and buying us some time on the ground.”

There was another round of concerned protest, but Spike simply held up his free hand and waited. The room fell silent once more.

“At this stage they are ill informed for the most part. We will be bringing as many young slayers and watchers as we can to this place. Here they will be educated to see you all as individuals worthy of having rights and obviously caring of your human communities. They will be counseled and trained to identify those of our race who are out of control, or without clan alliance, and given far more training in the identification of our brother demons.

“Childer and Masters will work with our guests by relating their personal histories, informing them of the current trends in your management of feeding and the maintenance of your areas. Others in the room will also assist in this process. Any questions need to be answered honestly and with your help we can eliminate the current trend in the European council of Watchers and bring balance to your existence once more.”

Spike paused but no-one spoke. Several minions and fledges were already teary eyed as he looked at them meaningfully. “You are all important. To make your Master or Mistress proud is to serve our whole Aurelian line. We cannot fail.”

Never had they felt more valued, more important. And it was the High Master giving them their task. They would do anything. They had a duty and a cause. The demon in them answered the call, but for many, so did the residual human.

“Tomorrow we will see the first of these people arrive, and by the end of the week we expect over seventy watchers and slayers to reside amongst us. I encourage only Masters and Childer to be present at this stage, as our role is to educate the girls and their male watchers in the ways of the north. The remainder of the clan members, please feel welcome to stay at your Masters’ request or that of the Mistress Minna. You are all important to us and your support is critical. My Consort and I deeply appreciate your assistance, and your reward is assured if we are successful, as it will make a difference to every clan in Europe, possibly the world.”

A tall blonde male stood. Obviously a Master of some standing in the Siberian region, he spoke with a heavy accent but presented a nobility and honor that gave credence to his line. He waited for Minna to acknowledge his role as spokesman for one clan, then Spike’s nod permitting him to speak. “I thank you Master William, Consort Alexander. Your concern for us has gone beyond anything we have ever known outside the old USSR and for many years before. Your reputation precedes you, and we will do as you ask. You have our loyalty and our thanks.

“The Mistress Minna is our wonderful ruler in this region, but to know that the High Master and his Consort are concerned enough to come here is…” The younger Master held back tears and paused before continuing, “ it’s just extraordinary! I have the right to speak for our clan and they will act upon your instruction in all things… Mistress… High Master…” the Vampire nodded in both directions then bared his neck. Spike nodded but it was the Mistress who stepped forward and took the blood, prompted by a hierarchical process that was eons old.

Spike and Xander stood as Minna slipped back into her human visage, and caressed the cheek of her loyal subject, but it was Spike who spoke, “Our dear Master Alexis has highlighted for us a commitment and a need. So… as a sign of my Consort’s and my determination that this course of action proceeds, we ask that you drink the truth in our blood and pledge yourselves to this cause in the time honored vampiric fashion.”

Before the meeting, he and Xander had both bled as much as they dared spare into a large vat of human blood. Now four orderly lines moved in silence to receive a spoonful of the laced blood and pledge their allegiance by dropping their fangs, cutting their lip or tongue, and in turn delivering a blood covered kiss to the feet of their High Master, then excusing themselves from the room.

No vampire that partook of the blood would now dare violate the High Master’s wishes… indeed many of the fledges spent the evening pleasuring themselves or each other in a desperate effort to assuage the intoxicating effects of the exquisitely potent blood they had consumed.

Mistress Minna simply smiled as she heard the sighs and groans, all a result of the sharing. All who drank would be pliable and willing.

With at least twenty watchers, seventy slayers, an unknown number of witches, a senior wiccan *and* the esteemed Giles arriving within the next two days… it would be a necessity.

By the end of the evening Spike’s feet were coated and dripping with blood. The last to partake was Minna. Spike allowed her the traditional kiss to his feet then pulled her up, bit her neck and offered his wrist. Only a few mouthfuls were taken before both pulled away but Minna was rather overwhelmed by the exchange and could think of no words.

She thanked the Master by lifting his hand gently to kiss his Aurelian ring. The Mistress Vampire then glided to standing, spun and left the room, her beautiful full length black ball gown and billowing train giving the impression that she was floating rather than walking. Spike reflected, she really had grown into the role of ruler of her clans very quickly, and might well lead them through the next few centuries with some luck, looking just as beautiful.

As soon as she had departed the room, Xander noted his partner’s fatigue and moved to kneel in front of Spike’s chair, tilting his own neck and sighing as his mate took the offering.

As Xander’s mark was licked closed, he whispered, “Come on Spike… Let me take you to bed. We will sleep and then… I’ll take you another way.” He was rewarded with a smile.

“Not if I take you first, Pet”

And the two retired two hours before the sun rose.

…………………………


Progressive groups of watchers, witches, slayers and ‘extras’ (Dawn included) were welcomed by consorts, thralls, paid drivers and minions, depending on the time and method of travel. Toward the end of the first day the local coven also joined the welcoming committee after being contacted by Willow’s group directly.

Dawn’s arrival was a particular blessing and she was ushered (to her embarrassment) directly to the High Master and Consort’s quarters.

She knocked softly and was a little taken aback as the door was opened by a minion rather than Xander or Spike.

A number of individuals filed out and the door was closed behind her after the manservant had announced her then let himself out politely. She stood rather awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of the protocol or what to expect. Buffy had said Xander and Spike were different now, but in truth had no idea what that meant.

She decided on a simple yell of, “Hey the Bit’s here” as her in.

She moved further into the suite, but fell silent when saw two figures standing looking out from the balcony of their suite at the palace, entwined. Spike with his back to Xander’s chest smoking, Xander with his arms wrapped around his partner in a loving embrace, quietly talking to his smaller companion. Both were dressed in silk robes and obviously relaxing.

Dawn gasped. The two men must not have heard her, as they remained in the embrace and began to gently sway… she had never seen anything more beautiful. She watched as Xander kissed the top of Spike’s head and let his hand drift under the satin robe, sneaking a caress of a taut torso. She stood transfixed as Spike flicked his cigarette over the balcony, blew out the last of the smoke then spun to take his lover’s lips. She also noted the vampire’s hands one sliding low grasping his partner’s hardness through the slippery material of the robe, the other moving to Xander’s neck, holding the kiss. She reflected later that her adventure into voyeurism had been sadly compromised by vampric hearing and her own inability to contain an “eep” and a sigh. Also upon reflection she realized… the two did not disengage, rather, they moved as one to greet her and it did not feel strange… which in itself did.

Spike smirked knowingly and whispered “Never picked you for a slash lover pet” as they walked by her and ushered her back into their sitting room. She groaned and flushed pink with embarrassment wondering just how long Spike had known she was there and how much of the last few minutes had been specifically for her benefit.

They talked late into the night before the young wiccan and former Key wandered to her own beautiful bedroom. She wished she had taken more notice of the descriptions in Tolstoy’s writing at school. The room was richly decorated in the style of the eighteen hundreds, rich velvets, gold fittings, and highly carved furniture. It was truly beautiful. She fell asleep under a duck down duvet with images of beautiful boys in exquisite settings running through her head (two in particular!)

………….

The following day an unexpected glitch in their plans presented itself. Giles had arrived the previous evening but had been ‘too ill with the travel’ to join the others.

Xander and Spike visited him at his rooms and Spike could smell it. The vampire could hear the strained heartbeat and Xander could see it. The aging Watcher was pale, losing weight rapidly and seemed exhausted even after the merely sitting up.

“Bloody hell Watcher… what’s your story?

Part Twenty-Three

Xander fell to his knees beside Giles. The elder Watcher was unable to lift his head away from the headboard and pile of pillows though he was obviously struggling to do so. The Consort Xander’s distress was only matched by his Master’s, permission given to hurt through their link. He hugged Giles briefly then kissed the older man on the cheek as Giles answered Spike in almost a whisper “I ahhh, haven’t been too well of late.”

“Well state the bloody obvious you pillock! So what exactly is wrong or haven’t you even bothered to find that out?”

“Oh, I know precisely the problem… I have, it seems, a combination of Hepatitis A, early stages of prostate cancer, and of late I’m told… double pneumonia. The first being an old issue, the second new and the third one apparently triggered by the others and ahhh, overdoing it of late it seems.” Giles attempted to adjust his position, but collapsed back, resigned to being uncomfortable.

Xander moved swiftly to assist. He lifted their friend easing him forward while Spike rearranged the pillows, then gently lowered the very pale and now sweating elderly man back onto the soft cushions. Giles sighed and whispered “Thank you.”

Spike sat on the bed with the aging Watcher, a man who had chained him into a bathtub and who had not, until their latter years, really ever trusted the vampire. Now the High Master took Giles’ hands in his, and stared into tired eyes that should have been sparkling pale blue but were now a dull shade of grey, and began to speak quietly. “You silly bugger. What the hell are you doing here then?? Aren’t those modern medicos gonna fix you all up with drugs ‘n whatnot?”


Giles sighed heavily barely stemming the flow of tears he felt so inclined to shed. The genuine concern in Spike’s gaze and the desperate look on Xander’s face had quite destroyed any bravado he intended to convey. He let his head fall back onto the headboard, closed his eyes and allowed two tears to squeeze from the outside corner of each eye. They slid down past his ears then dripped unceremoniously onto the pillows as his visitors waited in silence.

“Oh my dear boys, I am so tired… just so very tired… but…” He coughed painfully then cleared his throat, “This has to be done… You have to succeed! Good lord, what is my life compared to thousands… of humans, wiccans and vampires… hundreds of thousands!”

Spike heard the racing heart again and quickly decided. He pulled away his left hand and bit the wrist hard in full game face. He and Xander had given their blood the previous day, but were both back to full strength, so he could only hope the old Watcher would take the offering.

Giles was not quite ‘with it’ after the effort of talking and had his eyes closed. He felt dry in the mouth, so took the dripping cool liquid assuming it was a squirt from the drink bottle he had sitting on his dresser. It was only when a coppery taste filled his mouth, a strong ‘zing’ passed through his system, and the cool wrist finally pressed against his mouth that he registered what Spike had done.

He opened his eyes and looked up with wonder rather than the revulsion Spike had dreaded. Giles fed as the wound healed, and was then presented with the wrist of the Consort, the boy he had always considered as the nearest thing he would ever have to a son. The Consort’s blood seemed to have the same strength as the Master’s, and Xander stroked the grey hair and continued to whisper a litany of details about how much they cared for him and needed him as he took the powerful elixir. He looked hard at the stunning brunette as he drank. Xander looked younger, if anything, and exuded confidence and power, even more than when they had met in Switzerland it seemed. Giles pulled away from the wrist, sighed and nodded his thanks then closed his eyes once more.

His entire system was vibrating with some preternatural energy, causing his body to demand that he sleep and heal, or at least cease its decline.

Spike and Xander waited until Giles was fully unconscious before letting themselves out of his room, then sent for the wiccan healers, asked Mistress Minna to find the best oncologist in Moscow, and contacted the Ludwig Institute in Geneva to track down a friend of Anton’s. The world renowned cancer surgeon agreed to fly to St Petersburg as soon as he had a full report from the doctors attending Giles. Minna also arranged for a nurse to monitor the aging Watcher on a twenty four hour basis. No expense would be spared.

Spike stormed back to their rooms after making the arrangements. “He’s not bloody well doin’ a thing ‘til we sort this! What the *hell* is he thinking, stupid bugger!!!?”

Xander pulled his partner into a tight embrace, “Just what you and I would think… He’s trying to save the world… or at least a big chunk of it… seem to remember another person pretty determined to do that on a few occasions?! Hmm??? Come on honey…”

Despite his Consort’s hold and proximity, Spike was shaking all over in a way that was concerning, but as Xander caught the whispered words “’S like mother all over again!”, and saw the game face flash before tears began and the words came again, Xander knew exactly why. It wasn’t just about Giles.

“I should have insisted, the *best* doctors… because we knew! … We’d lost father and she…. She didn’t want me to be alone… but *I knew*, and they didn’t really have a way… and she wouldn’t… so I let her suffer … because I did as she asked… I would have done anything!… and all I ever wanted to do was… so I… and there was dust… Oh Pet! Not again! The best doctors… it has to be.”

The stress of the last few days, the reminders of his life of old, and seeing the man that they were hoping would deliver the message to the Watchers so ill and propped up in a four poster bed, had tipped the scale. In the privacy of their suite the High Master was near collapse with fatigue. Xander scooped up by his lover and carried the blonde to their bed where he was stripped then surrounded by the solid flesh of his Consort and the fluffy bedcovers. Spike was asleep before Xander had finished tucking them in.

………………

Heavy drapes blocked out the ever-present sunshine… unlike the joy of winter in this part of the world, summer meant a perpetual life inside or underground for vampires… and a ‘lean period’ in the old days.

It was part of the bargain with the humans in the clans’ care. Blood was provided in the ‘light months’, in exchange for assistance, be it monetary, advisory or practical, when the dark came. The humans knew that a number of the vampires had been master craftsmen, experts in animal husbandry or business prior to turning, and with many decades of experience, their input was invaluable to the community. Animal blood or donations was the preferred payment generally, and during the lean ‘light’ months, even more so. Something the Slayers had yet to come to terms with, something they were about to address.

Xander stared at the ceiling and smiled a little when his absent stroking of Spike’s torso evoked a purr as he considered the enormity of what they were trying to do.

Xander had all but adjusted to the life in the dark, though occasionally (like today) wandered outside to snooze in the sunshine while his partner slept on in their bed. Spike, like other Masters fortunate enough to enjoy a human consort, was then the happy recipient of the sun’s warmth through the link and the feeling of a ‘toasted’ human body crushing him in the late afternoon. The joy of an electric blanket and the heat suit really had made a difference, but Spike knew the yearning for light, and loved the feel of Xander’s naturally warmed skin as his consort dived onto his lovely mate to share the heat after a few hours in sunshine.

…………………

Spike woke slowly in the early afternoon, registering a sun heated body radiating warmth onto his legs, and a hot mouth and limber tongue caressing, then engulfing his very awake erection. He relaxed into the sensation as a pillow was pushed under his behind and the talented mouth navigated its way to his puckered entrance. Fingers replaced the penetrating tongue as the mouth nipped its way back up to welcoming lips. A particularly hard bite over Spike’s right nipple coinciding with the thrust of three, lube covered fingers and elicited a groan of need from the recipient. Within seconds, Xander removed his fingers, coated his hard shaft with copious quantities of lube, then used the angle of his partner’s willing body to his advantage and entered easily, groaning his own joy. He waited a moment while he calmed, then pulled out slowly, only to return, beginning an almost painfully slow rhythm, intent on drawing out the rise to mutual satisfaction.

After a lazy half hour of kisses, touching and impossibly tame pace, Spike could stand it no longer and began to buck into each thrust, forcing the speed and increasing the pressure of each penetration. Xander took the hint and picked up the tempo considerably. He knew just the angle and had been deliberated brushing Spike’s prostate only occasionally during their previous playtime. Now he pressed over the nub time and time again, so much so that their mating link flooded with lust filled imagery as Spike began to beg for completion.

A knowing hand found the Master’s erection as human teeth bit hard enough to break the skin on Spike’s neck. Xander drew enthusiastically on the wound, and as Spike came, he bit deeply into his consort’s neck, evoking almost instant completion his partner. Spike sprayed the two bellies with cool fluid whilst joyfully feeling himself flushed with Xander’s warm seed. Both savored the taste of exchanged blood and the renewed strength of their link, ultimately giving in to their bodies and snoozing, Xander still embedded in his lover.

……………………..

They rose an hour or so later. Their evening was to begin with an address to all the Watchers, Slayers and wiccans currently in their care.

Mistress Minna had outdone herself it seemed, the room abuzz with stories of the richness of their accommodation, the lavish food, and their guided tours of St Petersburg and surrounds. The following weeks promised a fairly punishing education schedule and renewed training, so the tourist activities had been both unexpected and very welcome. It was a masterstroke on Minna’s part, many of the slayers already more than impressed by her magnanimous nature, and, apparently, her stunning appearance and regal presence.

As the doors pushed open to signal the entrance of the High Master and his Consort there was instant silence. Spike and Xander walked the full length of the hall, their now trademark long black coats hinting at the muscular forms enveloped within, and the shift of the supple leather emphasizing a power that all in the room felt but few fully understood. Every slayer and witch shivered at the strength of the magical signature flowing from the pair. Two rather over excited young slayer fainted as Xander’s coat brushed their legs as he passed by. They were swiftly attended to by the Mistress’s staff.

It was a smaller crowd than the meeting with the clans, but the importance of the gathering was no less critical. Xander did as he had become accustomed, standing tall and proud with his hand resting on the High Master’s shoulder.

“My Consort and I thank you all for agreeing to come.” Spike spoke slowly and paused, looking from face to face, allowing the few seconds to give weight to his address.

“We all live in difficult and dangerous times, and our collaboration will be the key to saving thousands of lives, not just of vampires but of humans.” He and Xander noted the nods around the room, it seemed that Willow and Giles had indeed convinced more than a few Watchers of the folly that was the plan of their current administration.

“We therefore ask that during your time with us, you keep an open mind. Ultimately the decision is yours as to whether you are prepared to work with us. No one holds you here and you are certainly welcome to leave at any time if you wish.

“So for now I wish to introduce some of the collaborators in this venture.” Spike nodded at a minion standing by the entrance to the hall.

As the doors were opened thirteen of the Northern clan Masters entered the room led by the Mistress Minna and flanked by Willow. The senior wiccans present also stood and filed to the front to join the vampires. Spike waited for a moment then stood and addressed the room as four young wiccans began to hand out timetables to all present. Xander’s hand slid from the shoulder as Spike rose and he stepped forward so the ruling couple gave the definite message of solidarity to their audience.

“These are the Masters of the Northern clans, led by the Mistress, whom you know is your generous host. Also assisting in the following days are the wiccans from our local coven, along with sisters and brothers from farther afield – all led by the Mistress Willow Her reputation is legend as I am sure you are aware.

“There is no place for violence in this process and as you will learn, no vampire here is killing at this time. Indeed some have not killed even an animal… for decades.

“I ask that you too, pack away your stakes and appreciate the gift of the knowledge the wonderful individuals in front of you have to offer. I have their loyalty, and hope to gain yours.” Spike nodded at the Masters in front of him and they all turned to their High Master and fell to a formal kneel, oblivious of the shocked gasps of many in the room.

“Before we depart this evening, it is important that you know. The founder of the New Watchers’ Council, Rupert Giles, is currently being hosted by Mistress Minna at this time, but is gravely ill.” As expected a murmur of concern rippled through the room. Spike waited, then continued, “We are, however doing everything in our power to return him to health. Those of you who wish to visit him in his rooms are most welcome to do so, but we ask that you respect his physician’s wishes and wait until he is somewhat recovered. You will of course be given regular reports of his wellbeing.

“I thank you again for your attendance. There is a busy time ahead, and I encourage you all to have a restful evening and look forward to the next few weeks.”

The Wiccans, Watchers and Slayers filed out, but Willow, Dawn and the vampires remained. Spike waited until the door closed once more then opened his wrist, and bit deeply into Xander’s as the Mistress lifted the lid on a shallow bowl. For the second time in two days they allowed their blood to drop into the pool of blood and invited the Masters to drink. There was less of the ceremony of the previous evening, yet the reverence and respectful statements of “Thank you High Master, Consort” were no less heartfelt as they drank then departed.


Finally the Mistress excused herself, leaving only the four old friends in the ornately decorated hall. Willow and Dawn hadn’t failed to notice the two males licking each other’s wounds closed, nor the fatigue spelt out in their handsome features.

Xander stepped forward and took Willow’s hand, while Spike collected Dawn’s. Despite his statement regards visitors, the four ascended the stairs to Giles suite.

Even from the door Willow could see. Gile’s breathing was almost pained and almost imperceptibly shallow, there was an oxygen mask over his face, and a drip in his arm. Various monitors were hooked up and it was obvious from the readouts that his body was struggling.

The nurse excused herself politely as the High Master entered, and Willow raced to their old friend’s side. His hands were icy cold to the touch but the eyes flickered open as she pressed palm to palm, and with some effort Giles turned his head enough to look at the group of very concerned faces.

He smiled weakly and whispered into the mask, “It seems the gang’s all here.” He managed to squeeze Willow’s hand before dissolving into a bout of painful coughing, elevating his heart rate and causing Dawn to dissolve into tears before the nurse flew into the room to assist in response to his monitors.

Part Twenty-Four

Three days later the role of the ruling couple was one of visiting, ‘chatting’, hosting and inspiring.

Their day was now timetabled and organized by Minna’s personal assistant, Anna. The slim, six foot tall, vampire with dark strawberry blonde hair and pale blue eyes, had an eye for efficiency, a ruthless political attitude, and keen business acumen. She was a tremendous support for Spike and Xander.

The young woman was Norwegian by birth, but had been a Harvard graduate studying the ‘cell phone phenomena’ of Scandinavia in the late nineteen nineties, when she ran across the Vampire Master of the southern Swedish clans in a bar. Intelligent, multilingual and stunningly attractive, she was turned as a Childe.

Her gender orientation in life seeped into her unlife eventually, and her own sire, Master Tobias, benefited politically as the Mistress Minna (Grandchilde of the Mistress Alenka) took Anna as a lover on his first trip with her to the Northern court some two years later. She and Minna were not yet formally mated but certainly made a handsome pair, and were rarely seen apart ‘after hours’.

On their first meeting, the young vampire did as any Childe of the European Clans might, she knelt and kissed the Aurelian ring. She could smell that the High Master had recently fed and before falling to her knees, saw the fast healing bite mark on his Consort. Anna could sense the power in the blood and was rather overwhelmed, quickly prostrating herself before the ruling couple. The blood demanded servitude and obedience, but her High Master moved forward and lifted her chin gently.

“We need your skills *and* your loyalty, not groveling. We are told you can provide that, yes?”

Utterly intimidated and feeling an intrinsic desire to forgo all instructions and simply curl onto the floor with her head on the tiles, the young vampire gulped then nodded desperately.

Spike smile indulgently and kissed the pretty forehead, “Then you will be our professional assistant, and will aid my Consort and I in a most trying time. Mistress Minna has recommended you, and I trust her judgment. I am also aware of your partnership with the dear Mistress, and know that you accept our combined commitment to the Clans. I trust that you will you do your best for the same cause.” Spike dropped his fangs and bit hard into his thumb, offering it to their soon to be assistant.

Anna did not hesitate and was rewarded with a sip of the extremely potent High Master’s blood. She was still dizzy with the taste but immediately bent her neck for the High Master and sighed as she felt his fangs enter her, the exchange confirming the loyalty to the court on a visceral level. She knew – as did Spike – that she would serve and defend them all until she was dust.


Anna was brilliant at her given role. There was not a slayer, wiccan, apprentice, vampire (master, childe or minion), or watcher that felt they had missed personal attention from the High Master or his Consort. Her timetabling was extraordinary and cleverly managed to take advantage of the interrelating groups.

There was meet and greet, inspection of training, casual addresses in the daily gathering by either of the ruling party, granted audiences with Clan Masters, and congratulatory meetings with outstanding students prior to the weekly award ceremonies. All were timed to perfection and any ‘glitches’ dealt with, without any need for the ruling couple’s attention. And in addition, their usual business interests and the business of the whole European Vampire Nation… was slotted in apparently effortlessly, to the point that Xander and Spike were regularly able to relax by around midnight.

Willow and Minna initially accompanied them on the first two days, but opted to do their own tours the second afternoon, realizing the truth of the adoration for the ruling couple.

Willow grinned as she and Minna jokingly likened them to rock stars and those attending the court to groupies. On the third afternoon however, as the wiccan watched her old friend and the extraordinary Spike, she realized that they were so much more than that. Their demeanor, their commitment, even the most passing contact with those in their care… they were extraordinary in every way. The High Master William and his Consort Alexander gave out such power now that even Willow itched as though with hives when with them for too long. She was a power in her own right, yet these two together were something quite different. Willow had no doubt as to why all the lesser vampires struggled to stay standing in the presence of the ruling couple.

Xander had been sweet and listened with some amusement to her ‘itchy’ complaint, then, on the third night of their new regime, encouraged her to partake of a mouthful of his own blood, something that she was very unwilling to do… and yet… it did make a difference. She still felt the pair quite profoundly as they entered the room, but it was no longer an irritation, rather a sense of unfettered happiness.

Willow was rather concerned that the slayers might feel the discomfort while not having her advantage of being the long time friend of the Consort. She attended one of the education sessions and found something quite different. It seemed that her own immense power caused the itches, as the other wiccans and Slayers spoke in awe of a sense of exhilaration whenever the two were present, then went on to swoon over how handsome they were and how kind and how beautiful the Mistress was and her clothes…. and at that point Willow departed. It seemed she should perhaps shift her attention to her own.

She met with the senior witches present later that evening. Their understanding of the power of the ruling High Master and his Consort was somewhat different to their apprentices and the Slayers. First and foremost was the difference in age of the senior wiccans. It seemed to make a difference, the former averaging around forty, their apprentices and slayers, half that, if not less. The witches had all felt the power of the vampiric High Master of Europe, but the feeling was not that of a normal vampire or even a regular Master demon. The High Master was ensouled, the inheritor, the favored Childe of the former Aurelian Master, one fourth of the Scourge of Europe… and there was more… His Aura was a warm shade of deep blue, indicating benevolence and good will … also strength and honor… And even more extraordingary, his Consort’s aura was identical. The ruling couple’s magical power felt like the edge of an embrace… it still felt dangerous, but enticing and hopeful; prickly, but inviting.

Willow grinned as the various witches stood and attempted to explain what it was they felt.

Proceedings moved on quickly from there. Their alliances settled and the issue of auras one of ongoing intrigue, the witches were under no delusion as to their task. The *had* to educate the slayers and their minders - the young watchers - and to protect their own wellbeing as the Watchers’ Council had sent out yet another hard line edict demanding the elimination of all those with ‘demon origins or connections’. It was an interesting contradiction since the Slayers themselves were all part demon entity, something the clans and the wiccans hoped would come to be understood in the schooling of their groups.


Twelve days into the program, Xander was ‘doing the rounds’ while the High Master dealt with a couple of clan issues in southern Greece via a conference call.

The Consort was aware that even his single presence distracted the sessions, so approached the ‘breakout room’ cautiously.

There was a tiny girl sitting next to the entrance sobbing. She could not have been more than six or seven years old. Xander melted as the red head looked up with tearful green eyes, she was so like the little Willow he had known years before. He shrugged off his coat, wrapped it around her, then lifted her into his lap, adjusting them until they both sat with the small girl gradually relaxing in the soft, warm lining.

Xander was pleased when she pushed even closer, so ventured a question. “Do you feel like telling me what’s wrong?” Xander looked down and began to stroke the pretty red hair. He then tried again in French and this time she responded (He silently thanked Anton for insisting on him learning two – and a bit! – European languages while Spike was recovering from the accident.)

Still crying quietly she mumbled into his shoulder in French with a definite Belgian accent, “I miss my Mama… and Papa… We always had cuddles… *always*! And I … oh… [sob] I know I’m a Slayer, because they said… but I just want to… see… [hic] Mama and Papa!!…” She lifted tearful eyes to meet Xander’s look of compassion, then began to sob in earnest. As she calmed a little Xander felt her snuggle in for a tighter hug. Then, amongst hiccupping sobs and residual tears she looked at him squarely in the eye and articulated a question that encompassed a thousand wrongs, “Why won’t they let me go home? Papa and Mama must be so worried… for Elouise too… The watcher men came to school and took us… and I still have presents that I made for Easter!… And they won’t know where we are!” She dissolved into tears as Xander hugged her close and realized the implications of the statement.

Rather than continue on his ‘tour d’ jour’, Xander lifted the child and carried the small girl at speed through the palace, and directly to Willow’s quarters.

The witch was having a break but responded to the knock on the door. A very upset looking Xander stood with a now sleeping little body in arms.

Xander settled his charge on the small settee in Willow’s sitting room still wrapped in black, the wiccan not failing to notice Xander’s stunning leather coat wrapped around the child and her snuggling down for comfort, sleeping on, before they spoke.

“Since when have the Watcher’s council been *abducting* slayers?”

“What?”

“*When* did the council start pulling these *children* from their homes and schools?”

“I wasn’t aware they had?”

“This *child* and her sister were taken from their school! Her parents have no idea where they are! Wills this is beyond serious! If there are two here under our care… how many more do we have? And how many more are the Council ripping out of their mothers’ arms?!” Xander was so upset that there was no way Willow could block the waves of power and emotion flowing from him. He was pacing the room but stopped as he passed her for the third time, “Can you access the abductions of fifteen and under girls in the last two years and cross reference them with the names of the Slayers that we know of?”

Still staring in shock at the petite figure now sleeping in her drawing room, Willow quickly agreed. “Ummm yes… yes of course! Oh Goddess Xan! The poor sweetie… no wonder half of them have been crying! I thought it was the training and that sort of thing… Xander this is *so* wrong!”

“Does Giles know?”

“Xander you *know* Giles! He would *never* agree to this!!”

“But I’ll bet our current ‘Head Wanker’ would! If *nothing* else comes of this exercise with the northern clans, we have to stop the abductions!” Xander looked at Willow pleadingly, knowing he was sending messages of distress through the Consort/Master link but unable to control his emotions.

Spike was at Willow’s door within minutes. He wrapped his arms around his distressed Consort and watched in near disbelief as the current list of European Slayers (kindly supplied by Andrew) was cross referenced with the international and national missing persons lists for the previous two years (since Mr James Moxley had taken power).

The ripple of anger as Spike arrived was augmented by Xander’s upset, and left Willow with an overwhelming, very primal sense of fear. Spike kept hold of Xander’s hand but moved toward the tiny figure.

By the time he stood back to address Willow, the High Master was in game face, standing resolute and proud as he growled, “This is our ace in the hole, and I *will* drain that bastard if I ever get within ten miles of ‘im!

“We return every slayer to their families – magic or no magic… they *don’t* take something that later might be willingly given. It’s a bloody callin’ not a sentence!!! Stupid bastards make it into a curse and rip tiny tots from their mothers to indoctrinate them with a bunch of rubbish from some dusty ol’ tomes. I thought I was soulless but this … this is…” Spike was sending off such waves of frustration that Xander was barely holding on to his own sanity. He did the only thing he could think of and bared his neck.

The vampire bit very hard and deep. It was in no way the loving attentions Xander had so come to enjoy, but a vicious necessary claiming bite that had the single aim of centering the very distressed High Master.

Willow gasped and began to panic as she saw Xander pale and begin to pass out. She need not have worried, a wrist was firmly planted at her friend’s lips, and the Consort latched on. Xander’s color returned and they sat to discuss strategy.

Spike, Xander and Willow visited Giles at his bedside later that day to present their findings. Giles was distressed but unsurprised by the revelation that the Council was now abducting and brainwashing their Slayers.

The man looked a little better than when he arrived in St Petersburg, though he was decidedly grey and far slimmer than was normal for a man of his stature. He was still on oxygen but it was through a nose piece which was a relief. With only one more round of chemotherapy to endure, he was looking forward to moving independently again in a week or two.

There had been wheel chairs and needing to be lifted; the humiliation of being wrapped in layers of sheets and a ‘space blanket’ as chemotherapy took its effect; being bathed by a nurse daily; and suffering catheters and enemas as his body was no longer in his control. To his shame he had cried as he had asked for his pajama bottoms and was told “No” in no uncertain terms, the answer itself not upsetting, the explanation the cause… “You can have them but I am not sure you are yet ready for the pads that would go with them”… Six days later as Giles determinedly attempted to put his own pajamas on the ‘rigors’ had set in, and despite his best efforts he was shaking so hard that he could not even say his name… the weakness that followed gave him no choice but to cry quietly while a kindly nurse assisted him to finally ‘get respectable’.

Willow had visited the afternoon of the 'pants incident' just as a hefty sedative was applied and Giles finally slipped into unconsciousness. The white haired wiccan drew on the Earth’s strength on Giles’ behalf. Xander, Spike and Willow had never failed to visit daily since his arrival, nor had Andrew and a couple of the older Slayers, and for that Giles was grateful. But he still felt he had let them all down.

Now the three sat at Giles’ bedside, the old watcher was as angry as any of his companions. He could not believe the vicious new policy of ‘indoctrination’ had extended to abducting tiny girl Slayers from under their parent’s noses!

Anton was on a conference call to the group as it was confirmed beyond doubt that the Council had begun grabbing little Slayers by force shortly after Moxley had come to power.

They had gathered the evidence. Magic or no magic, kidnapping a minor was an internationally indictable offence. Moxley may have his lackeys but he had *not* done his paperwork, and the trail of offences stopped at him. He would be easily convicted. But Anton counseled caution, and the ruling couple listened.

They quietly spoke to all Watchers present, listing the names of girls involved – many of whom were present in St Petersburg. All those present were stunned beyond belief. They had known that some of the girls were missing their homes, but had no real understanding of why. Now with the reports (confirmed) of abductions and virtual brainwashing exercises with the Slayers, the vast majority of Watchers, already on the side of those trying to resolve things, were horrified to learn that the little girls in their care might not even be there willingly, nor as it turned out, legally!

There was whole hearted support for returning any girl that wished to go, and for the mandatory return of any child under fifteen, unless the move risked the young woman in some way. Four of the watchers resolved to track down the other under aged abductees across Europe and return them to their families (with a plan to offer the same to the post fifteen year old Slayers after that). Meanwhile Willow and a couple of Mistress Minna’s staff would work on the case against the perpetrators, sometimes knowing the laws of all the countries in Europe was helpful and the combined network of the Aurelian clans and Anton’s connections really could not be beaten. Anna was in her element, swiftly coordinating the upgrading of their internal network, establishing safe houses for the Slayers, even ensuring that every meeting had juice, blood, fresh coffee and ice water on hand.


At the end of the second month at Minna’s summer palace, Spike decided, and his Consort agreed wholeheartedly. He called the young PA in as their last meeting finished around eleven that night. She entered and fell to her knees, assuming there was a problem. But instead of criticism, Spike lifted her chin. “My Consort and I are extremely grateful for your efforts on our behalf and your partner, your Mistress Minna is *so* proud of you. I wish to offer my thanks in a time honored way.” Spike opened his wrist and allowed her to drink. She barely took a single draft but the gesture was something she had only ever dreamed of. Then, Anna let her tears fall as the Consort’s wrist was also offered, and despite her sobs, she managed to take a tiny mouthful before pulling away.

Spike leaned forward and whispered to their lovely assistant, “Now, I have spoken to your lovely Mistress, and we have agreed that it is wise that if you are to Mate it should be while we are here.” Spike reached for his Consort’s hand and Xander stepped forward, not just accepting the familiar gesture but also moving to grasp the hand of the rather overwhelmed young vampire as she attempted to stand.

Minna arrived barely minutes later, and Willow swiftly began preparations for a full mating of vampire Mistresses.

Meanwhile the tracing of abductions continued. It had been decided that the small girls taken from their families should be re-schooled along with their parents. The latter group being the suggestion of the Consort having grown up on the Hellmouth, there was no doubt that denial was not of use to anyone!

Some parents were distressed beyond belief, their tiny girls torn from them when at school or sport or … even at the Mall… Anna was in her element. She managed to accommodate them and graciously hosting the incoming groups and allowing the reuniting to occur as soon as the High Master was available.

Spike was fluent in most languages and without exception the parents were both tearful and appreciative… and supportive of the vampire/renegade watcher agenda.


Xander was wandering in to their rooms at the end of a very long week eight of their venture when he noticed his beautiful friend with elbows on the table and face in his hands. He moved swiftly, placed the coffee and the O pos on the table then enveloped his tired looking blonde lover in his arms.

“Penny for your thoughts lover?”

“The bastards are bringin’ forward the dates. We’ve hurt them by returnin’ a lot of bloody weeny little loves to their parents… and now they’re gonna try ta wipe us all out! I swear that no human who does that deserves his soul …. None!”

Xander opened his wrist and appealed to Anna with a begging look, as she arrived to check if she was further needed that evening.

Anton was on the phone within minutes.

Part Twenty-Five

Moxley had his spies who arrived with the second wave of Watchers, and consequently sacked every Watcher he found to be associating with the St Petersburg Court. But his ‘spies’ were generally working for him because of fear, not commitment to his cause. They were easily identified by others in the group, then ‘informed and converted’, all bar one, and Spike let the rather weasel-like Simon return to his boss.

After receiving the report, the rotund, balding, Moxley raged around the meeting room, pacing back and forth behind his Chairman’s seat as soon as he learned of the numbers of Slayers and Watchers involved in the ‘betrayal’. In his view it added insult to injury considering those Slayers who had been returned to their homes after he had worked *so* hard to gather them, or in his terms “…harvested the crop and molded them for their role.”

He finally stilled and rounded on the group of rather nonplussed looking Watchers in the room. “Eliminate them… all! Every *being* associating with that abomination of a ‘Court’. Raze the building to the ground and stake or shoot anything or anyone that escapes!”

A very young looking Watcher who could not have been more than nineteen, blanched but still managed to squeak out “But sir… some of them are our colleagues, we can’t just…!”

“You want to join them boy?? Because I’m happy to accommodate! I said *Kill*. *Them*. *All*.”

One of the older watchers then piped up, “But Mr Giles is…”

“Giles is history. His moral compass is corrupted, his body is failing, and he is no longer even a Watcher. Good God, it will be an act of kindness for that bastard! How hard is it to kill an invalid!!? Just put a bloody pillow on his face… you’ll be doing him a favor!”

A thirty something mild mannered Frenchman stood at that point, “Sir I wish to protest! We cannot just go in murdering young Slayers! There will be…”

He was cut off by Moxley, “These girls are *dead* to their parents anyway, and the Watchers signed their lives to us when they joined. And *so*, might I remind you, did you!

“The rest of that group of demon scum?… Who cares! Bloody dead things and witches is all they are!”

Moxley was on a roll, so missed some of the furtive looks that flew around the table. Not everyone in the room was quite so comfortable with murder on their hands.

The meeting was adjourned with Moxley calling his right of veto on any matter, and eventually simply issuing an edict.

All individuals involved or associated with the St Petersburg group were to be eliminated, and within a week of the St Petersburg downfall, all the remaining European Slayers not associated with the ‘uprising’ would be ordered to kill demons of *any* variety on sight, those failing to comply would also be ‘removed’.

The majority of the Watchers’ Council was stunned into silence. This was *not* a decision based on justice or balance, but literally the stuff of the Middle Ages Inquisition.

Andrew received a text message within minutes of the meeting’s conclusion and alerted Spike.

……………………

Spike and Xander’s Sire arrived on the evening following the edict. It was the first time they had seen Anton truly angry. The Immortal raged, likening Moxley’s policy to all other genocidal maniacs of the past.

The word of Moxley’s scorched earth policy had spread like wildfire – and strangely, so had the legendary efforts of the Vampiric court to return all the abducted Slayers and protect the humans and wiccans in their care. The older Slayers still present remembered their own calling… and were thrilled to conference call with the Immortal’s partner, their first Slayer, Buffy.

An additional seventeen Watchers and upward of thirty Slayers had arrived late on the day after Anton swept in, all of the latter well over fifteen years of age and were standing proud at their first meeting, and *all* opposing their current edict and wanting to assist in righting a heinous wrong.

The new group was quickly ushered into a side room to be greeted by one of Willow’s senior wiccans, given timetables of their schedules and information regards their training. After which they were fed and led to a bus which took them to their accommodation. Buses were scheduled to shuttle them back and forth as needed. Without exception all were impressed, even Moxley’s new mole, a very naive, twenty year old watcher from Mains was beginning to have second thoughts.

The ruling couple and Minna welcomed the Watchers and Slayers in their care, leaving them in no doubt that the rumors of the Northern Clans’ care for their human population were not only plausible, but true, and also in no doubt as to who were the ‘good guys’.

The entire summer palace heaved with people every daylight hour and late into the night.

Unrepentant and set on his task, Hans had chosen his own fate by threatening the Mistress with a stake after he was privately ushered into a side room and questioned about his alliegence. Hans from Mains (the young German Watcher and Moxley’s mole) had already been turned as a minion by the time of his phonecall to the dictator Moxley. Information might be power, but false information, infinitely more useful in times of war. And this, most definitely, was… war. He performed his duty then was ushered below stairs to serve his Mistress in whatever way she chose until he became dust.

…………………………………………


When Anton arrived, he had foregone all etiquette and marched directly to Spike’s suite, Anna making a swift exit as the Immortal swept into the room. Spike stood as the dark figure entered, as did his Consort. Anton threw off his coat in a rather fierce gesture. Seeing his two boys again, only reminding him of the trouble they faced.

Spike looked tired, and Xander exhausted, so as the High Master began, “I am sorry to trouble you Sire…” Anton answered by simply pulling Spike down to sit beside him on the ornate antique settee, and tore open his wrist, offering it to Spike. The smaller blonde vampire groaned then slumped a little against his friend as he gratefully accepted the powerful blood.

Anton took a little of Spike’s in return before signaling to Xander and repeating the exercise.

Already briefed regards the Watchers’ Council’s agenda, there was little to do but discuss the immediate launch of their own strategy.

The legal work had been done and there was easily enough evidence to convict immediately.

The masterstroke would be the coordinated swoop on all involved. Moxley and his cronies would be charged with organizing a Europe-wide, syndicated, child kidnapping organization. The testimony of the Watchers and former Slayers (even though many were under age), was key to the prosecution case. But they had to be sure that those testifying were protected.

Moxley’s spies were good, but the network of the High Master, Minna, the covens and renegade Watchers was far better.

They also needed to protect their own.

………….
Giles *had* to be moved as soon as possible as it was more than apparent that he was Moxley’s first target, but he was in the middle of the final chemotherapy regime and extremely ill. Moxley seemed to have marked the aged Watcher for ‘removal’ as soon as possible and engaged a rather enthusiastic mercenary to that effect.

Spike’s solution was simple. That evening Giles was moved to their rooms. And not just to their rooms but into their bed. Giles' own ‘sick bed’ stuffed with a dummy as a foil.

Meanwhile the High Master and Consort slept on a mattress placed beside the old Watcher, despite Spike’s aversion to the smell of illness.

Giles was in no state to act or even comment. It was the second day of his final treatment and he spent most of it under the careful eye of a lovely oncology nurse as he shivered his way through the last of the chemotherapy.

He had known what to expect by now, on an academic level, but was still adjusting to his baldness in all regions, and the extreme vulnerability he felt as a catheter was reinserted to collect his urine and bag attached for any faeces. This time it was Xander and Spike who comforted the old Watcher as he shook uncontrollably. Eventually his teeth stopped chattering and amidst sobs, he continued to apologize for ‘being such a bother’.


It was early afternoon and Giles had slept a little in the middle of the enormous four poster bed. When he awoke both Master and Consort were lying either side of their friend. Both had an arm over his torso trapping him between them. He felt dreadful, exhausted, humiliated but safe. Xander was half snoozing too until Spike began to comfort the ill human.

“C’mon ya ol’ bugger… The boy’s got your back and some silly bastard of a High Master is here too, no need ta be strong for now… Who are we gonna bloody tell?! C’n smell the tears comin’. Just let go of that stiff upper … and trust us yeah? Let ol’ Spike and Xan take care of you.” Spike dialed up Giles’ pain medication to the maximum the nurse had recommended, then removed all the monitoring equipment he dared, knowing he could detect even the smallest shift in heartbeat or scent.

Giles relaxed into the caring embrace, let out a strained laugh then began to cry. All the frustration and fear regarding his illness, and the months of worry over the Watchers’ Council, and the years of grief and angst before that, dissipated into the tight hug of two friends. He gave in to the permission to be vulnerable in their care. Rolling painfully toward Spike, the near bald, very ill man buried his head in the crook of the Master Vampire’s arm and felt a warm body spoon him softly from behind. Like a small child, he sobbed himself to sleep.


The old watcher awoke abruptly and alone in the bed somewhere near five in the afternoon to yet another bout of nausea. He dry retched three times, before the nurse was able to add an extra ‘boost’ to his I.V. and his stomach settled a little. He relaxed somewhat, then burst into another round of rather embarrassing silent tears. The doctor in attendance felt he should report the incident to a troubled looking Consort and High Master.

Ushered into the High Master's office by Anna, the youngish medical specialist began abruptly, “Are there any next of kin?”

Spike was immediately in game face as Xander’s stress level ramped up to a critical when Spike literally yelled through both link and mouth, “What’s happened??!! He was fine when we left him not yet an hour ago!”

And Xander quickly offered, “We’re his family.” The young doctor did not seem at all phased by the raised voice of the High Master, which surprised the Consort, but then Xander saw him blink – a thin membrane passing over the eyes that on closer inspection were indeed those of a reptile and a slight dropping of the glamour as Spike’s power rolled through the room with the distress of the High Master.

“Well then, I must tell you that he is in need some counseling and a great deal of support from you all while he recovers. Sadly the human body is so flawed and the drugs we have had to use in this latest treatment are likely to temporarily alter his brain chemistry. Apart from the uncertainty of being unwell, and the ongoing issue with his hepatitis complicating the whole thing, his usual emotional state will be disrupted.

“We will examine his medication and add an anti depressant if necessary, once this round of chemotherapy had performed its task. In the interim I would suggest a few drops of your own blood if you are willing and some form of hashish – it will have the dual effects of quelling his nausea and increasing his appetite whilst also improving his feeling of well being. Do you think he would be amenable to that if I suggest it?”

Spike relaxed a little and almost grinned as he answered, “Chap was a bloody rabble rouser in the late sixties ‘n seventies, reckon I can hear his inner Ripper cheerin’ already. Go ahead and suggest it – we’ll sort the supply.”

The young doctor smiled and nodded, then added,“Oh and one last thing, I recommend a macrobiotic diet – nothing complicated – shall I give you now or…?”

“Just hand it to Anna on your way out – she’ll talk to the kitchen staff. Poor bugger’s been eatin’ next to nothing ‘til now… Cook will be mighty pleased when the tray comes back with even half a plateful of anythin’ eaten.”


The following evening, Willow and the nurse were sitting talking quietly as Giles slept, when the assassin struck. The Watchers had not warned the mercenary of the strength of the wards that alerted the household of any intruder’s entry, nor anticipated that a powerful witch and the Mistress of the household (and her partner) might be sleeping alongside their target, so the attacking individual was ridiculously out maneuvered.

Ex-Captain Bosworth had no ‘beef’ against his target, it was simply another job. He had been doing the same for various private interests ever since leaving the Legion nine years ago. He had conventional weapons, and given the free standing building and the angles involved, an evening of reconnaissance dictated no other choice but to rappel from the roof and try to shoot through a window. He had done his research and read the documents, and performed his task. He knew they had moved the target and also knew the suspended entry was risky. But he had been successful in more difficult circumstances. And he was to be handsomely rewarded.

The red dot centered on the elderly gent’s forehead and the whine of the automatic weapon was detected.

The Senior witch and Mistress acted.

Before he had a chance to compress the trigger, the ex-soldier found himself frozen in position. Immediately and effortlessly, Mistress Minna put him into thrall, extracting the information they needed, then swiftly draining and turning the mercenary.

She had a new minion with just enough memory to keep his deadly skills, but ensuring his loyalty only to his Mistress and her will.

Willow turned away as the gun for hire was drained. Her only solace, the sounds of ecstasy as the former foreign legion soldier came in the Mistress’s hand as she milked him of both his semen and his blood. The new minion had no control over his errant ‘member’. He like so many others, would continue to be instantly hard, to the point of pain, as soon as the Mistress or and of the Higher Court were present. In the privacy of the housings below the palace, he would be perpetually safe from the sun, trained to serve and free to pleasure. It was their only permitted relief and their demons did not hesitate.

Bosworth was the new boy on the block and eager to enjoy his new status. His demon was stronger than some, though he, like the others of his ilk, could not quite remember what their previous alliances or lives had been. He did know however, that he would defend his Mistress until he was dust. It included seeking out and draining his 'employer', the mole in the hole which he did on the third night.

Before the trials of the abductors began, the eviscerated body of a Watcher who had arrived along with the first group, complete with full hand written confession of his betrayal, was found near the southern gate. It proved that Hans was not the only one, and it was not, perhaps, the pure justice the ruling couple would have preferred, but was understood.

The senior minion, Bosworth, went on to serve his Mistress as a loyal and effective head of security at her winter court in Kopenhagen for just over sixty years before he was dusted.

……………………………

Early on the morning two days after the attempted annihilation of Giles, the raids on the Watcher Headquarters and various satellite offices across Europe occurred.

It was technically a police raid, ordered by the governments in each country and coordinated via Interpol across eleven European nations. All individuals involved in the abductions were arrested. Fearful of the Watcher’s magical abilities, the wiccans had all combined energies to bind any magicks attempted by or around the Watchers, outside the St Petersburg trusted group. Glamours and cloaking spells simply failed to take, and the normal human judicial system took its course.

The world of international politics and law did what the Vampire Court could not. Anton had friends in very high places and as it turned out, Moxley’s action regards the ‘abduction strategy’ was to be a fatal blunder.


Moxley and four others were charged by a human court with kidnapping minors, and a variety of other charges. Most pertaining to holding an individual against their will, torture of a minor and various other misdemeanors that even at international law level spelt a lifetime of jail.

The courts of England were swift and efficient, and on show. It was a closed case and one rather embarrassing on an international level as it had come to light that the kidnapping ring had been operating for two years with its home base in England yet completely without action by the police services… and another sixteen countries were involved.

The courts in other countries were swift to redress the oversight, the convictions eased along by the related cases and bolstered by international law and precedent.

The Emergency Watchers’ Council lay low and appointed a new Chairperson, with restricted powers after their experience with Moxley. The very odd part being that the ‘new guard’ was apparently very happy to ‘muck in’ with the renegades.

The trials of the Shameful Seventeen (as the press had dubbed them) across Europe were *very* public. The press had a field day showing images of tiny sobbing girls pointing fingers at their captors, and equally emotional parents describing horrific tales of searching and grieving for months. Moxley and his cronies were named as ‘leaders of a bizarre blood cult’. Despite a good defense, the information gathered by Willow and the court group was utterly damning in every case.

Xander could not help but smile at the speculation regards the motivation, assuming ‘white slave traders’ and ‘pedophilic predators’ when none of the nineteen could provide a viable reason for abducting the girls. All pointed the finger at Moxley as leader.

Eventually Moxley and twenty two others across Europe were convicted. Internally the coup was complete. The headquarters was relocated to St Petersburg temporarily, and Andrew was installed as their Chairperson. Giles, sadly, was still not well enough to take on a fully participatory role.


………………

Three months after his internment in a jail just outside Manchester, Moxley was transferred to a medium security jail nearer to London. He smelt a reprieve and assumed he still had supporters in the Watchers’ group. With no family to speak of and few former colleagues interested in his wellbeing he really had no way of finding out what had happened to the Council. ‘In’ for twenty years non parole, he began to devise his own method of getting a ‘cushier deal’. Three weeks after arriving at his new abode, Moxley managed to convince the guards of his ‘suicidal tendencies’. He had expected to be moved to the infirmary then make an escape from there, but the sadly under-funded facility simply moved him to a high security ward in the local hospital.


After a month on heavy medication, which strangely (when he swallowed) did indeed seem to make him feel calmer, the former watcher managed to contact one of his former Council colleagues via phone, but had severely miscalculated the level of antipathy that most Watchers now had for him. The bullying of other Watchers, the kidnapping and brainwashing of Slayers, and the scorched earth policies that he invoked – including killing some of their own, was all too much. His location was reported to a still recovering Giles, who contacted the High Master of Europe on the instructions of the new Council, and asked Spike for the Court’s assistance.

Moxley disappeared from his isolation cell the following evening. The security camera reported a simple ‘there one minute and gone the next’. No-one could forward an explanation. To cover their own bafflement, the facility reported suicide. Shortly after, he was reported dead by his own hand. There was a cursory tribute made to him at the New Council headquarters, but few mourned his passing. A distant cousin of Moxley’s inherited a small amount of money and the matter was buried… literally.

Several covens had banded together to transport their nemesis from his hospital room, to a room in a quiet French country estate on the border of Switzerland. The ancient rooms of the farm house had little light and were cool, even in the height of the hot summer they were enduring.

A still disorientated Moxley was swiftly shackled, yet managed to sneer at the ruling couple as they entered the small room he was occupying.

“Ho, the real bastards appear!” He spat in their direction. “Too afraid of me to take me on bare fisted? Well F#$@ you! F#$@ you!! The gay half breed and his whore what a handsome…”

His words were cut off by a perfectly calm Mistress. Minna had stepped from behind the ruling couple in full game face. The iron fingers pressing into his throat not cutting off his air, but rather, crushing his larynx. There was no more sound. She smiled at her High Master.

“Much better. May I deal with him High Master, I am sure you and your Consort have better things to do.”

Spike simply nodded and ushered his Consort from the room.

Moxley would have screamed in pain but was no longer able, then realized his supreme error. Minna took the ex-Watcher hard and fast, deliberately stroking the man to near completion as she drained him, then feeding him but a few drops of her own blood as they all moved aside so the human could spurt his hot seed onto the ground as his body succumbed.

Moxley like a few others before him, had ‘earned’ the right to be turned as a minion. And given the deliberate nature of his turning, he would also be a begging ‘bottom’ for any demon who chose to use him.

As the man died, Minna whispered to him in perfect English, “You were a whore for power Mister Moxley, now you are simply a whore… oh… and a demon… enjoy.” The Mistress then dropped the body of her newest minion and walked from the room. She ordered him transported to their demon brothel in Moscow.

The first act of the newly risen minion was to roll over and present his rear to the older vampire sent to monitor his rising. He was taken hard and fast, painful pleasure and in complete silence, the damage to his larynx being permanent, carried over from his pre turning. He couldn’t quite sort out why he felt wrong and right at the same time, so simply smiled stupidly as a cool body completed inside him. He was then led to his permanent quarters in the brothel, joining others of his kind and some beings whose race he thought he should know but couldn’t work out why.

He was fed animal blood and was still trying to remember his own name as the Mistress’s staff collared him then chained short, forcing him to hold a kneel position on the ground. He was stimulated and prepared, then, just before coming, had a full restraint fitted to his nether regions and a large butt plug inserted with retainer strap to ensure its permanence. The new vampire grinned, though barely registered the instructions: his fittings would remain constantly until his willing services were required; he was to shower and remain lubed at all times; he was to obey the Mistresses and Masters in all things; and he *would* display his enjoyment always.

Moxley knew he should try to understand why he felt so different but was a little too confused about everything to bother so simply went with his demon’s instinct to submit and smiled at the handler.

After his restraints were locked into place, he turned to the minion next to him and they grinned at each other. Moxley actually enjoyed the feeling of being restrained. He felt he belonged and snorted a silent laugh with all the awareness of a one year old at play group. His act was reciprocated. He couldn’t remember his name, or anything else, but it seemed like this was his place and his body felt good, even if he was still hungry for something.

Within the hour, he began to rub his caged erection against the ground and the action moved the plug in his rear. He repeated the act, eventually having a dry orgasm. It quickly became a constant behavior, mimicking that of his other four collared and chained vampire compatriots in the servicing room. He knew their faces but could not remember why.

They were easily trained and rewarded for good behavior by occasionally having their constant erections un-caged and release permitted, or by being fed a tiny drop of a Master’s blood with their animal meal. Moxley knew there was something ‘before’, but really could not process the thought to its conclusion. Over time he learned that he had hurt many of his kind but could not really remember the before and had no real remorse. Now his demon purred as he made his handlers happy by servicing their clients.

Twelve years later, Moxley was dusted accidentally during an amorous encounter with a Na’alich demon, his client taking the minion a little too enthusiastically over a chair and the broken wood penetrating the unbeating heart of the former danger to all demons.

Part Twenty-Six

The Mistress Minna had offered another building the clan owned in St Petersburg for the temporary headquarters of the Emergency Watchers’ Council, at least until all the old guard had been dealt with and then with an option to stay.

Giles’ remained at Mistress Minna’s St Petersburg establishment, initially unable to travel, but also needed for his advice even though his recovery was extremely slow. When Spike and Xander were present on the estate, they made sure to boost his regular ‘vitamin drink’ of a few drops of the High Master and the Consort’s blood (unbeknownst to Giles of course!).

Despite his frailty, he still managed to address the young Watchers in the first formal meeting of the Emergency Watchers’ Council in a speech from behind a large boardroom table. His colleagues were ushered in only after the invalid was carried to his place in the strong arms of the High Master, Spike stunned by how light the man felt.

Settled with his lower half out of sight and warmly wrapped in a thick blanket of pure angora, he quietly outlined the plans for the current Council, its revised policies and new structure.

The thirty minute meeting went well with no dissent among the ranks, and resulted in the voting in of Andrew as the head of organization (a position he continued well beyond the ‘emergency’ period). As the group filed out, the last few watchers could not help but observe that the old Watcher had slumped forward into the embrace of the Consort, and that the High Master was looking more than a little concerned. Spike turned enough to flash yellow eyes at Andrew who was at the back of the group and took the hint, ushering the group out quickly with talk of agendas and timetables for the following day.

Andrew rose to his task as Chairperson, swiftly appointing a number of Watchers to specialist roles on the Council and immediately ratifying the agreement with the European Vampire Court, and the Covens. He also sent word to a number of other peaceful demon clans guaranteeing their protection. It was a relief to all concerned – including his own Slayers.

He had matured and grown with his Watcher’s role. Having taken an early and passionate stand with Giles against the injustices, he had quickly became pivotal in organizing other dissenters and the training in St Petersburg.

He now made a surprisingly fine leader of the whole organization, despite some still very quirky habits that were pure ‘Andrew’. Lunch still came in a paper bag and consisted of food that seemed more appropriate for a five year old; he still insisted on carrying around his pipe and taken to wearing his great coat at all times but in bed – despite obviously sweating in the heat of summer; and he still quoted Star Wars and various cartoons. Despite his foibles, however, he was a calm, tough negotiator when needed; he delegated confidently and regularly praised his colleagues and Slayers; he had an exceptional interest in Vampiric Law and wiccan practices, and a fair grasp of modern science; and an apparent ability to date some of the most beautiful, statuesque women of St Petersburg (causing some grumbles of jealousy amongst a few of the younger watchers!)

Andrew continued to visit Giles on a daily basis, including the old Watcher by swiftly debriefing him on daily goings on and asking his advice in all matters. Giles felt honored to be treated in such a way, and pleased that he could still contribute, even if it did have to be from his bed or a comfortable chair in his rooms.

It was after just such a session that Spike spotted Andrew leaning over one of the balustrades on an outside balcony, his head in his hands.

As Spike approached he could smell the tears and worried a little. Andrew had been working tirelessly for months. Spike sidled up beside the Watcher, taking care to make a little noise so the man might compose himself before needing to engage. He too leaned on the ornate ironwork of the balcony and after several minutes said quietly, “Penny for your thoughts, luv?”

Andrew wiped his face then clasped his hands in front of himself, not really moving positions as he stared out into space, “Is he going to be OK? Giles, I mean. He should have improved by now, you know, more than he has?!” He turned his face toward Spike, looking very young and very vulnerable. As pleading hazel eyes met azure blue, the latter flashed with gold at the thought their friend might not endure.

Spike answered truthfully, “I don’t rightly know… Silly sod’s been runnin’ ‘imself ragged for years… lately it’s to do with your lot. But you don’t live through Ripper and a swag of near apocalypses without some effects. Witches have done their best, so ‘ave the Docs, but he never did anythin’ by halves so the combination of illnesses weren’t a real good starting point for the ol’ librarian.

“Safe to say, he his best bet is rest and some TLC. Should have a few years in ‘im yet.”

“But you could turn him – that would fix it and Willow could give him a soul!”

“Don’t reckon he’d take to that idea mate. Too many years fightin’ for the other side.”

“But…”

“Look pet, ’Sup to you now… And you’ll do just fine… We’ll work on saving the boy, but you need to save the day. So here… pep up, reckon you might need a bit of a lift too pet… Don’t normally do this, but…”

Andrew had always wondered what vampire blood tasted like, and now he knew as Spike tore open his wrist and offered it to the man.

Andrew took the ambrosia. It was beyond anything he had imagined, yet he did not even complete a full exchange as Spike did not drink of him, so still only had half the picture. But he still felt it enough.

Taking a mere mouthful, the buzz though his entire system was extraordinary, and at a profound level he realized his part in saving the magical individuals around him. For the very first time in his life he truly felt that he was on the side of the heroes, and would give his life to fulfill his promise to them. And in that moment had insight into Giles and Willow, and Xander and Spike… and all the others. Yet just here, just now was so tired and dizzy, so he took another small mouthful then passed out.

“Oh bloody hell!” Spike stood above the unconscious body of the new Chairman of the Watchers.

Close on a half hour later, Andrew roused to be greeted by a young minion of Minna’s who was tentatively mopping his brow.

“Are you alright Sir?”

Andrew sat up on a bed that was in a room somewhere in the bowels of the Minna's building with a young minion’s careful attentions and cool cloth. He thanked and dismissed her.

“I will inform the High Master, so that all for now Sir? The Mistress said I had to…”

“No I’m… thanks you can… Hey look, I will tell the Mistress to thank you. OK?”

“Oh Um Sir, I um…”, before she even finished the sentence she scurried from the room, terrified of the threats made of her should she disappoint either the Mistress or worse, the High Master.

Andrew then saw the High Master entering the room, the vampire’s wink and grin, and Xander’s genuine smile and upturned hands causing a now mature Andrew to give the two a rather embarrassed smile… “I.. ummm... Sorry about the passing out... Anyways... I think I have a job to do… so I’d better… go do… thanks.” With that the new leader of the Watchers stood, shugged on his coat and composed himself before brushing past the ruling couple. Spike had been his role model... and he always liked Xander... but the two together were something to aspire to. He would not let them down.



By the time Moxley was turned, Giles was back at the Coven in England, still dreadfully thin and still very pale, but the sickly yellow color had faded and he was walking slowly with the aid of a stick. He was also planning a visit the Lake District the following spring to spend two weeks rambling with some old school chums and their wives. Willow happily reported the intended trip to Xander and Spike, as it was the first time that Giles had seemed to be hopeful and planning his retired future for as long as she could remember.

………………….


Apart from spending a couple of days in St Petersburg every few weeks until Giles was moved, Spike and Xander’s Court moved back to their home in Switzerland, and their attention shifted back to the affairs of the Clans, their own business interests, and some catch up leisure time.

Jim, Sandy, Andy and Kelly all arrived just after the conclusion of the Moxley incident to spend three delightful weeks at the castle of the High Master (though staff were instructed to avoid such references if possible).

Without exception, the four Americans gasped at the enormous ancient structure as they stepped from the car.

Jim shook Xander’s hand then gave in to the urge to give a rather emotional and uncharacteristic hug as soon as he alighted the limousine that had been sent to collect them from Basel. Sandy embraced both their hosts, as did Kelly, but it was Andy who was strangely the most emotional.

He held each man in turn in a long bear hug then insisted that they would, “Never try to die on me again!” Spike was examined particularly closely, Andy noting a rather obvious scar down one side of Spike’s neck that he was sure could not have been there before, and assumed it to be from the accident, and that there would be more elsewhere.

After dinner and general catchup discussions, Sandy insisted and Xander finally pulled out the police photographs of the car, and a couple of Spike’s first weeks, then the shaved headed Spike, and finally his own casts. It was sobering, even for the ruling couple. Then they dismissed the matter.

Jim was sitting opposite Spike in an antique brocade chair, enjoying a post dinner port and coffee.

“Gotta say William, this place is like somethin’ out of a fairytale! I can’t imagine many architects today with the kind of skills to even begin planning a project like this – and never mind ordering the gargoyles for the roof… In fact you’d be hard pressed to find enough stone masons in California to build it - let alone the internals!”

“Yeah well, I guess I’ve picked the right partner if we ever need something fixed.” Spike raised his glass to Jim and smiled.

“Masterstroke by your Uncle Anton while you and Alex were both convalescing, by the way. Our business is booming in the new economic climate over here. Quality buildings, exclusive contracts, and the right man running it with the right contacts. Really has been a dream run all round.” Jim stood and raised his glass, “To Will and Alex, and their leading Europe into a new era. We are all richer for knowing you. And here’s to a long and happy future.”

The sound of clinking glasses and “To Will and Alex” filled the room. And the double meaning of the toast was lost on all but the hosts.

The remainder of the visit by their friends was delightful. Shopping trips, lovely drives to wineries and side adventures to various places of interest kept the four guests fully occupied. Jim was concerned that William seemed to spend every waking hour working, but now appreciated the fact that his business interests really were global and quite a lot more extensive than his own construction company.

He noted that the young man worked odd hours, waking late and working through the night. But there were so many time zones in the boy's business, he understood that it must have been a learned behaviour. William did join them for evening meals and events, and was openly attentive and charming, though seemed to eat little and had a habit of returning to his study as the others retired for the evening.

Jim suspected that Xander was being ‘relieved of work worries’ by his partner a little for the duration of the Sacramento group’s stay. Athough there were a number of nights when he would notice both men in the formal study in deep discussion, or on a conference call as the guests returned from the theatre or an evening meal out as ‘couples’ in restaurants recommended by the locals.

On their final evening together, much time was spent talking quietly.

Sandy ‘mothered’ her two lovely young men and gushing over how well they looked and what a wonderful time they had provided, then going on to make them promise a visit to Sacramento again at some point.

Jim spoke of work mostly, but finally pulled Alex aside to let his 'European Manager' know just how proud he was of his Alex, and how happy that the ‘thing’ with William had worked out. Xander simply grinned and said, “Thanks Uncle Jim”, which earned him a light punch on the arm, then a grin, followed by a firm hug.

Spike knew something none of the others but he and his Consort seemed to know, though he suspected Kelly already had confirmed it.

He guided Andy and Kelly upstairs and through he and Xander’s own suite under the guise of ‘showing them the ultimate boudoir’, and sat them both on the bed before taking a very puzzled Andy’s hand and placing it on his partner’s belly.

Spike could hear the faint fluttering of a minute new heartbeat and had smell the scent. He smiled at Kelly and whispered,“Now’s a good time pet… I’ll leave you to it.” Then left them alone.

Kelly could work out how Spike found out, but assumed he had overheard a conversation to her older sister in the second week of their stay in the castle. Regardless, when she and Andy came downstairs, she had been very obviously kissed, and Andy seemed to be beyond happy to the point of tears.

Xander grinned, knowing the reason. Spike had promised that he would say something after they learned of Andy’s obliviousness regards impending fatherhood.

It was a teary goodbye to the two couples, though the farewell was a happy one, with many promises of reciprocal visits.

…………

It was past midnight on the night the others left, and they were lying in their spa nude, on the warm late summer’s evening, beers in hand and legs intertwined under the bubbles. There was a large rising half moon providing the only light other than one or two internal lights in the upper hallway near their bedroom. Just by Spike’s elbow, the same moon was also reflecting in a small puddle of water that had splashed over the edge of the spa at some point.

Spike’s foot crept further up between Xander’s legs, gently brushing against the bubbles and fine hair and increasingly sensitive skin.

Xander was trying to explain the new ideas he and Andy had for their San Francisco group, so Spike grinned as Xander totally lost his train of thought and groaned his approval as dexterous toes found their mark.

“Pet? ‘Member I was one of them synchro swimmers in a past life? Figure a bit of a performance under moonlight might just be in order.”

And before, Xander could even finish the thought process required (given most of his blood was now flowing to his nether regions), so was rather startled and then grinned at the handstand followed by a theatrical flurry of legs above the bubbles. After which it was all too quick, and he threw his head back when his already keen erection was taken to the back of his lover’s throat and sucked to completion in a matter of a minute.

He would reciprocate later when they were happily reclining in their bed, knowing he could bring his High Master to the heights of ecstasy and hold him there for an hour, then do it again. Despite all they had endured in the past, sometimes life was good.


…………………


New Year’s Eve of the same year.

Spike sat at the Memorial stone he had set for his Sire. Liam’s plain marble square was next to his sister Katherine’s simple stone cross, now standing upright again, courtesy of those setting the new marker. It had his Sire’s original birth and death dates in the usual fashion then another date the date of his final dusting after the dragon talon’s poison caused his demise. Two lines down after “Master of Aurelius, He helped the helpless and paid the price. Loved by W always”

It was merely a memorial as the dust was long gone, but Spike buried a time capsule with the AI business card, a hand drawn sketch by Angel of Connor as a baby, an ancient fob watch Angel had somehow kept since ‘back in the day’, a love note from Buffy aged sixteen – badly spelt and incorrect in grammar, and a perfectly penned hand written note in an envelope reading, “To my Sire with love and devotion, from Your Favorite Childe, Will”, and a kerchief with Angelus initials on it that Will had kept for well over a hundred years in the hope that his Sire would return to claim it. He had pushed it into Angel’s hand on the night of their last fight. Angel had returned it by pushing it into Spike’s old duster the night of his final death. As he placed the last item in the container, no power on earth could have stemmed the tears.

Xander held his beautiful partner as he cried openly then fed a little and cried some more, as they covered the container with soil.

Spike kissed the marble marker and whispered goodbye then buried his face in his partner’s strong shoulder. The Consort appreciated the profound connection and sent a prayer to the Powers That Be that he might *never* have to make such a gesture.

After an hour of simple contemplation and sadness, Xander led a very quiet Spike back to the car. Their flight back to Switzerland was leaving the following evening. Xander knew they would be back to Galway on occasion, but for now they had the Aurelian Vampire Court to run, and Anton wanting to involve Connor in the coming year. And more importantly (as he reminded his High Master) they still had not had their traditional New Year’s Shag.

The 'complaint made', and though it would no doubt prove a bit cold, they stopped the car somewhere halfway between the cemetery and their hotel, and dove into the back seat anyway to settle into an amorous heap.

Tradition had to count for something after all!

The End

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