Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Disclaimer: I don’t own Buffy. I just borrowed some of the characters. Rated: NC-17

Ulterior Motives

Chapter 20

Betaed by: Skippyscatt

—

Spike paced his office restlessly. He wanted Xander, here, now. But it wasn't going to happen. He also wanted to torture Arnold to dust, that might happen if he could find an excuse.

Spike knew Xander hadn't meant to cause so much trouble, but Spike was going to be master in his own house. And Xander couldn't act stubborn like that. He was Spike's thrall and would act like it or suffer the consequences. Spike couldn't keep him safe if he didn't behave himself. He loved his boy. He knew that, but he also knew that if he was soft on him they'd both get killed. Xander would get himself in a confrontation with some wannabe Master and that would be that. Spike would kill the wannabe and be lost in blood lust until someone dusted him. Not good for anyone.

So Xander had to have his nose rubbed in the fact that he was still Spike's thrall, no matter how indulgent he, Spike, was. Xander was going to get the full effect of being away from his master without permission. With permission, he could go hours without contact, without it, he couldn't stand to be more than six feet away without repercussions. And in this case he didn't have permission to be away. Spike doubted anyone would understand how it worked, but it did.

He wanted so much, wanted: to fuck him silly, to smack him up a side the head, give him chocolate, to give him his new gladius, to turn him over his knee and spank him until he begged forgiveness. He wasn't going to do any of that. He was going to make him suffer from their separation until he begged to be let back. He wasn't going to like it. It set his plans back by months.

Spike picked up the library table and smashed it to splinters, very tiny splinters.
—

Xander was chilled to the bone. He couldn't stop shivering. And everything hurt, not a great pain like a bruise, just a low level hurt like an over worked muscle. He wanted Spike to come back and get him. He knew he was wrong, his stubbornness had popped out at the wrong time. He also knew that Spike would come to get him when he decided it was time, not even begging would bring him sooner. So Xander did what he did best, he endured.

And while he endured he thought. Spike was definitely being patient with him. He knew exactly what Spike wanted. He just wasn't sure he was ready yet. He'd enjoyed the finger fuck a lot, but he was, as Faith had told him, nervous as a virgin in a whore house. And a butt plug was very different from a dick. He paced in his agitation, worrying at his decision. He'd liked everything they'd done so far. He just wasn't, well, he was. Only ... he realized that he was dithering again. He had to make a decision and stick to it.

Xander realized that he was scratching at his arms. He felt like ants were marching up and down his arms and legs with hobnail boots on. He wished Spike would come get him.

He didn't see Arnold, crouched in the shadows near the stairs, sneering at him.

—

Spike was in a foul mood, it had been twelve hours, Xander should be feeling the full effects of their separation by now. He snarled, paced, kicked the furniture and in general acted like a very pissed off Master Vampire. In capital letters. He was going to find someone to torture soon.

"Timmins! Come here! ... No! Go see my boy. See what he's doin'."

Timmins just stuck his head in the door, nodded and left again. He wasn't about to be in the same room with Spike if he could avoid it. Spike's temper was on a hair trigger and all it would take to set him off was a wrong look. Timmins didn't intend to be the one who looked at him wrong. Let someone else get gutted.

—

Xander worried about Buffy, Tara and Willow. His two meetings with Buffy and Tara had been almost identical. He knew that Buffy felt really bad about his predicament and Tara, poor, kind hearted girl that she was, felt even worse. Willow didn't seem to want to admit that she'd done anything wrong still and Xander was beginning to get pissed at her. Which upset him. He didn't want to be mad at her, but she wasn't doing anything to make him forgive her. He paced from one end of the chain to the other, walking a long arc from wall to wall at the end of it.

He wondered about Giles. What did he want? Did he want to make up, or was he just afraid that Spike would start something with Buffy if he didn't suck up? Xander decided he didn't care. As long as Giles taught him to play guitar and didn't treat him like a retarded three year old, it was all good. Xander bit his lip. He really felt terrible. He wasn't going to cry, really he wasn't. It had been hours, he'd called out, but no one had answered. He wondered how long Spike was going to leave him.

—

Timmins checked on Xander and saw Arnold gloating. He handled it like any gentleman's gentleman. He chucked the idiot out on his ear. Literally. He returned to see Xander sitting on the floor, rocking and whimpering. He'd gouged bloody furrows into his arms and legs. Timmins sighed. This was not good.

"Young Master. You must stop that. You'll do yourself an injury. Master Spike won't like that at all. Now. Let me look at you."

Xander stumbled to his feet. "I feel terrible. Now I know what Spike was talking about. If . . . why ... why doesn't he come for me? Please. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. He can punish me any way he wants to. Just ... I need him to .... please?" Xander knew he was becoming incoherent but he didn't care, he just wanted Spike to come for him.

Timmins looked Xander over, smelled him and took off. Fast. The man was in terrible shape and going down hill as Timmins watched. He needed to get Spike fast. After all Xander was asking for him. It occurred to Timmins that he didn't see the vampire that Spike had told to listen for Xander to call for him. He thought for a moment then went to find him, which didn't take long. The idiot was sitting in the garage drinking a beer. When Timmins asked him what he thought he was doing, he told him that Arnold was listening for Xander to call Spike.

Timmins punched him in the face so hard he crushed in his cheekbone. "Idiot, Arnold is jealous of Master Xander. He left him to suffer. He's probably been calling for High Master Spike forever. Go stay with the young master. I'll fetch Master Spike myself. Just pray that Master Spike doesn't decide to gut you."

Timmins made it to Spike's office in record time.

"Sir, that fool you left to listen for Xander's call was in the garage drinking beer. He left Arnold to watch Xander. I think he's been calling for you for some time now. He's in a terrible state. You better hurry."

Spike took off at a dead run. When a Master Vampire chooses to run, it's very fast. When a High Master runs, he just disappears. It took Spike no time at all to get to Xander.

By now he was in a truly pitiable state. He was now kneeling on the floor, still naked, leaning against the wall rocking and banging his head against it. He was moaning and whispering.

Spike stood for a moment to listen. "I'll be good. Please come, please, please. I'm sorry. I am. Really, really sorry. I won't leave again. I won't, I won't. Please."

Spike strode forward, keys in hand. He unlocked the locks and tossed them on the floor. He unwound the chains and dropped them. He pulled Xander into his arms and hugged him.

"You silly sod. What've you done to yourself?" Spike licked at the small trickle of blood that had run down the side of Xander's face. "You ... oh, hell, come on." Spike took the blanket from Timmins and wrapped it around Xander. He eyed the vampire who was supposed to have been listening for Xander's first call. "I'll deal with you later. Do not go anywhere."

The vampire nodded, wide-eyed. "No, master, I'll be here. Right here."

Spike glared over Xander's shoulder and snarled. "You better be."

Xander was clutching at Spike's shoulders, so he turned his attention to soothing and comforting him. "Hush, pet. I never meant to leave ya this long. Just until ya asked for me. Didn't know that wanker was gonna be a shit. Me an' Arnold have a talk coming." He eased Xander away from the wall some more, pulling him into a closer embrace. "Timmins, why don't you see that our friend stays here?"

Timmins picked up the chain and wrapped it around the vampire's waist, the lock clicked with a finality that made the minion shudder.

—

Spike took Xander back to their quarters. He had to nearly carry him, but when he tried to pick him up, Xander refused saying softly, "Better not. Let them all see."

Spike agreed but had to mutter, "Stubborn git." He let Xander stumble along at his own pace holding him up, one arm around his waist.

When they finally got to their quarters, Xander was exhausted.

"Can I lie down for a minute? I feel like I've been run over by a bus. If you're going to finish punishing me right now, I could just sleep through it. Ok?"

Spike turned to Timmins. "Run a hot bath. He's freezing."

Timmins nodded and went into the bathroom. Spike turned back to Xander. "There's going to have to be a punishment, but tomorrow is soon enough. I want you awake and aware for it. Not cruising through it half conscious. And I'm not takin' it easy on ya either."

Xander just nodded miserably and sat down on the end of the bed. "I wish I hadn't been such a shit. I wish Buffy would let up. Um... she keeps apologizing and so does Tara. What's up with that? And I haven't even seen Willow since that day at court. And I'm in so much trouble with you that it's not even funny. But you can't belt me, you just can't I won't put up with it. Anything else, I don't care. Whip me even but not a belt, please? I wish I could do it all over. Why didn't you come for me? I called and called. I apologized, I did. I swear. Really. Spike? Please don't be mad at me anymore. I don't like it. And not just because it stings. Please?"

Spike took a moment to unravel this prime example of Xander-babble. "Ok, pet, I'm not mad at ya anymore. But that doesn't mean I'll let you off. I just ... I'm not going to belt you, I promise. And I'll try to figure out something not too horribly painful. Come on." Spike hauled Xander to his feet and steered him in the general direction of the bathroom. "I think Timmins has the bath now."

Xander sighed. "I'm sorry I'm such a prick tease. I don't mean to be. I liked it with the finger thing. And a butt plug is ... interesting. Sort of. But I don't know. And I know you've been incredibly patient with me and I really appreciate it, but I ... well, I'm so not gay. I think. Only I really sort of ... I want . . . Only it's just ... um ... I feel all fuzzy headed and I'm so not making sense, but I want you to know that I'm not trying to be difficult about the sex thing. Only I don't know what to do and I don't want you to think I'm stupid and what did you do to me that I'm all babbly with the truth and stuff and I really want to shut up now." Xander clung to Spike as he eased him into the tub. Spike gave Timmins a speaking look and Timmins just handed Spike the soap and washcloth.

"He's going to be like that for a bit, I think. If you have any questions that you really want answered now's the time to ask. I wouldn't though. He ... he's a bit touchy about that sort of thing and might take it more amiss than we want. Excuse me. I'll just go and find him something to wear. If he's allowed?"

Spike nodded. "You do that. I'll deal with the babble fest." Spike turned back to Xander and sighed. "Dammit, Xander." He just shook his head and started squeezing warm water over Xander's shoulders. Xander sighed and leaned back against the side of the tub.

After a few minutes, Xander asked, "Ok. So, now what? I embarrassed you in front of Arnold and three of your lieutenants. I know I'm in deep shit, but how deep."

Spike thought. "Well, pretty deep, but everyone knows you're my favorite. And ..."

He was interrupted by a soft knock on the door. Spike called, "Come in." And Timmins entered.

"May I speak?" Spike nodded tiredly. "This is good news, in a way. Several minions have knocked, enquiring as to Xander's health. They all heard him ... asking for you. There's some discussion as to the possibility of Arnold greeting the sun. If I might?" Spike pinned Timmins with glowing eyes and Xander perked up a bit. "I would, personally, recommend that you not punish Xander too harshly. Everyone knows that he was goaded beyond what is reasonable. Mercy, on this occasion, would do more good, for all concerned, than harshness. Excuse me. I need to see to the arrangements for Xander's meal."

Timmins bowed himself out.

Spike settled back on his heels. "Well, I'll be ... um ... never mind. Hear that pet?"
Xander exhaled in a soft ‘whoosh' and nodded. "Yeah. So I'm not off the hook but the hook's not so big? That's ... good. It's good, isn't it? Please tell me it's good."

"It's good. I can figure out something fairly easy, now that I know I'm not going to have a mutiny on my hands. I can't afford that just yet." Spike rubbed his face. The last mutiny he'd been involved in had turned out really badly. Most of the court had been wiped out and Angel had been furious. "Finish your bath yourself, yeah?" Xander took the sponge from Spike and started washing himself.

Xander scrubbed himself then settled back in the warm water, which was finally beginning to drive the chill out of his bones.

Spike settled in the bedroom on the small couch in one corner and put his feet up on a poof. He lit a cigarette and drew the smoke deep into his lungs. He was going to have to quit smoking around Xander. The second hand smoke wasn't good for him.

Finally Spike knew exactly what he was going to do. He had to show his displeasure with Xander and there where many ways to do that, many of which didn't involve any pain at all. And, to Xander's mind, not much humiliation either.

Tonight was court, he could get it over with quickly, before Xander had a chance to worry himself sick. Before Spike had a chance to work himself into too much of a lather. He wasn't best pleased with the world just now, which usually led to him doing damage to everything near. Not something he wanted Xander to see just now. He managed to keep from kicking the poof into the wall by a hair.

"Xander, come in here."

Xander stuck his head out of the bathroom. "Don't you mean ‘out'? I'm not sure. I think it would be out. And, don't gag me, please. I know I'm babbling but I'm really nervous. Sorry."

Spike got up and walked to Xander. "Don't fret, pet. I decided what I'm gonna do." Xander sighed and hung his head. "See ... the thing is, I have to show that I'm displeased with you an' you're bein' punished ... In public. Everyone an' his dog knows about the other. An' I'm gonna have summat ta say ta some'un. See?"

Xander shrugged one shoulder a bit sullenly. "Not really, not with the explaining yet."

"Stop talkin' like Buffy, or I'll really gag ya. See, we've been havin' a lot of fun with the outfits. All fancy an' glittery chains. Everyone knows that all that stuff is a sign of favor. I spend a lot of time figuring out those outfits and havin' ‘em made. So, you're comin' ta court ... um ... not naked like no clothing, but naked like Godiva. See?"

Xander was sure that the Godiva Spike was talking about didn't have much to do with chocolate but he really didn't have a clue, so he asked, "Godiva? I'm sure we're not talking chocolates here. Who's he?"

"She. Long story short, she protested a decision of her husband's by riding a horse ‘naked of all ornament' through the city streets. Got changed to simply naked in later years. But she just took off all her jewelry and stuff. So you get the plainest outfit Timmins can find and ... not even sure we got plain chain anywhere."

Xander just stared at Spike for a moment then broke down. He wrapped his arms around himself and hunched his shoulders. He tried to stifle his sobs but didn't quite succeed.

Spike eased Xander into a hug, coaxing his arms to loosen, replacing Xander's arms with his own.

"Don't do that, pet. Tell me what's wrong, yeah? Ok? Look at me."

Xander sighed and wiped his eyes with the heels of his hands, scrubbing the dampness off on his thighs. "You ... you've been really good to me. Better than anyone has ever been. Gave me stuff, taught me stuff. Let me be myself. Got me a Sensei. And I can't do one thing right. I'm too stubborn and I'm dumb as a box a' rocks. I'm sorry I was bad. I'll be better, I swear. Just ... I can't be away from you. I didn't realize what it would feel like. Like ants crawling underneath my skin. And ... not ... I just kept feeling like I had to say I was sorry. It never faded, it never got worse, it was just there, scratching at me. Like nails on a chalk board, if you know what I mean. I ... sorry, I think I'm babbling again."

Spike cuddled Xander, rubbing his back and rocking him. "Here. Stop that. Ya got me doin' the ‘baby dance' with a grown man. That's how much I think a' ya. Now. Dry your eyes. Go wash your face again. I'll have Timmins lay out your kit."

Xander went to do as Spike told him to while Spike explained to Timmins exactly what he wanted. Timmins sighed softly, "Well, that's a relief. I know exactly what you want. I'll have it ready in a few minutes. When do you want him to come in?"

"Late. But no fanfare, just lead him in. See?"

"Yes, sir. He'll never realize how ... punished he is. He doesn't equate removal of privileges with a punishment. He never had any privileges to lose at home. I'll have him ready in ... half an hour after court convenes?"

Spike nodded. "Yeah, that's about right. Just bring him in the side door and up to my ... bloody hell ... throne." Spike made a rueful face. He was never going to get used to having a throne. It was ridiculous.

Timmins bowed slightly. "As you wish." He was glad this was almost over. Master Spike had been in a temper since this fiasco had started.

Timmins dug around in the closet until he found the oldest pair of jeans Xander owned. They were threadbare and nearly white with age. The hems were ragged and one knee was just a ladder of warp. He also found an old, ragged, stretched out t-shirt in an indeterminate shade of either gray or tan, it was so old no one could be sure. He laid that out on the bed for Xander, calling out to him to get dressed.

While Xander was getting dressed, Timmins hunted up a set of plain jail-house shackles. Universal belly chain, heavy duty, stainless steel ankle bands and a pair of Winchester handcuffs. They were so plain, the insult, the punishment would be obvious to all. Except Xander. Timmins nodded his head in satisfaction.

.

When Timmins came back in, Xander was standing in the middle of the room, head hanging. Timmins sighed. The boy looked beaten, not physically, but spiritually.

"Young Master Xander. It will be alright. If you are truly repentant, he will forgive you. He may be soulless, but he's not heartless. Come, let me get you ready."

Xander just held his arms out from his body to allow Timmins to put the belly chain on. Timmins dropped the leg irons on the floor and put the handcuffs on Xander, running the cuffs through the big ring on the belly chain. When he knelt to put the leg irons on, he realized that he hadn't gotten Xander any shoes. But then he realized that Xander didn't usually wear shoes. He shrugged. The floors weren't that cold.

"There." Timmins got up and took Xander by the arm. "Come, now. We better head for the court."

"No leash?" Xander nearly tripped, the chain between his ankles was shorter than he was used to.

"Um ... no. You're not worthy of being a pet just now. So, no leash. But don't worry. I doubt that Master Spike is mad enough to let anyone touch you."

Xander shuddered. That was one of his greatest fears, Spike letting someone else use him. "That's good. Really good. I don't think I could stand it if he handed me around."

Timmins stopped Xander, moved to face him and looked him in the eyes. "Master Spike will never hand you around. If he even tries it..." Timmins vamped out. "Well, he just better not." Timmins took Xander's arm again, helping him to walk.

Xander mumbled, "Well, hell, and when did you become scary vampire valet?"

"Always have been. I protect my charges. Careful, the floor slants just here."
.

Spike gave the complaining demon a filthy glare. He was already bored. All these people, demons, vampires and assorted idiots did was complain. That one took this one's, book, CD player, girl, blood, whatever. He was sick of it. He wondered if he could get away with disemboweling someone.

Evidently his expression had morphed from slightly bored to seriously annoyed, as the demon stammered to a halt. Spike grumbled, stood up and demanded, "Ok, who's got his stuff? If I don't get a truthful answer on the count of five, I'll find out for myself and whoever it is, is in deep shit. Literally. One ... two ..."

Spike didn't get any farther. A shifty eyed, ferret faced vampire stalked forward and shoved the property in question into the demon's hands, muttered, "Skank." and scurried into the crowed again. Spike snarled, then settled into his cushions again.

He didn't turn his head when he heard the door behind and beside him open. He just called the next case. Xander shuffled to his place and knelt. Spike ignored him.

Xander just knelt on the cold hard floor and kept his head bowed.

Spike heard several more complaints, keeping watch on Xander from the corner of his eye. He was a bit amused to see that most of the court was also keeping an eye on Xander. Xander was oblivious to all this. All he did was kneel at Spike's side, keep his head down and his mouth firmly shut. Spike missed his whispered, snarky comments. The boy had a wicked wit when he chose to use it.

The court endured another two hours of Spike's ill temper then one of the older vampires worked up the nerve to approach him about it.

"Please, Master Spike, forgive the boy. We're all tired of your ill temper. No one could possibly think you weak. But we are, and your temper is a sore trial to all of us. Please?" He tried to look pleading and only managed sour.

Spike looked around and all he saw were hopeful looks and woeful faces. "Fine. Good. Know your places, don't ya. Boy's got to know his too. Won't stand for defiance. Even from him."

Xander perked up anyway. He cast a hopeful look Spike's way. Spike motioned for him to stand in front of him. Xander moved from where he was to in front of Spike, he didn't bother to stand up, he just scuttled on his knees.

"Stand up, pet. Ya sorry?"

Xander nodded vigorously. "Yes, I'm really, really sorry. I ... um ... you ... well, please? I won't do it again. Really, I won't. Ok?" Xander stammered under Spike's piercing gaze.

"Ok, pet. You're forgiven. Timmins!" Timmins moved from his hiding place behind Spike.

"Yes, Master. What is your desire?"

"Take ‘im back to quarters. Get him out of those disgutin' rags and dress ‘im nice. Burn the others. Go."

Timmins took Xander by the arm and helped him off the dais and into the back hall. "There we are, young master. Let me get you out of those things." Xander held still as Timmins got him out of the chains and tossed them aside. "Let's go get you dressed in something a little nicer. Master's orders. Come on now."

Xander just followed Timmins to their quarters. He was stiff and his knees hurt. He had never realized how uncomfortable some of his baggier stuff was. Until now. He really hated the feeling of having his pants about ready to fall off his hip bones.

"Um ... I have a training session with Master Bruce on ... Friday? Do you think Spike will still let me?"

Timmins shrugged. "I'm not sure. Who knows? The temper master Spike is in just now? I wouldn't push it."

Xander sighed. "Well, the only real reason I asked is I ought to send a message to Master Bruce if I'm not going to make it. I'll ask Spike when he gets home. And ... don't just burn these, flush the ashes."

Xander yelped as cold hands grabbed his butt and pulled the baggy jeans up, effectively giving him a wedgie. "Hey! Cut that out, you'll damage the equipment. Oh. Um ... sorry."

Spike just laughed. " ‘S ok, pet. Hate those baggy things. Ya look like some sort of white-bread wanna-be thug, or something. Race ya home." he took off, just fast enough that Xander had to jog to keep up.

"No more Mr. Cranky Vamp?" Xander trotted hard to stay level with Spike, holding his baggy pants up with one hand.

"No. Punishment is all over. Forgiven and forgotten. Sort of. If you have a session with Master Bruce on Friday. That's day after tomorrow. Should I cancel your music lesson?"

Xander thought about that as they got near the door. "Don't think so. As long as Giles keeps a civil tongue in his head, I'd like to keep them up."

"Ok, I'll have someone call him. I'm not calling him myself. It's all I can do, right now, not to chew him a new one."

"Well, I'd like to just eat around it and let it fall out. So ... I'll have Sylvia call him. How's that? And just like that I'm all forgiven and it's all done?"

Spike stopped Xander with a gentle hand. "I'm not your old man, Buffy, nor Red the guilt queen. You messed up, I punished ya, and it's over. Enough said. Ok? We don't need to talk it to death."

"Ok. Thanks. Um ..." Xander kicked his toe into the floor, peeked at Spike then looked back at his feet. "Kissandmakeup? Please?"

It took Spike a second to translate that. "Sure, pet. Like kissin' you." Spike pushed Xander against the wall and put one hand on either side of his head. Xander closed his eyes and waited. Spike didn't disappoint him. The kiss started out gentle. Xander replied a little tentatively but soon put all his heart into it. Spike replied to that passion with a heated passion of his own. They both wound up panting.

Xander whimpered. Spike snarled. He backed off, that pitiful little sound softened more than his heart.

"Still need more time? Sorry, pet, but I'm almost out of patience. Can't wait much longer. Only a vampire after all's said and sifted."

Xander managed to get his head out of his groin long enough to babble, "No! Stopping? Why? Want, I ... you... really kiss good. More kissage! Now! Kissing good. Stopping bad, very bad. Not good with the really bad badness."

Spike blinked. It took him a bit of time to translate Xander's full on SoCal babble. "You like it? What's with that little ... whimper? Why? Turns me right off, it does. Stop it."

"Whimper? What ... no whimper. Not whimpering. Me? No! No whimpering. What? When? No!"

"Ya do! I swear. If ya didn't do that little scared sound, I'd a bent ya over somethin' a long time ago. Ya sound like a stepped on kitten."

Xander blinked at Spike for a moment. "Oh, that! No, not scared, no way Jose. Not scared at all. Cordy used to laugh at me for making it. Called it my fuck me moan."

Spike looked as pole axed as he'd ever looked. "Oh! Well ..."

Xander grabbed his courage with both hands. He also grabbed Spike. "No talk. Kissage. Much kissage and then more ... much, much more. Now! More!"

Spike grabbed back. Xander made that little sound again but this time Spike was really listening. Xander was anything but frightened. Spike nearly combusted on the spot. It was a needy little noise, not a frightened one.

"Oh, man, pet. I need ya, yeah? Ya wanna?"

"I wanna. I'll ... I don't ... you won't laugh at me, will you?"

"Never. Or, if I do, it's joy. Laughin' with joy, ok?"

"Ok."

"Then, stop talkin', how can I kiss ya, if your lips are flappin'?"

"Lips stopped flappin' a while ago. You're the one babbling." Spike pulled back to give Xander a fulminating glare. "You are. I'm not. Silent as a nun. Why is a nun silent? Why would a nun be more silent that anyone else?"

Spike laughed and put his hand over Xander's mouth. "Because nun's used to take vows of silence. Like you should. Shut it." But he sounded amused so Xander just sighed and put his head on Spike's chest. "Better."

Spike managed to get them into the bedroom, stumbling through the sitting room, knocking over furniture. They tumbled onto the bed and bounced once. Spike pinned Xander down on the bed and literally ripped the worn out shirt off his back. "And those damn jeans. Never wear anythin' that baggy, ever." He grabbed the waist band and pulled, careful not to let the cloth dig into Xander's tender skin. "And ... there." He ripped down both legs and jerked the torn garment out from under Xander, tumbling him over. "Beautiful bum, pet."

Xander had to laugh. Spike's ministrations had landed him on his back, torso bent so that his knees were next to his ears. "Ya think?"

Spike didn't bother to answer. He just jumped Xander's bones. Xander whimpered again.

"Stop that. Puts me off."

"Can't. Feels so good. Kiss there."

"Where?"

Xander pointed to his lips. Spike nibbled at Xander's lower lip, nipped, kissed again, nibbled more. Xander did his best to reciprocate. Spike made a funny growling sound.

"Growling? You're growling at me? What'd I do wrong?"

"Started yappin' again." Spike shut Xander up by kissing him, with tongue. Xander sucked gently on the intruding member and nipped the very tip of it. Spike searched Xander's mouth like he was hiding something he desperately wanted. "Mmm, sweet."

Xander tangled tongues with Spike, sliding his into Spike's mouth. He realized that Spike was vamped so he pressed his tongue against one of his fangs. The few drops of blood made Spike suck Xander's tongue. Xander whimpered again.

Then Spike found the one thing that made Xander scream. His nipples were very sensitive. Very. Spike's gentle pinch sent him into ecstasy. "Like that, do ya?"

"Oh, yeah. More please. Please. Oh. Oh, please. More."

So Spike gave Xander more. He pinched, licked and nibbled until Xander was babbling incoherently. Spike smiled against his boy's chest. "Like that, do ya?"

Xander wondered dimly, what he'd been so afraid of. If Spike hurt him, it would be an accident. Spike wouldn't hurt him, this way, on purpose. He obeyed Spike when he told him to roll over onto his belly.

"Don't tense up."

"Ok. What are you going to do?"

"Gonna open ya up, so I don't hurt ya. Relax."

Xander did his best to relax and found that, due to regularly wearing a plug, Spike's well-lubricated finger was not at all uncomfortable. Then it was mind blowing. Spike had stroked that something inside him. Timmins had always told him that there was more to male-on-male sex than just penetration.

"Oh! Oh, yeah! Again, do that again."

Spike obliged. He eased his finger in and out of Xander, rubbing over his sweet spot until Xander relaxed completely. He was so relaxed that he nearly fell on his face. Spike got him rolled back over on his back.

"There, pet. Pull your legs up to your chest. You'll like this. If it hurts any at all, tell me."

Xander lay back and let himself be touched. He was liking this a lot. Spike was constantly kissing him, pinching his nipples, stroking his erection, but the thing he liked the best was when Spike stroked that small place right behind his balls. When Spike did that and wriggled his fingers at the same time, all Xander could do was scream. And he seemed to be doing that a lot.

"Dammit, Spike. Do something. This is driving me insane."

"Er. Insaner. Like it?"

"Yeahyeahyeah. And oh, hell yeah. More. Do something else. Why was I so afraid of this? Mind telling me? But later. Much later. After you've done the dirty deed. Not that it's dirty exactly only that's what ... someone called it. Not a bad someone, I just can't remember who. Especially with your ... fingers there."

"More than my fingers is going up there. And I want to make sure that you like it. Ok?"
"Mmmm. Ok. Very ok. Big with the ok. Soon."

"Soon, pet."

Spike dug the tube of lube out from under the pillow, slicked his fingers again and slid three fingers into Xander. Xander nearly threw Spike off the bed. "Oh, holy Hanna. Yeah, it feels incredible, better than last time. Burns a bit. But I like it. More. Something bigger."

"In a mo', pet. Then I'll give ya something bigger. My cock. You'll like it."

"Like it. Love it. Want, now. Now!"

"Demanding little shit, ain't ya?"

"And talky. Cordy was always telling me to shut up."

Spike snorted indignantly. "Like I care. Talk all ya want. I know how ta shut ya up, if I need."

Xander squirmed and wriggled under the assault of Spike's roving hand and lips. The other hand was busy opening Xander, helping him relax enough to accept Spike without pain or damage.

When he was sure that Xander was really ready, Spike slicked himself and eased into Xander. Face-to-face so that Xander saw Spike. Somehow Spike felt that was important. Xander moaned and made that little whimpering sound. This time it had the opposite effect to the past. Spike got harder.

He moved in and out of Xander, easily, slowly, giving Xander plenty of time to feel, stretch and react. Spike slicked his hand and grasped Xander's erection. "Like it, pet?"

Xander babbled, Spike moved in and out of his warm, wet body and stroked his cock. Xander came with a scream like a steam engine. The convulsions from his orgasm caused his inner muscles to clench and release, bringing Spike to climax almost immediately. Spike roared his pleasure.

Xander let his legs drop and Spike collapsed across his broad chest. "Brilliant!"

Xander snickered wearily. "You sound so English when you say stuff like that. And your accent is different."

"Sleep now."

"Good idea."

They both fell asleep almost at once, never noticing Timmins setting a tub of baby wipes on the bedside table.

.

Spike woke up soon after, vampire recovery rates being what they are, and used the wipes to clean them both up. He watched Xander sleep for a long while, most of the night, in fact, then went to take a shower.

While the shower was running, Spike allowed himself a soft whoop of satisfaction. This was going to work. His boy had enjoyed what they'd done. He was sure of that. Now all he had to do was keep him from freaking out.

Spike was startled to feel warm hands grasp his torso. He ruthlessly controlled the urge to strike out. It had to be Xander.

"Mmm. Warm. Vampires aren't supposed to be warm."

"Takin' a hot shower, ain't I, pet?"

"Nice. Pretty vampire. Mine."

"Yeah, yours, an' you're mine."

"Ok. Deal. But ... um ... Timmins said you were supposed to give me ... something?"

"Later. Wash now. Gift later. Promise."

So they showered. Xander washed Spike's back and Spike washed Xander's. They played like kids and made a mess of the bathroom. Then they trashed the closet, looking for something for Xander to wear. Xander wanted something sexy but not trashy. Spike was all for full on trashy-goth-whore. Xander refused and they spent half an hour alternately arguing like furies and snogging like sex-starved teenagers. Which Spike wasn't but acknowledged that Xander was.

They finally settled on a pair of dark-brown leather pants, bare feet, and a fitted but not skin tight, silk t-shirt in chocolate brown that matched Xander's eyes.

Xander looked at himself in the mirror and ran a hand through his hair. "Needs cutting. It's getting way too long. You have a hair fetish, or something?"

Spike ran his fingers through Xander's hair. "Yeah, I do. I love running my fingers through your hair. It's so soft and silky. Don't cut it. If I find ya with a pair of scissors, I'll swat ya."

"Ok. But I need to do something with it. It gets into my eyes. At least let me cut the bangs enough to keep them under some kind of control."

Spike called Timmins, who stuck his head into the room, grinning. "Pillock. Ya listened in, didn't ya?"

Timmins was all innocence. "Me? No, master. It's just that you're really loud. Most of the residence heard something. Can I help you?"

Spike roared with laughter at the chagrined expression on Xander's face. "You can. Bring me a pair of scissors. Boy wants a hair cut. I'm not very good, but I'm better than most of the hair butchers we've got."

Timmins smiled. "Well, as that is the case. I offer my services. I'm considered a fair hand at hair cutting."

Timmins went to gather his things. When he came back, he cut Xander's hair under Spike's sharp eye.

When he was done, he'd cut Xander's bangs into a neat casual length which emphasized its thickness and got it out of his eyes. He'd also trimmed the back to neaten up the length. He pulled the back into a tail at the nape of Xander's neck and put an elastic around it. "There. Not bad, if I do say so myself."

Xander examined the results in the mirror, never noticing the odd fact that there was a pair of scissors floating near his ear, and a Zippo lighter over his shoulder.

"Thanks, Timmins. It looks really good."

Spike nodded, unseen in the mirror, but his voice made Xander flinch slightly. "Yeah, looks good ... sorry, pet." Xander shrugged. "Master Bruce waiting on ya?"

Xander checked his watch. "I need to be there in twenty minutes."

"What are ya workin' on?"

Xander accepted the gi Timmins offered him. Tucking it under his arm, he replied, "Gladius work. Sensei said I'm getting really good so he's going to start me on real combats."

"You sure, pet?"

"No, but he is."

.

Spike followed Xander to the dojo to watch. He wondered if Xander would be able to take his music lesson later. Master Bruce didn't cut him any slack. Xander didn't seem to mind. He was always relaxed after a lesson.

Spike stopped to talk to the martial arts master. "Why'd ya cut into his schedule? Wanna know if he's hurt or summat."

Bruce just watched Xander as he ran through his warm up. "Don't want him to get over trained. That's not good with a human. He's good, and he'll get better and better. If we don't let him get stale. That's one reason I'm adding gladius now. He's been learning the basics and he's got them down, so now, we move on. I'm going to start teaching him with edged weapons now. He'll get some cuts unless you tell me not. But I don't recommend that, it'll undermine his confidence. What do you want to do?"

"Have a healer on hand. Wait until I call one."

Bruce glanced at a door on the opposite side of the room. "I believe he's here now."

Spike looked in the same direction as Master Bruce. The man hovering in the door was a true healer, small, slight and childlike. But his power was real and evident. He wasn't an herb healer, but a power healer. He could call on the powers of the earth to heal. Spike walked across the room to greet him.

Xander finished his warmup and picked up a towel. He saw Spike crossing the room and followed him.

"Hello. Who are you?"

The healer gave Xander a startled look. "You're allowed to speak?"

Xander looked from the healer to Spike then back. "Well, maybe not?"

Spike snorted. " ‘E's not a pet." Spike cleared his throat then continued. "He's a thrall. He's my body guard and translator. He's working on a new form and I don't what him incapacitated from injuries. See?"

The healer, whose name Xander would never know, just nodded. He set his small case on a bench and sat down next to it. "I'll just wait here until I'm needed."

Xander gave him a long look then just went to the weapons safe to get a sword. Spike stopped him gently.

"I need to get a sword, that gladius I was using isn't safe. Master Bruce said to put it up for sentiment."

Spike draped an arm over Xander's shoulders. "Know that. Come ‘ere."

Xander obediently followed the pull, saying, "You said the word. Brain gone."

"What word?" Spike looked at Xander like he'd lost his mind.

"The c-word. Come. Like that word. And I'm babbling again. You make me all babbley."

Spike rubbed Xander's shoulder. "Glad, pet. Ease off, though. Got ya sommat. See?"

Spike gave Xander the long leather-covered box he'd had hidden under a bench. Master Bruce grinned slightly. He'd already seen the sword.

Xander glanced at Spike then grinned like a kid in a candy store. "For me? Really?" Spike just nodded, sad that Xander could be so excited over something so small. It was just a sword. A very good sword, but just a sword.

Xander opened the box and gazed at the sword. It was magnificent. The grip was solid oak, wrapped with bronze wire then covered with the belly skin of a shark. The pommel was a solid ball of bronze, weighted to exactly balance the blade. And what a blade it was. His training had included a great deal of knowledge of blades and steel. He could tell that this blade was real Damascus steel. The blade was perfect in every way. Perfectly shaped, perfectly tempered, perfectly sharpened

"Spike! Thank you so much. This is beautiful. It's great. Just what I wanted. No one knows how to pick a sword like you do." Xander put down the sword to hug Spike. Spike hugged him back, cursing Xander's parents, and friends, silently. The only reason he was so deeply grateful for any present was he'd never gotten many, or perhaps any, before.

"Glad you like it. Best get on with it. Master Bruce is waiting."

Xander turned to apologize to the master but he just smiled a bit and said, "Take pleasure in your present. It's a very good sword. Take a moment."

So Xander did, examining his sword and taking happy practice swings. Master Bruce finally called him to order.

Xander listened while Master Bruce gave him his instructions. Spike listened too. The Master told Xander to run through his usual exercises, using the sharp sword instead of the wooden practice one he usually used. Then he was to work on the pells. Working on the pells was what had worn out his cheap first sword.

Spike, Bruce and the healer watched Xander as he started his deadly dance of steel and muscle. He worked his way through the exercises easily and went to the pells the second he was done. The sound of steal striking wood filled the room. Xander performed the six standard attacks then started again. He continued to practice until Master Bruce called a halt, nearly an hour after Xander started.

"Enough! Good, good. Excellent job. I'm very pleased." Xander grinned, took the bottle of water from the minion and allowed him to drape a towel around his shoulders.

The healer stood, bowed to Spike, asked if he was needed anymore, and when Spike said ‘no' departed.

Spike settled on a bench with Xander beside him. Master Bruce settled on a stool and they started dissecting the training session. Between them, Master Bruce and Spike picked every motion apart while Xander asked questions.

Finally Spike stood up. "Well, pet. If you're to have your guitar lesson ya better get something to eat and then rest a bit."

Xander shrugged. "You're right." He turned to Master Bruce. He bowed, saying, "Thank you for your kind attention." in perfect Mandarin. Master Bruce just bowed back. Spike blinked in stifled amazement. Who said the boy wasn't smart? Whoever it was, Spike wanted a piece of him, right about the jugular.

.

Xander was glad he'd taken the time to eat and get in a short nap. He had gotten several requests for translations. And Sylvia was on ‘vacation', whatever that meant. He shuffled the requests into three piles. What he called, ‘No', ‘Oh, hell no', and ‘have to do it'. There was also a tiny pile of ‘do right now'.

It wouldn't take him very long to take care of the first two piles, all he did was shove them back into the mailers they'd come in and put them on a secretary's desk to be returned, one pile with a polite letter saying he didn't find the work ‘rewarding'. The second pile got a nastier one, with check boxes, telling the sender why he wouldn't touch it with a ten-foot Snarfler demon. Anything that came from a ‘second offender' also got the threat to burn any further documents.

He was just finishing up when Giles knocked on the door frame.

"Excuse me. If you're busy, I can sit in the waiting area, if you'll show me where it is."

Xander shook his head. "There isn't one. Just come in and start setting up. I'll be done in a sec. I just have to send this stuff back to the senders. My secretary is on vacation so I have to get it ready for one of the other ... er ... girls to deal with."

Giles managed to keep his shock off his face. He wasn't about to insult Xander again. Especially after Spike had reamed his ass. He wasn't about to get on the wrong side of the Master of the Hellmouth. Even if it was just Spike. He shuddered suddenly, why had he gotten to thinking of Spike as ‘just'. And when?

Xander's voice dragged him out of his thoughts with a start. "Hey, you alright? You look a bit off."

"No. I mean, I'm fine. Just had a ... moment, you might say. Unpleasant thoughts." Giles settled into the chair he'd set out for himself. "Did you practice?"

Xander pulled up his own chair. "Yes, I practiced. I think I managed to do fairly well. I missed a day. Got a bit tied up. But I don't think it hurt me any."

Giles plucked a string, checking the tuning. "Show me.

Xander started the first scale, completing the run without an error. Giles nodded. "Very good. Go on." Xander worked his way through all the scales he'd been assigned.

"Excellent. You've really been practicing. Do you have any of it memorized?"

Xander thought. "Sort of. You didn't say I should or I would have made a real effort."

"I purposely didn't tell you to. I want you to just play as much as you remember. Start at the first one and work your way through until you really don't remember. Don't worry about an error or two."

Xander managed to get about two thirds of the way through the exercises before he had to stop. Giles was pleased and let Xander know. He had to rub his face with one hand to hide it as Xander glowed with pride at the rather luke warm praise. He was finally realizing how much he'd neglected someone who had depended on him. Much more that he'd thought.

He was beginning to chew the bitter root of knowledge in earnest, and he didn't like the taste. He turned his attention back to the lesson.

"Fine, you've done very well. I want you to complete memorizing the scales. Also, work on the next two pages of scales. I'll run through them for you, so you can hear them. Then we'll work on them together, to get the fingering, for the rest of the hour."

Xander learned quite quickly and even extrapolated from the basic scale notation in order to read another octave on either side of middle C. Xander had taught himself to recognize three octaves from seeing one and a half.

Giles ended the lesson with the admonition not to practice so much that he blistered his fingers. Xander nodded but held out his hand. "Don't think I'll be in too much danger of that."

Giles looked at the calloused tips of Xander's fingers. Only two things would give him such calluses, or three. Wood working, martial arts, and playing a stringed instrument. He touched the slick, hard skin. "No, I don't think you will. See you next week?"

Xander nodded, bending away to put his instrument in its case. Giles busied himself doing the same thing. When Xander straightened up he gave Giles a different smile than Giles had ever seen. This one wasn't goofy, self-effacing or shy. It was gently amused. It set well on Xander's face.
"Friends? Giles, I'd really like to just be friends. No Mr. Giles, the Watcher and Idiot-boy Harris. Just you and me, and some music. I'd really like that. Ok?"

Giles took his glasses off and polished them on the hem of his t-shirt. "I'd like that too, Xander. Just you, me, guitars and good music." He jammed his glasses back on his face and took the hand Xander offered.