Hot, sweaty and slightly out of breath, Xander jogged up the road toward
Giles' house. He'd run most of the way across town, eager for a chance to
see his lover before the evening ended. 

It had been less than three weeks since his return from L.A. 

It felt like a lifetime.

He'd hated his job from day one. The work - packing pet food - was
tedious; the hours long and changeable. While his workmates (and 
he used that term loosely) were, by and large, the same bullying
nethanderals who had made his life hell back in eight grade. When he
finished at the end of an arduous day or a gruelling night, he was always
tired and filthy. Not that Spike ever complained about him being less
than fragrant. 

Xander had got into the habit of going to the Watcher's house straight
after work; if the hour permitted. Giles was invariably only too happy to
wave him in the direction of the washing facilities. Spike would skulk
about for a short while, making sure that no one was paying him any
mind, then he would sneak through into the bathroom. The vampire
seemed to take a peculiar pleasure in cleaning Xander - a process which
involved lips and tongues, as well as towels and wash cloths. 

Inevitably, the time they spent alone was rushed. A few fervent kisses, a
quick, frantic fumble, and then they had to hurry back to the others -
always careful to re-enter the room separately. Such sketchy encounters
only left them frustrated. Xander was becoming increasingly depressed
and Spike was clearly tiring of it all. The vampire seemed restless,
prowling around Giles' living room, making pissy comments and
'accidently' spilling blood over Buffy or Willow. He took obvious delight
in their squeals of disgust and outrage. 

Xander was on edge, waiting for his lover to snap. However, no matter
how hard he tried, he couldn't see any way out of their situation. He had
toyed with the idea of returning to L.A, but he was afraid of the
questions it would undoubtedly provoke. Questions he still wasn't ready
to answer. 

He needed more time; he needed to get his life together before he could
face them. He knew that none of them would support or even accept his
relationship with Spike. He had to be prepared to defend the choices he'd
made. These worries haunted him as he made his way along the road to
the Watcher's house.

Xander entered the courtyard just as his legs were beginning to fail him.
He sank against the cool wall of the house, trying to catch his breath.
Resisting the urge to hammer on the door, he knocked quietly. He was
surprised when it was Buffy, not the Watcher, who answered.

"Oh. Hiya Buff. Not patrolling tonight ?"

She shook her head, stepping aside to let him enter. "Nope. I officially
have the night off."

"Woah. Don't tell me Giles is getting laid back about the slaying
business," Xander teased.

Buffy closed the door behind him. "Not exactly." She waved an arm
toward an enormous mountain of books piled on, and around, the coffee
table.

"He's really missing that library isn't he," said Xander, side stepping a
precariously leaning literary tower. "Perhaps we should speak to him
about letting go of this book fetish. It seems to be getting out of hand,"
he joked, steadying the pile as it began to topple.

Buffy dropped heavily onto the couch, dislodging a few more books and
a flurry of papers. She reached for a weighty looking volume and hauled
it onto her lap. "Giles seems to think there's some big demony party
coming up," she explained. "Hence the study session."

"Need a hand ?" Xander offered. He looked around the room - no Spike -
which was a little strange.

"Would you mind," said Buffy gratefully. "Willow has some assignment
to finish. She said she'll come over tomorrow evening."

Xander surreptitiously peered into the kitchen - still no Spike. "So, " he
asked, "Where's the G-Man ?"

"The Magic shop. Apparently I have to throw some special potion at
these demons."

"What happens then ?" Xander asked.

"They die," said Buffy matter of factly. She pursed her lips. "I think they
melt."

"Oh you mean like - 'Help me, help me. I'm mellltiiinnnnng," said
Xander; doing a creditable impression of the wicked Witch from the
Wizard of Oz.

"Something like that," agreed Buffy. "Though probably without the 'help
me, help me' part."

Xander stuck his hands in his pockets and did another quick scan of the
room. "So. Where's 'Big-not-so-bad' ?" he asked casually.

"Hmph ?" Buffy's attention had returned to her book. She was tilting it
sideways to study a picture of some sort of duel horned demon.

Xander tried to keep the urgency out of his voice. "Spike. Where's 
Spike ?"

Buffy turned the book around the other way. "Oh, he's gone."

"Gone ?" Xander croaked. The word hit him like a kick to the 
stomach and he clutched Giles' desk for support as his legs tried to 
fold under him.

"Uh huh," said Buffy, her attention was still focused on the drawing.
"Giles swears he didn't lose the key again, so he must have picked the
locks."

Xander was utterly lost. "L-locks ?"

Buffy must have heard the bewilderment in his voice, she finally looked
up. "Giles caught him poking around his record collection. He was *not*
happy, so Spikey got to play in the bath again." She shrugged her slender
shoulders. "I guess that's why he decided to take off. Ungrateful of him,
but then this *is* Spike we're talking about, so why am surprised."

White-faced, Xander struggled to grasp what she was telling him.
"Wha...I mean where did he go ?"

"Giles ?"

"No," Xander gritted his teeth, "Spike."

"Oh. No idea. Giles said he was out all afternoon. He got back earlier
this evening and Spike was gone. He was still smiling when he told me."

Xander shook his head slightly. He was hearing the words but they didn't
make any sense. How could Spike be gone ? He wouldn't go, not like
this. Not without a word. He wouldn't just leave. Would he ?

Battling a growing sense of uncertainty, Xander shakily made his way to
the bathroom. A pile of heavy chains lay in the bottom of the empty tub.
The cold white porcelain seemed to mock him; the brilliant glare
dazzling beneath the harsh fluorescent light. "He wouldn't leave...He
wouldn't," Xander murmured desperately. He didn't hear Buffy come up
behind him and he nearly fell into the tub when she touched his arm.

She frowned. "Jumpy, much." She peered past him at the empty tub and
then looked at his face. "Xander are you okay ? Only you look like
you're going to be sick or something." She took a step back. "You're not
are you ?"

Xander suddenly spun around and grabbed her arms. "Why would he 
go ? He was safe here. He got fed. He can't feed himself. He wouldn't go
like this.."

His wild-eyed rambling alarmed Buffy. She pulled free of his grasp and
tried to steer him back into the other room. "Just to let you know. You
are seriously creeping me out here. She narrowed her gaze. "You're not
possessed again are you ?"

Xander shook himself, as though snapping out of a trance, and he
stumbled away from her. "I...I have to go," he said, already heading
toward the front door.

"Xander wait-" Buffy was cut off by the slam of the door. She took a
step forward, clearly torn as whether or not to follow him. Suddenly the
door reopened. "Xan-" Buffy began, then she stopped. "Oh, hi, Giles." 

Giles kicked the door shut with his foot and set the box he was carrying
down on the desk. 

"Did you see Xander ?" Buffy asked.

"See him. He practically ran me over," said Giles indignantly. He took a
small vial of brackish coloured liquid out of the box. "Thank heavens he
didn't actually knock me down. I dread to think what would have been
the outcome if this had broken. Have you any idea how hard it is to get
the urine of a Buobloa demon."

Buffy pulled a face. "Er, no, and I'm guessing that I really don't want
to."

Giles put the vial down, very carefully, and began to take the other
ingredients out of the box. "Where was he going in such a hurry? 
I thought he had the evening off. Isn't he working day shifts today and
tomorrow ?"

Buffy nodded. "That's what he told me." She frowned. "I mentioned that
Spike was gone and he got all wiggy about it."

"Spike ?" said Giles distractedly, sniffing at a handful of long purple
grass. "Perhaps he's gone to celebrate."

"Hmm, maybe," said Buffy. She glanced back toward the bathroom
thoughtfully.

Giles finished laying out his purchases. "Well, we appear to have
everything. Can you help me, please." He began to gather up some of the
little jars and bottles. 

"What do you need ?" Buffy asked.

"We need to take these through into the kitchen," Giles explained. "We
have to boil them into a sort of mulch and then let it simmer for three
hours, whilst reciting a specific incantation. You stir. I'll chant."

Buffy screwed her face up as she looked down at the little vial of demon
urine. "Okay, I think I'll carry all the things *not* containing demon by-
products." She picked up another bottle; it was too dark to make out the
contents clearly. "What's in this one ?"

"Bile."

Buffy put the bottle down very quickly. "Maybe I'll just carry the grass."
She went to pick up the delicate purple strands.

"Actually that's the nasal hair of a Funchaa demon."

Buffy's outstretched hand froze above the table. "It's what ?"
.
Giles grinned. "Joke," he said. "It is grass. A native of South America
actual-" His voice died off as Buffy turned her head and glared at him. 

"A joke," she repeated.

Giles looked faintly apologetic as he backed away toward the kitchen.
"Well, I'll...erm...just take these."

Buffy picked up the grass - warily, and followed him.


***********
"Pick up, pick up, pick up...." Xander chanted into the receiver. There
was a click and the sound of an answering machine starting up. A
recording of Cordelia's voice began to play.

"Hello, welcome to Angel Investigations. We help the...

"No," he groaned. 

Xander was in a phone booth somewhere near the outskirts of town; it
was beginning to get very dark and he wasn't all that certain where he
was exactly. The only street name he could see was unfamiliar, as were
the handful of ramshackle houses that lined both sides of the deserted
street. 

He had run off blindly after leaving Buffy. Simply needing to get away,
with no idea where he was going, only stopping when his legs finally
crumpled beneath him. Eventually, when his heart stopped pounding and
he could take a breath without his chest spasming in protest, Xander had
dug some change out of his pocket and stumbled off in search of a phone
booth. The third one he'd found was intact and Xander had dialled the
number he'd memorised.

The answer machine finished playing its message, there was a long tone
and then silence - inviting him to speak. Xander's mouth had dried up.
"Hell-hello, Angel. It's Xander..I-"

"Xander ? Xander are you there ?"

Xander almost dropped the receiver in shock as Angel's voice suddenly
cut in. "Angel ?" he gasped in relief.

"Yes. What's wrong ? Where are you ?" Angel sounded upset.

Xander sucked in a deep breath which was released as a shaky sob. 
"S-Spike....gone..." was all he could manage as he struggled to bring
himself back under control.

"Spike's gone ?" Angel translated carefully.

Xander nodded instinctively.

"Xander, are you still there ?"

Pulling himself together, Xander tried to speak. He was trembling. "He
was staying with Giles. He wasn't happy ..but... but things were okay.
Then I....I went there tonight and he's gone." Xander took another deep
breath. "He wouldn't go, Angel. Not like this." He tried and failed to
keep the desperation from his voice.

"Where are you now ?" Angel asked. "Are you at home ?"

"No. I'm-" he looked around him "-I'm not sure where I am," he
admitted.

"Do you remember the mansion. The one outside of town ?"

"Yes."

"Can you get there ?"

Xander frowned. "Yes, but-"

Angel cut him off. "Go there now, and stay there. I'm on my way."

"Okay," he agreed. His voice wobbled slightly.

The vampire evidently heard it. "Xander, we'll find him."

Xander drew some small comfort from the surety in the Angel's voice.
"I'll see you there then," he said softly,

"Just a few hours Xander. I'll be there in a few hours," Angel promised.
"Don't let anyone see you. Keep this quiet okay. At least until we know
what's going on."

"Okay." Xander hesitated. "Angel ?"

"Yes."

"He wouldn't...I mean..that is, Spike - he wouldn't just leave without
saying anything." Xander couldn't bring himself to make it a question. 

Angel's quiet voice reassured him. "No. I don't believe he would."

"I...I didn't think so," Xander lied.

"It'll be alright, Xander."

Xander wanted to lose himself in that soft, calm voice. He still clutched
the receiver after it had gone dead. He held onto it for a moment or two
and then replaced it. Stepping out of the phone booth, he looked around
and tried to work out which way to go. He made a choice and set off in
what he hoped was the right direction.

<Angel knows Spike. Angel said he wouldn't go.> Xander's thoughts
turned over and over inside his head as he walked. <But he's gone> a
little voice declared, tormenting him with doubt. <He's left you, just like
they all do.> Xander dug his nails into his palms. <*NO. He hasn't left
me*> he thought fiercely. 

He shivered and glanced around him nervously. Sunnydale was not a
healthy place to wander around in after dark. Xander quickly shook off
his fear and his thoughts turned inward again<Where are you, Spike ?
Where are you ?> 

The only reply was a hollow silence.



Part Two  

Angel finished packing his bag and began to look around frantically for
his car keys. The phone call had left him with a growing sense of
unease. Though he had spoken the words out of comfort, he'd meant
what he'd told Xander. Spike would never just take off without a word. It
wasn't the younger vampire's style. Spike rarely left his lovers, but when
he did, they knew about it.

This felt all wrong. 

He slammed another drawer shut in disgust and leaned forward, resting 
his hands on the desk. Where had he put those keys ?

"Looking for these ?" The soft Irish lilt carried across the office. Angel
looked up, Doyle stood in the doorway, a bunch of keys dangling from
his slender fingers.

Angel shot him a grateful look and walked around the desk. "Thanks,"
he said, taking them. He grabbed his bag and coat and turned to face the
doorway. Doyle didn't step aside.

"You going to tell me where your going ?" the young man asked.

Angel hesitated. "I...I have to go to Sunnydale."

A shadow crossed Doyle's face. "Buffy ?" he guessed.

Angel shook his head. "No it's-" he looked away, then looked back. "It's
complicated," he said awkwardly.

Doyle folded his arms and leaned against the door-frame. "So simplify
it."

The vampire struggled to meet that clear green gaze. "It's Spike," he
admitted softly.

"Spike !" Doyle's eyebrows shot up. "You mean that grubby Brit with the
dodgy accent ?"

Angel looked pained. "You don't understand-"

"Too right, I don't," Doyle cut in. "I mean, this is the same guy who stuck
you full of hot pokers, right ? Unless you're going to tell me that you
know another 'Spike'." 

Angel's silence answered for him.

Doyle sighed. "So explain then. Why are we going to visit this 'Spike' ?"

"We ? I don't think-"

Doyle pulled himself upright and squared off against the vampire.
"Look, there's no way I'm letting you go off to see that bastard by
yourself," he declared hotly. "I mean, no offence, but your record with
him ain't exactly the best."

Angel tried to think how he could explain the changed situation. "It's not
like that any more," he said simply.

"What ? - You're best buddies now," said Doyle sarcastically. Then he
caught the look on Angel's face and his eyes widened. "No." He shook
his head in denial. "Tell me it ain't true, man.You....You are ? !"

Angel looked uncomfortable. "He's my childe, Doyle" he said helplessly.

"So what ?" Doyle's voice rose in agitation. "You smacked his arse and
forgave him ?" The young man sounded outraged.

A faint smile played around the corners of Angel's mouth as he
remembered. "Something like that," he admitted.

Doyle looked dazed. "Vampires - Who can figure 'em." He shrugged.
"Alright then, so we go and save his skinny arse."

Angel shook his head. "I'm going alone."

"Like hell you are," said Doyle fiercely. "You and he might be all pals
again, but *I* don't trust him." His expression softened slightly.
"Besides, I happen to like you minus the gaping wounds and the
agonized expression. So I think I'll just tag along for the ride, if it's
all
the same to you."

The vampire recognized the stubborn set to the young man's jaw and he
sighed. "Doyle, it's not safe for you in Sunnydale." 

Doyle opened his mouth to say something, then he caught the look in
Angel's eyes and he stopped. After a brief pause he asked. "So, what's in
Sunnydale ? Besides Spike, that is." Angel didn't answer. Doyle moved
a little closer, his body almost brushing against the vampire's. He didn't
miss the way Angel stiffened and he frowned as the vampire took a step
back. "Angel ?" he said softly.

Angel swallowed hard and looked at the young man, who was 
watching him with a worried expression. "Demon hunters. There are
demon hunters in Sunnydale," he explained flatly. "Some kind of well-
organized military movement has set up there. They call themselves the
Initiative. They're catching demons, vampires - anything non-human."

"And they're what ? Killing them," Doyle guessed with a grimace.

Angel shrugged lightly. "Probably. We don't have much information on
them. Though there's definitely some kind of scientific research going
on."

Doyle shuddered. "I'm guessing half-demons are fair game."

"Good, evil. They don't seem to have a problem with it. Their agenda is
simply to hunt and capture demons, of any orientation. Beyond that, we
don't really know anything," said Angel.

Doyle looked thoughtful. "How do you know about these guys ?"

"Spike," said Angel simply.

"What ? We're going on *his* word ?" Doyle sounded incredulous.

Angel shook his head. He really didn't want to get into this. It wasn't his
story to tell. Besides which, he had a frightened and distraught young
man anxiously waiting for him. "He's telling the truth. He..he got caught.
He only escaped because they underestimated him, and he got lucky."
Angel narrowed his eyes at his friend. "You'll have to take *my* word
on that."

Doyle hesitated for a moment or two, then he nodded. "Fair enough,
man." He moved away from the doorway. "But like I said. I'm going with
you." He cut Angel off before the vampire could speak. "You've warned
me okay," his gaze was serious and calm, "and seems to me, you're
gonna need someone to watch yer back."

Angel couldn't completely hide the sudden warmth he felt at his friend's
obvious concern. He also realised that if he refused to take Doyle the
young man would probably make his own way to Sunnydale. If there
was going to be trouble he would prefer to keep Doyle close, where he
could protect him. Reluctantly the vampire nodded."Let's go," he said.

*************************************************

Doyle slouched in his car seat and glanced across at Angel. "So, are we
thinking this 'Initiative group' has recaptured Spike ?" The vampire had
filled him in on the younger vampire's mysterious disappearance.

Angel's hands tightened on the wheel. 

"That's what I thought," said Doyle glumly. "You know, I'm really not
sure about this whole - takin' on an army thing."

"You didn't have to come," Angel reminded him.

"Hey, I'm not saying I'm not with yer. I just think the odds are a little
out
of our favour that's all. I mean, these guys have to be used to dealing
with vampires and stuff. They'll probably have all sorts of fancy gear,
ray guns and the like. Even with you and the Slayer-"

Angel cut him off. "Buffy can't know about this."

"What !" Doyle twisted round in his seat to face him. "No offence, Angel
man. I know you and the girl have a history, but can't you put it aside. Be
professional about this."

"It's more complicated than that."

"There's that word again," said Doyle, clearly exasperated. "You still
haven't said *why* this is all so 'complicated'. I think, seeing as I stand
a
good chance of being either shot or dissected here, that I deserve some
sort of an explanation."

There was a lengthy silence. Angel gripped the wheel even harder.
Finally, he spoke. "He...I...Spike is involved," - he missed the way
Doyle's jaw tightened, - "with one of Buffy's friends."

Doyle expression relaxed slightly. He wracked his brain for previous
conversations with Cordy to try and work out who it might be. Not Buffy
then, so who did that leave ? - Oz, his girl...Will ? Willy ?- Willow, that
was it, and the other boy Xander. Unable to envision any of them with
the blond vampire, he gave up and asked, "Who ?"

Angel's gaze was fixed on the road ahead. "Xander," he said quietly.

Green eyes widened in surprise. "Spike and *Xander* ? ! I mean, I've
never met the kid, but you have to admit the idea of Spike and anyone is
a little freaky. And a human ? A boy ?" Doyle remembered something.
"Didn't Cordy date him ?"

"Briefly."

"So what ? He dated Cordy for a few weeks and then decided *Spike*
was a better prospect ?" Doyle shook his head in bewilderment. "Now
that's an unsettling thought." 

Angel corrected him. "Spike and Xander got together after Cordelia left
Sunnydale. Xander, he.. he got into some trouble. Spike helped him."

Doyle's mouth twisted bitterly. "Kind of funny hearing 'Spike' and 'help'
in the same sentence. A cry for help, now that-" He broke of when Angel
shot him a dark look. "So, what ? They just bonded or something ?"

"Or something."

"That must have been some trouble the kid was in," Doyle prompted
casually.

Angel remained silent.

Doyle thought about pushing it a little more, then decided it didn't
matter. "So," he asked," What's the plan if we can't have the Slayer ?"

"We meet Xander. We find out what's going on. Then we get Spike,"
said Angel. 

Doyle nodded. That was Angel - succinct and to the point. "Well, you
know, that all sounds pretty good. Except for the bit you left out. The
part about the small army of demon hunters that are gonna be breathing
down our necks." He returned his gaze to the front and stared out at the
surrounding darkness. 

He didn't notice Angel look at him; the vampire's expression was
shadowed with concern.


***********

The full moon picked out the lonely figure like a spotlight, bathing the
boy in a pale-bluish glow. Xander's footfalls echoed softly around the
mansion as he paced back and forth across the bare stone floor. The
night chill invaded his body making his bones ache, scattering
goosebumps across his skin; he hugged himself tightly. A noise startled
him and he stopped, tense and alert - but it was only a rat, scuttling for
the safety of the shadows. 

There were too many memories trapped in this place, few of them good.
They seemed to whisper to him, summoning his own wretched misery to
the surface. His mind tortured him with possibilities, as his fears
tumbled around inside his head. Despite his own desperate wishes, and
Angel's reassurances, Xander couldn't help but consider the probability
that Spike had simply taken off. 

Perhaps Drusilla had returned to claim her lover ?

The thought left him nauseous. Unable to defeat the image of Spike in
Drusilla's arms, Xander tried to bury it beneath other memories. He
plundered his mind to dredge up every comment and conversation, every
caress and passionate bout of love making, every heated look and
suggestive remark. 

No, Spike wouldn't have left him....Not like this.......

Xander sat down on a stone plinth. Okay, he needed to try and think
through this rationally. He brushed a sleeved arm across his eyes,
banishing the hot tears that burned there. If Spike hadn't left of his own
free will, that could only mean someone had taken him. Who, Drusilla ?
Xander winced, but he knew he had to accept the possibility. 

Okay, who else ?

Dark eyes widened with horror. <No..no...no..> his mind chanted. 

Riley - Riley had been in the house. He'd seen Spike. What if soldier boy
had finally placed the vampire's face. *Oh gods*. What if the Initiative
had Spike ?

Xander doubled up, wrapping his arms around his stomach. He realised
this was the fear that had been at the back of his mind all along, but he'd
refused to listen to it. Now it had surfaced, and it refused to be
silenced. 

Images darted through his head - none of them pretty. He tasted bile in
the back of his throat as his stomach wrenched. He almost had it under
control when his imagination supplied him with another graphic image -
Spike, laid out like a lab rat, his innards exposed. 

Xander tumbled to his knees and threw up his lunch.


***********

No one was more surprised than Spike when a handful of guys, in full
combat gear, suddenly burst into the Watcher's bathroom. Any pithy
comment he might have made died upon his lips, as one of them pointed
a device at him and fired. The vampire's body bucked helplessly as
several hundred volts tore through it.

Dazed and confused, his teeth still shaking in his head, Spike could only
make out jumbled sentences as the soldiers hoisted him out off the bath.

".....chains....off...."

"...why ?"

"....look....an escape..."

"Get.....move on.....Buffy.......back soon........."

He was laid out on a tarpaulin. Spike heard the soft slink of chains as
someone undid his manacles. There was a louder metallic rattle as they
were tossed back into the tub.

"Sssh," a voice hissed urgently. "Keep it down."

New handcuffs were fastened around his wrists and ankles, then he was
unceremoniously rolled up in the stiff cloth. Smothered in darkness, the
voices faded to dull mumbles. Spike strained to hear them, but his head
was buzzing. He tried to move but none of his limbs would respond.

Spike's last thought as he felt himself being hoisted up was tinged with
an unfamiliar sense of regret - it was just too bloody bad that the boy
would think he'd ducked out on him. 

Then he passed out.

**********************************************

When he came to he was laid out on the floor, no longer chained or
wrapped in the tarpaulin. Nursing a very bad feeling - and a blinding
headache - he sat up. His mouth tightened. He recognized these white
walls. Slowly, he got to his feet and cautiously approached the invisible
wall in front of him. He could feel the electrical current it projected
tingling across his skin. This time he knew better than to try and touch
it.

He was back. Those bastards had got him.

Spike had little time for fear, unless he was inducing it in others. He was
afraid now. This place was the stuff of nightmares. A man in a lab coat
walked past. Spike growled at him and felt a perverse satisfaction when
the man quickened his step. Maybe he was done for, but William the
Bloody wasn't going down whimpering like some pathetic dog. He'd
show them what a *real* vampire was made of.

Spike grimaced as he realised that was probably their plan....Only they
undoubtedly intended to study him inside and out.

Putting him back together afterwards, was unlikely to be a consideration.

He was under no illusions about his chances of escape. Last time he'd
been lucky. Plus they had undoubtedly been used to dealing with
confused and terrified fledglings, not a century old vampire with a trick
or two up his battered sleeve. This time they would be more wary of
him. 

Spike did a quick reconnaissance of his cell. There was a small hand-
sized hatch in the ceiling for the packets of blood to be dropped through,
and that was it. The camera - he guessed it probably doubled as security
and for observation - was on the wall outside. Spike folded his coat
around him and sat back down, cross-legged, facing away from the
camera. He grinned. Maybe he could bore them to death. Whatever, he
certainly wasn't going to pander to their scientific curiosities. 

"Wankers," he muttered. Then his expression sharpened. If they had
cameras they probably also had listening devices. Okay, he'd have to be
still *and* quiet. Spike groaned inwardly, he wasn't good at this doing
nothing lark. He'd have to just try and keep it up for as long as he could.
Meanwhile, he entertained himself with thoughts on what he'd do to
these guys once he was free of the implant.

It wouldn't be pretty.

Part Three  

Xander sat, huddled on the floor, hugging his knees and rocking gently.
He stared blankly in front of him, his gaze fixed. He had been unable to
rid his mind of gruesome images of Spike, mangled and mutilated. His
stomach had only stopped heaving when it was finally empty, leaving
him with a raw throat and a dull ache in the pit of his belly.

The deadness faded from his eyes as a noise broke through his fugue. He
listened to the soft crunch and crackle of rubber on gravel, as a car
pulled up outside. Xander tucked himself further into the shadows. He
heard car doors slam, hushed voices, and footsteps approaching rapidly.

An instant later, he almost collapsed in relief as the tall figure of Angel
appeared in the mansion's doorway. 

The pale moonlight bathed the vampire's face as he looked around him,
his expression anxious. "Xander ?" he called softly. Angel tilted his head
slightly, as if detecting something, and his gaze turned to where Xander
sat - hidden in the shadows.

Xander scrambled to his feet and hurried forward. He came to an abrupt
halt an arms-breadth or so away. His eyes had picked out another figure,
standing just behind Angel. Xander glanced uncertainly at the vampire.

Angel followed his gaze. "Xander, this is Doyle. Doyle - Xander Harris."
Doyle nodded his head in greeting.

Xander spared him a brisk, "Hi," then turned to Angel. "The Initiative,"
he blurted out urgently. "I think the Initiative has Spike." Angel
exchanged a look with his silent companion and Xander felt his chest
tighten. He had been clinging to the frail hope that the vampire would
dismiss his idea. "You think so too. Don't you," he said bleakly.

Angel reached for his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "We'll get him
back," the vampire promised.

Xander didn't answer. He bit his lip and stared down at his feet. His
scuffed sneakers began to blur as tears filled his vision. Cold fingers
gently caught hold of his chin and drew his gaze back up.

"I need you to think hard, Xander. Tell me everything you know about
this Initiative. Spike said that Giles was trying to get a line on them.
Did
he find out anything ?" Angel asked.

Xander fidgeted beneath the vampire's gaze, unhappy at being the one to
bring Angel this news. "Buffy, she's....She's dating one of them. A guy
called Riley."

"What ?" Angel and Doyle spoke simultaneously.

Angel's face reflected his shock. Xander didn't miss Doyle's concerned
frown, or the way the young man inched closer to the vampire. "The boy
in the coffee shop," Angel murmured softly.

Xander didn't get the reference."Who ?"

Angel looked at him, his expression still stunned. "She was talking to a
guy outside the coffee shop. Willow, she....she said he was just a
friend...." His voice trailed off.

"Tall, fair, built like a quarter back ?" Xander asked. Angel nodded.
"Certainly sounds like our soldier boy," said Xander a touch bitterly. "He
follows Buffy round like a puppy. He's taken to 'popping' round Giles'
now and then. He must have recognized Spike."

"Giles knows about him ?" Clearly, Angel was struggling to get to grips
with this unexpected turn of events.

Xander's mouth twisted. "Sort of. I mean, he knows Riley's military, but
Riley isn't exactly the sharing sort. He seems to view us as amateurish
bunglers, interfering in their covert operations." There was no mistaking
the outrage in Xander's tone. "Giles is too indignant to contradict him,
and I'm guessing Buffy is shy about discussing all the details of her
Slayer status."

"He knows she's the Slayer ?" This time there was no mistaking the
vampire's incredulity.

"Yep," Xander confirmed. "They gate-crashed one another's demon-
bashing evening and had to come clean."

Angel's expression shifted as he processed this information and stored it
away. He returned to the problem in hand. "So, Buffy knows the location
of the Initiative base ?"

Xander shook his head, frustrated. "No. Like I said, G.I Joe isn't exactly
chatty about his alter ego. He's pretty big on the whole 'sworn to secrecy'
deal."

"Where does he live ?" Angel asked.

"Erm..on campus I guess. He's a T.A. at the college."

"Yer not thinkin' of going after this guy ?" Doyle spoke up finally. He
put himself in front of Angel, pinning the vampire with his gaze. "Think,
Angel man. He's military trained. He'll more than likely die before he
tells us anything."

"I don't have a problem with that," said Xander flatly. In his mind, Riley
was now the murderous bastard who had handed his lover over to be
tortured by the soldier's scientific team-mates.

"No," said Angel. "Doyle's right. Torturing this guy isn't an option. We
don't have the time it would take to break him."

Doyle shivered at the vampire's matter-of-fact tone.

Xander merely nodded. "So what *do* we do ?" he asked frantically.

"We try a more accessible source," said Angel cryptically. "Is Willy's
place still open ?"

Xander frowned, but he nodded. "Yeah. Do you think he'll know
anything ?"

Angel smiled. "Oh, Willy always knows more than is healthy for him."

Doyle had caught up with the conversation. "And this guy will be happy
to talk to us ?"

"He'll talk," said Angel. "Though I doubt he'll be happy about it."

**************************************************

They drove back to town in silence. 

Xander sat alone on the back seat, struggling to keep a lock on his
emotions. He felt as though he was breaking down inside. He ached and
shivered as though gripped by a fever, tormented by the knowledge that
Spike was probably back in the hands of the Initiative. His colourful
imagination refused to desert him, and he was plagued with painfully
graphic images of scientists doing unspeakable things to his lover. Every
moment passed by with agonizing slowness and he suppressed the
irrational urge to throw open the car door and leap out onto the road. 

All this sitting and doing nothing was slowly destroying him.

He glanced surreptitiously at the young man in the front passenger seat.
So this was Doyle; the 'demon-boy' who, according to Spike, Angel
'hankered' after. Xander was vaguely disappointed. He wasn't at all how
Xander had envisioned him. For one thing, he didn't look remotely
demonic. Unless he was hiding something under that unhappy looking
shirt ? All Xander saw was a sharp-faced young man, a handful of years
older than himself, with very dark hair, pale skin, and slightly haunted
green eyes.

He had been aware of the intensity of that cool, green gaze as they'd
walked to the car. Xander wasn't so lost in his grief that he couldn't
sense the mild hostility emanating from the other man. Though it had
taken him a moment to figure out a possible reason. Xander was
surprised - he couldn't ever recall any one ever being jealous of him
before, certainly not for 'romantic reasons'.

Under different circumstances he might have taken the time to set the
record straight and put Doyle's mind at ease (after enjoying the moment
for a while). However, with Spike out there - the victim of some mad
military group - he had other priorities. Besides, he didn't know this guy
well enough to discuss personal matters, let Angel handle that side of
things. All he wanted was Spike. 

**************************************************

Doyle resisted the urge to turn around in his seat and stare at the young
man behind him. He could feel those dark eyes burning into the back of
his head. What *was* the kid's problem ? Okay, maybe that wasn't fair.
He had hardly been friendly so far in his overtures towards this 'Xander'
guy.

Maybe because he wasn't feeling that friendly. Doyle felt a touch guilty
about that. He tried to tell himself there wasn't a reason for it. Not that
it
worked, he knew *exactly* what the reason was. He was jealous.

Angel had dropped everything and high tailed it to Sunnydale after one
phone call from this kid. Having driven here like a mad man, he'd then
raced into some deserted mansion - and suddenly 'Mr Stand-offish was
'Mr Touchy-feely'. Doyle had watched as Angel had comforted and
petted the boy, gazing at him with those big soulful eyes, all tortured and
angsty. What was going on here ?

Spike and Xander might be an item (something which still defied belief)
but his demon senses picked up a certain amount of inexplicable sexual
tension between Angel and the boy. Doyle tried to deny it, on the
grounds that it was just too painful to contemplate, but that, and the
easy, intimate way that Angel and Xander touched and looked at one
another, whispered to him that they were lovers. If not now, then
certainly some time not long past.

The thought gutted him.

Doyle had known for some time that his casual attraction to the vampire
had developed into something much deeper; just as his feelings for
Cordelia had forged themselves into a firm friendship. He had refrained
from confiding in his princess, on the grounds that subtlety and Cordelia
rarely featured in the same sentence. She would no doubt try to meddle
in a well meaning, but ultimately cringingly embarrassing way.

Besides, what would be the point. There was the curse to consider; its
presence effectively put the blocks on them ever having a more personal
relationship. Except, this little scenario told him that might not be the
case any more. Had Angel been holding out on him ? Was the curse no
longer in effect ? The possibility sobered him. Doyle had held on to the
belief that Angel felt *something* for him, something beyond friendship
and a working arrangement. Hadn't the instance with the Sourge proved
that ?

He had been ready to sacrifice himself that night, the ultimate penance
for past weaknesses. The Scourge's killing device had seared his flesh as
he'd struggled to wrench the cables apart. Sweat had trickled down his
face and into his eyes, blinding him. He couldn't maintain his demon
guise and he was forced to resume his human face - the pain had quickly
intensified. Suddenly the metal cradle had rocked and another pair of
hands covered his own. 

Their combined strength had pulled the cables apart just as the heat
became unbearable. Before the device could self destruct Angel had
grabbed him and jumped. The vampire had cradled his body with his
own as they plummeted into the hold. Nevertheless, he was dazed and
disorientated when they'd hit bottom, and it was a moment or two before
he rolled off the vampire. Weakly, he'd raised his head and looked at
Angel; the expression on the vampire's face had told him more than
words ever could. Then Cordy had coming rushing up and the moment
had been broken.

Ever since then, Angel seemed to have become more protective of him.
Discouraging him from coming along on cases, worrying over whether
or not he was paying his debts and avoiding trouble. Had he been
misreading all the signals ? Was Angel tired of the trouble he kept
getting into ? Perhaps the vampire was simply fed up of bailing him out
of situations. Was their 'doomed unspoken love' really a one sided
infatuation on his part ?

Doyle closed his eyes and conjured up the expression on Angel's face as
they'd lain together in the hold of the ship. No, he hadn't mistaken it. 

So now he just had to figure out what the hell was going on......


************

Angel called out, "Hello, Willy," as the trio sauntered casually into the
bar. Doyle marvelled at how the vampire managed to make a simple
two-word greeting sound like a threat.

The weasely man behind the bar paled. "A-Angel. Al-always good to see
you," he stammered. The lie practically stood up and cheered.

"We should talk, Willy," said Angel smoothly. "Catch up on old times."

"Well, I....I would y'know, but I'm not really in the talking business any
more. If you catch my drift." 

Willy nearly dropped the glass he was wiping as Angel came round to
his side of the bar. The vampire plucked the glass out of the bartender's
trembling fingers and collected three more from underneath the counter.
He poured out four generous shots of whiskey. 

Xander downed his quickly, coughing as the liquor scorched his throat. 

Angel handed the filled glass back to the shaking barman. "Willy,
Willy," he admonished gently. "All I meant was that you and I should
have a friendly chat. A few quiet words, nothing more." He draped an
arm across the smaller man's shoulders.

Willy tried to wriggle away, Angel's hold tightened and he froze."Oh,
well, sure," he said hurriedly. "Old times, I can talk about them."

Angel nodded, releasing him and moving back around to the front of the
bar. He glanced at the two remaining patrons who hadn't yet vacated
their bar stools. They immediately got up and left.

Doyle had witnessed Angel in 'threatening vampire mode' before, but
this was a little too Angelusy for comfort. Though he noted that Xander
didn't appear to have a problem with it. The boy stood to the vampire's
left, adding his own icy stare to assist in intimidating the beleaguered
bartender.

Not that it was necessary, Willy had already crumpled. He glanced
around him unhappily before looking up at Angel. "What d'ya need ?" he
asked in a resigned voice.

Angel leaned across the bar, toying with his glass. "What's the word on
combat fashions in Sunnydale? I hear that army green is in this season."

Willy's frightened face took on an even more terrified expression. "I
don't know nuttin' about that," he said quickly. Snatching up a cloth he
began to wipe down the counter in an agitated manner.

Angel caught hold of his wrist. "Willy, you sound scared, and I've got to
ask myself - 'Why ?' - If you really don't know anything."

Willy shook his head fervently. "I don't know, honest, Angel..ll..aargh."
His voice rose and fell in a silent scream, as the vampire squeezed the
bones in his wrist.

Doyle winced as he heard them grate against one another.

Willy whimpered. "P-please, Angel."

Angel's face was expressionless. "I need to know where I can find them,
Willy. I need everything you have on them." He released the man's wrist.

Willy pulled it back, cradling it against his chest. "I...I don't know
much.
Those that see 'em don't tend to get the chance to tell anyone about it.
Rumour is they're taking out anything non-human. Dragging them off to
some underground lab and doing experiments and stuff before killing
'em."

Doyle felt Xander stiffen beside him and he instinctively put a hand on
the boy's arm, by way of wordless comfort. He was surprised when
Xander acknowledged his touch with a brief, grateful look.

"Where ?" Angel pressed.

"No one knows," said Willy. "Honest," he added quickly, seeing the
vampire's look. "Some say it's out of town." He twitched.

Angel caught it. "And what do you say, Willy ?" he asked.

The bartender glanced around him, lowered his head, and mumbled,
"There was a Graddox demon in 'ere last week. He said he'd heard from
a Murunder who was foraging in the woods, out past the college. The
Murunder says she saw some guys dressed in military gear coming up
out of the ground."

Doyle was puzzled. "The ground ? You mean like a trap door ?"

Willy shrugged. "Who knows what she meant. Murunder ain't exactly
chatty-"

Angel cut in. "Where can I find this Murunder ?"

"You can't. Word is she vanished." The bartender shivered. "Everyone's
vanishing. They either disappear or they leave town. Sunnydale ain't a
good place to be no more. It's killin' business," he muttered morosely,
looking around his near-empty bar.

Angel put down his glass and rested his forearms on the counter. Willy
took a nervous step back. "One more thing," Angel said calmly. "I heard
that Spike's in town."

"Spike ? Er...Yeah...I heard that too."

"You haven't seen him ?"

The denial died on Willy's lips as he looked into Angel's dark eyes. He
nodded reluctantly. "He was in here a while back, but he didn't exactly
get a warm welcome." The bartender backpedaled frantically as the
vampire's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Not my fault, Angel. Not my
fault. He..Well, everyone knows he's been hangin' out with the Slayer
see, and that's not made him too popular with the local clientele."

"What happened ?" Xander asked, gripping the bar, his knuckles white.

Willy glanced back and forth between him and Angel. "Three Antori
decided to 'persuade' him to drink elsewhere. I couldn't do anything." He
appealed to Angel desperately. "You know what they're like. They'd
have torn my place apart if I'd interfered, and then they'd have done the
same to me."

Angel nodded, accepting the bartender's defence. "So, that was the last
time you saw Spike ?"

"Yeah." The little man's expression turned shifty. "But I thought...that is
I heard, that you and he had settled your differ-" He broke off abruptly as
Angel's hand shot forward and the vampire's fingers closed around his
injured wrist.

"You should be very careful what you hear, Willy," Angel cautioned.

"I won't say nuttin' to no one. I won't, I promise. My word on it. You can
trust me Angel. I know when to keep my mouth shut, you know that,"
Willy babbled frantically.

Angel maintained his hold on the squirming bartender. "Come on, Willy.
Talk to me. Give me the rest. I know that you keep a detail on the
Watcher's house."

"He does ?" This from Xander, who looked vaguely sickened by the
idea.

"I...I...," Willy stammered, then he sighed and nodded wearily. "There
was a raid, earlier this evening. A small team of humans in combat gear
broke into the Watcher's house. They came out carrying something
wrapped in a taup. My sources couldn't see what it was."

"Spike ?" Angel guessed, squeezing the bartender's wrist lightly.

Willy winced."Yeah," he confessed reluctantly. "They think it was him."

Xander's pallor had increased as the bartender filled in the holes in his
'Initiative-has-Spike-theory'. Whatever desperate hopes he'd been
clinging to shattered, and he swayed as a wave of nausea swept through
him. A slender arm circled his back, steadying him.

"You okay ?" a soft voice asked.

Xander looked into a pair of compassionate green eyes and nodded.
"Yeah, just thinking, you know." Doyle didn't say anything, but he kept
his arm around him and Xander leaned into the support gratefully.

Angel had released Willy and stepped back. "We were never here, Willy.
You never saw us. Have you got that ?" He let his voice carry around the
bar to let the few lingering patrons receive the same message.

Willy's head bobbed madly. "Yes, yes. I never saw you. Any of you." He
glanced at Doyle and Xander. "No one will here anything from me,
Angel. You have my most solemn word."

"Good," said Angel. He smiled coldly. "Because I would hate to have to
come back and have another little chat with you, Willy."

The bartender swallowed hard. After the three had left he sagged,
wiping the sweat off his face with his cloth. Maybe it was time to
relocate. He'd heard New York offered great opportunities to hard-
working entrepreneurs such as himself.......

Part Four  

Spike ground his teeth quietly and tried to ignore the white-coated men
who moved around him. He had been taken out with a dart gun,
(rendering him conscious but paralysed) before suffering the indignity of
being stripped and laid out on a medical trolley. He was held fast by
metal bands around his legs, ankles, wrists and throat.

While the paralysis was wearing off, he'd given some thought as how to
deal with what was coming. Scaring these gits was fun, but he'd finally
gone for the unanimated corpse option - if only because he knew that his
lack of response would piss the hell out of them. He hadn't so much as
blinked during all the tests they'd put him through and he could sense
their rising agitation. He curbed a smug smile and went back to singing
Sex Pistols lyrics in his head.

So far he'd been submerged in freezing water, had electrical charges of
varying frequencies and amplitudes fired through his body, been cut and
sliced with scalpels, prodded with needles, and burned with heated
metal rods. All the time the white-coated humans hovered around him,
carefully avoiding meeting his eyes as they attached electrodes to his
head or examined his teeth.

Spike's main problem wasn't handling the pain; it was coping with the
boredom. Not that the tests weren't painful - one or two had proved
bloody agonizing, and he'd held back an angry snarl only with some
difficulty. However, he'd learned how to cope with pain before these
wankers were even born.

These guys were bungling amateurs compared to the likes of his Sire.
Angelus would have regarded this sort of thing as foreplay. Spike simply
fell back on age-old habits; drawing on a time when he was conditioned
to let the agony wash through him without so much as a twitch or a
whimper.

<The good old days> he thought bitterly. He couldn't honestly say he
missed them. There had been a certain perverse pleasure in being the
focus of Angelus'...'attentions', but on the whole Spike preferred a Sire
who didn't regard skinning and bone breaking as a way of getting him in
the mood. Of course, back then it would have worked.

Spike's thoughts troubled him as he lay, absently counting the tiles on
the ceiling. That was the problem with the non-active approach, it left
him with too much time to think and mope. Right now his thoughts
dwelt on a certain dark-haired, dark-eyed human, with a surprising
knack for fellatio.

What was Xander doing while he was stuck in this hell hole ? The boy
must have discovered he was missing by now. Was the whelp looking
for him ? 

Or had he simply believed that Spike had deserted him.

That cut deep. He wished now he'd talked more with the boy. He tended
to forget that humans needed constant worded reassurances. Vampires
did a lot of their communicating non-verbally. They could detect the
smallest changes in expression, pick up the subtlest changes in body
scent - indicating arousal, desire, need. 

It kind of did away with the necessity for lengthy conversations.
Vampires knew how they felt about one another, they didn't need to hash
it out in words. He forgot that humans were so soddin' blind that you had
to repeatedly bash them over the head with stuff.

Plus, Xander was carrying around all that 'unworthy' crap. It wouldn't
take much to make the boy think he'd been abandoned. <No, not much.
Just my fuckin' mysterious disappearance.> Spike felt his demonic
nature surfacing and he clamped down on it with effort. 

Not yet...Not yet. He had to bide his time, lull these bastards into a
sense
of false security. His baleful stare fell on the armed guard on the door.
Spike suppressed a sigh; course, it might take a little while.

He forced himself to watch dispassionately as one of the scientists
removed a small square of skin from his belly. The man cut it very
precisely with a scalpel, before peeling it back wetly. Spike stared at the
bloody square of flesh that was left exposed. His lip curled up and he
growled softly. The discomfort was secondary to the humiliation of lying
here while they carved him up like a flamin' joint. 

He amused himself with an image of how the man would look with his
innards draped across his chest.

Alright, thoughts of Xander weren't helpin'. 

So what if he'd probably lost his one chance to tell the brat how he felt
about him. Spike was used to dealing with disappointments, they were
as much a part of his existence now, as they had been when he was still
alive. Time to think of something else. 

When he got out of here he could track down the whelp, tie him up, and
quote poetry at him from one of Angel's bloody books. Humans seemed
to like that sort of thing. Though he wasn't sure how Xander would take
to it. Okay, so he'd read it to him until the boy begged him to stop, that
could work too. Until then, he had to fill his mind with something else.

Thoughts of what he'd eventually do to these guys, though entertaining, 
ultimately left him frustrated, and he wasn't about to give them the
satisfaction of seeing him vamp out. He was playing the role of 'Mr Very
Dull Corpse' until they pulled out their hair and stomped off in disgust.

So what did that leave. Dru ? - No.

Angel ? Thinking about his Sire wasn't exactly relaxing, but if he was
careful he could avoid too much unwanted turmoil. Unbidden, a
memory crept into his bored brain. The Oenan encounter; the first one.
When he had been forced to write a letter to his Sire, pleading for Angel
to come and rescue him. 

With picture-perfect vampiric recall, Spike replayed the events in his
head as they had enfolded.......

*************************************************

Angel had taken nearly three weeks to arrive. Spike hadn't know whether
to kiss his Sire or try and tear his throat out. 

For his part, Angel had seemed relaxed and smug as he'd teased the
younger vampire about his 'unfortunate situation'. Spike hadn't been in
any mood for pleasantries.

"Just tell 'em what's what and get me the bleedin' hell out of 'ere," the
vampire hissed.

"What's what ?" Angel echoed, his smooth brow wrinkled in mock
confusion.

"You know what I mean, so don't play dumb. Tell 'em you're shaggin' me
and you don't want to share."

Angel frowned and glanced at the Oenan who'd claimed Spike and was
waiting a few feet away. "I'm not sure. He seems awfully taken with you,
Spike. It would be a little harsh for me to trample all over his dreams."
There was barely disguised laughter in the vampire's voice.

Spike almost spat blood. "I don't care if he goes out and throws himself
off the nearest mountain and then gets eaten by pissin' beetles. *Get me
out of here.*"

Some of the amusement faded from Angel's eyes. "Watch your tone,
Spike. I came a long way to dig you out of something you only have
yourself to blame for. It wouldn't take much to make me turn around and
go home again."

Spike tried to look contrite. "Alright," he muttered sullenly. "I
'apologise'. Now can we get on with this ? In case you haven't noticed a
few of his mates are eyein' you up. You dither around much bloody
longer and we'll both wind up partnered to soddin' Oenans."

Angel frowned, but inwardly he acknowledged that his childe had a
point. He had noticed one or two interested looks cast his way and he
wasn't happy about the prospect of being an Oenan's mate for the next
few hundred years. He approached the Oenan who had laid claim to
Spike. "Mesk ishakaa gar a nutushkaa," he said calmly.

The Oenan shook his head. "Mesk a gar brir-issh."

"Pussh, fe-duula. Ramza edual nesska," Angel argued, waving his hand
toward the younger vampire. "Bella pudula nutushkaa."

A few of the Oenan's friends came over to join in and a fairly heated
exchange ensued. Spike remained where he was, but followed the
conversation carefully. It wasn't going well.

Finally, one of the Oenan's companions offered a possible solution. The
Oenan placed great store on a physical expression of a 'claiming'. If
Angel would be willing to show that the blond vampire was already
taken. They would happily surrender their own claim upon him.

A less than happy Angel, stalked back over to his childe. "Not one
word," he hissed.

Despite the gravity of the situation, Spike was amused. Angel differed
little from his soulless counterpart in this respect. Angelus had never
cared for public displays of a sexual nature. He preferred the intimacy of
a more private setting. Spike supposed he should be touched that his Sire
would swallow his distaste and boff him in public. He looked around
him at the amassing Oenans.....and it looked like it was going to be
*very* public.

Spike glared at them sourly. It was just his bloody luck that he took after
his Sire in preferring less showy displays of affection. He liked to play
to
a crowd, but not when he was being shagged by his Sire. Silently cursing
his black goddess for deserting him and landing him in this sorry
predicament, Spike followed Angel to the back of the cave.

A growing entourage of Oenan followed them.

There was a large, flat, bed-sized stone, situated near the back of the
cave. Someone had thoughtfully draped some furs across it. Angel stood
beside it, tugging of his boots with the terse, jolting movements of
someone in a truly foul temper. Spike sighed and went over to his Sire,
kneeling before him. Angel stopped what he was doing and looked
down.

With an action, he knew Angel would recognize and respond to, Spike
lay his face against the older vampire's boot and slowly licked his way
along the dusty leather, travelling from toe to top. He felt the quiver
that
shook his Sire's body. He had done this a thousand times before - but
then it had been for Angelus. He had never 'performed' this way for
Angel. Normally he wouldn't even have considered it. He only did so
now because he knew it would be easier for them both to get through
this, if they could fall into long held familiarity.

Their new relationship was just that - new. Too exposed and untried to
handle this kind of pressure. For now, better to call up the past and give
these Oenan a show they would talk about for generations to come.

Angel nodded and leaned back against the rock, steadying himself as
Spike removed his boots. The younger vampire removed the rest of his
Sire's clothing with the same care and attentiveness. Occasionally,
kissing and nuzzling a newly bared part - when his Sire gave him
permission to do so. 

Fully naked, Angel got up onto the rock and laid back amongst the furs.
His face shimmered as it shifted into its true vampriric visage. Golden
eyes stared, unblinking at the vampire who knelt waiting in the dirt.
"Strip," Angel ordered softly.

With fluid grace, Spike rose up and swiftly shed his clothes. Angelus
had never cared for slow teasing displays.

"Come here." Angel's sibilant whisper carried across the cavern. You
could have heard an ant walking across the sandy floor, as a hundred
Oenan held their breath expectantly.

Spike obediently came forward and lay down on the rock beside his Sire.
He lay upon his back, hands by his sides, unmoving, as Angel's golden-
eyed gaze studied him dispassionately. Spike suppressed a shiver and
struggled not to lose himself in the past. Angel must have seen it as the
older vampire's expression softened slightly.

"I'm here, Will. I won't hurt you," Angel whispered against his ear. 

Spike turned to answer him and found his lips captured in a kiss
guarantied to burn away the last of his doubts. Angelus had never kissed
him like this, with a bewildering mixture of intensity and gentleness.
Angel explored his mouth with a thoroughness that was almost
overwhelming. Spike surrendered to it willingly, his body arching up
toward his Sire's. His own vampiric nature surfaced and their fangs
clashed as the kiss quickly grew more heated.

He practically purred as Angel stroked his chest, tugging his nipples,
twisting them - drawing them into stiff little peaks. He rubbed them
against Angel, feeling the other vampire's nipples harden in response.
The Oenan audience was almost forgotten as they gave themselves to the
urges now driving their bodies. Spike wrapped his legs around his Sire
and thrust himself desperately against the older vampire.

Angel allowed it for a few frantic moments then pushed his childe back
onto the furs. "Turn over," he growled.

Spike quickly flipped onto his belly. He gave groan of sheer delight as
Angel's weight pressed down upon him. He could feel his Sire's hard
flesh nestling between his buttock cheeks. Spike began to growl and
whimper when Angel didn't move.

"Be still," came the order, low and hoarse.

Grinding his teeth in frustration, Spike forced himself to remain still. He
keened softly as Angel began to slowly rock against him. It was a
maddening torment, the gentle teasing motion rubbed his own aching
erection into the soft furs. He thumped his head against the rock as he
tried to stop himself pushing back.

He gave a moan of despair when Angel sat back. 

"Quiet."

Spike smothered an instinctive curse and fell silent. A tongue flickered
against his right buttock, he fought off a twitch. The tongue trailed
inward, brushing wetly against his crease. "Angel," he gasped. A slight
nip warned him to be quiet - the sharp fangs just breaking his skin.The
tongue continued its slow, leisurely path, pausing to probe lightly at the
entrance to his body. Spike twitched but didn't so much as whimper.
Blood trickled down his jaw as he gnawed his lips.

The tongue left and Angel leaned over him; a finger was held in front of
his mouth. "Suck it," Angel ordered.

Spike drew the digit into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it
eagerly, tasting his Sire. Angel pulled the finger back and Spike
reluctantly let it go. It moved to nudge its way between his buttocks;
there was little meandering as it simply forced its way past the tight ring
of muscle. Spike's eyes half-closed in ecstasy, pain and pleasure
spiralling out through his body.

He knew that with this, Angel was detouring a from the past - Angelus
had never bothered preparing him for a good, hard fucking. Blood and
screams had been an integral part of sex with his soulless Sire. Purring
happily, Spike rocked back and forth onto Angel's finger. This time the
older vampire didn't order him to be still or silent. 

A second finger joined the third - more pain, and then the intense
sensations that followed, rippling through him, creating an illusion of
heat in his cold, hard flesh. "Angel," he whispered, pleadingly.

The fingers withdrew and he was hauled up onto his hands and knees.
"Stay like that." A desperate command. Spike struggled to obey as his
arms trembled with the effort. There was hardly any pause and then
Angel's hard, cold length was pressing into him. Spike groaned and
lowered his head, panting as Angel forced his way inside.

The older vampire pushed in slowly, trying not to tear the silken channel
that slowly opened to him. Finally, he was flush against Spike's shaking
body. Gripping his childe's slender hips, Angel slowly pulled out again,
almost all the way, then slowly he pushed back in. Spike groaned again,
more loudly this time, a low animalistic sound. Angel began to pick up
the rhythm, pounding into the younger vampire's body with fast,
aggressive strokes.

Spike was struggling to maintain his hands and knees stance, as each
punishing thrust pushed him down toward the furs. Finally he collapsed
onto them, but he didn't lay there, instead he shoved backwards, driving
himself up onto Angel's lap. The air was filled with grunts and growls as
they thrust against one another. Angel's hand found his childe's rigid
member and he began to stroke it in tempo with his own pistoning hips.

Spike bared his fangs and let out a long eery howl as his seed spilled out
over his Sire's hand. Angel continued milking it until Spike pushed his
hand away. Then the older vampire threw his childe back down into the
furs and drove at him in a demonic frenzy; exploding with a muted howl
of completion as his seed gushed into Spike's trembling body.

Slowly, they separated, both more than a little stunned. 

Though that was nothing compared to their audience who stared with
wide red eyes. Then an Oenan near the back let out an excited whoop
and soon the cavern was filled with the cries of ecstatic Oenan. A few
paired of for a quick frenetic fuck. The rest simply jumped about yelling
and screaming. Even the Oenan who had claimed Spike looked
impressed. He wandered forward slowly.

"Dugassah me a tugand." The Oenan said, nodding his head. Then he
walked off.

The two vampires were finally left, more-or-less alone, to get dressed.
They did so quickly, avoiding looking at one another.

Spike broke the increasingly tense silence. "Don't suppose I can grab a
lift back to civilisation ?" 

Angel nodded.

Spike rooted through his pockets for a smoke. He lit it and took a long
hard drag. "You're not going to pout all the way back are you ?"

"Why ?" Angel snapped. "You want to wait for the next ride ?"

Spike shrugged. "No. I just mean, there's no reason to get all broody
about this."

"I'm not brooding," Angel ground out through gritted teeth. He was still
in his game face, unable to calm himself enough to let it go.

"Could have fooled me," Spike muttered, not quite quietly enough.
Angel spun around and grabbed him by the throat. "A-Angel, Oenans,
watching," Spike gasped out. Angel released him.

"Just shut up and get in the car, Spike."

"So," Spike called after his Sire's retreating back. "I guess this means
role playing is out ?" He smirked as Angel's shoulders stiffened and the
older vampire shook his head wearily before walking on. Spike put out
his cigarette and hurried to catch up with him. It was a long drive back
to L.A., maybe he could persuade Angel to 'let go a little'. Sex in a car
was awkward, but entertaining, especially if the car in question was still
moving.......

******************************************************

Spike came out of his merry jaunt down memory lane, to discover that
other parts of him were feeling equally joyful. He quickly worked on
decreasing his 'joy'. There was no way he wanted to be caught standing
to attention in front of these gits. The one with bad hair and a boil on
his
neck was a might too scalpel-happy for his liking.

Sighing, the vampire went back to counting tiles, as the scientists busied
themselves
inserting more needles under his skin.

Part Five  

The woods close to the college were eerily dark and silent. Pale
moonlight trickled through the twisted branches, but the silver beams
provided scarcely any illumination. Angel led the way, moving easily
through the tangled undergrowth; Doyle took the rearguard position.
Xander simply tried to avoid tripping over tree roots he could barely see. 

He felt terrifyingly loud beside the vampire and the half-demon, both of
whom seemed to walk without making a sound. Beneath his awkward
tread, every twig snapped and every leaf rustled. Each shaky breath tore
through the silence, and he was absolutely certain that every bloodthirsty
monster in Sunnydale must be able to hear the 'thump, thump, thump' of
his heart, as it pounded against his rib cage.

Xander tried to swallow, but his mouth had dried up. This evening's
events promised to take him way beyond his normal fear quota. The
prospect of battling a secret military organization and a bunch of crazed
scientists felt frighteningly 'real', compared to waging war on demons
and other supernatural nasties. That was all still part of a weird and
whacky netherworld; scary, but in a nightmarish - 'I can't believe this is
happening' - sort of way. Sure, it wigged him out sometimes....okay,
*most* of the time, but since his mind couldn't quite accept it, he
muddled through. 

This was totally different. Riley was real, his army buddies were real.
Bullets, and military prisons with communal showers, and huge 'friendly'
bunk mates called Moe, were a little too real. 

It was only the impetus of finally doing something constructive to rescue
Spike that carried him forward. Xander couldn't help but feel he'd failed
his lover. He should have known that Riley would remember the blond
vampire eventually; his pseudo soldier memories told him men like
Riley were trained to have perfect recall. The only surprising thing was
that it had taken him so long.

Xander had a sour taste in the back of his throat. He was to blame. If he
hadn't been such a coward about facing up to everyone, Spike would
never have been chained up at Giles' house. He made a promise to
himself that when they got Spike out of this, he and the vampire were
leaving Sunnydale for good. He wasn't sure where they'd go, but he
wasn't staying around to let his lover continue to play tag with Riley and
his friends.

After all, what was holding him here ? He hated his job, his family
regarded him as an annoying inconvenience - unless they wanted him to
do something for them. He barely spoke to Buffy or Willow any more.
He'd miss them, and he'd miss Giles, but Spike was too important to
lose. He loved the vampire - black heart and all. Xander didn't know if
this thing between them stood a chance of working out, however he was
finally ready to give it a try.

If it wasn't already too late.

He hoped the 'Xander Harris luck' wasn't running true to form. Just this
once couldn't everything to work out. Was it so much to ask ?

Angel stopped and Xander almost stumbled into the back of him. The
vampire waved at him to wait and then stepped out into a small clearing.
There was a door. Not a trap door, but a fairly normal looking upright
door, set into a slope. It had that dull, officious look that deterred
small
children and hopeful vagrants. That, and the fact there didn't appear to
be a door handle - or any way of opening it at all. 

Doyle came to stand beside him. After a moment, Angel beckoned them
both forward. The vampire studied the door closely, while Doyle kept
his gaze fixed on the woods. Xander watched Angel anxiously. "Can you
open it ?" he whispered. Some of his unease subsided when Angel
nodded.

"It's electro magnetically sealed," said the vampire, holding both his
hands - palms flat - just above the door. "I can feel the current."

"It's electrified ?" Xander asked, nevously moving back.

"No. Not the door. The lock." Angel swung his bag down off his
shoulder and began to rummage through it. "We need to interrupt the
signal," he explained softly.

"Won't they be able to detect that ?"

"Yes, but hopefully they'll just think it's a glitch. They'll probably send
someone to check it, but they won't find anything." Angel took a small
device out of his bag. He pressed a button on it and attached it to the
door. A tiny amber light came on."Doyle, get ready," he whispered.

"I'm with yer," Doyle replied quickly, moving closer.

The light went green and the door slid open with a slight hiss. Angel
snatched the device and grabbed his bag before darting inside; Xander
and Doyle followed close on his heels. The door slid shut a second later. 

They were stood in a small, lift-sized compartment. The walls were
metal, shiny and new looking. Subdued red lighting cast an eery glow. In
the far wall a series of metal rungs led upwards. Angel slung his bag
back over his shoulder and began to climb. Taking a deep breath to
steady his screaming nerves, Xander followed. His damp palms stuck
and slipped on the cool metal. 

There was an opening just before the top, leading into a narrow tunnel.
They left the ladder and crawled into it, making their way along on their
hands and knees. The unsettling red lights still lit their way, situated
every few feet down the tunnel.. At the end it forked into three - right,
left, and down. Angel stopped.

"What's up ?" Xander hissed, as the vampire came to a halt.

"I don't think we want to go down," Angel answered absently. The rungs
led to a trap door about twenty feet below.

"So ? Pick another route." Xander was anxious to keep moving. The
passageway was uncomfortably claustrophobic.

Angel went right.

Xander's palms grew increasingly clammy as he shuffled along; his
knees were starting to hurt and his neck ached as he kept his gaze fixed
on the vampire ahead. The silence was beginning to rattle his
overstretched nerves. He'd seen too many films where the 'hero' travelled
through tunnels like this, only to come face to face with torrents of water
or a raging fireball. What if they got stuck ? Would anybody ever find
them ? What if they weren't alone in here ? Clips of 'Alien' snuck into his
brain and he shivered. <Okay, *not* a good time to remember that>

The tunnel widened again at another junction; this time the choices were
straight on or a sharp right. There was also a metal grill to the left.
Angel
moved to the side of it and motioned the others to come forward.
Peering through the grill, Xander glimpsed a long white corridor; it
appeared to be empty. He watched, fascinated, as Angel shifted into his
vampiric guise and sniffed the air - like a predator trying to pick up the
scent. 

The vampire's face shimmered back into its smooth human planes.
"There's no one around down there," he said quietly. Taking hold of the
grill he effortlessly yanked it free of the wall. He held onto it as he
jumped down. Xander dropped down beside him, feeling suddenly very
exposed in the stark, white corridor. He pressed himself back against the
wall. The lights seemed too bright and he squinted.

Doyle landed noiselessly next to him and assisted Angel in replacing the
grill as best as they could manage. The half-demon didn't look too
happy. "This place has to be huge," he whispered. "How are we gonna
find him ?"

Xander looked expectantly at the vampire. He felt distinctly nervous
when Angel looked at him.

"Xander can find him," the vampire said calmly.

"W-what ? Me ?" Xander fought to keep his voice down. He'd expected
Angel to say that he could track down Spike, maybe using some kind of
Sire~childe thing.

Angel grabbed both his arms and shook him gently. "Listen to me,
Xander. I know you don't fully understand it yet, but you and Spike are
'mated'. In vampire terms, that means there is a kind of bond between
you; one you can sense if you really try. You just have to let go of your
humanity a little. This isn't human. This is preternatural."

Xander blinked helplessly.

"Magic if you prefer," Angel explained. "Think of it as a sixth sense."

"You mean like 'the Force is with me'," Xander joked uneasily.

Angel frowned but Doyle caught the reference. "Yeah, that's exactly it.
Like when Leia knew Luke was hanging off that aerial thing in the
Cloud City." 

Angel looked nonplused.

Xander fully sympathised with how lost Luke must have felt, dangling
out over nothingness. Angel was telling him there was some magical,
mystical link between him and Spike ? ! Okay, fine, but *he* couldn't
feel it. How was he supposed to tap into this thing ?

"Close your eyes," Angel told him gently. "Let your mind go blank. Don't
try to make it work. Let it happen on its own."

Unhappily, Xander shut his eyes. Angel's hands released him and he was
left feeling lost and alone without their anchoring touch. The corridor
lights were bright behind his tightly closed lids. Xander struggled to
clear his mind, but it was crammed full of jumbled thoughts and images.
He began to panic. He opened his eyes. "I can't...I can't," he said
desperately.

Angel's expression was calm, Doyle's was impassive. "You can," said the
vampire. "You have to. He *needs* you, Xander. He needs you to find
him, before it's too late."

<Oh gods.> Xander looked back and forth between the two, but he
understood. Only he could do this. He nodded tersely and closed his eyes
again. He clenched his hands into fists and tried to slow down his
breathing, <Calm, think calm. *No*. Don't think. Thinking is bad.
Nothing ... nothing .... nothing> Xander unfurled his fingers and let them
dangle loosely by his sides as he rocked gently on the balls of his feet. 

He concentrated on Spike. The scent of him - leather, smoke and sex -
deep and earthy. The sound of his laughter, rough and slightly mocking.
The taste of him <Oh gods, the *taste* of him....> Xander let Spike fill
his senses. His eyes shot open. "That way," he said stunned, pointing to
the left. He didn't know how he knew, he just did, and it was freaking
him out slightly.

Angel smiled at him. "Try to keep your focus," the vampire cautioned. 

Xander nodded mutely and the three of them moved off. The door at the
end was unlocked, they opened it carefully. It led onto another, identical
corridor. Angel glanced up at the security camera above his head. There
was another one above the door at the far end. Angel put his finger to his
lips and then pointed upward, drawing Doyle's and Xander's attention to
them. Indicating that they shouldn't talk in case the cameras also had
sound detectors.

Angel took a small half-sphere shaped object out of his bag. He showed
it to the other two, mimed throwing it, and used his free hand to
illustrate that they would have fifteen seconds once the device was
activated. He motioned for them to look away. After triggering the
device he slid it across the floor. Angel covered his eyes and counted to
three. In the mean time there was a brilliant flash, as an energy charge
temporarily cut out the cameras. On three he nudged Doyle and grabbed
Xander. They raced down the corridor; Angel snatched back his device
and they rushed through the other door.

They practically landed on top of a very startled man in a white coat
clutching a clip board. Angel instantly wrapped an arm around the man's
throat and put a hand over his mouth. There was a door immediately to
their right. "Is there any one in there ?" Angel asked. "Think carefully
how you answer. I can snap your neck in less than a second." 

"Mmm," said the man, shaking his head, eyes wide with terror.

Doyle tried the door. "Locked." He began to rifle through the man's
pockets. "I bet you have a key though, don't ya ?" Sure enough he found
the man's card key in a top pocket. He swiped it through the door lock
and the four of them hurried inside.

"I'm going to release you," said Angel quietly. "Make a wrong move and,
well, I don't think I need to tell you what will happen."

"Uhgm," said the man desperately.

Angel released him, spinning the man around so they were face to face.
"Where do you keep them ?" the vampire demanded. "The demons that
are brought down here. Where do you put them ?"

The man shook his head fearfully. "I...I... don't know what you mea-" He
was silenced as Angel's hand locked around his windpipe. Angel
watched him calmly as he fought to draw breath. When he began to turn
puce, Angel allowed him to suck in a little air - just a taste. Then he
tightened his grip again. The man's eyes began to bulge.

Doyle watched with a look of vague distaste. Though whether it was for
Angel's actions or the captured scientist, was hard to say. Xander's
expression was much easier to read as he stared at the squirming man
with undisguised loathing. This was one of the sick bastards that had
hurt Spike, Xander wanted to see him suffer. Though some small part of
him was a little unsettled by how much he was enjoying this.

After a few seconds, Angel allowed the man to resume breathing again.
"N-next....co-corridor," the man gasped in between breaths. "The p-pens
are...d-down..there."

Angel smiled. "See, that wasn't so hard. Was it ?" The man shook his
head warily. "Now unfortunately we didn't bring any rope with us," said
Angel apologetically. "And since that means I can't tie you up-" He
shrugged and hit the man once, knocking him cold. He dragged the
unconscious body into the corner and concealed it behind the desk.
Quickly, he removed the man's white-coat. 

Angel took one look at the size and held it out to Doyle and Xander.
"One of you put this on, and get that clip board." 

Doyle, like Angel wore a leather coat. Xander was only wearing a light
cotton jacket; he took the white-coat and slipped it over the top. Doyle
handed him the clip board. "Now what ?" Xander asked.

"Now you are Doctor-" Doyle leaned forward and straightened the name
tag "-Mosogovich." He winced. Didn't these mad scientist types ever
have normal names.

"Mosgob-what ?" Xander asked, trying to read the name tag upside
down. "I can't even pronounce it," he complained.

"Hopefully you won't need to. This is just in case we run into anyone
else. This place is probably full of faceless white-coated guys. It might
buy us a little time in a clinch," Angel explained.

Xander nodded glumly and fastened the last button on the coat. "Guess
this means I'm leader ?"

"We're right behind you, Xander," said Angel, opening the door and
checking the coast was clear.

"Not that comforting," Xander mumbled. "I only stop bullets in a
permanently fatal sense. Unlike some other guys around here."

Doyle heard him. The half demon raised his hands appeasingly."Hey,
don't look at me, man. I'm as bullet proof as you are."

"No one's going to get shot," Angel insisted. "Unless we draw attention
to ourselves by arguing about it."

Xander and Doyle both fell silent. The former reluctantly led the way,
holding his clipboard up in front of him like a shield. Fortunately, the
corridors all seemed deserted and there were no more cameras - at least
not that they could see. There were a handful of doors down both sides
of the corridor. Some had small glass windows. Xander peered into each
of them cautiously. 

He stopped dead, outside the third one.

"What ?" Doyle hissed, coming to stand beside him. Xander didn't
respond. 

Angel tried to see past the boy into the room. When he couldn't see
anything clearly, he gently moved Xander out of the way. He was
instantly worried by how easily he could move the unresponsive youth.
He touched Xander's cheek gently, the boy's skin was cold, brown eyes
fixed and glassy. Angel frowned, it was almost as though Xander was in
shock. 

"Angel, man. I think you should take a look at this," Doyle whispered
hoarsely. The Irishman's soft voice shook slightly. He was looking in
through the tiny window. The vampire forced himself to approach the
door. Doyle stepped aside to let him see. 

Angel's face instantly shimmered, his eyes yellow and furious. Fangs
bared, he growled low in the back of his throat. Seizing the handle he
tore the door open and rushed inside.

Part Six  

Nothing could have prepared Xander for what he saw as he looked
through the little square of glass. Not even the tortured images thrown
out by his imagination. 

Inside the room Spike sat naked, strapped into a chair. As Xander
watched, a man flicked a switch and the vampire screamed and writhed
as the electricity snaked through his body. The current was so powerful
that plumes of smoke rose up. Rivulets of blood flowed down the Spike's
chin as his fangs sliced into his lips.

Xander was frozen. Someone moved him away and his mind began to
trickle back to him. He blinked sharply, once twice, and shook his head;
trying to clear it. He heard an unmistakable growl to his right, and
watched as an enraged Angel wrenched the door open. As the vampire
rushed inside Xander pulled himself together and followed.

The ensuing carnage was brief but brutal. There were three scientists in
the room and a soldier standing beside the door. Angel ran past the
soldier and seized two of the scientists - slamming their heads together
with a resounding crack. He dropped their bodies to the ground and
turned to the third, who was now cowering in terror.

Meanwhile, the soldier was prevented from drawing his weapon when
Xander smashed him in the face with the clip board. Xander threw that
away and put in three good punches that took the soldier down to his
knees; whereupon Xander kicked him a couple of times. 

Doyle had followed Xander in. The half demon grabbed up a chair and 
as the soldier tried to rise he hit him with it. The soldier went down for
the count. Xander was still trying to clear the red mist from his vision
and he kicked the fallen man again, before rushing over to his lover.
Angel joined him - after throwing the third scientist across the room; the
man slid quietly down the wall and crumpled into a heap on the floor. 

The current had stopped flowing and Spike was slumped forward, his
chin lolling on his chest.

"Spike ? Spike ? Don't be dead. *Please* don't be dead," Xander
murmured feverishly, as he struggled to release his lover.

"I'm already dead you pillock," a low pain-filled voice muttered. Spike
raised his head slowly and met Xander's worried gaze. "Get me the fuck
out of this thing," the vampire hissed.

"Here," said Doyle, darting forward with a small control box. "Try this."

Spike eyed it dubiously. "If that fires this thing up again, you are *so
dead*, little man," he threatened.

Doyle just glared at him. "Go on," he urged Xander. "Try it."

Xander looked at Spike, who nodded, he pressed the button warily - the
metal cuffs around the vampire's arms and legs clicked open. Spike shot
up out of the chair and immediately fell forward. He was caught by three
pairs of hands and ended up cradled against Xander's chest, while Angel
looked on worriedly. 

Spike looked up at his Sire. "You took your bloody sweet time gettin'
here, again," he muttered. A cough racked his body and he spat blood. "I
need a drink." 

Angel hesitated, then he retrieved one of the fallen scientists. He lay him
on the floor beside the younger vampire.

"Angel, man-"

"He's dead," said Angel flatly. There was a trace of regret in his eyes;
which had resumed their usual dark hue.

Spike practically threw himself on top of the corpse, tearing open the
dead man's throat with his teeth. Doyle backed away as loud sucking
noises filled the room and spilled blood pooled out around their feet.
Xander watched the crimson tide creep across the tiles, but he made no
attempt to move, not even when his laces trailed in the viscous fluid. He
could smell it, rich and coppery. He shivered.

Spike drank his fill and sat back. He was still in full game face but as he
wiped his arm across his mouth, he shifted back into his human guise.
The vampire turned to face Xander; he stared at him for a brief moment
then grabbed him and kissed him fiercely. 

Xander went very, very still......and then kissed Spike back with equal
fervour. 

Angel looked quietly pleased. 

Doyle looked shocked. Okay, so he'd known. Knowing was one thing.
Seeing it was *quite* another. Spike and Xander - who'd have thought 
it ?

Spike broke the kiss reluctantly. He glanced over his shoulder at Angel.
"What's the plan for gettin' out of here then ?" He groaned when Angel
remained silent. "Oh, please. Not one of those 'make-it-up-as-we-go-
along' jobs. I hate them."

"They usually work don't they," said Angel coolly.

"No," said Spike sullenly. He stood up, wobbled slightly and was
steadied by Xander. "I don't suppose you brought me anything to wear
either ?"

"How was I supposed to know that you were going to be naked ?" Angel
asked exasperatedly.

"Guys, guy," said Xander. "I think soldier boy here would be quite happy
to part with his pants." 

Soldier boy in fact had very little say in the matter, as he was roughly
stripped of his boots and clothing. Spike tightened the belt several
notches to hold up the trousers. He jerked back when Xander tried to put
the cap on his head. "No bloody way," he said.

"Your hair needs covering up," Xander pointed out. "It's very
noticeable."

"There is nothing wrong with my hair," Spike muttered, snatching the
cap and putting it on. Doyle sniggered. "Oh, yes. Laugh it up. I'm going
to-" he started forward and was stopped by the immovable bulk of his
Sire. 

"-do nothing," Angel finished. "Unless it's to shut up and follow us. Or
would you rather stay here ?"

Spike muttered something unintelligible and stepped back. He draped
and arm around Xander's shoulders. Only Xander could feel the way the
vampire leaned into him. Spike was still weak, despite his mouthy
attitude.

"Right, let's go," said Angel. Doyle had been searching the room for
anything useful. He'd taken the soldier's pass and his firearms. The half-
demon kept the rifle and held out the hand-gun to Angel. The vampire
shook his head, "Best give it to Xander."

Xander took it, checked the safety was on, and tucked it carefully into
his waistband. After a moments thought, he undid a few buttons on the
white-coat, so that he could get to the gun in a hurry if needed. 

Silent and wary, the four exited the room. Angel led the way back along
the corridor, keeping a close watch on the others. Spike was walking
better, he noted. Clearly the effects of the punishing voltage were slowly
wearing off. Angel thought about what had just happened. The sight of
his childe suffering and in pain, had pushed him into a mindless fury. He
had slain two men, and the worst of it was, he couldn't bring himself to
regret taking their lives. 

These men were the true monsters; they tortured, killed and maimed in
the name of science not survival. How many creatures suffered here,
entombed within this maze of white corridors. Didn't these people
understand that some of the demons they captured were harmless ?
Some were scavengers. Others were plant eaters who would rather flee
than fight. Angel's mouth tightened. Oh, he bet they knew. They just
didn't care.

He stopped, he heard voices up ahead. 

"Angel ?" Xander whispered.

"Quiet," Spike hissed. "We're about to have company, get ready, pet."
Xander fumbled for the gun at his waist, as Spike pulled back his arm.
The vampire stood ready. There was nowhere to run. No door close by.
They could go back to the room they'd just left - but better to fight in
the
open than risk getting trapped in there.

The door they were making for swung open and a small group of
soldiers came through it. Xander recognized one of them instantly.
"Riley," he whispered softly.

The soldiers suddenly realised that they weren't alone in the corridor and
stopped dead. A heartbeat later they were reaching for their weapons.
"Don't," Xander called, taking aim with his hand-gun. Doyle moved to
stand beside him, pointing his rifle at the stunned soldiers.

"Xander ?" Riley sounded utterly bewildered. "Wha-?"

"Just step aside, Riley. All we want to do is leave," said Xander. He
swung his gun to bear on a soldier who'd taken a step forward. "I
wouldn't," Xander warned him. "I've really had a lousy day and it really
wouldn't take much to make me use this." His voice shook with anger
and a trace of hysteria. 

"Xander, just put the gun down. I don't know what you're doing but-"

"*What I'm doing is getting away from you murderous bastards*,"
Xander spat out the words, his eyes suspiciously bright as he fought to
keep control.

"Look, just step aside and no one gets hurt," said Angel quietly.

"We can't do that," said Riley.

"I only count two guns," said the soldier beside him. "You can't shoot us
all," he sneered.

"No," Xander agreed, "but I can shoot you." He pointed his gun at the
man who fell silent.

"Xan-" Riley broke off as the lights above their heads suddenly flickered
and dimmed. A second later the corridor was plunged into darkness. 

Spike gave a sharp yelp and sank to the floor clutching his head. Angel
dropped down next to him, crouching anxiously by his childe. "Will ?"
he whispered urgently. 

Xander couldn't see anything but he heard his lover's cry of pain and
turned toward it. He walked forward blindly and almost fell over the two
vampires. He immediately ducked down next to them. His hands located
Spike and he felt the spasms wracking his lover's slender frame."Spike,
what's wrong ?"

The vampire gave no sign he'd even heard.

Riley and his men were waiting for the emergency lighting to kick in - it
didn't. One of them grew impatient and decided to chance his luck. He
stepped forward; there was the soft 'snick' of a gun being readied.

"That's close enough," a soft Irish voice said coldly. "I would stay right
there if I were you. I'm willing to lay odds that my night vision is better
than yours."

The soldier froze, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling with the
knowledge that somehow he had been seen in the pitch blackness.

Doyle glanced back anxiously at the others. Spike was on his hands and
knees, clutching his head and keening softly. Xander's expression was
distraught as he stroked his lover's back and tried to see what was
happening through the impenetrable darkness. Angel knelt beside them;
as Doyle watched the vampire covered Xander's hand with his own.

Suddenly Spike stiffened, and slowly raised his head. His eyes glowed,
twin fiery orbs, the pupils merest pin-pricks. He hissed, low and angry.

Doyle shivered. "Angel, we need to move." He looked back at the
soldiers. They stood, trapped by the darkness, but tense and ready to
fight.

"Spike, Spike," Xander urged softly. "Spike, please. What's wrong ?" He
was almost knocked aside as the vampire sprang to his feet.

In full game face, Spike glared at the soldiers. He stalked forward
purposefully, but had only moved a handful of steps when Angel's hand
caught and held him. He looked back at his Sire. "This ain't no bloody
power cut," he explained, his voice low and deadly. "Someone's been
messing around with the mojo."

"A spell ?" Angel frowned, then his eyes widened. "Your implant-"

"-is out of action. William the Bloody is back," Spike crowed. He turned
back to face the soldiers and lowered his voice to a sibilant hiss."Time to
spill a little blood, children." He shrugged free of Angel's hand. "Or a
lot. Depending on how much you bastards have in you." The soldiers
tensed even more as they absorbed the meaning of the vampire's words.

"Will, wait," said Angel.

Spike spun round to face him, snarling. "You have got to be jokin' !
These bastards did for me. I'm gonna wrap their fuckin' entrails round
their throats !"

Angel shot forward in a blur, interposing himself between Spike and the
soldiers. He shed his human guise as he did so; facing off against his
childe. "Will, think. Someone's working something here and we're
caught right in the middle of it. Now until we know what's going on,
they're more useful to us alive."

Spike didn't look convinced.

Xander was following the conversation closely. "Spike," he whispered.
"Listen to him. There's something very weird going down here." He had
been stunned by the revelation that his lover was no longer crippled by
the Initiative device. However, as much as he shared Spike's sentiments,
he agreed with Angel that they were better off keeping Riley and his
goon squad alive until they knew what was happening.

There was a very tense pause, and then Spike gave a growl of disgust
and stood down.

Angel relaxed and shifted back into his human guise to face the soldiers.
"Riley ?"

"Yes." The young man's voice was calm and clear, despite the edge of
uncertainty beneath it.

"What do you say to calling a temporary truce, while we find out who's
behind this ?" Angel offered. 

Another soldier answered him. "You've got to be kiddin'. We don't do
deals with freaks."

Spike growled. Angel waved him quiet. "Well, perhaps you'd like a
minute to reconsider that policy." The vampire's voice was tight with
barely restrained anger. "Because whoever is doing this has power and
you can be certain that whatever they're planning it's not friendly."

"What d'ya think ?" Doyle interjected. "A break out ?"

"Probably."

"Impossible," said Riley "Even if the power is down, the system-"

"-is useless," said Doyle. "Listen to Angel, man. He's tellin' yer the
truth.
Whoever is doing this has a gift with the spell castin'. You don't knock
out places like this with out some kinda know-how."

"Spell casting ?" Riley sounded confused. "This is a power black out," he
insisted.

"And the reason why your back up generator isn't workin' is because ?"
said Doyle pointedly.

Riley didn't answer him immediately. "There's probably a fault," he
admitted finally. "We'll have a team working on it."

"Your 'team-mates'," said Spike nastily, "are probably already dead."

"Where are your closest emergency supplies, torches, weapons ?" asked
Angel. They'd already spent too long standing around, it was time to get
moving.

Riley wasn't happy about making a truce, he also knew that he and his
men were helpless while they were in total darkness. He was struggling
to come to a decision when a long howl echoed down the corridor.
Everyone stiffened; those who couldn't see stared, panicked, into the
surrounding blackness. 

Xander inched closer to Spike. He looked into the vampire's golden
eyes; the only part of his lover he could see. "What was that ?" he
whispered.

Another eery howl rang out.

"Angel ?" Doyle sounded decidedly unhappy.

Both vampires were listening intently. After the second howl they
looked at one another and nodded.

"Time to move children," said Spike, grabbing Xander and walking him
forward.

"W-what ?" said Riley, as the vampire shoved him out of the way.

Angel explained briskly."It's a Locksaw demon, and it's hunting."

"No guesses who," Doyle muttered.

There was another howl, closer this time. Angel stepped up to Riley,
putting his face close to the young man's. "Listen, times up. If you want
to live, come with us. That thing is going to be on top of us any minute.
Believe me when I say that you don't want to be here when it arrives."

Riley was trying to recall anything he knew about a 'Locksaw demon' -
he was drawing a blank. He did know that whatever it was they didn't
stand a chance against it fighting blind. "Okay," he agreed reluctantly.

"Riley !" His companion sounded outraged.

"Stand down, soldier." Riley barked. He wasn't happy about this either,
but better a deal with the devil than a ticket to hell. "Men, we're moving
back to storage room 34a."

"Where is it ?" Angel asked.

"At the end of the corridor, turn left. It's the second door." Riley
sounded
less than pleased to be handing out the information. He jumped a little
when someone took hold of his arm. He could feel the chill of their
fingers seeping through his shirt. He shivered.

"Join hands," Angel instructed.

"What ?" One of the other soldiers asked.

Riley caught his meaning. "Do as he says," he ordered.

The soldiers fumbled around in the darkness, awkwardly catching hold
of sleeves and hands. Angel maintained his grip on Riley. "Spike, take
point. Doyle ?"

"I've got our backs," said the half-demon, waving his rifle meaningfully.

"Stay close," said Angel softly. Doyle nodded. "Okay, lets go."

Spike led the way, steering Xander with an arm around the boy's waist.
Angel followed with a trail of soldiers stumbling in his wake. Doyle
brought up the rear, walking backwards, with his rifle pointing down the
corridor. The howl sounded out again, this time it was joined by a
second similar cry. Spike found the storage room door - it was locked.
He forced the handle and pulled Xander inside. The others followed.
Doyle closed the door behind them and sagged against it.

The howls drew closer.

Part Seven  

Space inside the storage room was in short supply and the unhappy
occupants were forced to cram together. Spike's glowing eyes secured
him a little extra room and he drew Xander with him into a corner. After
some jostling and shuffling the soldiers managed to group themselves
together in the opposite corner.

Doyle and Angel searched the shelving. The vampire wasn't overly
surprised to discover that none of the torches worked. "Riley, do you
have anything beside electric torches ?"

The young man turned blindly toward the sound of Angel's voice; he
frowned, "Yes, we have phosporus-"

"-got 'em," Doyle interrupted. He handed the vampire a slender
cylindrical tube. 

Angel operated it and the chemicals inside began to glow - giving off a
bright, greenish-tinged luminescence. He activated several others and
handed them out amongst the soldiers; Spike snatched one for Xander,
who accepted it gratefully.

The illumination revealed tense, angry faces. Riley tried to take back a
small measure of control. "Okay," he said, facing Angel. "Since you
seem to know what's going on here would you care to provide the rest of
us with some answers ?"

Angel regarded him calmly. "I don't have any," the vampire admitted
bluntly. "All I can tell you that this type of power manipulation takes a
far amount of skill. Whoever's doing this has apparently taken out every
live electrical device *and* all your back-up systems. We're not talking
ordinary spell-casting here."

Riley picked on the one word that gave him trouble. "Excuse me, 'spell-
casting' ? You're trying to tell me that this was done by *magic*." There
was no mistaking the disbelief in his tone.

"Magic, mojo, the mystical arts," said Spike. He sneered at the young
man. "You've been playing around with the wrong crowd, soldier boy.
You should'ave stuck to your own kind."

"Our job is to take out animals like you !" one of the soldiers declared
hotly. Dark haired and square jawed he made the mistake of stepping too
close to the vampire; Spike simply grabbed him by the throat and lifted
him off the ground. The young man dangled helplessly as Spike's other
hand closed over his face. 

Spike grinned fiercely. "You have no idea how *good* this feels. I think
I might peel your face off," he shrugged, "just for fun like." Between his
fingers the soldier's blue eyes widened.

"KARL !" A tall, wiry-haired man threw himself at the vampire;
struggling ineffectually to pull Spike away from his friend. Xander
instantly moved to drag the soldier off his lover.

"Enough," Angel snapped. "Spike, let him go." When the younger
vampire didn't comply immediately, Angel growled at him. "Will, put
him down *now*."

Spike dropped the soldier and shoved him away. At the same time
Xander and his combatant stopped struggling and separated warily.
Spike placed himself between his lover and the angry soldiers; then he
turned to Angel. "Last time," he warned his Sire in a low voice." The
next one's dead."

Angel was careful not to show it, but he was surprised by his childe's
restraint. He had fully expected to have to use force to drag Spike off the
unfortunate soldier. Nevertheless, he was also aware that he couldn't rely
upon his status as Spike's Sire to secure the men's safety for much
longer. For once Spike was 'justifiably' homicidal. Angel knew he
needed to give the younger vampire an outlet for his violent urges,
before Spike started breaking necks.

"Why don't you use your talents for something useful," he snapped back.
"We have a couple of Locksaw demons to take out, remember." Angel
waited for the stinging retort, or at the very least an exclamation of
disgust. 

He got neither - Spike's golden eyes gleamed with anticipation.

"You're not gonna try and tackle those things out there ?" Doyle asked
worriedly.

"It's better that we find them first," said Angel; implying that the
Locksaw would find them soon enough.

"I hope you have a bleedin' plan this time," Spike muttered.

Angel shrugged. "Not really. I just thought we might do a little hunting
of our own."

Spike's expression brightened. "As plans go, that's one of your better
offerings."

Angel ignored the insult. "Doyle, Xander, the rest of you - stay in here
until we come back," he said, moving toward the door.

"Now wait a minute-"

Angel cut Riley off mid-protest. "You want to go out there, fine, but just
so you know, strength-wise you are *no* match for these things. Your
'specialised weapons' are out of action and any other type of gun will just
annoy them. They'll tear through your troop in less than a minute." 

Riley was silent. His expression said he was ticked-off, even if common
sense told him Angel was right. 

The vampire turned away to address Doyle and Xander. "Try and jam
the door with something after were gone." 

Doyle nodded reluctantly. 

Xander looked panicked. He grabbed Spike's arm as the blond made to
go. "What are these Locksaw things like ?" 

Spike pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Picture a big pissed off dog with
scales. Oh, and a few more teeth."

Xander wasn't taken in by Spike's cavalier attitude. He maintained 
an anxious grip on the vampire's arm. "How will you kill them ?" he
demanded.

"They're blood and bones, pet. They'll break and bleed." Spike sounded
quite cheerful about the prospect.

Xander didn't look any happier. "Just make sure *they* do all the
breaking and bleeding," he told the vampire softly.

Spike regarded his lover silently. The boy's dark eyes were filled with
worry. Impulsively he stroked his fingers along Xander's cheek; then he
turned to go. He was startled when Xander didn't release him, instead
trying to draw him back; however he went willingly. Soft, warm lips
touched his briefly - one of the soldiers muttered something - Spike
tensed, but forgot about him as Xander's mouth brushed along his cheek.

"Come back quick," Xander whispered.

Stunned, Spike simply nodded and followed Angel out into the corridor.
An unhappy Doyle and Xander watched them leave.

***********************************************

Outside in the corridor, Spike touched his mouth with something close
to wonder. He'd avoided kissing the whelp in front of the others in case
it made things awkward. Army types didn't tend to take too well to that
kind of thing. Spike couldn't have cared less what they thought, but
much to his annoyance he realised that he didn't want to make trouble
for Xander. He'd certainly never expected the whelp to initiate a kiss.
Spike grinned, yep, his Xan-pet was full of surprises. That was good, he
didn't like to be bored.

Still grinning smugly, he turned his attention back to the matter in hand.
He had a demon to track....and tear apart. There would be time to fuck
Xander senseless later. He thought about his 'restored abilities' and his
expression turned sly.

"Spike, snap out of it. These are Locksaws; I don't care to be losing
valuable parts of my anatomy because you're busy fantasying about
getting your end away."

"I'm no-" Spike broke off mid protest. "Fuck," he growled out irritably.
His Sire knew him too well. A howl rang out, a second echoed shortly
after. "They've split up," he said needlessly.

Angel nodded. The older vampire had shed his human guise and his eyes
glowed as he listened. The long howls rang out again. The Locksaw
demons had separated but were keeping in contact through their cries as
they prowled through the corridors. 

However, they were no longer the only predators on the hunt. 

"What d'you think ?" said Spike. "One on one. Or do we go after 'em
together ?"

"Best stick together," Angel cautioned.

"What's the matter 'Oh fearless leader'. Scared of a little Locksaw ?"
Spike taunted. His yellow eyes glittered with amusement.

"As I remember, the last time we fought a Locksaw, it wasn't me who
high-tailed it up a tree like his ass was on fire," said Angel dryly.

Spike frowned. "He was a bloody big bugger. Besides I was pretty new
to all this stuff then," he defended.

Angel reached out and stroked his childe's hair. "I know, and you did
well." He smiled, "Once I'd coaxed you out of that tree."

"Coax ?" Spike sputtered. "Oh yeah, what was it - 'Get down out of there
you pissant before I turn you inside out and feed this bloody thing your
innards'."

"It worked didn't it," said Angel. The older vampire's gaze turned
serious. "I mean it, Will. There's no one I'd rather have at my back."

Spike was momentarily speechless. It didn't last long. He couldn't help
from asking, "Not even her ?" 

Angel's fingers tightened in his hair. 

"I believe I said no one," the older vampire said quietly. His voice was
laden with sadness, but it carried a lethal undertone - one which quite
clearly said Buffy was not a topic for discussion.

Despising his own insecure neediness, Spike was more than happy to let
the matter drop. "Right then, lets go and find these buggers." He grinned
cockily at his Sire. 

The old vampire shook his head and looked fondly at his childe. "Just
remember," Angel warned, "there are no trees down here."

Spike caught the undercurrent of laughter in that deadpan voice. "Oh
please, I'm wettin' meself." He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets
and stalked off. 

Angel called after him. "Wait. We hunt together, remember." When
Spike stopped and turned, he held out a knife to his childe.

Spike paused, staring at the blade. He took his hands out of his pocket
and accepted it with a terse nod. Truth be told he was only too happy to
be hunting with the older vampire again. It had been too many years
since they had last run together. In the past they would have carefully
chosen their quarry, stalking it - sometimes over days or weeks - before
finally making the kill. Human or demon, back then it hadn't mattered.
Now, of course, it did - at least to his ensouled Sire. 

The one thing that hadn't changed was how well they operated together.
Even for vampires, even for one who shared the bond of Sire and childe;
theirs was a incomparable closeness. They moved along the corridors
without need for word or gesture, perfectly attuned to one another. 

Angel stopped and raised his head; he'd caught scent of their prey.
Almost simultaneously Spike came to a halt, tensing as he picked up the
Locksaw's scent. They turned to one another; a silent message was
exchanged through unblinking golden eyes. 

The vampires moved forward as one, fangs bared, their tread noiseless -
ready to take down their prey.

*****************************************************

Inside the storage room the atmosphere was turning decidedly ugly.
Riley and his men were getting rattled. All their training told them that
they should be out there, taking out the enemy and securing the base -
not hiding in the closet waiting to be saved by 'Hostile 17'. The soldiers
began badgering Riley, trying to persuade him to take action. Eventually
he submitted to their urging.

"Alright," he snapped. "Jensen, what do we have ?"

"Side arms and two M16's, Sir." Jensen reported smartly. 

"Okay, and the laser rifles, Martinez ?"

The soldier examining one shook his head. "He was right, Sir. The
power cut appears to have effected all our energy weapons."

"Then regular guns will have to surface," said Riley. "How are we for
ammo ?"

Martinez picked up three small boxes. "This is all there is in here, Sir."

"There should be some in 33a," another soldier offered.

Riley nodded. "Good, then we'll head that way. Okay, this is the
situation. We have been infiltrated by an unknown hostile force. We
have no information regarding their identity, numbers or weapons
capabilities. Our main priorities are to ensure the safety of all base
personnel; make sure all captive hostiles are still secured and take back
our base. Understood ?"

They came back with a quick,"Yes, Sir."

"Are you all crazy ?" a soft Irish voice enquired. "Didn't you hear
anything that Angel said. There are at least two huge, blood-crazed,
demon dogs out there. All those pop-guns will do is piss them off....right
before they eat you."

"Feel free to stay in the closet, faggot," said Martinez viciously.

Doyle stiffened but it was Xander who spoke. "You want to die - fine 
by me. I always thought you idiots were more 'gung-ho' than army
intelligence. Oh and just for your information, I'm the one fucking
another guy, not him." He stared hard at Martinez. "Don't let the door hit
your ass on the way out."

Doyle looked impressed by the outburst and his mouth twitched.
Martinez looked incensed and he made a dive for Xander. 

Riley pulled him back. "Stand down, soldier." He glanced briefly at
Doyle and Xander before turning away toward the door. "Men, move
out," he ordered. Clutching the phosphorus lamps, hand-guns, and rifles,
the soldiers filed out; Riley exited last, closing the door behind him.

As it shut with a soft click, Doyle let out a deep breath and shook his
head. "Those guys have got their heads so far up their asses they won't
see a Locksaw until they're drinking its digestive juices." 

Xander didn't say anything. He was staring at the door, his hands
clenched into bloodless fists. 

"Xander ?" Doyle shook the young man's shoulder gently when he still
didn't respond. "You okay, man ?"

Xander abruptly snapped out of his daze. "We have to warn them."

"What ?" Doyle frowned. "Hey, we tried. You heard them, they aren't
listening-"

"Not them," said Xander quickly, "Spike and Angel." He looked at the
half-demon, his gaze desperate. "Riley and his goons are out for blood.
Do you really think they'll see any difference between a vampire and a
Locksaw."

Doyle's grim expression said he understood what Xander was driving at.
To the soldiers, Spike was a 'Hostile' and Angel was an intruder. That
made them viable targets. "So what do we do ? I mean, no offence, but
you're not exactly nimble in the dark and these guns are no defence
against pissed off demon dogs."

"We're not taking on the Locksaws. We just need to find Spike and
Angel."

"Who are hunting the Locksaws," Doyle pointed out.

"So ?" said Xander, exasperated. "You just want to stay in here and let
them take their chances with the goon squad ?"

Doyle sighed. "Lets go," he swung his rifle down from his shoulder.
"Stay close to me, okay." He muttered something about Spike tearing
him a new one if anything happened to Xander.

Xander grabbed Angel's bag and examined his lamp to check it was still
operating at maximum brightness.

"You know, that thing's gonna be a like a beacon out there," Doyle
warned him.

"Sorry, I seem to have left my super powers in my other pocket," said
Xander dryly. He'd rather risk the chance of being seen with the lamp
than stumble around blindly without it. Of course, there were
undoubtedly disadvantages to seeing the demon that was about to devour
you. Putting a choke hold on his fear he followed Doyle back out into
the corridor.


Part Eight

The lamps green light seemed woefully inadequate outside the confines
of the storage room. Xander couldn't make out anything more than a few
feet ahead and he envied Doyle's ability to see through the darkness. The
half-demon led the way down the corridor. It was eerily silent until a
lonely howl rang out around them.

"That was a long way off, right ?" Xander hissed. "I mean it didn't sound
close to me. Did it sound close to you ?" He held his lamp up and peered
anxiously around him.

Doyle's pale face looked worried. "It sounded close enough. Let's hurry
up and find Angel."

They stepped up the pace, moving swiftly down one corridor and onto
the next. Another cry rang out. It was impossible to tell what direction it
came from. Xander didn't know if they were leaving it behind or heading
toward it - a distinctly unsettling thought. His stomach growled loudly
and he flushed. "Sorry," he whispered. 

Doyle just shook his head. "This is hopeless, they could be anywhere."
Then the half-demon stopped. "You'll have to do that thing again."

"Thing ?"

"You know, close you eyes and sense him."

Xander felt panic tighten his insides. "I...I don't think I can."

"Well you'd better try. Cos we ain't findin' 'em this way," said Doyle.

Xander reluctantly closed his eyes. Angel was right, he could *feel*
Spike. It was a cold crawly sensation under his skin. He didn't know
what it meant and most of him was afraid to find out. Why hadn't Spike
ever talked about it ? *'Mated'* - what did Angel mean by 'mated' ? The
demon in the bar had referred to him as Spike's consort, Spike hadn't
corrected it. Was that what all this was about.

He was beginning to hyper-ventilate. It wasn't helping.

"Hey, calm down. Take it easy," Doyle's soft voice soothed him, as did
the feel of warm fingers resting over his own. "Just take slow, deep
breaths. That's right. Slow and deep. Now think of Spike. Try and feel
out where he is."

Xander let himself be lulled by that musical voice and the cold, crawly
sensation became a definite tingle. He opened his eyes. "This way," he
said flatly, and walked off. Doyle hurried after him.

************************************************

The two vampire's were also experiencing 'tingling' sensations, but theirs
stemmed from a very different source - the thrill of the hunt. They had
cornered one of the Locksaw demons in a training room (after it had torn
down the door). Now it eyed them angrily from across the room. 

Locksaw weren't stupid creatures, but theirs was an animal cunning as
opposed to reasoning intelligence. It could smell that they weren't
human and as such it upgraded their threat potential; although the look
in its amber-red eyes suggested it didn't view them as much of a danger.

Spike stepped closer and its tail thrashed - the scales made a rattling
noise. The vampire froze, growling low in the back of his throat. As the
Locksaw resumed pacing, Angel moved. Unlike Spike he didn't stop
when the demon waved its tail, instead he sprang forward, landing on its
back. The Locksaw reared up trying to throw off its mount, and Spike
swiftly joined the attack, sinking knife and fangs into the demon's
vulnerable underbelly. He sank his fingers between the scales for
purchase and clung on desperately.

A Locksaw's chief weapons were its amazingly powerful jaws and huge
razor sharp teeth. The claws on its four feet were relatively short, though
Spike did his best to avoid being gouged by them. It tried to shake the
vampire free in order to stamp on him. Angel grabbed the creatures head
and wrapped his arms around its snout - trying to hold its jaws closed
and away from his childe. 

The only truly vulnerable parts of a Locksaw were its eyes and
underbelly - since they were the only parts not covered with
impenetrable scales. It bucked and thrashed madly as Spike sliced into
its body. The vampire raked at it with his knife while he bit down as
hard as he could, tearing out chunks of flesh with his teeth. The
Locksaw's foul tasting blood filled his mouth and he spat it away. Its
howls had changed to angry bellows. 

"Hurry up," Angel hissed. The older vampire's arms were being
wrenched from his sockets as the Locksaw swung its head back and
forth trying to free itself.

Spike heard the pain in his Sire's voice and jabbed the knife deep into
the Locksaw's belly, pushing it in with such force that the whole knife
and much of his hand sank into the slit. The creatures bellow became a
gurgling cry as blood bubbled up into its throat. It threw itself around
madly and finally succeeded in throwing Spike off. The vampire quickly
rolled away from the Locksaw's feet as the enraged beast tried to stamp
him into the floor. 

Angel leapt clear and the two vampires drew off to a safe distance as the
Locksaw went through its final death throes. Eventually, the creature
sank to the ground, its death rattle signalling its end was imminent. Sure
enough, the Locksaw's amber eyes rolled back into its head, and with
one last violent shudder the beast lay still.

Angel winced as he straightened up; his mouth curled into a smile as he
looked at his childe. Spike was spattered in sticky yellow blood, it oozed
stickily down his arms and as he wiped his forehead he left a bright
smear of it across his already well-coated face. He looked as though he'd
been dipped in egg yoke.

"What ?" he asked.

"Remind me to make you take a shower before I let you in the car," said
Angel smirking.

"Eh ?" Spike looked down at himself. "Oh bloody hell," he moaned. He
glowered at his Sire. "Next time I'm on top." Angel's smirk broadened
and waggled his eyebrows. Spike realised what he'd said. "I think I
preferred you without a sense of humour," he muttered sullenly.

"Come on," said Angel. "We still have one more to find."

Spike trailed after his Sire. He picked his cap up off the floor and used
it
to wipe some of the sticky guck of his skin. He sniffed and his lip curled
up in disgust. "Fuck it stinks."

"Then hurry up," Angel called back to him. "The sooner we get out of
here the sooner you can wash all that muck off you." Spike pulled a face
and wandered after the older vampire, still trying to wipe off the
Locksaw's foul smelling blood.

******************************************************

Doyle and Xander were still inching their way along the corridor. They
turned a corner and froze. Less than twenty feet away, at the other end of
the corridor, a pair of orange eyes the size of car headlamps blinked.
Neither man moved so much as a hair. For a timeless moment, seconds
spun past them uselessly. Then the eyes moved. Black pupils narrowed
into reptilian slits and the amber orbs grew steadily larger as the beast
slowly stalked toward them.

"Oh, shit," Doyle swore softly.

"W-what do we do ?"

"Back up, *very* slowly," Doyle whispered.

They began to retrace their footsteps back around the corner. They'd
barely gone two paces when the creature gave an angry roar and charged
toward them.

"*Down !*" Doyle yelled.

Xander threw himself to the floor. The air above his head seemed to
ripple as the Locksaw sailed over them. He didn't have time to take a
breath, Doyle was already dragging him to his feet. 

"*Run, run*," the half demon urged frantically.

Xander willed his legs to obey him as he scrambled up and tore down
the corridor. He'd dropped his gun when he'd dived, but he still clutched
his phosphorus lamp. He held it like a relay baton as he charged down
the corridor, legs and arms pumping madly.

The Locksaw demon was momentarily confused at having missed its
targets on the initial strike. Hampered by the size of the corridor it took
another moment or two to turn its bulk around, before setting off in
pursuit of its prey.

Xander didn't realise straight away that Doyle wasn't with him.
Somehow they had become separated in the darkness. Once he did his
terror escalated into near mindless panic. At first he ran on, unsure what
else to do, but gradually he slowed and stopped - looking behind him
fearfully.

"Doyle ?" he croaked.

Behind him the dark corridor was silent. Xander took a hesitant step.
"Doyle ?" he whispered loudly. A burst of automatic gunfire made him
jump violently. It was followed by a blood curdling scream that turned
his insides to ice. "No," he protested desperately. "Doyle." He stumbled
forward. A low growl stopped him in his tracks.

There was the skittering sound of claws moving across the tiled floor. A
false calmness stole over Xander as he faced the beast before him. He
knew that he couldn't out run it and there was nowhere to hide. Shaking,
he closed his eyes and waited for the end.


Chapter XII

When the silence stretched out beyond a handful of seconds, Xander
forced one eyelid open a crack. Both eyes suddenly widened with terror
as the Locksaw gave a loud growl and charged toward him. The lamp 
clutched convulsively in trembling fingers revealed row upon row of
shark-like teeth. Strings of saliva trailed from its open jaws. Xander
closed his eyes again quickly. He felt the creatures foul, hot breath upon
his face and he waited for the fatal strike.

It didn't come.

Instead there was a strange 'surprised' cry and a different angry growl.
Followed by what sounded like two cats fighting.

Xander prised his eyes open and stared. Spike had the Locksaw by its
tail and was fighting to stay clear of its snapping jaws. The enraged
beast twisted and turned as it tried to reach its tormentor. Both demons
hissed and growled as they fought.

There was a flash of metal and a blade plunged downward. It pierced the
Locksaw's eye as it swung its mighty head toward Spike. The beast
emitted a pain-filled shriek and lashed out with its back legs. They
caught Spike in the chest and sent the vampire flying back into the wall.

"Spike !" Xander cried. Without thinking he shot forward and as the
beast lunged for him he hit it with the only thing he had to hand - his
lamp. The casing broke and phosphorus poured over the creatures head.
Some of it trickled into its injured eye and its shrieks grew louder. It
snapped its jaws and thrashed its head sideways, knocking Xander off
his feet. The Locksaw lowered its salivating jaws toward him as he tried
to scrabble clear.

It never reached him as Spike picked himself up, shook himself
vigorously and then charged the beast. Spitting, snarling, clawing - all
Xander could see were two pairs of glowing eyes and the smears of
phosphorus. The corridor itself seemed to shake and tremble as the two
demons battled. Suddenly there was another angry growl and Xander
realised that Angel had joined the fray.

Moments later, the beast sank, broken and bloodied to the floor. While
two worn and weary vampires dragged themselves away from its
battered corpse. 

Xander breathed a heavy sigh of relief - seeing the creatures eyes dim
and two pairs of very welcome golden eyes come toward him. The
breath had barely left his lungs when he was pushed back against the
floor and a hard, lean body pressed down onto him. Cold lips crushed his
and he murmured as Spike stole the last of his breath in a bruising kiss.
He was gasping when the vampire released him.

Stunned, Xander blinked, staring up into furious yellow eyes.

"What the *fuck* do you think you are doing ?" Spike hissed.

Xander couldn't speak.

"Let him up, Spike," said Angel.

With a snort of anger, Spike stood up and dragged Xander
unceremoniously to his feet. Still in shock from his near brush with
death, Xander swayed and clung to his lover. Immediately, Spike's arms
closed around him and Xander found himself crushed against the
vampire's chest.

"Bloody idiot," Spike growled. "Could'ave got yourself killed."

Xander sank gratefully into the vampire's near smothering embrace. He
felt so tired all of a sudden. Angel's soft voice stopped his eyes from
closing.

"Xander, where's Doyle ?"

"Wha-?" he mumbled dazedly.

"Doyle. Where is he ?" Panic underscored Angel's normally measured
tones and Xander stiffened, pulling away from his lover slightly.

"Oh god, Angel.....I." He swallowed hard. "We...we got separated, when
it came after us. I couldn't see him. There....there was this scream..."
His
voice trailed off. Angel's yellow-gold eyes stared at him, unblinking.

"A scream...?" The vampire echoed softly.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," said Xander, tears clogged his throat. "It's all
my fault. I...I wanted to warn you. Riley....Riley and the others they
went. I thought...I..." His voice broke off and he bit his lip to hold back
a
sob.

Spike's arms tightened around him. "Easy, pet. No one's blamin' any one.
Now what's this about soldier boy ?"

Xander sucked in a shaky breath and tried to pull himself together.
"He..he went out to look for the b-bad guys." He scrunched up his face,
trying to remember. "They were heading towards 33a, that's what he
said."

"Doyle's not dead."

Angel's soft voice carried through the darkness. Xander looked toward
him, into a pair of stunned golden eyes.

"I'd know if he was." The vampire sounded as if he was trying to
convince himself as much as them. "I'd know," he repeated more firmly.

"Then we'll find him," said Spike, "and then we'll get the fuck out of
here."

The two vampires guided Xander around the fallen Locksaw and they
made their way back toward the storage room. None of them spoke.
They all knew either they would find Doyle alive....or they would soon
stumble across what was left of him.

*****************************************************

Doyle was very much alive, and pretty much scared out of his wits. After
pulling Xander to his feet and ordering the boy to run, Doyle had taken
off - desperate to put as much distance between himself and the
Locksaw as possible. Like Xander, he'd quickly realised that he was
alone.

Cursing, Doyle had stopped and turned back, briefly slipping into his
demon form to try and pick up Xander's scent. Instead he'd drawn
someone else's - quickly followed by a burst of gunfire and a chilling
scream. With a shudder Doyle had slipped back into his human form and
continued walking.

He almost stumbled into a pair of Regesh demons as they exited a
doorway. Turning, Doyle raced back the way he'd come - only to meet
three more closing on him from the other direction. Trapped between
the two groups, Doyle readied his rifle and prepared to fire. A cold voice
startled him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Doyle's eyes widened and he looked up - as a long tongue shot out and
yanked the rifle out of his hands. The demon clinging to the ceiling
scuttled away like some obscene lizard. Doyle sagged and raised his
hands in surrender.

Part Nine - Sixteen