Spike held Xander close, partly to guide the boy, and partly to reassure
himself that Xander was alive, and whole, and well. 

He and Angel had tracked the second Locksaw back toward the storage
room. That had alarmed him. Finding Angel's bag, abandoned in the
corridor, had sent that sense of alarm spiralling up several notches.
However, seeing Xander standing there, about to become demon-dog
food, had gone way beyond alarming.

If his heart had possessed the ability to beat it would have stopped as the
beast sprang toward his lover. Grabbing its tail had been pure reflex; a
desperate attempt to stop the beast from reaching the boy. His fury had
been limitless as he tore into the creature that had dared to threaten what
was his. He rejoiced in every agonized shriek and every pain-filled
tremor. Only when it was finally dead, did his awareness kick back in.
*What the fuck was Xander doing in the corridor ?*

The stumbling explanation left him somewhat numbed. Xander had
risked his life to warn him. Okay, so he'd known the kid was hot for him.
More than that perhaps, but this ? These were strange and - for him -
untested waters. No one had ever risked their neck for him before, at
least not willingly. Angel didn't count, he was his Sire and thus bound by
an ancient code to take responsibility for him. This had nothing to do
with responsibility.

Xander loved him - enough to take a chance with a Locksaw demon and
fuck knew what else, that might be roaming around these corridors.

The worst of it was, Spike knew the kid wasn't the only one afflicted.
Tackling a Locksaw like that had just been plain dumb, and Spike was
anything but stupid. Yeah he'd said the words. He'd claimed the brat and
said he'd loved him that one time. This was the first time he'd realised
just how seriously he'd meant those declarations. He'd been prepared to
risk his unlife for Xander's. That was a first. Even Dru had never
dragged that degree of commitment out of him. 

Maybe it was time he had a little chat with the whelp, when this was all
over. There were some things Xander was going to have to know. 

First things first. They had to get out of this nightmarish place....and he
really needed to wash this Locksaw crap of him. It was starting to itch.

He let himself listen to the familiar thump, thump of Xander's heart - a
little faster than usual - but soothing nonetheless. As was the blood
warmth of the fingers threaded through his own. He squeezed them
gently and got an answering squeeze in return. Spike tried to ignore the
instincts that told him to grab Xander and get the hell out of here. Angel
wouldn't leave without knowing demon-boy's fate, and he wasn't leaving 
without his Sire. Besides, he knew Xander well enough to know the
whelp wouldn't leave without them either.

A sharp, familiar smell assaulted his senses and he stopped.

"What is it ?" Xander asked. His voice shook.

Spike was loathe to tell him but knew he'd see it for himself soon
enough. "Blood," he said brusquely.

"Oh," said Xander in a small voice. 

Spike concentrated on the scent, absorbing its nuances. Some of the
tension left him. "It's not him."

"It's n-not...?" Xander's relief was only too clear. "How...who..?"

"Its human blood. Pure human," Spike explained. "Probably one of them
soldier gits."

The three moved forward gingerly. The scent of blood grew stronger
until even Xander could smell it. His nose wrinkled and then he grabbed
at Spike as his foot slipped on something.

It was one of Riley's men. Or rather what was left of him. The man's
lamp had rolled across the floor. Angel picked it up and handed it to
Spike, who passed it to Xander. Spike crouched down beside his Sire as
they examined the remains. Xander raised his lamp and peered over his
lover's shoulder. 

"Oh jeez.." He turned away quickly. "He's...it.."

"It ate him," said Spike matter-of-factly. The vampire lifted up part of an
arm. "Well, most of him." Xander convulsed as if he was going to throw
up. Only the lack of regurgitable material in his stomach stopped him.
Spike dropped the arm and moved to stand beside his lover. Tear-filled
brown eyes looked at him from a face pale with shock.

"His...his name was Martinez, I think," Xander gulped. "I....I said I
didn't
care if he died." 

Spike didn't care for the guilt stricken tone. "So, don't," he said
bluntly.
"He was a prick. Now he's a dead prick. His end could'ave been worse."
The vampire's golden eyes promised that the demise he'd had in mind for
Martinez would have been a lot less sudden. "He was one of the bastards
that filched me from the Watcher's. I remember his voice. If he'd had his
way I'd have been filling test tubes and jars." 

The message was clear - don't feel sorry for this git he wasn't worth it.

Xander wiped his eyes roughly. "So..so the Locksaw got him ? I mean he
was the scream I heard ?"

"Seems that way," said Angel standing up. "His gun's been fired."

Spike grinned evilly. "I bet that made the Locksaw real pissy." He
glanced around him. "That would certainly explain the mess."

"So," Xander asked puzzled. "If Martinez was the guy who got attacked.
Where's Doyle ?"

The two vampires exchanged a look. It was Spike who voiced the
possibility. "Someone else has 'im."

A noise up ahead startled them. Spike frowned and sniffed the air.
"Humans," he whispered.

"Riley," said Angel. Spike nodded in agreement. "We'd better find
them." That got the older vampire twin incredulous looks. "He might
know what's happened to Doyle," Angel explained.

"Yeah," Spike muttered. "He might have shot him." His Sire sent him a
dark look that effectively shut the younger vampire up. 

"Play nice, Will. They won't tell us anything if they're scared," Angel
warned, slipping back into his human guise.

Spike shook his head in disgust. Xander tugged on his arm. With a look
of long-suffering the younger vampire let his face shimmer back into its
smooth human planes.

The three of them walked on down the corridor - mindful of where they
put their feet - heading in the direction of the sound.

Part Ten  

They found the bedraggled group of soldiers in a room near by. Their
numbers had increased slightly from the original group, but some of the
old faces were missing. Evidently Martinez wasn't the only soldier to
make a messy exit. Riley was still alive; he was tending to a man with a
bad leg wound. The three were met with hostile glares as they crossed
the room, but the fight had clearly gone out of the Initiative.

Riley glanced up as the reached him. His face bore a large bruise and a
gash down one side. "Come to say 'we told you so'" he muttered bitterly.

"No," said Angel. "We came to see if we could help." He ignored Spike's
snort and looked at the injured man's leg. "You need to set the bone."
The man had suffered a bad break, a good three inches of bone stuck out
through his torn flesh. 

"I'm no medic," Riley snarled. "I know what he needs, but if we do it
wrong there's a good chance we'll damage his femoral artery."

"So don't do it wrong," said Angel simply. He motioned for Spike to
assist him. The younger vampire looked surprised and then glared;
however he came forward to help his Sire.

"What do you think you're doing ?!" Riley exclaimed. Two more soldiers
stepped up to defend their fallen colleague.

"Relax," said Xander. "Let them help. They know what they're doing."
His eyes said <You *do* know what you're doing, right, guys?>

"You break a lot of bones, you learn a bit about them," Spike offered.
Not quite the reassurance Xander had been looking for. It also seemed to
alarm Riley and his men.

Angel spared his sullen childe a hard stare and then turned his attention
to Riley. "We know what we're doing. Give him something to bite down
on, we can't risk any one hearing him."

The injured soldier was only semi-conscious. He moaned softly. Riley
grabbed his hand. "You'll be okay, Grahame. Listen, they say they can
fix your leg. What do you want me to do ? It's your call." His friend
focused on him weakly.

"D-do....it...." Grahame gasped.

Riley hesitated then looked up at Spike and Angel. "Okay."

"Riley !"

"What ?!" Riley spun around to face another soldier. "You want to risk 
trying ?"

"We know-"

Riley cut him off. "We know what to do, yeah. I *know*. I also know
that I don't have the experience to do this, and neither do you."

The soldier turned away angrily. He focused his hatred on 'Hostile 17'
"You hurt him and you're dust."

Spike growled in response to the threat. 

Xander was more vocal. "You so much as poke a pencil near him and I'll
shove that M-16 so far up your ass, when you sneeze you'll blow the top
of your head off." His expression said that he was deadly serious, and his
eyes held a slightly crazy glint that clearly unsettled the soldier.

Spike looked amused and he sniggered softly. 

Angel interceded. "Xander, calm down. No one's getting hurt here." He
took a hold of the injured man, who now had a leather belt clenched
between his teeth. "Will."

Spike elbowed the angry soldier aside and took hold of the injured limb.
Riley pulled the man back when he would have lunged for Spike. "Cool
it, Forrest."

Silence fell as the vampires prepared to force the man's broken bone
back into position. Those watching couldn't know it, but Spike was
probably better suited for this task than any Doctor. Bedside manner not
withstanding - he could 'read' the veins beneath the veil of skin, sensing
where each blue thread lay in relation to the next. The blood pulsed
through the artery, beckoning his demon. He struggled to contain it and
concentrated on positioning his fingers in just the right place so that
when he moved them like so-

Grahame gave a muffled scream, his teeth cutting into the belt. He
shuddered, his eyes rolled back and he passed out. Spike made another
minor adjustment and released the man's leg. "Done," he announced.
"Course, he won't be running away from anything for a while." 

Angel pushed him away. "Shut up, Spike." 

Spike smirked but fell silent.

Riley turned to face them as the other soldiers bandaged up the
unconscious man's leg. "I...erm...Thank you," he said awkwardly.

Angel nodded, accepting the reluctant gratitude - and the unspoken
apology behind it. "If I can, I'd like to ask a favour of you."

The young man looked uneasy but he nodded. "Ask it."

"The other member of our party - Doyle. He's missing. I don't suppose
you've..." His voice trailed off as Riley shook his head.

"We haven't seen your friend, sorry." He sounded genuinely regretful.
"I've lost three of my men too."

"The Locksaw ?" Angel asked.

"No. That is it got Martinez and injured Grahame but the others were
dragged off."

"Dragged off ? By what ?"

Riley looked frustrated. "I don't know. They're nothing we've
encountered before. We were in retreat after the Locksaw attacked and
we ran into these other things. Pretty much your basic HST."

"Sorry ?" Angel frowned, puzzled.

"A standard biped hostile. No horns, or claws, but they were very strong
and they exhaled this sort of choking cloud."

"Wrice demons," Spike sounded surprised. "What's a bloody Wrice
demon doing down here ?"

"A what ?" Riley asked.

Angel filled him in. "They're forest dwellers. That 'choking cloud' is a
type of nerve toxin. It paralyses the Wrice's victim."

Xander sensed the arrival of a *eww* moment."Then what ?" he asked.

"Then they split you open and feast on your innards. They like their meat
fresh and hot, and preferably still breathing," said Spike with a certain
amount of glee. "They make the Locksaws look like tidy eaters."

Xander had been expecting something gross, nevertheless he turned a
little green. "Aren't there any demons with non-revolting eating habits,"
he moaned.

"Says you," Spike chuckled. "The brat who thinks cold pizza constitutes
a meal...and that dust bunnies just add flavour."

"It wasn't dusty, it had only slid out of the box."

"Yeah, three days before."

Riley listened to this exchange with an incredulous look on his face. He
had seen the kiss of course, but this playful bantering was even more
alarming. "Xander...You....This is a hostile."

Xander gave him a 'well duh' look. 

"I thought you were Buffy's friend. Why would you be consorting with a
hostile ?" Riley looked annoyed and suspicious.

"Hey, let's leave Buffy out of this okay. You might not know her as well
as you think. Yes I'm 'consorting' with a 'hostile'. I know who he is and
what he is. I know he's not an animal that you can just drag off to your
little torture chamber." Xander's blood was up and he faced the taller
man angrily.

Angel was silent, subdued by the mention of Buffy.

"Torture ?" Some of Riley's annoyance fled to be replaced by puzzled
confusion. "What are you talking about ?"

"I'm talking about the house of horrors you've got down here. Where you
stick 'hostiles' in electric chairs and zap them till their skin starts to
melt." Xander was breathing hard as memories of Spike in that room
came flooding back to him.

A growl told him he wasn't the only one experiencing an unwelcome
recall. Spike's eyes glowed as his true face re-emerged. "You took me
out of the Watcher's house," the vampire snarled. "I should-"

"-Will," Angel's quiet voice cut through the sudden tension. "Leave it
alone. They wronged you, I know that, but this isn't the time for this."
Spike didn't move, his lips were curled back revealing long, needle sharp
fangs. "Will."

Spike ground his teeth. "Then find me something else to kill, before I
suck farmboy's eyeballs out." The vampire strode off into a corner. He
turned away from them, his rigid posture clearly said stay back. The
soldier closest to him got up and moved away.

Xander stared hatefully at Riley and stomped across the room to join his
lover. He lay a hand on the vampire's arm, it was shaken off roughly.
There was a brief whispered exchange, and Spike pulled Xander hard
against him. Entwined in an embrace, they both turned away from the
rest of the room.

Angel watched them silently before letting his solemn gaze fall upon
Riley. "Now, I don't know if you're really unaware about what's going on
down here. But for reasons I'm not going to share, I'm prepared to give
you the benefit of the doubt - for now." He stepped closer, narrowing his
gaze. "You hurt Spike and for that I should kill you. Help me get Doyle
back and maybe I won't."

Riley's mouth opened in wonder. "Now just wait a min-" He stopped as
Angel's face shimmered and he found himself inches away from a pair
of baleful yellow eyes and glistening fangs. He stumbled back. "You're
a...You're a..."

"A 'hostile'," said Angel. "Yes, I know. I'm what you unbelievers refuse
to refer to as a vampire, but then you already know that." He stared at
the other occupants of the room, most of whom had scrambled to their
feet, weapons drawn. Spike came out of his corner to stand beside his
Sire. "'Hostile'," Angel mused. "Such a bland, uniform word. I wonder, is
that why you chose it. Less scary than the words that chase you through
your nightmares - werewolves and vampires, demons and ghouls,
witches and warlocks."

He spread his arms wide and laughed mockingly - pure Angelus. "You're
children," he taunted. "Making up names to hide behind. Using your
special weapons and secret code words, while all around you is a world
you cannot face or understand. How can you fight something you don't
even believe in ?" His expression turned serious. "Time to grow up. This
isn't the world you know. This is reality. Magic exists. Evil exists. All
the monsters that you once tried to hide from in your beds are real. If
you want to stand a chance against them you have to face that."

There was a long silence, then Riley stepped forward. "What do you
want us to do ?"

Forrest looked displeased but he didn't question his friend's call. If
Riley
said 'deal' he'd deal. It seemed to be the general consensus amongst the
others - they obviously didn't like it, but they didn't want to die either.

Angel spoke calmly. "You want your base back. I want Doyle. I suggest
we work together."

Riley seemed to consider the proposition. "All right. What's your plan."

Angel smiled coldly. "I thought we'd just find who did this and kill them.
Unless you have a problem with that."

"No, but.." Riley frowned. "I mean 'how' ?" He didn't seem that happy at
admitting his inadequacy, but he was out of his depth here and he knew
it. It was one thing tracking down hostiles when you were well armed
and well organized. It was quite another to be facing unknown numbers
of *demons* in the dark, with only a handful of guns that were next to
useless. A good soldier knew when to make sacrifices and when to make
the most of unexpected allies. He ignored the part of him that said this
was a very bad idea.

Angel opened his black bag and took out a number of weapons that
wouldn't have looked out of place in a museum. There was a small hand
axe, several lethal looking knives, a couple of crossbows and a dozen or
so stakes. 

"No wonder that thing weighed so damned much," Xander grumbled.

"You're all trained in hand-to-hand combat right," said Angel.

Riley nodded. "Of course, but-"

Angel cut him off. "I know that you're no match for the majority of
demons strength wise, and your reflexes won't give you an edge either.
However, you do have one thing."

"What ?" Forrest couldn't stop himself from asking.

"Most demons don't see humans as a threat. They fear your weapons but
you they'll write off. That means they're over confident." Angel's
expression was even colder than his voice. "Over confidence can be
lethal."

Riley picked up a stake. "So we do what. Poke them with sticks ?"

"Those will work on vampires, Torus demons and Vendari. The latter
have violet coloured skin and long claws; use the stake just behind their
ears. Torus demons are big, eight feet or more. They have a fleshy skin
tone and a high pitched cry when they charge."

"Charge ?" a soldier asked worriedly.

"Charge," Spike repeated. "They'll try and crush you up against
something, so don't face one with a wall behind you. Take the stake and
ram it into its chest, they're allergic to wood."

Xander's eyebrows lifted. "Allergic ? What's it gonna do, sneeze itself to
death."

"No, pet. It'll start to haemorrhage. A few minutes and its insides will be
sludge." He looked at the soldiers who were now listening raptly. "Just
don't stand near it when it collapses. I've seen fellas pulled out from
under a dead Torus, not a pretty sight."

Angel watched his childe with a sense of pride, as he willingly took a
back seat and let the younger vampire discuss the do's and do not's of
demon slaying. Spike was always happy to play to an audience,
especially if he could scare the heebies out of some of them. It didn't
bother the vampire that they were effectively 'selling out' the other
demons. Vampires only really extended their loyalty toward their own
kind, and Spike's loyalty was even more limited than that.

Weapons were handed out. Xander took a knife and a crossbow. After
looking longingly at the latter he swapped it for a couple of stakes. "You
know," he said,"there is just one other teensy weensy problem."
Everyone looked at him expectantly, Xander looked up at the
phosphorus lamps that the soldiers had fastened to the ceiling and placed
around the room. "How do we fight when we can't see."

There were general grumbles around the room as everyone else voiced
their thoughts on this little hiccup. 

"You'll be able to see," said Angel.

"Not good enough," said Forrest. "Just what are you planning to do, huh.
Shove us out there and let the hostiles pick us off while you three make
a run for it ?"

Spike grabbed the man by the arm. "I don't run from any scabby-arsed
demon," he growled.

Forrest winced as the cold fingers crushed his arm. Angel cleared his
throat and Spike let the man go. "No one's running from anything," the
older vampire said. "Once we locate where the demons are holed up
we'll do a little spell-casting of our own."

Riley looked surprised. "You can do that ?"

"You'd better hope he can," said Spike.

Angel looked slightly indignant. "I know some magic. I can cast an
illumination spell, but it'll only last for an hour or so and its range
will
be limited."

"How much illumination will it give us ?" Riley asked.

Angel was impressed by the young man's matter-of-fact attitude. It
seemed Riley at least was beginning to accept that there was more than
the realms of man and animal at work here. "Not much," he admitted.
"It'll be mainly red light, so you'll only really be able to pick out shape
and movement. I suggest you take the lamps as well."

Riley had some of his men collect them. 

Angel had one more thing to ask of the young man. "Is there some kind
of main control room. Somewhere that your operations are run from ?"

Riley looked at Forrest, who stubbornly refused to meet his friends gaze.
He nodded reluctantly. There's a room the next level down. It's where the
main communication equipment is."

"How big ?" Spike asked. Riley gave him the exact dimensions of the
room. Spike smirked at him. "They teach you that in commando school."
Riley bristled. 

Forrest shoved himself forward. "I'll show you what they taught us," he
sneered, brandishing his knife.

"Ooh, please. I'm shakin' in me boots," said Spike. He eyed the knife
with something like amusement. "Wrong weapon, soldier boy. Weren't
you paying attention in class."

Angel was getting fed up with the constant bickering. "Knock it off, both
of you. Riley, get your men together." Riley and Forrest moved away,
organizing the rest of their squad. Angel slipped a knife into his ankle
holster and turned to Spike and Xander. "Remember, this guy knows
magic. It's possible he's only spent time learning this spell-"

"-but unlikely," said Spike. "So what, we take him out first ?"

"If we can," said Angel. "He might not even be down here."

"Makes sense," Spike agreed. "Send the drones to do the work, while he
waits top side."

"That's my guess," said Angel. "This is all a bit disorganized for
someone working magic. I think he or she has simply opened the doors
and let loose the animals-"

"-For a bit of bloody mayhem. Not a bad plan." Spike tried to find
somewhere to shove his stake without getting it to close to any vital
parts of his anatomy. Sharp bits of wood made him nervous. "Someone
with a grudge against these gits ?"

"They could form an army on their own," Xander rejoined. "I mean there
must be a lot of pissed off 'brother demons' out there."

"Maybe that's exactly what someone has done," said Angel, a speculative
look in his golden eyes. "Wrice demons wouldn't come down here
without a good reason and they certainly wouldn't bring Locksaws with
them. What if someone has banded together all the demons the Initiative
have struck against and a few others who are probably concerned about
a potential strike."

"A shared enemy makes for strange bed-fellows," murmured Spike.

The three of them exchanged glances.

"I want Doyle," said Angel. His expression said he would willingly tear
his way through a demon army to get back his friend.

"Then lets start the killin' and get home," said Spike. "I want to wash
this
muck off me."

"I was meaning to ask you about that-" Xander broke off as the vampire
glared at him. "Of course, it can wait," he said quickly.

"Stay close to me," said Spike. "Don't take on anything with more arms
than you and leave the things with horns and tentacles to me."

"Arms, horns, tentacles. Check," said Xander. He frowned. "So what do I 
fight ?"

Spike looked at him. The vampire wanted nothing better than to find a
cupboard to lock the whelp in until all this was over. "I suppose you can
kill vampires," he muttered reluctantly. "You have at least had some
practice at that."

Xander decided that now was not the time to point out that he hadn't
exactly been flushed with success in the vampire destruction stakes. "No
problem." He held the wooden stake up, gripping it firmly.

Spike pushed his hand away. "Just watch where you stick that," the
vampire growled. Xander shot his lover an apologetic look. Spike
muttered something unintelligible and Xander suddenly found himself
pressed against the vampire's body. He dropped the stake and wrapped
his arms around his lover as Spike kissed him. A cold tongue slid slickly
between his lips and probed his mouth with relentless urgency.

Xander's legs went weak as the blood rushed to other parts of his
anatomy. He clung to Spike as the vampire's kiss continued. He began to
feel light-headed. Fangs pierced his lips and hot crimson fluid filled his
mouth. He drew Spike's tongue in deeper and let his lover taste the
blood. They drank it between them. A sharper, richer taste suddenly
exploded across his senses and he knew that that it was Spike's blood he
was tasting, mingling with his.

When the kissed finally ended he stumbled and would have fallen if
Spike hadn't held him upright. "Woah," he murmured. He was surprised
when the vampire struck his cheek, hard enough to sting.

"Snap out of it," Spike growled. "First we fight, then we fuck."

Xander looked into his lovers glowing eyes and grinned goofily. "I love
it when you get all poetic."

Spike raised his eyes to the ceiling and pulled the dazed youth with him
over to the door where the others had assembled. Most avoided looking
at either of them, the few that didn't, either looked shocked or horrified.
One warning growl from Spike and they found something else to look at.

Angel regarded the pair of them patiently. "Ready ?"

"Lets go," said Spike. He glanced one at his Sire as the rest of them filed
out. They had no need for words. The message was clear - be careful,
and watch out for Doyle and Xander. Both knew that they could rely
upon the other to keep their respective charges safe.

Spike indicated to Xander to follow him and they left. Angel exited the
room last, but moved up to take point with Riley.

"Your friend," Riley whispered softly. "He means a lot to you." 

Angel's eyes narrowed, but he couldn't detect any hidden meaning
behind Riley's words. "Yes. More....More than he knows," he admitted
quietly.

Riley nodded. "I hope he's still alive," he said honestly. 

His expression suggested an understanding beyond his years, reminding
Angel that despite his youth, this was a soldier who had already lost
several comrades. 

"He is," said Angel simply.

There was nothing more to be said.

Part Eleven  

Doyle knelt on the floor, in a room the size of a small aircraft hangar.
His wrists were bound with a length of flex, and the demon guarding
him had slipped the belt from his jeans around his neck as a sort of
make-shift leash. The demon yanked on it and Doyle winced as his head
snapped forward, the leather tightening painfully around his throat. 

He glared at his captor; a Prenod demon with pustular skin and bad body
odour. Doyle turned his face away in disgust and looked around him.
The room was awash with demons - lumbering Torus, slender copper-
skinned Eluthi, tentacled Gracchen. Races who rarely cohabited and
would never work together in a million years.

Yet, here they all were, doing just that. Some were methodically tearing
up charts and records; others smashed technical equipment, tossing
computers around like tennis balls. A group of terrified humans in lab-
coats crouched in a corner. They had already seen one of their number
dragged out and beaten to death. The mangled bodies of khaki-clad army
personnel also littered the room.

Doyle was not having fun. He had considered slipping into his demon
aspect to try and bluff his way out. His plan was foiled before he could
put it into effect when the lizard-like demon 'shopped' him to the others.
They were unimpressed to discover that he had been about to shoot the
Regesh, not to mention the fact that he had been spotted in the company
of a human, fleeing from the Locksaw. He was now firmly rooted in the
enemy camp.

Nevertheless, his desperate chatter and half-demon status had at least
ensured that they didn't kill him outright. Instead he'd been presented to
the Prenod, a pet to replace its Locksaws, which were currently missing.

Doyle wondered what had happened to the others. He refused to even
entertain the thought of anything bad happening to Angel. However, he
was a little surprised that he was equally loathe to consider the
possibility that anything bad had befallen the blond vampire, or the boy.

Spike was....well he was a vampire. How could you stay mad at a guy for 
acting according to type. As for Xander - the boy had guts and he
obviously meant a lot to Angel; that intrigued Doyle almost as much as
it bothered him. He glanced up at the Prenod to check he wasn't being
watched, then he began to work on loosening the cord around his wrists.
He had to be ready. Either he was going to have to make a break for it
alone, or the others would come and there was gonna be one hell of a
fight. He wanted a part of that. The Prenod was pissing him off.

He'd been quietly struggling for a good twenty minutes when the
atmosphere changed. The demons stopped crashing and smashing things
about and a disquiet murmur spread through the room. Doyle strained to
see from his position on the floor. He craned his neck upward to the
stairwell and a grin spread across his face. <Gotta hand it to the man, he
sure knows how to make an entrance.>

Angel stood at the top of the stairwell, Spike stood to his right, Riley
was on his left - holding a crossbow. The older vampire held a demon 
by its ankle, holding him out over the railing. A hush fell across the
room. Angel's expression was faintly bored as he looked down upon
them. "I found this out in the corridor. Does it belong to any one here, or
should I just throw it away ?"

The demon in his grasp gave a whimper and one of those below pushed
his way through his stunned companions to address the vampire. "You
would side with those who hunt us, vampyre ?" It asked in disbelief.

Angel cocked his head slightly. "No," he said slowly, as though speaking
to a stupid child. "I side against those who annoy me." He smiled
unpleasantly. "In case you were wondering, that would be you."

The Broxel demon facing him glared, its pale green skin darkening.
"You don't frighten me vampyre. We are many, you are but two." It 
dismissed Riley with a snort. "Humans do not count, they're just food."

Angel leaned forward casually, still holding the terrified demon by the
ankle. It squealed as it dipped a little closer to the floor. Angel shook
his
head, tsking softly. "Where *are* my manners. Here we are chatting
away like old friends and I haven't even introduced myself and my
companions." He waved his free hand toward Riley in a bored manner.
"The human probably has a name, I forgot to ask it." He indicated Spike.
"This is Will, some of you may have heard of him. He's sometimes
referred to as 'William the Bloody', or Spike." That caused a ripple
around the room and one or two of its occupants shuffled nervously. 

Angel turned a beatific smile upon his captive audience and touched his 
hand to his chest. "And my name," he said quietly,"is Angelus." 

Doyle swore he heard a spider scuttle across the floor. He'd never known
a silence quite like it. He knew that Angelus had something of a nasty
reputation but terror on this scale was something wholly unexpected.
There was the sound of a door opening and closing as someone made a
hasty exit. 

The Broxel had turned yellow. Doyle thought judging by its expression it
was probably apt. 

"So," Angel continued mildly. "Do we fight now ?"

Several more demons took a step back. The door behind Doyle opened
and closed again. His grin widened. Unfortunately several of the species
in the room didn't have the sense to know who or what they were dealing
with, and, emitting whoops and cries, they surged forward. So began the
battle.

The first casualty was the unfortunate Regesh demon, who was still
dangling by his ankle. Angel simply dropped him onto the group of
Meshii rushing the stairwell. It screamed as it fell; the cry was cut short
as it struck a Meshii, killing them both instantly.

Spike leapt over the stairwell. Unlike the unhappy Regesh, he landed
like a cat and immediately flung himself into the fray. He picked up the
closest Meshii and holding him aloft, snapped the demon's spine, before
throwing him at a charging Torus. 

Angel dropped down beside his childe and punched a Neidmach He
chanted a short sentence in Latin.and the room was instantly bathed in a
eerie red light. That was the signal for the others, as Xander and the
soldiers poured down the stairwell and began landing punches. Blades
flashed, stakes thrust forward, and vampires vanished in clouds of dust.

"Oy, that git's wearing my coat !" Spike's annoyed voice carried across
the growls and shouts. Doyle watched as the blonde vampire waded
through the chaos, slapping aside any demon who got in his way. The
vampire Spike was heading for froze like a deer caught in the headlights.
A greasy haired youth, he was wearing a long black, battered leather
duster.

Spike reached him, stopped, and looked down. "Those are *my* boots."
He sounded outraged. Quicker than the human eye could follow his hand
shot out and grabbed the unfortunate fledgling. "Get 'em off now."

Doyle's eyes widened in surprise as the young vampire stripped out of
his clothes with preternatural speed. Spike took back his coat examining
it closely before putting it on. As the fledgling nervously handed him his
boots, the blond smiled. "Cheers, mate." The grin turned brutal and the
fledgling's face briefly registered shock - just before it turned to dust.
Spike put his stake into his pocket and began to change his boots.

Doyle shook his head. Only Spike would think of doing that in the
middle of a fight. He turned his attention away from the blond as he
searched frantically for Angel. The older vampire had disappeared
amongst the multitude of bodies that surged around the room. 

Doyle tried to shuffle forward and gasped as the Prenod pulled hard on
the belt. The leather tightened enough to choke and he began to cough
and splutter. He shifted into his demon aspect and headbutted the
Prenod. All he got was an eyeful of pus. Then the Prenod struck him and
everything went kind of hazy. 

The next thing he knew, the Prenod was coming toward him - gurgling ?
Doyle watched as the repulsive creature toppled sideways off its chair
and collapsed onto the floor. It had a large knife wound in its back.
Doyle looked up and blinked to try and clear the spots from his vision.
He slowly focused on a pair of yellow eyes and a deeply worried face.

"Doyle ? Doyle ? Can you hear me ? Are you hurt ?"

Strong fingers removed the belt from around his throat and then the flex
from his wrists. They rubbed his skin, getting the blood flowing again.
The fingers were cold.

"A-Angel ?" he mumbled dazedly. His vision spun as he was suddenly
pulled against the vampire. Recovering from the shock, Doyle happily
snuggled into the embrace, inhaling the smell of leather and familiar
scent of his friend. "Hmm, Angel..." 

He was not at all happy to be released. Angel touched his face gently.
The vampire's expression was hard to read, but Doyle thought he could
see what he needed in those glowing eyes. "Ang-" he began. The
vampire hushed him, laying a finger against his lips.

"We have to help the others."

Doyle nodded mutely, pulling himself together. He allowed Angel to
help him up and he looked around at the mayhem. The red light made it
appear as if the room was bathed in blood. Something which was
becoming less illusionary even as he watched.

"Time to fight the good fight, eh ?" He grinned.

Angel's demonic features smiled back at him. "Something like that." The
vampire gestured with his arm politely. "Shall we ?"

"Why not." Doyle charged forward into the sea of bodies, throwing
himself onto the back of a Noxus demon. 

Angel gutted a nearby Regesh before taking on the challenge of an
incensed Moola. Its enraged howls echoed around the room.

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

Spike had finished redressing his apparel. He'd kept one eye on Xander
all the while. Now he moved to join his lover - who was equipping
himself pretty well for a namby-pamby human.

Xander had successfully staked two vampires and had used a chair to
beat the crap out of a slimy, one-eyed demon. Now he was wrestling
with another slender creature. He gave a surprised yell, which rapidly
became a croak as a tentacle tightened around his throat. 

The demon's enthusiastic embrace ended when something grabbed the
tentacle and tore it apart - spraying Xander in white gunk.

"Mmrghuh," he spluttered. He wiped what felt and smelt unpleasantly
like month old milk from his face. He met a pair of less than pleased
golden eyes. "S-Spike ?"

"What did I tell you, pet. *No* tentacles."

Xander was indignant. "It didn't *have* tentacles when we started !"

Spike grinned. "No, they do kind of take you by surprise don't they.
Course," he added, "it's not *strictly* a tentacle."

Xander felt his stomach clench. "Okay, I know I'm gonna regret this but
if it wasn't a tentacle - What was it ?"

Spike winked at him. "Let's just say his chances of fatherhood would be
questionable, even if he were still alive."

"That's it, I'm going to hurl," Xander moaned weakly, clutching his
stomach. He yelped when something struck him, knocking him off his
feet. He landed beside the body of the tentacled demon. Recoiling from
it in revulsion, he looked up. 

Spike was gone. 

Frantic, Xander stumbled to his feet. It took him only a moment to
realise what had happened. The charging Torus had caught him a
glancing blow on the way to its intended target. Spike was now being
pounded against a filing cabinet. The metal folded inward with the
force. 

"Spike !" Xander charged forward, jumping over a fallen Regesh.
Slipping and sliding across the pools of blood, he flung himself at the
huge demon, bringing the stake down into its shoulder. The wood didn't
even scratch it. The Torus' armour plated skin was impenetrable.

"C-chest...ch-chest. Stick..it..it," Spike growled out in between slammed
against the cabinet. The vampire was struggling to retrieve his own stake
from his pocket.

Xander was still clinging to the creatures back. How was he going to
stab it in the chest ? He needed to get it to turn around. Wriggling
forward he put the stake between his teeth and jammed both his thumbs
into the creatures eyes. He felt the jellied mass give as he pushed down
as hard as he could. The Torus bellowed and staggered back. Spike sank
down to the floor. 

The Torus stubby forearms were too short for it to grab its attacker, so it
attempted to shake Xander off. When that failed to dislodge him it tried
to slam him against the cabinet. Xander saw the move coming and leapt
clear. The enraged Torus turned on him and lowered its head to pound
him. Xander thrust upward with his stake. The creature stopped and
looked down at it. For a moment it just stood there. Then it began to
gurgle; bubbles of blood appeared from its mouth and nostrils.

Suddenly its legs crumpled and it began to fall. Xander's eyes widened
as he realised it was falling directly toward him. Before he could get his
limbs to move, someone grabbed him and rolled him clear. He ended up
beneath another - very familiar - body. 

"Er...Hi," he offered, seeing Spike's displeased look. "I know...I know. It
has horns. What was I supposed to do, it was-" Any further explanation
was silenced as Spike's lips sealed over his. The kiss was surprisingly
tender and a touch desperate. Xander responded to it enthusiastically.
Then his survival instincts kicked in - shouting to him that making out in
the middle of a demon fight was probably a very bad idea.

Spike evidently shared that thought as the vampire broke the kiss and
stood up, pulling Xander to his feet. "We are going to have a little chat,"
said Spike softly. He placed another light kiss on Xander's startled
mouth. "Later," the vampire promised. Then he turned away and drop-
kicked a vampire that was trying to gnaw on Forrest. 

Xander shook his head. <Talk, right.> He wondered if he was ever going
to find out what was going on. Then someone punched him and he
punched them back and he was occupied with more pressing matters.

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

Riley had shot a number of vampires/hostiles....whatever. He'd never
actually staked one before. He watched it explode in a shower of dust
and stared at the piece of wood in his hand. <Okay, so it works.> He
looked around him for another target. His eyes caught on the blond
vampire who was busy kicking a Noxus demon into a bloody pulp. The
demon was larger by about a foot in every direction, it also possessed
claws the length of a man's forearm.

The vampire didn't even appear to be making that much of an effort.

Riley watched wide-eyed as 'Hostile 17' spun and ducked, and kicked
and punched. It moved with a grace and speed no human could achieve.
Claws sliced uselessly through the air above the vampire's head. Riley
had fought Noxus - they were fast, deadly, strong. Either this one had
consumed more than its fair share of strong drink or it was simply
outclassed.

Riley reluctantly plumped for the latter. 

Suddenly the vampire made its move, darting forward so quickly that all
Riley actually saw was the spray of blood as the Noxus toppled back
clutching its throat. He couldn't see a weapon. Blinking, he realised that
'Hostile 17' had simply ripped out the Noxus' throat with its bare hands.

He watched the agile figure slip through the sea of struggling bodies.
The vampire disappeared from view for a moment, to reappear beside
the other vampire - the one who now called himself Angelus.

Riley walked forward without even knowing. His attention held by the
sight of the two vampires working together to take down a group of
Wrice demons. The latter exhaled clouds of paralysing fumes that had
no effect on creatures who had no need to breathe. Bodies were passed
back and forth between the two vampires as they fought - their moves so
precise and well timed that they appeared choreographed.

As the last Wrice demon fell, Riley looked back out across the room and
realised he wasn't alone in playing the part of watcher. Xander stood
facing the two vampires, his expression tense. The youth darted forward
as the last demon hit the floor and Riley watched the blond vampire grab
his arm and pull him in for a brief kiss before re-entering the fray.

Riley frowned and refocused his attention on the fight, driving his stake
into another vampire before rushing to assist Forrest and Jensen who
were battling with a six-armed Fluute.

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

Eventually, screams and yells dulled to moans and whimpers. Bodies
began to pile up and the number of demons still standing dwindled to a
handful. The last two turned and ran. Leaving a group of battle weary,
bloodstained warriors.

Riley, Forrest, Jensen and seven other soldiers had survived relatively
unscathed. Three more were injured but not badly. Five were
unconscious, but still capable of breathing unaided. The other living
soldier was in a more serious condition - basically he was just waiting
for the last rites.

Doyle had a deep gash on his right arm; a worried Angel was using a
belt as a tourniquet. Spike and Xander were bruised and covered in
blood, slime, and your basic undescribable guck. They watched silently,
as Angel finished tending to Doyle.

Riley approached them. "Is everyone okay ?"

Angel nodded. "Doyle's hurt but-"

"-I'll be fine," Doyle finished patiently. "I heal pretty quick." He had
shifted back into his human face and he smiled gently at the vampire
who looked a little flustered. Doyle stood up. "So, time to go home, 
yeah ?"

Forrest had come to stand beside Riley. "He's a 'Hostile' he ain't going
nowhere." He stared at Spike with undisguised loathing.

Spike hissed and Xander tensed. Angel ignored Forrest and addressed
Riley. "We're leaving Sunnydale."

"Will you be back ?"

Angel didn't answer.

Riley nodded. "You have safe passage for the next 48 hours. After that."
He shrugged unhappily.

Angel understood. "We'll be gone by then." He motioned to the others to
follow him and the four backed away cautiously.

Forrest started forward and Riley grabbed him by his jumper and
dragged him back. "You will not move. Is that understood soldier ?!" he
barked. His friend eyed him sullenly. "I said, is that understood ?"

"Yes," Forrest muttered. "That's understood, *Sir*." He poured all his
resentment into the last word. 

Riley let him go. He looked back just as Spike was about to exit through
the doorway. 

The blond vampire darted forward and leaned over the stair railing. He
grinned savagely and waved two fingers at the men below. "Catch you
later, wankers," he called out cheerfully. 

A moment later Angel's spell ended and the room was plunged into darkness.
Spike's
cold laughter echoed out around them, fading gradually as he moved
away......

Part Twelve  

It was nearly dawn when they re-emerged back out into the woods. No
one wanted to return to the mansion, so they drove to a motel outside the
town limits. It was a tired looking place, with a tired looking owner, who
gave them two keys for two rooms and pointed them across the dusty car
park. Spike steered a weary Xander inside their cabin and kicked the
door shut behind them.

Angel unlocked the door to the other and rather awkwardly ushered
Doyle inside. "You'd better let me take another look at that cut," he
called out, disappearing through into the bathroom. 

Doyle undid the belt around his arm and slipped off his shirt. He felt a
little light-headed and sat down on the end of the bed. 

Angel came back out carrying a small medical box. He looked up and
suddenly stopped, looking slightly shaken. Doyle frowned at him
worriedly and Angel seemed to shake himself, coming forward to kneel
beside the bed. 

Doyle peered at the gash on his arm. "It's honestly not that bad-"

"-it's nearly bone deep," said Angel, in a tone that brook no argument.

"Well, okay yeah, but its not bleedin' any more," Doyle offered.

Angel wouldn't meet his eyes. The vampire kept his head bowed as he
very carefully cleaned the cut and applied a rather inadequate bandage.
He regarded his efforts unhappily. "I had something better in my bag-"

"-which you left behind," Doyle finished. "It's okay, man, honest. I'm not
much of a bleeder. He was relieved when Angel smiled a little. "I..er-"
he hesitated. "I mean...that is, thanks. " He shrugged. "For coming back
for me."

Angel looked taken aback. "You thought I wouldn't ?"

"No, no," said Doyle quickly. "I just meant I appreciate it."

Angel's gaze dropped to the carpet. "I'd never leave you," he said softly.

"I know," said Doyle quietly. He wanted to reach out and touch the
vampire, but he didn't. "Angel ?"

Dark eyes lifted to his.

"I wanted to ask. I mean, what's going on with you and-" he jerked his
head toward the room next door."

Angel stood up so quickly Doyle flinched back. The vampire moved
away. "I should, um, get cleaned up," he muttered.

For all of three seconds Doyle considered letting him go. Then he
jumped up and put himself between the vampire and the bathroom.
Angel regarded him unhappily. Doyle steeled himself against the
mournful gaze. "Maybe I am overstepping the mark here, but I need to
know. It's...This is just about killin' me here. You and Spike, fair
enough,
but the *boy* ?"

"It's comp-"

"Don't even think about saying it," Doyle snarled. He shook his head. "I
mean *god*. I thought this curse thing was for real. What, it's got a get
out clause or something ? You can get fleshy if it's not a girl ?" The
Irishman's temper was up. He was confused and hurting, and he wanted
some answers.

Angel tried to give him some. "I...I don't know. I guess it's because it's
not 'perfect' happiness or something. I mean it could be, but it's not."
The
vampire looked as confused as he sounded. "I do love them," he
admitted softly, "but I'm not *in* love with them."

The muscle in Doyle's jaw ticked. "So you've still got that Buffy thing
going ?"

Angel didn't answer.

"Well, all right. I can understand that. I mean the 'Powers' filled me in
and everything." Doyle struggled to keep a hold on his emotions. "But
why *them* ? I mean if you just needed..." He broke off and looked
away, shaking his head. When he turned back to face the vampire his
eyes were suspiciously bright. "Am I repulsive or something ?"

"W-hat ?" Angel stared at him.

"You could have come to me," said Doyle softly. He walked up to the
vampire. Reaching out he took hold of Angel's hand, entwining his own
fingers around the vampire's cold ones. "Am I such a terrible second
choice ?" he asked plaintively.

"Oh, god no," Angel's voice cracked. "You're..you're." He raised his 
free hand and cupped Doyle's face. "You're not a second choice," he
whispered desperately.

Green eyes tightened in confusion.

Angel swallowed hard. "You're my first choice," he confessed. "My only
choice." He brushed his thumb across the young man's cheek, watching
Doyle's eyes widen with comprehension.

"Me ?"

"I love you," said Angel sadly.

Doyle went stone still. Then he blinked rapidly. "You're in love with 
me ?" he repeated slowly.

Angel nodded mutely, his own eyes now bright with unshed tears.

"Then why..." Doyle's voice trailed off bewildered.

"*Because* I'm in love with you," Angel's tone pleaded for Doyle to
understand. "I can't...The curse," he said helplessly.

Doyle looked at him, his expression suddenly fierce. "It's not fair," he
said in a low voice. "It's not fuckin' fair."

Angel drew him close and for a timeless moment they just held one
another. Angel rubbed his cheek against Doyle's hair and closed his eyes,
his expression tortured. He started when Doyle suddenly pulled away.

"A kiss," said the young man with quiet desperation. "We could have
one kiss." 

Angel shook his head warily. "Not a good idea."

"Why ?" Green eyes pleaded with him. "We're both adults. We have
*some* self control. One kiss. That's all. What harm can it do ?" 

Angel worried his bottom lip with his teeth.

Doyle could see that the vampire was wavering. "Please, Angel." He all
but begged, his voice rough with emotion. "One kiss. I....I need that." 

Angel didn't say anything but he nodded and Doyle almost sagged with
relief. For a moment or two neither of them moved, then very slowly
Angel brought his head down and Doyle raised his up to meet him. Their
lips brushed lightly, almost chastely. Needing more, Doyle pressed his
mouth a little firmer against the vampire's. He let his tongue slip out and
steal across the cool satin of Angel's mouth.

That was all it took. 

Suddenly Angel was clutching him fiercely; the vampire's lips and
tongue plundering his mouth with breathless skill. Doyle wound his
fingers through the soft dark hair and drew Angel even closer, matching
the vampire's desperate desire with his own fervent assault. Still he
needed more and his hands left the vampire's hair to stroke down the
muscular back. He tugged the shirt free and slipped his hands
underneath it. He moaned into the kiss as he touched Angel's bare 
skin. It felt beyond wonderful.

Angel trembled and then to Doyle's dismay, he broke the kiss and
backed away. "N-no," he stammered. "I...I can't do this." He pushed past
a stunned Doyle and ran into the bathroom. The door slammed shut and
there was the sound of a bolt sliding into place.

Doyle recovered his wits and rushed over to the door. "Angel, please.
Open up. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He cursed himself. What had he 
been thinking. Of course Angel couldn't just 'fool around'. He cursed
again. This time crying out against the fates that had brought them
together only - so it seemed - to add to their personal torment. He sank
down onto the floor, leaning back against the door. 

He sat there for an hour. When it became obvious that Angel wasn't
going to come out while he was still in the room, Doyle picked himself
up, put on his shirt, and went out to find something to drink. Maybe this
place sold liquor, if not he could hitch a lift to the closest bar. He had
a
desperate urge to get falling down drunk - and then keep drinking. He
hoped he had enough money. It felt like it was going to be a long day.

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

Spike led a barely upright Xander into the motel room. He deposited the
boy on the bed and quickly drew the curtains; making doubly sure that
no sunny beams would be shining through come the morning. Satisfied
that he wasn't about to burst into flames any time soon, Spike turned his
attention back to the figure now snoring lightly on the bed.

<Not a fuckin' chance> he thought with a wicked grin. He had other
plans for Xander Harris, none of which involved snoozing the day away.
"Come on, wakey, wakey, pet." He dragged the boy to his feet and lifted
him up onto his shoulder. Then he carried Xander through into the
bathroom. As motel bathrooms went, this one wasn't bad. The shower
was almost clean.

Spike kicked the toilet seat shut with his foot and sat Xander down on it.

"Mmmpgh ?" Xander mumbled intelligently.

Spike stripped the semi-conscious boy with brisk efficiency and lifted
him into the shower cubicle. He toyed with the idea of turning the water
to freezing, but since he was in no position to give mouth-to-mouth
should the brat's heart stop, he decided against it. Instead he set it to
pleasingly hot. He quickly shrugged out of his own clothes - throwing
the khaki pants and shirt aside in disgust - then he joined his lover. He
picked Xander up off the cubicle floor and held him upright with one
hand, while he turned on the water.

"Wha-whaa-" Xander twitched and stiffened as the hot spray struck him.

"It's alright, pet. Just a little clean up," said Spike, reaching for the
soap.

"Oh." Xander's expression turned dreamy. "Mmzzat's nice," he
mumbled.

Spike rubbed himself against his lover's body. "Hmmm, yesss," he
agreed.

Bits of Xander began to wake up as Spike writhed sinuously against
him. "Oh god," he mumbled as the vampire's lips began to nibble along
his collar bone. "Don't stop."

Spike had no intention of stopping as his hands glided over Xander's
slippery skin. He cupped the boy's buttocks and pulled Xander hard
against him. "Want you," he hissed. "Want you *now*."

Turning off the water, they both stumbled out of the shower and into the
other room. They fell upon the bed in a tangle of limbs. Spike
manoeuvred himself on top and fastened his lips to Xander's left nipple.
He suckled on it, flicking his tongue across the hardening bud. Xander
arched up into his mouth, murmuring nonsensically. Spike gave the
same loving attention to the second nipple, grazing it lightly with his
teeth.

"Oh fuck," Xander gasped, clutching the sheets.

Spike kissed his way down Xander's torso, licking, kissing, biting,
reducing Xander to a helpless, quivering, wreck. 

"Please," he croaked hoarsely. "Plea-eese" His voice rose up as Spike
engulfed his straining flesh, cold lips and tongue working it mercilessly.
Xander bucked his hips upward, he needed to come so badly it hurt. He
groaned when Spike released him.

"Turn over." The vampire's voice held an edge of desperation.

Xander wriggled over onto his belly. Something cold drizzled over his
skin. "Wha-?"

"Hand cream," a roughened voice reassured him. "Found it in there.
Someone must'ave left it."

Xander sent a silent prayer of thanks to the room's last occupant, and
then shivered with delight as Spike's skilful fingers slipped between 
his buttocks. He was soon thrusting back onto the slippery digits as 
they stretched and opened him. The movement of his hips rubbed his
erection against the mattress and he groaned. "Hurry, Spike."

Spike must have heard the urgency in his voice. The vampire eased his
fingers free and replaced them with something bigger and much more
demanding. Xander muffled his cry into the bedsheets as the vampire
thrust into him with one deep stroke. Nothing had ever felt so good.
Strong fingers curled around his hips, holding him almost painfully tight.
Then Spike began to drive into him, pulling out and pushing in with
such force that the bed shook.

Xander clutched the edge of the mattress and let the vampire ride him;
the heat was already flaring out through his body and he knew he
couldn't last much longer. Spike seemed to sense his closeness and the
vampire rotated his hips slightly. Xander almost swallowed his tongue.
He buried his face further into the musty sheets to stifle his cries as he
came, his seed shooting out across his belly.

Spike continued to thrust, then the vampire stiffened and leaned
forward. Xander felt a sharp stabbing pain along his right shoulder,
followed by a blossoming warmth. He whimpered quietly, but the pain
was already fading. Soft sucking sounds reached him and it was with a
sort of dazed coherence that he realised Spike was feeding from him.
Then the sounds stopped and he felt his lover's fangs sliding back out of
his skin.

He was rolled over and kissed hard. Before he could draw more than one
ragged breath something else was pressed against his mouth and a low,
sibilant voice told him to drink. Xander flicked his tongue out cautiously
and a rich coppery tang exploded across his tastebuds - Spike's blood.
Without thinking, Xander fastened his mouth to the jagged tear the
vampire had opened in his arm, drinking eagerly - until Spike pushed
him away.

"That's enough, pet. Just a taste remember. No more. It's too dangerous."

Xander blinked dazedly, swirling his tongue around his mouth to capture
the last few drops. He looked up into his lover's face and reached up to
touch the ridges around the yellow eyes. "I love you," he said fervently.
Spike took hold of his hand and kissed each of his fingers in turn,
showing each an aching tenderness. 

Xander smiled. Who needed wordy declarations. He could get all the
assurances he'd ever need simply by looking into Spike's fathomless
gaze. He snuggled closer to his lover. 

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

Spike drew the bedsheets around them and wrapped himself around Xander,
draping
a leg across the boy's and circling his arm around Xander's chest. He heard
a bang
next door as door slammed. He frowned and then shrugged, it was none of his
business. However, as Xander slept he remained awake, staring thoughtfully
at the
discoloured ceiling.

Part Thirteen  

The last warm blush of sunset had faded and the first dark bloom of
night was creeping in. A disgruntled Spike and a bone-weary Xander
stood outside Doyle and Angel's cabin, knocking furiously on the cheap
wooden door.

"Come on you bleedin' nancy, some of us want to get out of this place
before mornin'."

Xander listened to his lover rant and leaned against the wall. He had
spent much of the day in, under, or on top of Spike, and it was all he
could do to remain upright. "Maybe he's gone to get the car," he
mumbled sleepily.

Spike shot him a disgusted look. "The car," he said, jabbing his finger at
it, "is right there." The vampire turned back to glare at the door
balefully. "The bleedin' pouff is still in 'ere." He hammered again - the
entire row of cabins shook with the force of his blows.

Xander glanced, bleary-eyed, behind him; sure enough Angel's car was
still parked - with no sign whatsoever of Angel. Immediately Xander
was wide awake. "Do you think they're okay ?" he asked worriedly.

Spike shrugged. "They had a barney earlier. It's been pretty quiet since."

"A what ?"

"A barney, a row, a set-to..."

"What about ?"

Spike was silent for a moment. "Angel told the mick he loved him."

Xander's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Woah."

"Yeah, woah," Spike muttered.

"So what ?" Xander frowned. "Doyle loves him, what's the problem."

"The *problem* you pillock, is the little matter of a Gypsy curse." Spike
rolled his eyes upward. "He falls in love, he has a fuck and 'poof' he's
all
bleedin' Angelussy."

Xander suppressed a shudder. "Not good."

Spike tried to look indifferent, he failed. The vampire kicked the door in
annoyance. "I told the prick to get it fixed. Does he ever listen to me ?
Oh no. He has to be all bleedin' noble and romantic about it. Tortured
hero my arse. Great bloody suffering pillock is more like it."

Xander grabbed Spike's arm to draw his attention away from the
unfortunate door. "Fix ? As in the curse ? He can do that ?"

Spike yanked free and wandered away from the door a little, looking out
across the tiny car-park. He shoved his hands into his pockets and
scuffed the dirt with his toe. "Curses aren't set in stone, pet. They can
be
broken or tampered with. Given the know-how you can do all sorts of
fun things with 'em." He jerked his head toward the cabin door. "Angel
knows a thing or two about mojo, he's tinkered with all sorts of bloody
stuff in his time."

"So he could break his curse ?" Xander sounded both hopeful and
incredulous.

Spike screwed his face up. "Not break it. Gypsy curses are a bit
unpredictable, but he could mess with it a bit."

"Like how ?"

The vampire shrugged. "Make it so his soul is a permanent feature, so he
can be all broody for eternity."

Xander moved quickly to stand in front of his lover. "So why doesn't 
he ? He can fix himself, but he hasn't ? That's...that's just nuts."

Spike regarded him patiently. "He hasn't fixed it because he thinks he
deserves every minute of misery the soddin' thing inflicts upon him."
The vampire shook his head. "Don't ask me to understand it, but he
doesn't *want* to fix it. It'd be like him breakin' out of jail or
something
before his sentence is up."

Brown eyes looked past the vampire to stare sympathetically at the
closed cabin door. "Boy, he really takes this tortured-guy-thing seriously,
doesn't he."

"He's a complete wanker about it," Spike agreed. "Though to be fair to
the git, there's a little more to it."

Xander looked at him. "Like what ?"

"If he messes around with his curse and it goes wrong, he could be
Angelus for good."

Xander's eyes widened. "You mean-"

"He'd lose his soul permanently. No amount of cursing would stick it
back."

The expression on Xander's face said it all - that sucked - major big
time.

"He told the mick, and then the stupid fuck got all angst-ridden about it.
He's been in there all bloody day, moping."

"What about Doyle ?"

"He's not in there. Probably went of to get snockered."

"Huh ?"

"Drunk."

"Oh." Xander suddenly looked alarmed. "*Oh*," he repeated. "Not good.
We're still pretty close to Sunnydale. What if Riley's friends don't see a
difference ?"

The words had barely left his mouth, when the door behind them and a
dishevelled, haggard Angel looked out. "Doyle. Where is he ?"

Spike regarded his Sire coolly. "*We* was just wondering that."

Angel stepped forward, a touch unsteadily. 

Xander watched him with concern. "Are you okay. I mean you look
kinda pale. Well, paler than usual that is."

"He hasn't fed," said Spike. "We'll have to pick you up a late night snack,
mate."

Xander felt a cold shiver pass through him at the vampire's words. All
this time he had forgotten that, to all intents and purposes, Spike's cold-
blooded killer status was now fully restored. He pushed the unwelcome
thought to the back of his mind. They could talk about that later, when
they had that 'little chat' Spike had promised him.

For now they had more pressing matters to deal with - like where the
hell was Doyle ? "I'll go speak to the manager," he offered. "Maybe he
knows something." Xander sprinted off toward the manager's office.

Spike watched him go and then glanced sideways at Angel. "We've only
just found the brat, and you've lost him already ?" He shook his head.
"You need to be more careful with your things, mate."

Angel's stare could have frozen molten lava. "I am not your *mate*," he
hissed in a low, shaky voice, "and either you speak his name with
respect, or you don't say it at all. Got that ?"

Spike lowered his gaze sullenly and mumbled an affirmative.

Angel stalked past his recalcitrant childe heading after Xander. After a
moment or two Spike stomped after him, muttering furiously under his
non-existent breath.

Xander was just coming out of the office as the vampires reached it.
"Doyle was in earlier. He wanted to know the whereabouts of the nearest
bar. The guy in there says he thinks Doyle hitched a lift with some
trucker."

Angel closed his eyes as if in pain. The other two watched him
worriedly. He re-opened them and turned toward the car. "We wait," he
said brusquely, walking off.

"Wait ?" Xander echoed, hurrying to catch up with the vampire. "Don't
you want to look for him ?"

Angel stopped and looked at the boy. His gaze was desperate. "Yes, I
want to look for him. But we have no clear idea of where he's gone. We
could go looking and in the mean time he could come back here." The
vampire started walking again. "He knows were heading back after
nightfall. We wait."

"Not trying to argue with your logic or anything, peaches, but it's already
after nightfall."

Spike was ignored. Angel got into his car, slammed the door shut and
sat, staring out the windscreen blankly. Spike and Xander exchanged an
'oh oh' look and went to sit on the boot. The vampire went through his
pockets and growled. "Bloody thieving gits. They took me smokes."

Xander smiled and reached into his own pocket. He handed the vampire
a rather crumpled packet of cigarettes. "Be prepared, that's my motto,"
he said.

Spike gave a quiet whoop and kissed him before snatching the packet.
"What about a-" Xander handed him a slender lighter. Spike grinned and
lit up a cigarette, taking a long hard drag he blew the smoke out into the
night air. His grin widened and he made a contended sound. 

Xander regarded him with a fond shake of his head. "You know you
stink."

"Huh ?" Spike frowned.

Xander smiled to soften his words. "That *stuff* whatever it is." He
pointed at the yellow stains on Spike's shirt and pants. "You never did
tell me-"

"-Locksaw," said Spike taking another drag on his cigarette. "Soddin'
stuff gets everywhere."

"You saved my life," said Xander softly.

Spike shrugged dismissively. "You saved my neck, I was just repaying
the favour."

Xander wasn't remotely fooled but he pretended to swallow the act.
"Oh," he said in a small voice. "So...I mean...You didn't really care. That
is, if I had died ?" He interjected a slight wobble on the last word. The
next thing he knew he was flat on his back across the car boot.

"Never even think it," Spike growled, pressing down hard upon him.

Xander smiled. "Didn't," he admitted.

Gold-tinged eyes widened. "You bastard." Spike sounded surprised.
"What's the idea of winding me up ?"

Xander's gaze sidled away a little and his fingers fiddled with the leather
duster. "Well you're not exactly 'Mr-let-me-tell-you-how-I-feel'," he
complained softly. "If I can't have the words, I at least like to see it in
your face."

"My face ?" Spike snarled and his features shimmered. With effort he
pushed them back into their human guise. "Stupid brat. Doesn't the 
fact that I'm here and you're here, and you're still breathin', tell you
anything ?"

Xander nibbled his lip unhappily. "I guess," he said.

Spike spared him a long suffering look, then he kissed him gently. "I can
say the words if you like." Spike pushed back a lock of dark hair. "I
William the Bloody do solemnly declare that I love one Xander Harris,
former no hoper and long time high school loser. How's that ?" Despite
the slightly mocking tone, there was no mistaking the sincerity in the
vampire's eyes.

"That'll do," said Xander. They shared another long tender kiss. 

This one went on a little longer and Spike manoeuvred himself to cover
Xander's body more thoroughly. 

When the kiss finally ended, Xander regarded his lover intently. "No
hoper ?" he whispered softly. Spike bit the end of his nose. "Ow. What
was that for ?"

Spike gave him a wolfish grin. "First off, I said *former* no hoper.
Second, only I'm aloud to bad mouth you. Any one else says something,
and they'll have to answer to me." He kissed the injured spot. "That
includes you, pet."

"Oh, so now I can't say anything against myself ?" Xander was smiling.

"Not one word." Spike's expression turned oddly tender. "You have to
stop seeing yourself like the rest of those gits do. I know the real Xander
Harris. The one who fights and fucks like a demon. *Trust me*." 

Strange words, coming from a vampire. However, Xander simply
nodded. "Call me crazy, but I do."

"Good," said Spike. "That's a start." He rolled off and retrieved his
cigarette from where he thrown it in the gravel. He sucked on it a couple
of time to get it going again and then sat back on the boot. His gaze
narrowed suddenly. "Well, look who's finally turned up."

Xander followed the vampire's gaze out across the car park. A large
truck had just pulled up. The door opened and a slight figure clambered
out. It was Doyle. The half-demon practically slithered to the ground and
stood swaying alarmingly. Xander's eyes widened. "He's-" 

"-Yep," said Spike, sliding forward. "He's hammered."

The two hurried across to reach the half demon, who turned slowly to
greet them. "Oh izzst you," Doyle slurred. "Blondie and brat-boy."

Spike glared at him. "Some one can't handle his drink," he taunted.

"Me-me ?" said Doyle, thumping his chest vigorously. He coughed. "I
can handle any...any'ting." He poked a slender finger into the vampire's
chest. "I could-could..drink you unzder any table anyzwhere." He flung
his arm out for emphasis.

Xander ducked to avoid being struck by the flailing limb."We'd better
get you in the car," he said, trying to take hold of the young man - who
shook him off.

"Like this ?" Spike asked. "He'll either chuck all over his highnesses
leather interior or else he'll babble annoyingly for hours."

"A-Angel," Doyle murmured. "Lovez...no's I hates the bastard..."

Spike rolled his eyes. "See."

"So what do you want to do ?" Xander hissed. "We can't just pretend he
hasn't shown and he's not going to sober up any time soon."

Doyle was peering, somewhat cross-eyed, at Spike. "Noz fair," he
muttered. "Yuz both get to haz 'im." Suddenly he took a wild swing at
the vampire, who stepped back, avoiding the blow easily. Doyle's
momentum carried him around almost in a complete circle; whereupon
his legs wobbled, and he collapsed face down in the dirt."

"Oh, very manly, pet," said Spike.

"Great," said Xander struggling to lift the half-demon, who was
surprisingly heavy. "Now what ?"

"I'll take him," said a soft voice. They both turned, as Angel crouched
down beside his unconscious friend. With the utmost care he picked the
young man up and carried him back to the car. Spike and Xander
followed. "Xander, get in the back." Xander hastened to obey and
assisted Angel as the vampire gently eased Doyle in with him. "Keep an
eye on him," Angel whispered softly. Xander nodded, cradling Doyle's
head on his lap. 

"Spike, you're in the front with me. Don't touch the radio," Angel
warned. Spike cursed, threw away the stub of his cigarette, and flung
himself heavily into the passenger seat. "And keep your boots off the
dash board," Angel added. 

Spike pulled a face, but did as he was told.

Part Fourteen  

Doyle was still completely out of it when Angel carried him down into
the basement apartment and gently laid him on the bed. Spike and
Xander made a tactful retreat into the kitchen. At least, with the latter
it
was tact, Spike was just looking for something to eat. 

The blond vampire wrinkled his nose as he sniffed the blood from the
refrigerator. "Soddin' cow," he snarled in disgust. Despite his obvious
disdain for all things bovine, he nevertheless guzzled down the contents
and went back to rummage around for seconds. 

Xander wandered through into the main room; he couldn't help but
sneak a glance toward the bedroom. Angel was removing Doyle's shoes.
Xander took one look at the expression on the vampire's face and sighed
heavily.

"What's up ?"

Xander jumped. "Can you *not* to that," he grumbled, glaring at an
unrepentant Spike. "I've just spent an evening playing tag with giant
demon dogs. My heart's had about all it can take in the shock-stakes." 

Spike shrugged and took another slurp from the packet of blood he was
holding. He looked past Xander toward his Sire. "Brood boy's putting in
for overtime I see."

"He loves him," said Xander softly.

Spike shot his lover a 'well duh' look. "I may not be Mr Sensitivity, pet,
but even I can see that."

"What can we do ?" Xander asked desperately.

"Do ?" Spike sat down on the couch. "Nothing. He's cursed and that's
that. End of story."

Xander sat down next to him. "No it's not. You said-"

"-I said he could fix it. Maybe," said Spike. "But he won't."

Pleading brown eyes turned on the vampire. "You could-"

Spike cut him off again. "-I've tried, luv. He won't listen to me." The
vampire looked vaguely disgruntled. "He never has."

Xander frowned. "Maybe that's because you..." He stopped when Spike
stared meaningfully at him. Xander backpedaled. "I mean maybe it's just
because it needs a less...er...abrasive approach," he said tactfully.

Spike regarded him thoughtfully. "Maybe."

"Could you-" Xander motioned upstairs. He wasn't sure he could do this
with an audience.

"Make myself scarce ?" asked Spike. To Xander's surprise the vampire
got up without protest. He was even more surprised when Spike gave
him a strange smile and said, "If anyone can talk some sense into the
pillock, you probably can. Go easy on him though eh, pet. He's a
sensitive lamb really." With that, Spike turned and went back up the
stairs. 

Leaving an open mouthed Xander sitting on the couch. "Curiouser and
curiouser," he muttered. He stood and walked toward the bedroom.
Angel was just coming out - they met in the doorway. Feeling awkward,
Xander shoved his hands into his pockets and shuffled his feet, stepping
from one to the other. "Is..erm he okay ?" he asked quietly.

Angel nodded distractedly.

"Angel ?"

The vampire focused on him.

"Can..can we talk ?" Xander asked shyly.

Angel frowned, but he nodded. "I just need to..." His voice trailed off
and he glanced toward the kitchen.

Xander understood. "Oh, right. Sure." He followed Angel through into
the other room, sitting down at the table while the vampire went over to
the fridge. He traced patterns in the woodwork with his finger, trying to
work out what on earth he was going to say. 

Angel kept his back turned as he fed, as though he was uncomfortable
being watched. 

Xander picked up on it. "Do you want me to go away for a bit while
you..erm..finish off ?" he asked softly.

Angel turned around quickly. "What ?" He looked startled. "No..no..It's
all right." Blood stained his fangs and lips. Xander stared, strangely
fascinated. Angel grabbed up a towel and wiped his mouth, then he sat
down.

Xander was slightly unsettled by the glowing eyes and he was relieved
when Angel's face shimmered, slipping into its human mask. <Okay,
where do I start ?> "I..er..was talking to Spike. He was telling me about
your curse. How you could fix it, but you won't on account of you
thinking that you deserve all this misery shit." He sucked in a deep
breath and berated himself silently <Could I *be* any less subtle>.

"And the point you're making is ?"

Something about the vampire's icily polite tone pissed Xander off. "This
is nuts." He clutched the sides of the table and leaned forward. "You
love that guy in there, but because you think you need to be punished
you're willing to let him suffer along with you." Xander shook his head.
"I mean, I may not be the brightest kid on the block, but that doesn't
sound like the sort of behaviour that's gonna be earning you many merit
points."

He saw that he had rattled Angel's composure slightly and he pressed on.
"So you, or rather 'evil you' did a lot of bad stuff back in the bad olde
days. You're repenting."

"It's not enough," said Angel hoarsely. "You don't know what I-"

Xander cut him off. "-No I don't, and to be honest, I really don't need the
visual play-back. You want to jog down memory lane every five
minutes, fine. The rest of us screw up too, but our lives our too short for
us to sit around crying about it." His expression softened. "Angel, we
*know* you did the evil-thing, but that was when you were evil. Now
you're not, and you're fighting for the forces of good. Even Darth Vader
got a break eventually." He frowned, "Of course he died."

Angel looked nonplused. "Who ?"

"It doesn't matter," said Xander. "The point is, I don't think any one is
gonna mind if you take some back. Have a bit of a 'happy' so-to-speak."

"Xander-"

"Just let me say my piece, okay. Then you can tell me to get lost."
Xander drew in another deep breath and took the plunge. "It seems to
me that this curse was meant to make you regret all the bad stuff you'd
done. To make you feel guilty and, well, basically like crap for the rest
of eternity. Right ?"

Angel nodded cautiously.

"So, job accomplished. You feel like shit. Being in love and having
some fun is not going to suddenly erase two hundred plus years of
accumulative guilt, am I right ?"

Another, slightly more definite, nod.

Xander stood up, placing both palms flat on the table. He looked down
at the vampire and fixed him with a hard stare. "Love isn't easy. Haven't
you learned that yet. Sometimes you have to fight for it and sometimes
you have to give up stuff for it. But it's all worth it when you do."

Xander lowered his voice. "I...I know there's a chance if you mess with
your curse things could go bad - *really* bad." Brown eyes reflected
sorrow and desperation. "Surely there's *someway* of making sure that
doesn't happen ?" Angel didn't answer him and Xander sighed heavily. "I
guess I just think that you owe it to yourself and that guy in there to at
least try."

He stepped back. "Okay, you can yell at me now."

"Is that what usually happens ?" Angel asked gently.

"Huh ?"

"You give your opinion and you then get shouted at."

Xander gave a slightly sheepish shrug and slipped his hands back into
his pockets. "Actually I don't usually get to say anything, and when I do,
mostly no one listens."

"They should," said Angel softly. "You're a wise man, Xander Harris."

"That's me," Xander joked nervously. "'Mr Perceptive guy'."

Angel cocked an eyebrow at him.

Xander explained. "That's what Spike said, once."

Angel nodded, understanding. "He's right." The vampire stood up slowly.
"But then he often is."

"Maybe you should think about telling *him* that," Xander muttered. He
flushed when Angel looked at him sharply. "Just something else Spike
said," he added.

"He thinks I never listen to him." Angel guessed.

Xander pulled a face. "How can you guys be so smart and so *dumb*."
He realised what he'd said and his blush deepened several shades. "Open
mouth and insert foot," he mumbled.

Angel just smiled gently. "It's okay. You're right." He shrugged. "Age
and wisdom don't necessarily come hand in hand."

"Tell my parents that, and my teachers and - oh, pretty much everyone
I've ever met over eighteen."

"They think they're wise ?"

"They think I'm dumb."

"You're not dumb, Xander. Far from it." Angel came around the table to
stand by him. He tucked a thick, dark curl back behind Xander's ear.
"Spike's lucky to have you."

"I'm lucky to have him," Xander rejoined quickly.

"Hmm." Angel seemed to take a moment to think it over. "I guess you
are," he agreed finally.

"What are you going to do ?" Xander asked.

"Do ?" Angel looked toward the bedroom. "I'm going to think about it,"
he said quietly.

"You'll talk to Doyle ?" 

Angel touched Xander's cheek softly. "Yes, I'll talk to Doyle. Now go
and find Spike. Keep him from wreaking havoc in my office until I can
come up there."

Xander flashed him a quick grin and darted away.

Angel walked through into the bedroom. He pulled out a chair and sat 
facing the bed. He had a lot to think about.

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

An hour later and Angel's thoughts were still in turmoil. 

Memories and regrets swirled through his mind as he watched Doyle
sleeping off his drunken stupor. He still wondered at the strange twist of
fate that had brought the young man into his world. 

From the moment they had first met, Doyle had accepted his past and his
vampiric nature with an ease that still baffled him. Okay, so Doyle had
his own demon aspect, and he'd clearly seen enough of the world to
understand the many shades of grey that coloured it. Even then, Angel
could never recall any one being so at ease in his company before. Not
since...

Buffy.

Her name still caused a stab of pain to slice through his unbeating heart.
He could bring her face in picture perfect detail into his mind. He loved
her. Some part of him would always love her. Nevertheless, he knew he
had been right to leave her. 

The first time he had set eyes upon her she was sat in the sunlight -
fifteen years old - she'd seemed so....small; so vulnerable. He'd thought
of all the evil she would have to face and he had wanted to guard her
from it. To protect her from the horrors that would ravage her innocence
and put haunted shadows behind those shining eyes.

Instead he had become one of those shadows, one of the scars that she
would carry through her life. His mouth twisted bitterly. He should have
known better. How could a creature such as himself, condemned to walk
in darkness, protect a young woman fashioned to be the guardian of
light. 

Soul or no soul, they were polar opposites. 

She was the Slayer. He was a vampire. No curse could alter that.

Their inherent natures cried out against their union. Love and friendship
warred with deeply buried instincts. Trust was a fragile bond between
them. One which he had shattered when he had taken her innocence and
returned to wreak havoc upon her and all that she held dear.

In her heart she had forgiven him and he knew that part of her loved him
still. However, he could not reclaim the shadows from her eyes. No
amount of hoping or wishing could breathe life back into Jenny
Calender; or the countless other victims he had claimed. It had been too
hard to stay. Impossible to face the fear behind the polite masks and
stilted pleasantries.

He was once again banished to the realm of the outsider. An unwelcome
outcast amongst a circle of friends. 

The wisdom of motherhood had been unnecessary. He hadn't needed the
words of Joyce Summers to tell him that his love for Buffy was doomed.
He had known it from the first moment. He just hadn't been able to fight
against it. It had been so long since he had experienced the closeness of
a living human being....of any creature. He had craved companionship
and affection almost more than the blood that sustained him.

Buffy had let him glimpse the light again, and for a while he had been
warmed by it. However, it was an illusion, a myth, a love that could
never be. Reality had warped and twisted and crushed it.

He had run.

She had known. He'd seen in it those haunted eyes. She'd known that he
was running away - from it, from her, from the pain that he had visited
upon them. 

He had run here. To L.A., the city of Angels. Seeking what ?
Redemption ? Perhaps. Or maybe he'd simply sought to put the past
where it could no longer reach him. He was tired of hurting. Sometimes
he wanted to walk up onto the rooftop and greet the sunrise, let it all
end. He'd lived too long. He'd seen to much. He'd done too much. How
could he ever repay the evil he had wrought about him.

Yet he didn't. Something held him back. In part it was the knowledge
that his death would bring no peace to those he'd slaughtered. If he was
cast back into Hell he could save no more souls - those that resided there
were already lost. Here at least he could do some good, make some
recompense, however small.

A soft moan from the bed brought his attention back. Angel let his 
gaze linger upon the man that had become so important to him. He
looked at Doyle's face - now in it's human aspect - delicate features; 
too strong to be pretty, not conventionally handsome, utterly captivating.

Skin, almost as pale as his own, covered high, wide cheekbones. 
A sharp face, dominated by vivid green eyes and a wry smile 
beneath short, tousled hair. His slight build belayed his strength and
determination; Doyle was a force to be reckoned with - courageous 
in spite of his fears, loyal without boundaries or hesitations. 

<I love him> Angel thought desperately. Okay, he already knew this. So
what did he want to do about it. Did he really want to risk playing
around with an age old Gypsy curse ? <*Yes*> His mind cried back.
<Gods *yes* !>

It wasn't the first time he had been so tempted. When he had returned
from Hell, and had come to realise the true nature of his curse - that
contentment, *true* happiness would condemn him - he had sought to
change it. Not for himself, but for fear of those around him. How could
he stay amongst them if to fall meant destroying their lives as well as his
own miserable existence.

He had researched quietly and alone, telling no one, not even Buffy.
Eventually, he thought he'd found what he needed. Yet, still he had
hesitated. If he worked the spell wrong, there was a chance he could
again become Angelus, and if he worked the spell right.....?

He had spent centuries in Hell, submitted to tortures beyond human
comprehension. He had never expected to leave. Nevertheless, he had
made a promise - while he was still in possession of his wits - he had
vowed that he would never again bring betrayal and devastation into
Buffy's life. 

He would stay away. He would leave Sunnydale.

Promises which had crumbled into dust when he knelt at her feet and
pressed his face to her warm body. The familiar beat of her heart, the
sweet smell of her skin, had broken him. He had sobbed like a child,
clinging to her, as she stood frozen.

So he had stayed, but he had remembered his vow and it had stopped
him trying to change his curse. That wasn't the answer. He knew he had
to leave. It had taken time to find the strength. Without the curse in full
effect, he knew he would never have been able to let her go.

Now ? Now things were different. He had changed. He had moved
beyond the monster he had been, and the down-and-out he had become
after the curse. His time in Sunnydale had been a sort of painful
adolescence as he had relearned how to 'live' amongst humans. His
relationship with Buffy had, in many ways, been that incredible,
overwhelming - 'first love' - all consuming in its intensity. 

He had struggled past those first awkward, painful steps. Now his life
had new direction, a individual purpose. He even had his own circle of
friends. Admittedly it was a very small circle, but they were *his*
friends, Doyle, Cordelia, Xander - the corners of his mouth turned up
slightly - even his wayward childe had returned to the fold.

He no longer simply existed...he had a 'life'....so-to-speak.

Doyle was very different from Buffy and not just in terms of gender. The
young man bore his own brand of world-weary cynicism. Buffy, for all
the brutality of her life, retained a youthful naivety that had often made
him feel every one of his two hundred plus years...and then some. He
had never been able to shake the feeling that he was an intruder in her
world, balancing on the fringes of her life.

He and Doyle were different, they were a team, partnered by The Powers
That Be, their lives were connected. The underlying conflict that had put
continuous pressure on his relationship with Buffy wasn't present. They
also shared the common bond of blood - they were both part of another
world, one inhabited by demons and darkness. Buffy was a hunter in that
world, an outsider operating within it; still human despite her abilities.

All these threads bound them, was it so inconceivable to think that The
Powers had intended it this way. Doyle's visions, his warrior skills - they
complemented one another.

Perhaps he was meant to take this next step. Surely if he wasn't The
Powers would intercede, as they had done once before when he'd sat
upon a lonely hill top, waiting for the sun to rise.

Angel sat forward, chewing his bottom lip. It would be better if he could
be certain. Could it hurt to ask ? The Oracles were finicky and
unpredictable - but they were also brutally honest....in a cryptic sort of
way. 

He continued to worry his lip incessantly. Was Xander right ? Was love
worth the risk ? Angel stood and walked over to the bed, staring down at
the oblivious figure stretched across it. He already had this man's
friendship, dare he ask for any more. Did he even deserve what he
already had.

Another soft moan interrupted his thoughts. Doyle was waking up. Time to
decide.
Angel went through into the kitchen; he collected a glass of water and two
pain-
killers. Then he went back into the bedroom and waited by the bed, watching
as dark
lashes slowly fluttered open to reveal a pair of bleary green eyes.

Part Fifteen  

Doyle moved his head slightly and bit back another moan. The 
pounding between his temples wasn't letting up any. If anything, the
mind numbing, bone crunching pain was getting worse. It was like
having a vision without the sickening rush of images.

His senses were screaming at him, telling him he wasn't alone wherever
he was. Warily, and with some reluctance he forced his eyelids open.
His brow creased with concentration as he struggled to bring the blurred
image into focus. Gradually the drawn, worried face of Angel came into
view.

Doyle managed a weak, "Hey," and a smile that was more of a grimace.
Angel didn't say anything - silently holding out two pain killers and a
glass of water. Doyle took them with a grateful, "Thanks." Sitting up
made his stomach churn. Bile burned the back of his throat and he
hastily gulped down the water.

Angel took back the empty glass and moved away, still without saying a
word. The vampire exited the bedroom and Doyle felt a flutter of
unease. "Angel ?" His call met with silence and he tried to stand; the
room tilted on its axis, spinning violently. He closed his eyes as a wave
of nausea swelled up.

"Steady. I've got you. Okay, now sit down. Take it slow. Now put your
legs up, that's it..." The soft voice was accompanied by strong hands that
gently guided him back onto the bed. "Better ?" Angel asked.

Doyle heard the anxiety in the vampire's voice and made an effort to
answer. "Uhuh," he said faintly; words were not currently a possibility.
He kept his eyes closed until he was certain that the world had stopped
spinning. When he re-opened them Angel was sitting on the edge of the
bed.

"Maybe you shouldn't try moving around for a while," Angel suggested.

"Yer think," said Doyle. Seeing Angel's expression, he offered the
vampire a wry smile. "Just gimme a minute or two. I'll be fine." Angel
looked dubious. "Honest," Doyle continued, "I've had lots of practice at
this. I'm a fun loving guy remember. I go out, I drink, I suffer, I sober
up
and then I get drunk again." Bitterness coloured his words.

Angel regarded him with a steady, unblinking gaze.

Doyle took a deep breath. "I don't know what to say." He shook his head
in a 'lost' manner. "I'm so sorry, you know, for earlier."

Angel looked uncomfortable. "It wasn't you. It was me, I....I lost
control...."

"Yeah, well, that's understandable. What, with me being so irresistible
an'all," said Doyle. The teasing glint in his eyes didn't quite hide the
sadness. However, he succeeded in his goal as Angel relaxed a fraction.
"So, we're okay, yeah ?" Doyle asked.

"We're okay," said Angel softly.

Doyle released a shaky breath. "Well that's good, you know. Cos jobs in
my line of work ain't easy to find." Angel frowned and Doyle gave him
an embarrassed grin. "I'm jokin'" he explained. "I'm tryin' to dig my way
out from under this mountain of mortification that's tryin' to crush me."

Angel nodded distantly. He opened his mouth as if to say something,
then he closed it again. After a few seconds silence he made another
attempt. "I...I have to ask you something."

"Fire away," said Doyle, trying to hide the twitching panic he felt.

"How do you feel. I mean about me ?" Angel asked quietly.

Doyle's eyes widened in surprised dismay. "Oh man, do you really need
to ask ?" Stunned, he reached for Angel's hand without thinking.
"I.....You're..." He took a second to gather himself. "You're the most
important thing in my life." He felt the cold fingers under his own twitch
slightly as he spoke and he went to pull his hand back, but Angel caught
hold of it. 

The vampire turned it over, studying Doyle's palm intently. "Do you love
me ?" 

Doyle felt his heart quicken. "Yes," he said simply, "I love you."

Angel looked up; Doyle was troubled by what he saw in that haunted
gaze. "What ?" he asked desperately. "I'm sorry if that's not what you
wanted to hear. I thought you wanted me to be honest. I can't help how I
feel-"

Angel cut in "-what about Cordelia ?"

Doyle blinked. "Cordy ?"

"You love her." It wasn't quite an accusation.

Doyle frowned. "Yeah, I do." This time it was Angel who tried to pull
his hand away and Doyle who held onto it. "As a friend," he continued.
"Me and her, we've talked. We've worked past the whole would-be
relationship thing. She knows I'm attracted to you," he admitted.

Angel looked taken aback by that piece of news. "She-she does ?"

Doyle nodded. "A while back I kinda confessed that the whole 'dark,
mysterious handsome bit' really did something for me." He offered the
vampire another slightly teasing grin, one tinged with embarrassment.

If vampire's were capable of blushing, Doyle swore that Angel would
have. As it was the vampire simply squirmed slightly; a not wholly
displeased look upon his face.

Doyle opened his mouth to add something and stopped as cold hard
reality suddenly kicked in. This couldn't happen. He and Angel couldn't
indulge in a bit of 'harmless flirtation'....because for them, there was no
such thing. Time to back off. He let go of Angel's hand and sank back
into the pillows. "So," he asked breezily. "Where's the dynamic duo ?"

Apparently Angel had no trouble deciphering who he meant, even if the
abrupt change in conversation left him somewhat bewildered. "Upstairs,
probably trashing the office."

"Oh." Doyle forced himself to smile, interjecting a sliver of false cheer
into his voice. "Best get up there then and sort 'em out."

"Doyle-?"

"I'll be fine, go ahead." Doyle closed his eyes and willed Angel to go
away. The silence stretched out painfully. He could feel Angel's solid
presence beside him and he struggled to keep his eyes shut. He jumped
when a cold hand touched his cheek and his eyes flew open. 

Angel was regarding him with an expression equal parts tender sorrow
and heated desire.

Doyle swallowed hard. "This is not a good idea-" He stopped as Angel's
fingers caressed his throat. "Please, Angel, d-don't." his voice broke and
he was both relieved and disappointed when the vampire withdrew his
hand.

"I can change my curse."

The words, so bluntly spoken, in that quiet matter-of-fact tone, almost
washed over Doyle. "W-what ?" he stammered.

Angel bit his lip and glanced away before meeting Doyle's wide-eyed
stare. "I can try to alter my curse, remove the 'happiness clause'."

Doyle's head was spinning. <Happiness ? Curse ? Remove ? *Oh god*,
they could-> He reached out blindly and Angel grabbed his hand. "But, I
mean how ? I mean when...Why haven't you ?"

"There's a risk," Angel explained softly. "A chance that I could lose my
soul, permanently."

Doyle's chest tightened painfully, suddenly it was hard to breathe. He 
sat, drawing up his knees, leaning against them. "Permanently ? You
mean-"

"-I'd be Angelus forever," said Angel flatly.

Green eyes squeezed shut as an expression of pain crossed Doyle's face.
This wasn't happening. It was some drink induced nightmare, it had to
be. His mind was torturing him - 'Hey, you can have your hearts
desire....but wait ! There's one tiny little snag - you could wind up with
Angelus, scourge of Europe and all round evil bastard.'

He opened his eyes. "What...what are the odds ?" The fingers around his
own tightened.

"About 60/40."

The muscles in Doyle's jaw clenched hard enough to hurt. "For or
against ?"

"For."

Okay, better than even odds and the balance swung in their favour, but
still, if this had been a horse he would have saved his money for the next
race. "You a bettin' man ?" he asked. His expression was torn between
fear and hope.

Angel's expression was unreadable. "Sometimes."

The vampire began to rub his thumb over Doyle's wrist in small circular
motions. A look of intense longing stole across the younger man's face.
Then he yanked his hand free, shuttering his gaze. "No. It's too big a
risk." His eyes pleaded for Angel to understand. "I can't lose you...I
can't.
If you become him...." Tears roughened his voice. He blinked them back
angrily - he hadn't cried for years, he wouldn't now.

"I know, I know, "Angel murmured. The vampire took hold of Doyle's
arms in a 'not-quite-embrace'. "It's just...I don't think I can keep going
like this." Angel's voice shook with the strength of his emotions.

Doyle broke free and he scrambled off the bed, standing at the opposite
side to the vampire. He swayed and leaned against the wall for support.
"What the hell are yer saying ? That you want'ta end it all ?" Suicide ? Is
that what yer tellin' me ?" Green eyes filled with anger and horror.

Angel shook his head. "Doyle, I'm already dead-"

"No !" Doyle shook is head fiercely. "I've seen my share of dead guys.
They aren't half so nimble on their feet. You aren't dead.
You're..you're.."

"Undead," Angel finished softly. "I'm the undead."

Doyle put his hands over his ears. "I am *not* listen'in to this." He spoke
through gritted teeth. "You want to get all maudlin, fine. But I don't care
what you say. You are *not* just some animated corpse and I won't think
of you that way." His demonic features suddenly took hold as he lost
control and he shook himself - trying desperately to dispel the stubby
spines. After a few seconds he succeeded.

Angel had already got up and moved around the bed. He took the
younger man into his arms. Doyle resisted briefly then sagged against
the him, resting his forehead against Angel's shoulder.

"I only meant I need you," said Angel fervently. "I need *this*. I....I
don't
know if I can stop myself from wanting you and I don't want to leave-"

Doyle's head lifted sharply. "Leave ?"

A silent tear tracked down Angel's cheek. "How can I stay ?" he pleaded.
"How can I share so much with you and not want it all." He raised one
hand to cup the side of Doyle's face. "I'd weaken. I'd take what I want
and damn us both to Hell."

Regardless of his promise, Doyle felt his own tears scalding his eyes. In
silent despair they tricked down his face. "I know," he whispered
brokenly and lay his head back against the vampire. They stood, holding
one another, trying to offer what little comfort they could. Eventually,
Doyle felt calm enough to speak. "So, we try ?" he asked hoarsely.

Angel hesitated. "I want to speak with the Oracles."

Doyle tensed. "Why ? I don't know if that's such a good idea. They're
contrary creatures. They might say against us out of spite."

"I know," said Angel, "but I need to ask."

Doyle understood. There was too much riding on this for them to act
arbitrarily. Their own selfish needs, however powerful and demanding,
were secondary to the cause they were both bound to serve. "Okay, but
I'll come with yer." It wasn't open for discussion. 

There was still something else to be dragged into the open. "What if...."
He couldn't bring himself to say it.

"I become Angelus ?"

Doyle nodded.

"Then one of you will have to stake me." Angel's voice was eerily calm.

Doyle's was anything but, even though he'd guessed what the vampire
would say. "I couldn't," he shook his head appalled. "Please, Angel, don't
ask me-"

"-your promise," said Angel. "If I'm going to do this, I must have your
promise, and Spike's and Xander's." His gaze softened upon Doyle's
distress. "I can't risk...I can't be...Not again." His eyes said it all -
to be
Angelus was worse than eternal death.

"If one of you can't give me your word, then we don't do this." Angel's
face was tight with grief, but his voice remained calm and steady.

Doyle controlled his own distress and regarded the vampire levelly.
"And then you'll leave," he said softly. Angel didn't answer him, he didn't
need to. Doyle knew that Angel wouldn't take the chance of losing his
soul to a moments weakness. If he couldn't walk away....- how hard
would it be for Angel to get careless in a fight. Did The Powers want
their 'champion' so badly that they would look out for him ? Or was there
already another 'dark warrior' waiting in the wings.

This had to work. Things had already gone too far. There was no turning
away from this. It had to work - because the alternative was unthinkable.

Part Sixteen

Emotions were also a little muddied upstairs; as two waiting lovers
waded through unknown waters......

After his 'chat' with Angel, Xander had raced into the office to find
Spike sitting at the front desk, resting his boots on it, reading
Cosmopolitan.

"About bloody time," the vampire grumbled. "You talk any sense into
the git ?"

Xander shrugged. "He says he's thinking about it. He's going to talk it
through with Doyle."

Spike's eyebrows rose. "I'm impressed, pet." He threw aside the
magazine and swung his boots to the floor as he stood and walked
around the desk.

Xander recognized the gleam in those stormy blue eyes and he took a
hasty step back, shaking his head. "Uh uh, down, boy." He raised his
hands. "You promised we'd talk, remember ?"

"I never promised," said Spike still stalking toward him.

Xander looked around and grabbed the pot plant from the cabinet behind
him. He held it up in front of him like a leafy shield. "First we talk,
then
we fuck," he insisted.

Spike's eyes narrowed dangerously - Xander stared him down defiantly.
The vampire gave a disgusted 'tsk' and stomped back over to the desk.
He sat down and pulled out a crumpled packet of cigarettes. Lighting
one he regarded Xander balefully. "Well, come on then. Talk."

"M-me ?!" Xander's temper flared. "Hey, *I'm* the one having all sorts
of freaky vampire crap thrown at him. I think *I'm* the one who needs
to be hearing some answers here."

Spike blew out a smoke ring. "'Freaky vampire stuff ?'" he repeated
coldly.

Xander wasn't fooled by the tone; he'd already caught the faint glimmer
of concern in his lover's expression. He put down the plant and walked
over to the vampire. He plucked the cigarette out of Spike's fingers and
stubbed it out in a discarded coffee cup. The telling thing was that Spike
let him.

"I can sense you," said Xander softly. "I can feel where you are, even
when I can't hear or see you." He looked at Spike desperately. "*I* found
you in that place. I closed my eyes and I *knew* where you were. What
the hell is happening to me ?" His voice rose slightly. "You....you drank
my blood and I *liked* it. I like drinking yours..." Xander stopped,
unable to continue; he was shaking. 

Strong arms grabbed him and pulled him close. 

"I'm not turning you," the vampire promised, understanding Xander's
unspoken fear. "I won't. Not unless you want me to. You'd change if I
turned you, and I-" a slight shrug "- I like you like this." Spike looked
embarrassed by the admission.

Xander managed a wobbly smile. "So, it's just a kinky sex thing ?"

Spike didn't respond to the nervous teasing. He looked decidedly
uncomfortable and when he spoke his tone was deadly serious. "It's a bit
more than that, pet. When we share blood and fuck, it's kind of a binding
thing."

"A binding thing ?" Xander's eyes widened. "That demon, the one in the
bar, he called me your consort. Is that what this is about ?"

Spike cursed the afore mentioned demon in several languages. "Yes," he
muttered finally.

Xander swallowed hard. "What does it mean ?"

Spike explained. "Only Master vampires take consorts; fledglings just
fuck and fight. A consort has certain...privileges, plus they're under the
Master's protection. More often than not they're not vampires. A Master
can take a consort from any race. By sharing blood, especially during
sex, they tie their chosen one to them, creating a kind of bond."

"Like what I can feel," said Xander softly.

Spike nodded. "Other vampires can sense it too. It tells them you're
taken. Warns them off. It's not fullproof - they might still tear your
throat
out - but they'd know they'd have to answer for it, eventually." Blue eyes
took on a golden tinge as Spike clearly thought about the possibility of
any one daring to touch his lover.

"But you said your blood was dangerous ?" Xander was adrift in a sea of
confusion. Blood and Binding ? Consorts and Masters ? He hadn't been
this bewildered since his last trigonometry exam.

"It is, pet," said Spike gently. "If you take too much, too often. Now and
then just strengthens the bond and-" he shifted uneasily "-it gives you an
edge."

Xander twitched. "An edge ?"

"Vampire blood's powerful stuff, pet. You can't drink it without
'changing' a bit."

"I'm changing ?" Xander's voice was filled with panic.

Spike soothed him. "Sssh. Nothing bad. It just makes you a bit stronger,
and it might-"

"-*yes* ?" Xander demanded.

"-make you live a bit longer."

"*What ? !*"

"Easy, luv. We're not talking immortality 'ere. Just stretching your life-
span by a few years, that's all." Spike didn't add that no one really knew
by how much, since most consorts were either killed or turned before
they died of old age.

Xander's mind was still reeling. "What if I don't take any more. Then
what ?"

"Do you want to stop ?" Spike asked flatly.

"No," Xander shook his head. "I...I want it," he admitted. Brown eyes
narrowed. "Is it addictive ?"

Spike pursed his lips thoughtfully. Then he nodded. "Slightly, yes."

"So what would happen if I did stop ?"

"Now ? You'd go through a sort of withdrawal."

"What about later ?" Xander asked. Spike didn't say anything. "It would
be worse, wouldn't it ?" 

A terse nod.

"Mated," Xander murmured quietly.

"Huh ?"

"We're mated," said Xander slowly. "That's what Angel said." Brown
eyes met blue without a trace of hesitancy. "So is this a permanent 
thing ?"

It was Spike's turn to swallow hard. "Do you want it to be ?" His casual
tone was slightly spoiled by the nervous way he wetted his lips.

Did he ? Xander's gaze turned inward as he thought about what the
vampire was asking of him. This was life altering stuff. If he was ever
going to walk away from this now was the time - of course Spike would
probably kill him - but did he even want to try ? 

He looked into slightly worried blue eyes and smiled. "Yes," he replied
honestly. "I'm undoubtedly insane, but yes, I do."

"Then it is," said Spike simply. He slid his hands down to cup Xander's
buttocks. "So, can we fuck now ?"

Xander's smile widened at the vampire's slightly whiny tone. "I'm
exhausted," he protested. "I haven't slept since-"

"-you slept in the car," Spike argued, already tugging at Xander's shirt.
"You can sleep later. I want you to fuck me." It wasn't 'quite' an order.

"Here ?" Xander looked around the office a touch alarmed. It seemed
very....well....open. "There are windows-"

"-which have blinds," said Spike, starting on the belt around Xander's
jeans. He grinned lasciviously. "We talked. Now we fuck. That was the
deal believe."

"What if Cordy comes in-"

"Oh please. I doubt very much that she'll show her pretty face before
9.00," said Spike, who was busily dragging down Xander's jeans.

Xander slipped his feet out of his sneakers and leaned against the
vampire to step out of his jeans and boxers. Spike was blowing softly
against the exposed skin of his chest and his stomach was turning flip-
flops. He offered up a final flimsy protest. "What if she does come in
early ?"

Spike made an exasperated sound. "Then we'll have us a jolly
threesome. Now shut up."

They both thought about what he'd just said and shared a look that
clearly said <Not bloody likely !>

Xander opened his mouth to speak and Spike pressed cold fingers to his
lips.

"Not one word," the vampire whispered. "*If* she shows, she can either
stay and watch, or piss off somewhere else."

Xander nodded mutely. The heat in Spike's eyes made his heart hammer
madly. His weariness forgotten, he worked on getting Spike out of his
clothes. "What about-"

Spike drew a small tube out of his pocket. It was the hand cream from
the motel. Xander grinned and leaned in to claim a kiss. Spike was right
- enough with the chat, it was time for some mind melting sex.

The computer was pushed dangerously close to the edge as he all but
climbed onto Spike's lap. The kiss was deep and urgent; as thought it
had been weeks not hours since they had last done this. Xander had
never thought it was possible to want any one this badly, this often. He
was addicted alright, but it was Spike himself, not the vampire's blood
that fuelled his cravings. If this was a sickness, Xander didn't want to be
cured; it felt too damn good.

Pens and pencils were swept onto the floor, they rolled away across the
linoleum. The cup fell, sending up a spray of cold coffee. Spike lay on is
back sprawled over the desk, with Xander draped on top of him. The
wooden legs wobbled with the momentum of their bodies as they thrust
against one another.

Lips and tongues duelled with feverish intensity as their desire spiralled.
Mated they might be, but this was a mutual claiming - the vampire as
lost as his human consort in this frenetic coupling.

Xander suddenly drew back with a mutter of annoyance. Spike's clothing
was proving impossible to remove at this range. They separated briefly,
scrabbling about - dragging off boots, the duster, and finally the
bloodstained khakis. With both of them finally naked, Xander roughly
pushed Spike back down and lay on top of him.

Spike made a curious whimpering sound; his eyes half-closed in heated
satisfaction. His face was already shifting between its human and
vampiric guises.

Xander fumbled blindly with the handcream, flipping the cap with one
hand. The strange grunts and growls Spike made as he prepared him,
sent the remainder of Xander's blood rushing south. Spike always felt
impossibly tight. He had to work to ease his second finger inside; the
third was almost painful as the vampire's muscles clenched around him. 

Spike himself, showed no signs of discomfort as he bucked against
Xander's hand.

Xander felt his control slipping. He hoped he'd worked enough of the
cream into Spike as he withdrew his fingers and readied himself. 

The vampire was in full game face. He lay back panting, lips furled,
revealing long needle-like teeth.

Xander didn't waste time easing in slowly. He grabbed Spike's legs and
pushed them up, driving in with such force that Spike slid across the
desk. Xander pulled him back, ruthlessly impaling the vampire in one
violent thrust. Spike threw back his head and howled, wrapping his legs
around Xander, who's ribs creaked in protest.

As they drove against one another, Xander snatched his lover's hand and
sank his teeth into the base of Spike's thumb. He licked the vampire's
palm with swirling sweeps of his tongue as the rich scarlet fluid flowed.

Spike responded by grabbing Xander's free hand - burrowing his fangs
deep into the boy's flesh. Xander gasped as Spike lapped up the blood.
Then the vampire let go and pulled his own hand free. The reached for
one another simultaneously, bloodied palms pressed together as their
fingers intertwined. Brown eyes locked with gold as the tempo of their
thrusts increased.

The desk jerked and rocked. The computer crept closer and closer to the
edge. Xander fought for purchase; his bare feet sticking to the linoleum
floor as his knees rebounded of the wood with bruising force. Suddenly
he stiffened and with a choked cry he came, spilling his seed deep into
his lover's body.

As Xander collapsed forward, Spike's teeth sank into him - not to drink,
just to bite. Xander moved his head and bit deeply into Spike's torso. It
was enough. The vampire howled and arched against him; cold seed
rushing out between their bodies. The desk gave one more tremendous
lurch and the computer toppled to the floor with a resounding crash.

Then there was silence.

Xander tried to move but Spike stopped him. Xander tried to protest.
"You can't be comfor-"

"I'm fine, keep still," said Spike tightening his hold.

Xander obediently gave up trying to move. He wasn't even sure he could
- some one had apparently snuck in and replaced his bones with cotton
candy. "We killed the computer," he whispered.

"Oops," Spike agreed dryly. The vampire sounded less than concerned
about the computer's sorry fate.

"Think Angel will make us buy him another one ?" Try as he might,
Xander couldn't really bring himself to care.

"He can try," said Spike. "Maybe he'll be satisfied with a few sexual
favours. He seemed quite impressed with your talents."

Xander reached up and grabbed a handful of the vampire's hair; he
struck Spike's head against the desk. "Not nice," he warned.

Spike grinned smugly. "Nope, but then you wouldn't have me any other
way, would you." 

"'Suppose not," Xander admitted reluctantly, petting the bit of his lover
he'd just assaulted. "But I wouldn't rely on that cliched cockney charm to
get you out of everything."

Spike stuck out his tongue and Xander wiggled up his lover's body to try
and suck it into his own mouth. Spike didn't put up much of a fight and
they kissed wetly for a few minutes, only pausing now and then for
Xander to draw breath.

Eventually, Xander rested his head back against the vampire's chest.
"You know," he said softly. "There is just one other thing I wanted to
ask." He could feel the tension stealing back into Spike's body and he
gave his lover's nipple a reassuring lick before pressing on. He had to
know. "Your implant. Now that's it's not working. What will you.." He
trailed off unhappily.

"Will I be dining on the locals ?" Spike finished for him.

Xander raised his head and fixed his lover with a troubled gaze. "I
*know* it's what you do and everything. I can't help not liking it. I'm
trying," he said helplessly.

Spike stroked away a few strands of Xander's fringe. "This is L.A, pet.
Plenty of bad guys for me to munch on."

Xander stared silently while he tried to decipher what Spike was saying.
His eyes widened."You mean you'd-"

Spike cut him off. "I'm not 'soul boy'. I don't do the dead animal crap."
Gold eyes softened slightly. "But I figure there's enough creeps to feed
off in this city without snackin' on the other pathetic residents."

"What if you can't." Xander asked worriedly. He failed to keep the
desperate hope from his face. Would Spike really do this for him ?

"Then I guess the odd bovine beverage won't finish me," said Spike
sourly. "Course, I expect something for it."

"Sexual favours ?" Xander teased. He felt light-headed all of a sudden.
Literally dizzy with happiness. He had struggled not to think about what
Spike would do without the implant. He had hoped but never believed
that Spike would make such a sacrifice. Okay, so the vampire wasn't
exactly going cold turkey, but even being a bit discriminatory about who
he fed on was a big step to take. Xander felt a foolish grin settle on his
face - and Spike was doing it for him.

"Sexual favours ?" Spike pretended to think it over. "Hmm, yeah. That'll
do. I think it's time we broadened your horizons a little."

Xander felt a quiver shudder through him as Spike's husky tenor
conjured up all sorts of possibilities in his fevered imagination. "I'm
game," he agreed boldly.

Spike's expression was both tender and sly. "Yes, pet, you are. You are."