Friday morning, and Xander was halfway out of bed before he remembered he had no work, this being the day they travelled to Sunnydale for his birthday celebrations on Sunday.  He slid back under the covers and across to Spike, slumping over the vampire’s body and sighing blissfully as he drifted back to sleep.

“You okay with this today?” Spike drowsily enquired, hands beginning their habitual reconnaissance of Xander’s body.

Xander un-drifted.

“Yeah.”

“Why you awake then?”

“I was getting up for work.”

“Knew that’d happen.  But if I’d tied your ankle to the bedpost you’d have only bitched about it.”

“Uh…yeah.”  Drift.  Un-drift.  “Think we should take Henry with us?”

“Nah.  Rafe’s going to pretend to take him in.”

“Pretend?”

“Wherever we leave Hame he’ll be back in the woods before we’re an hour up the road.”

“Hey…  Did you train him to bite Angel?”

“Not bite, no.  Didn’t want the mutt poisoned, did I?  But he does the lip thing.”

“Lip thing?”  Spike placed a fingertip beneath the right end of Xander’s top lip and made it tremble.  Xander gave a soft laugh.  “Yeah, okay, the lip thing.  Complete with grr?”

“Subtle grr.”

Spike trembled Xander’s lip again while Xander tried a subtle growl, leaving them both giggling until the giggling led to snuggling and the snuggling led to smooching.  They jumped as the house creaked then joined in with the totally predictable woof that came from the hallway.

“Y’know that’s going to happen while we’re away.”

“What?  Creaking?”

“No, us.  Something will make a noise and we’ll both bark at it.”

“Hmmm.”

“What?”

“Just thinking of you on your hands and knees.”

“Think a couple more hours sleep instead.  Long drive and…  You sure about doing the spell tonight?”

“Get it done and it’ll save us a trip to LA.”

“No chance of any Hellmouth effect?”

“It is safe, love,” Spike promised.  “Wherever.”

“As long as you’re sure.”

But Xander didn’t sound convinced, and Spike felt obliged to distract him with…not sleeping.

…

As planned, they arrived in Sunnydale after sundown, making their way to Willow’s to meet their friends and do a little bonding before moving elsewhere with Angel to perform the first part of the spell.  Xander had had a somewhat tense conversation with the older vampire about learning to perform the spell himself, and tonight they would discuss whether this was indeed possible, but Xander privately felt that Angel wasn’t about to relinquish one of the few remaining connections to his grand-childe.

So, Xander had anticipated a little friction on that score, but nobody was prepared for the violent reaction of Angel when he came into contact with Spike for the first time that evening.  One moment it was a cordial hello, the next he was sweeping Spike aside with a fist gripping his throat, walloping him up against a far wall and snarling as his true visage won out.  Spike was initially too shocked to do anything but submit to the treatment, but Xander was there in a second, yanking Angel away from his partner and taking the opportunity to land what felt like a long overdue punch on the vampire’s jaw.

As Buffy leapt forward to prevent a continuation of the fracas, Xander moved to Spike and checked him over.

“What the hell was all that about?” Buffy demanded of her still-growling boyfriend.

“We need to talk,” Angel said coldly to Spike over her shoulder.

“If that’s how you’re gonna treat Spike you’ll keep away from him,” Xander matched the frigid tone, flexing a hand with gratifyingly sore knuckles that matched the blossoming bruise on Angel’s face.

“Hang on,” Spike protested, staring at Angel as if he’d gone completely insane.  He pointed a thumb in Buffy’s direction.  “What Buffy said?  Think we’re all waiting for the answer.”

“Privately.”

“No,” Xander snapped.

“It’s okay, love.  Really,” Spike insisted, still massaging his sore neck.  “He won’t surprise me twice.”

There was a charged pause before Angel gestured to the doorway and nodded at Spike.

“Spike, a stake,” Xander suggested without taking his eyes from Angel.

“Not in this house,” Willow told them firmly.  “Registered no slaughter zone.  You guys can use the study to talk, but if war breaks out I’ll turn you into two somethings that live under a rock.  Are we clear?”

“Perfectly,” Angel agreed with a suitable degree of respect.

With Angel ignoring Buffy’s suspicious glare, and Spike ignoring Xander’s tangible concern, the two vampires left the room.

“You have any idea?” Buffy asked Xander.

All Xander could think of was the ‘Xander as sire’ development but Angel had been the one to point that out, so…

“No.”

“I thought they’d been getting on well recently.”

“Me too.”

They both looked to Willow to see if she had any suggestions.  She held up her hands in a ‘don’t ask me’ gesture and retreated to the kitchen.  Exchanging another perplexed look, Xander and Buffy sat down to wait.

“Did you have to hit him?”

“Umm…yeah.”

Buffy thought about that.

“Okay.”

…

In the study Spike met his grand-sire glower for glower.

“You want to tell me what’s sent you doolally this time?”

“What have they done to you?”

“What have…  Which who?”

“How are you, Spike?” Angel enquired as he began a slow prowl, the simple question sounding heavily loaded.

“Fine.  What has who done to me?  Will you just explain what’s wrong?”

“Don’t you feel it?”

Spike heaved a pissed off sigh and waited for some sense to emerge, tensing as Angel came close enough to touch his cheek.

“Feel what?”

“The taint.  More than a taint.  Patrick.”

“Impossible.”

“You reek of him, Spike.”

“I’ve barely seen the man in weeks.”

“So what’s happened to you?”

Spike thought hard, trying to pin down any unusual occurrence that could explain a change in him that would trigger Angel’s defences so acutely.

“There was…”  Angel fell back into his prowl as he waited for Spike’s thought process to catch up with his words.  “I was hurt a while back, almost dusted.”  That brought Angel up sharply.  “We never figured out what got me, but I’d been out chasing demons, came back weak and in pain, coated in ash,” Spike explained with a mixture of way off hypothesis and fact.  “Patrick did come around after that.  Maybe…”  Spike shrugged  “…he helped me get over it.”

“You have no idea at all of what it was?”

“No.”

“Not something I sent you after?” Angel asked with genuine concern.

“Xander…”  The events of Seattle played out in Spike’s mind in a rush.  “Xander wasn’t feeling too well, so I left him to sleep and…  Maybe I was distracted and that’s how whatever it was got me.”

“You go back to take another look for it?”

“Wasn’t in a fit state to.”

“More recently?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Angel came close again, deeply inhaling the altered scent of his grand-childe.

“I’m losing you,” he whispered.  “Scrap by scrap.”

“No.  If Patrick did something, it would have been to prevent that happening, to stop Xander losing me, to stop any of you losing me.”

Closer still and Angel bent his head to Spike’s neck, nuzzling the cool skin before abandoning his human façade and making a slight nick with a single fang, cautiously tasting the tiny trickle of blood.  Spike wordlessly accepted the attention of his other sire, hoping this wouldn’t lead to another uncontrolled outburst.  Angel lapped at the minor wound until it sealed.

“Childe,” he murmured, and the touch of his lips made Spike shudder.

“I’m me then?” Spike confirmed with a smirk.  “Silly old sod.”

“Childe,” as Angel wrapped his hands around Spike’s skull, bringing his head forward to press a heavy kiss to his brow, tilting his face up to touch a lighter kiss to his mouth.

Spike jerked away.

“Don’t go all loving sire on me.  There are people in the next room who would appreciate that turn of events about as much as I would.”  Spike stretched out an arm and smugly jabbed a finger at Angel’s mottled chin, grinning at the pained flinch.  “Strong, isn’t he?”

“I can taste him in you.”

“Xander?  Well, of cour…”

“Patrick,” Angel snarled.

“Then I think he helped heal me.  He wouldn’t hurt me.”

“You know that?”

“I do.  He’s trying to protect me and Xander, d’know what from yet, but…”

“It doesn’t bother you?  That somehow he’s…contaminated you?”

Spike considered that.

“It doesn’t bother me at all,” he answered with complete honesty.  “We’re all on the same side here.”  Angel snorted contemptuously.  With a short laugh, Spike settled into Willow’s favourite armchair.  “Sit down.  Let me tell you what I – finally – remember.”

…

What felt like a very long time later the two vampires emerged to be met and drawn aside by their anxious partners.

“What’s that face for?” Spike smiled as he pinched Xander’s chin.  “We were only talking.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Always someone worrying.  If it’s not him it’s you.  What am I?  Made of glass?”

“Kinda,” Xander murmured as his fingertips ran over the healing cut on Spike’s neck.  “Were you okay with this?”

Spike nodded and pulled Xander tight to him, mouth to Xander’s ear.

“We’ll go out now, get the spell over with.  Until it’s done you behave.  No more thumping him, however much you enjoyed it.”

“I—”  Xander cut short the protestation.  “Did,” he admitted to Spike with a cheeky grin.

“That’s my honey,” Spike said proudly, giving him a quick kiss.

They turned to where Buffy and Angel were still in quiet conversation and Willow was waiting patiently for an explanation of tonight’s extraordinary behaviour.

“Demonic tiff,” Spike told her breezily.  “Right, we’re off.  With us?” he directed at Angel, receiving a nod in reply.

“Patrolling?” Buffy asked, reaching for her coat.

“Family business,” Spike answered for Angel, the unwelcoming tone of his voice stopping her in her tracks.

“And Xander’s going with you?”

“Well, he’s family, isn’t he?”

Buffy’s expression became forlorn.

“I’m not family?”

Spike pulled Xander’s collar aside to reveal the consort scar.

“I’ll show you his if you’ll show me…”

“Spike, pack it in,” Xander told him as he shrugged the vampire off and covered the scar.  He smiled apologetically at Buffy’s sad face and wished they could be honest.  “Just…guy stuff.”

“Guy stuff,” she repeated with an unconvincing lightness.  “Well then, go…be guys.”  Her eyes flickered over to Angel and Spike and back; she dropped her voice.  “Take care.”

…

Xander was surprised when it became obvious where they were headed, the Merc eventually following Angel’s convertible along Crawford Street and parking in the mansion’s drive.

“Angel still owns this place?”

“I think he had it done up a bit when it looked like he might move back here to be with Buffy.”

“I thought the plan was for Buffy to go live in LA.”

“It is.”

“When?”

“No idea.  Taking eight years to get a kiss off you seems rash and impetuous compared to them.”

“Eight years,” Xander grinned.  “Think we’ve made up for it?”

Spike dragged Xander across the car into his lap and gave him a thorough smooching.

“Getting there.”

A brisk knock on the window drew their attention; they opened the passenger door and practically fell out of the car, scrambling to their feet and somehow managing to remain hand-in-hand while doing so.

“Ready?” Angel asked.

“Just finding the right frame of mind: y’know, the condemned man ate a hearty…”

“Contracts Manager,” Xander finished for him.

Angel turned and walked away, throwing…

“Did you warn Xander about the spell?”

…over his shoulder.

“What?  What about the spell?  What haven’t you told me?”

“After-effects,” Spike explained grimly. “I paint my balls green, run around naked except for a pith helmet and stilettos, and sing dodgy nineteen-seventies mullet-rock.”

“Spike…”

“Don’t fuss, love.”

“Angel?”

“Meat Loaf.”

“Wha…?”

Xander rolled his eyes, swatted the closest vampire – luckily his own – and charily followed them into the mansion.

“This place looks pretty good,” Xander ventured to an unimpressed Angel.  “Any chance you’ll be moving back here?”

“No.  Buffy’s moving to LA.”

“When?” Xander enquired for the second time in an hour.  Angel shrugged, scowled, and trudged off with a velvet bag of spell implements and an air of deep brooding.  “Think I said the wrong thing.”

“Xander Harris?  Put his foot in it?  Never,” Spike smirked.

“Less smiling, more explaining.  This spell: what should you have warned me about?”

“Warned is a little excessive.”

“Tell me or I’ll drag you out of here by something delicate.”

“It…  Hurts.  A bit.  The spell hurts.”

“A bit,” Xander repeated incredulously.  “Such a bit that Angel thinks I need to be warned.”

“Why don’t you go back to Red’s and I’ll join you when it’s all done.”

“Oh, yeah, leave you here in pain, that is so my style.  When the fuck were you going to tell me?”

“Look,” Spike said, sharper now, “there’s no danger, it’s not the brain-melting procedure, it’s just a spell, and it hurts, and it’s soon over, and I’m safe.”

Xander abruptly pulled Spike into a bear hug.

“Why does everything have to hurt?” he whispered as one hand cradled the area of skull that housed the technological abomination.  “How about we go and live a thousand miles away from the nearest human, no worries about the chip, no…”

Angel’s voice reverberated along the corridor, calling for his grand-childe.

“Yes, all right!” Spike shouted back before returning his attention to Xander with a resigned sigh.  “The demons who created this spell hate vampires.  Course it’s going to hurt.”

“That’s…”

“Worth it.  See me complaining?”

“I hate this.”

“Go back to Willow’s, love.”

“You know I can’t.”

“Then…concentrate on me being safe.”

“Spike…”

“Oh, baby you're the only thing in this whole world,
That's pure and good and right,”

Spike sang as he walked backwards along the corridor, leading Xander by both hands.

“And wherever you are and wherever you go,
There's always gonna be some light…”

The application of the spell was, unlike its creation, a simple procedure, and Xander watched the preparations with interest.  Symbol on the floor in a dark powder that he mentally noted the name of, a circle of crystals for both power and protection, Spike sitting within both, a chalice before him that released a stinking mist as the ingredients he dropped into the flames burned.  Angel muttered a few strings of nonsensical words, and Spike was enveloped by the mist.  A few more words and the mist concentrated on the site over the chip, appearing solid and slick for a moment before apparently seeping into Spike’s skull.

Xander was already feeling queasy as he saw the invasion of his lover’s body, but as Spike suddenly roared in pain and clutched his head it was all he could do to stop himself leaping into the circle in a futile attempt to help the vampire.  An automatic step forward and Angel’s hand came out to prevent further encroachment.

“A few more minutes and this stage is done.  Don’t disrupt it or we’ll have to start again when Spike recovers.”

“Just a few more minutes of this?” Xander confirmed.

“No.  The spell will be over, the pain goes on for a while.”

Spike screamed again, writhing and bucking in agony, and Xander took another step, leaning against the hand that restrained him.

“How long is a while?”

“A little more than an hour.”

“He can’t…”

“He can and he does.”

“This is as bad as the chip.  This is worse.  How can there not be permanent damage if he keeps doing this?”

No answer; Angel was preoccupied with carrying out the final step of the spell, a few words that drew the mass from Spike’s head and sent it splattering back into the chalice, where it returned to its misty form and evaporated into the air.

“We’re done, Spike,” Angel said quietly.

Spike was scrunched into a agonised ball on the floor, but a couple of fingers twitched in recognition, such a fragile gesture that it brought tears rushing to Xander’s eyes.  Minutes passed and Spike jerkily unfurled, every movement unmistakably bringing more pain.

“Can I go to him now?”

“I’ve tried before.  He won’t let you near him.”

“No,” Xander disagreed.  “He won’t let you near him.”  And Xander crossed to Spike, kneeling and bowing close without physically touching.  “I’m here, Spike.  I’m here if you need me.”  The blond head shakily turned and bloodshot eyes attempted to focus.  “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Love,” came the gruff reply.

“Can I hold you?”

Xander shuffled into a sustainable position, back propped against a wall, as Spike began the slow, slow process of crawling to him and climbing into his lap, keening with the pain of simply existing, collapsing into Xander’s embrace with a raw groan.

“Safe,” he reminded them both when he was able to speak again.

“That’s right,” Xander said, fighting his way through all the over-protective objections to this procedure that battled to emerge.  “Safe.”

Angel joined them, settling on the floor several feet away.

“He will be okay?” Xander asked, not sounding quite as resolute as he’d have liked.

“Yes.  It’s just a little…shocking the first time you see this.”

“You can still be shocked?”

“You’d be surprised.”

They sat in silence for a while.

“You don’t have to stay,” Xander eventually told Angel.

“I’m not sure how Spike will be when he’s recovered.” 

“He won’t hurt me.”

“He could be quite disoriented.”

“The spell isn’t even completed yet.”

“Regardless of the spell, he could be…”

“He won’t hurt me,” Xander insisted.

“How can you be so sure of that?”

“The chip doesn’t work too well where I’m concerned.  If he wanted to hurt me I’d know by now.”

“These are different circumstances, Xander.”

“Look, I know what happened after the spell was first used, and I also know that if I’d been there I wouldn’t have been in danger.”  Pause.  “You can go.”

“I’d rather not.”

After the requisite glare and sigh they sat in silence for a while longer.

“Spike said you know about the men who attacked you.”

“Yeah.  I’m hoping I know everything about everything now.  I’m sick of surprises.”

“You okay with what he did?”

“It’s like blowing up the Initiative.  These were bad people, they’d’ve killed someone eventually.  Try as I might I can’t find anything wrong or evil in wanting justice.  And sometimes…sometimes being the bigger person just doesn’t cut it.”  A stilted moan came from Spike as he shifted to get impossibly closer to Xander’s warmth.  “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Cold.”

Xander looked around: there was nothing to cover Spike with to retain any of the heat he was drawing from Xander.  After a few seconds Angel took off his coat and draped it over Spike.  Xander gently altered the angle of Spike’s head, bringing the vampire’s mouth to his neck.

“Take some blood, that’ll warm you.”

Spike acted without a second’s hesitation, morphing creakily into game face and sinking his fangs into Xander’s flesh; Xander held him in place, eyes closing in rapture at the sensation of Spike penetrating his body.  Angel observed, transfixed, jaw loose, hovering between human and demonic features as the scent of blood and lust hit him, and at the first distinct swallow, he rose and hurriedly went about gathering the spell implements together; Xander listened, aware that what he’d just done was provocative, possibly very hazardous, most probably pretty mean, but it had been instinctive not foolhardy or malicious.  And if anyone had told him he’d ever be prepared to let Spike drink his blood in Angel’s presence, he’d have laughed in their face, but the necessity of this tugged at his heart, at his gut.  The mind was redundant.

Spike remained harmlessly attached to Xander’s neck for most of the hour it took for the spell’s effects to subside.  As the pain decreased a purr broke out, and Xander smiled and felt every muscle in his body finally begin to loosen up, hands sweeping over Spike’s limbs to create some heat.  He eventually looked to the far side of the room where Angel patiently waited for progress, surprised to find the older vampire viewing him fondly.  Xander looked a question.

“It’s a long time since the Order of Aurelius knew fresh blood,” Angel explained.  “As in consort, not feast.”

“You still think Spike got it right?”

“I know so.”

Angel gave Xander a rare unguarded smile, and at that moment the human was extremely and humbly grateful that Angel had never known of the whole ‘fly to LA and stake grandpa’ plan.

“Is there some ceremony that goes with the honour?”

Xander mentally slapped himself on the back as he saw Angel swell with pride at his words, at the suggestion that inclusion in the Order was an honour worth formally acknowledging.  Angel strode to him and knelt on one knee beside him, leaning forward to kiss him on the forehead.

“Welcome to the family,” Angel said with that same smile.

“That it?” Xander grinned.

“Unless you want to go with one of those acts of obscenity the early Watchers fabricated to keep themselves amused.”

Xander pulled a telling face and Angel chuckled, sitting down and rubbing a hand over Spike’s coat-clad shoulder.

“Mmm?” emerged through the purring.

“How’s that?”  Xander laughed softly.  “He can harmonise with himself.”

“How are you feeling, Spike?”

This time it was a growl that emerged as Spike reluctantly roused himself, releasing Xander’s neck and licking for a moment before peering at Angel over the collar of the coat.

“Good.  Warm.  Horny.  Bugger off, will you, and let me have some time with the consort.”

“Xander’s your consort now?  Ten minutes ago he was, without doubt, your sire.”

“Sire,” was hissed as grumpy Spike disappeared in an instant, Xander finding himself with the vampire at his throat again, tongue probing the damaged skin as the purr re-emerged.

“How does it feel to have a childe?” Angel enquired, trying his best to sound unaffected by the subject.

“Strange.  I guess I’ll get used to it in time.”  Xander paused awkwardly.  “You mad about it?”

“Mad, no.  Confounded, some.”  Angel fell silent for a few minutes, staring at Spike’s scruffy boots poking out from beneath the pristine coat.  When he met Xander’s eyes again, Xander could feel the sorrow before a word was spoken.  “I’m…bereaved.”

“I’m sorry.  And I’m sorry I screwed up.”

“It was never within your control, and by not understanding what was happening you may have done yourself a favour.  Denying the demon would have made things worse rather than better.”

“I never meant for anything like this to happen.  I was glad the two of you had worked out your differences, happy that you’d both found something you needed.”  Angel simply nodded.  “Maybe this is better,” Xander continued.  “You can be friends, together as equals and by choice.  My own experience says the family you choose is way better than the one you have inflicted on you by biology.”

Xander gasped sharply and curled around Spike as the vampire sank his teeth back into the healing wound.

“Want you,” came words muffled by Xander’s neck.

“Not – not now,” Xander laughed, squirming to free himself of wandering hands.  “Spike!  Guess you’re fine.  Spike, stop it!”

Spike rose in one flowing movement, pushing his arms into the coat and sweeping to the centre of the room, spinning back without the expected whirl of leather and looking down perplexedly at himself and his multiple layers.

“This isn’t right.”

Angel got up and retrieved his coat, peeling it from Spike’s shoulders and shrugging it onto his own as Spike returned to Xander, yanking him from the floor and into a hug.  Xander was aware of Angel keeping a close eye on his exuberant grand-childe, and couldn’t imagine the older vampire encouraging Spike to kill and maim.  But Xander wasn’t just any disposable human, he was consort; suddenly he felt exceptionally special and hugged Spike back with new vigour.

“Glad you’re okay.”

“Told you so.”  He kissed Xander soundly.  “Let’s get out of here, find somewhere to park up and…”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure Angel needs all the back seat details,” Xander endeavoured to quieten his partner.  “Here: keys.  Go start the car.”

Spike bounded on ahead and Xander shared a contented look with Angel before they followed at a more leisurely pace, Xander breaking into laughter as a tuneful…

“Like a bat out of hell I'll be gone when the morning comes.
“When the night is over, like a bat out of hell, I'll be gone, gone, gone…”

.…rang back along the corridor.

“Have you decided if you want to carry out the spell for yourself in future?” Angel asked.

“Yeah.  And no.  I can’t do it.  Doesn’t matter how philosophical I am about the necessity of it, I know I won’t be able to do something that brings Spike that kind of pain.  I’ve never got over…over…cleaning him.”  Even now Xander’s stomach heaved at the euphemism and the memories tucked away behind it; he was glad of the sympathy on Angel’s face.  “I’d like the know-how in case of emergency, then Max could do it, but…  You do this for him.  I want you to do this for him.  You make him safe.  It’s more important than any title.”

“You trust me?”

In light of recent suspicions and imaginings it was quite a question.  But Xander knew the answer, and it felt good to know.

“I do.”

Mid-stroll, Angel unexpectedly threw an arm around Xander’s shoulders; as he experienced the vampire’s strength rippling through the contact, Xander felt admiration rather than fear, and he knew the vamp-phobic boy of the past was truly dead and gone.  He took a sideways glance at his grandpa’s serene features and proudly considered his place within the Order of Aurelius.

…

They arrived back at Willow’s in the early hours, Xander letting them in with the key he’d been given, not really surprised to find that Willow and Buffy were waiting up for them, or that Angel had taken off on his own for a while.  As Spike went upstairs to change out of clothes that stank of the spell’s ingredients, Xander went straight to the kitchen to heat up blood and make coffee.  Willow came to keep him company, sitting on the counter behind him, passing on Dawn’s love and the message that she and Craig would see them on Sunday.

“Guess she got a life, huh?”

“She got a life,” Willow sighed.

Xander remembered the twins Willow had been seeing; he wanted to ask but didn’t want to ask.  Finally his nosiness won out.  He tried to make the enquiry sound casual.

“So…  How are Brent and Lena?  Still around?”

“Not still around, no.”

Pause.

“What, you want me to batter the details out of you with the milk carton?”

“They got jealous of one another,” Willow admitted with a resigned expression.  “‘Cause it was one or the other, individually, never both, despite what Spike undoubtedly thought, and they couldn’t cope with that.  And I couldn’t cope with them not coping with that.  Didn’t work out.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not, it was fun while it lasted.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t, Xander.  I’m perfectly happy as I am, you know that.”  The look Xander sent her way shot that down in flames.  “Okay, imperfectly happy.”  She brightened.  “Oz will be back soon and…”

“You’ll get to use him again.  Lucky Oz.”

“He can say no.  In fact he does.  And probably will again.”

“I’d be sorry about that if I thought you really wanted him.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

“But why not Oz?” Xander demanded impatiently.  “He’s a great guy, he’s smart, he’s…”

“In danger every time the moon’s full, despite what control he may or may not have, and I can’t be in love with someone who could be dead and gone…”

“Okay, okay, shouldn’t have brought it up.  Sorry.”

Xander put all the mugs onto a tray and Willow followed him through to the living room.

“Don’t feel sad for me, ‘cause I’m not sad.  We can’t all be as lucky as you, finding the hot boyfriend with the pretty face and the…”  As he put the tray down, Willow finally noticed Xander’s neck.  “…big teeth.”

“Big teeth?” Buffy repeated, head swivelling from the direction of the TV.  Her eyes went huge when she saw the bite on Xander’s neck and she shot to her feet.  “Xander!”

“What?”

“Your…”

She rushed over to join Willow and Xander found himself being intently scrutinised.  He flinched as Willow’s fingers carefully prodded around the inflamed bite mark.

“This looks terrible; whatever possessed you?”

“Considering past experiences, you may want to rephrase that question.”

“Spike did this?” Willow asked.  Xander nodded, unperturbed by the fuss.  “But why?”

Buffy spun toward the door as Spike, with extraordinarily bad timing, chose that moment to enter the room.

“You’d better have a damn good explanation,” she told him furiously.  “I thought you cared about Xander.”

“I do, you know I do.  What is this about?”

“Look at the damage you’ve done!  He’s supposed to be your boyfriend, not a midnight snack!”

“Calm down, Buffy,” Xander said wearily, “this is nothing.”

Spike started to cross to Xander to take a better look at the cause of the concern; Buffy stepped in his way, bristling with protective anger.

“Leave him alone.”

“Don’t interfere in things you don’t understand,” Xander said as he skirted both worried women and went to his partner.  “Not that bad, is it?”

He tilted his head for Spike to get a better look; Spike automatically put his mouth to the bite, intending to lick it and help Xander heal.  Neither of them were expecting Spike to be yanked away and tossed across the room.

“Buffy!” Xander screeched, swiftly putting himself between the angry slayer and his partner.  “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“With me?  Find a mirror, Xander, see what he…”

“Want to know how this happened?” Xander challenged as he offered a hand and pulled Spike to his feet, ignoring the warning that flashed in the vampire’s eyes because there was no way he was about to reveal anything about the spell.  “The minute Angel left us we were in the back of the car.  Fucking.  No danger, just fucking.  And this…”  Xander swung around to face Buffy, gesturing to the wound.  “This feels good.  Better than good.  And I’m the one who keeps demanding it.  You’d understand if you gave Angel a fraction of what he really needs.”

“You don’t know the first thing about my relationship with Angel.”

“Whereas you know enough about me and Spike to stand in judgement?”

“Xander, you shouldn’t…”

“Don’t defend her,” Xander warned Spike.  “It’s by choice that she doesn’t understand the principles or pleasures of being consort.  She’s turning on you through ignorance and that is so far beyond acceptable.”

“No judgement.  I just didn’t want you hurt,” Buffy persisted, before adding wryly to herself: “Even though I can’t remember why right now.”

“I felt sorry for you earlier, the way you felt left out.  But you are out, Buffy.  When it comes to this you’ve put yourself on the outside.  And you can pull whatever faces you like when you look at my neck, or think of what I do with my boyfriend; at least I have the courage to take what I want.  You can’t even…make the move to LA.”

“That really has nothing to do with you,” Buffy told him awkwardly, unable to prevent a glance flitting in Spike’s direction.

“That’s still how it works?  Everything is your business but nothing is mine?”

“Nothing to do with you as in…  I don’t expect you to care about…”

“You…what!  I have never stopped caring and, whatever has happened between us in the past, I don’t believe I have to convince you of that.  You’re a damn sight easier to love than like sometimes, but now: both.  I’ve always cared and I care desperately now.  It’s not me you should be worrying about.  You have to get away from here.”

“I didn’t—  Xander…  No.”

“You can say what you like,” Spike told her with an artfully played lack of concern.  “I won’t be repeating it.”

“Is that it?” Xander frowned.  “‘Cause, if you have concerns over Angel, you don’t take it out on Spike.  I trust Spike, that has to be good enough for you.”

“I don’t have concerns over…”

“Fine.  That’s fine.  So…  When was the last time you were happy?”

“We were talking about you.”

“Okay.  Me.  I have a fantastic life, Buffy, you don’t have to worry about me.  I have a great job, several great families, a great home.  I have the best person to love that I could imagine in my life, and I have willingly embraced everything about him, bites to bedsteads, so I’m not the one to worry about.”  Xander paused momentarily for breath and…compassion.  “That’s me.  Now let’s talk about you.”  For the second time in a few hours Buffy’s sorrowful expression went straight to Xander’s heart.  A few fast steps and he was close enough to draw her to him in a fierce hug.  “There’s more to life than guarding the Hellmouth.  More to life than learning to kill, and planning to kill, and having to kill.  You owe it to yourself to get away from this place, it’s sucking every last drop of joy out of you.”

“I can’t go,” she confided after a few minutes of welcome contact.

“Why not?”

“Dawn won’t leave without Craig, and he won’t leave his job, not yet.”

“Then go without her.”

“I can’t do that, I can’t go.”

“Yes, you can.  We all can.  I proved that.”

“It was different for you, you didn’t have the same ties.”

“I left the only real family I’d ever known,” Xander said softly, clamping down on a surge of emotions as he met Spike’s sympathetic eyes.  “I left the person I was in love with.”  Buffy’s hold tightened comfortingly at that.  “However hard it is, you have to live your own life, Buffy, do what you need.  You and Angel deserve this time.”  Xander felt Buffy shake her head and leant back slightly so he could look at her.  “You’re destroying my rep as a trouble-shooter.  Willow won’t take any of my advice so you’re supposed to even up the score.”

Buffy gave him a watery smile.

“We don’t always get what we want.”

“Yeah, but I should,” Xander knowingly whined.  “Birthday boy.”

“You have no choice, Buffy,” Spike pointed out with a self-satisfied smile.  “Explain about the Order, love.”

“Hey, that’s right,” Xander grinned.  “You have to do what I say.  It’s how it goes: the Order of Aurelius, I’ve been learning about it.  I’m an acknowledged consort, marked and claimed.  You’re unmarked, unclaimed, and that makes you…”  Xander’s grin widened.  “…kind of a…pet.”

“You were less annoying when you were mad and abusive.  Can we go back to that?”

“Buffy…  Say, ‘Sorry, Spike’.”

Buffy unhesitatingly turned the miserable smile on Spike.

“Sorry, Spike.”

“Sweet Fucking Jesus, I’ve jumped to another reality.”

“And think about the move.”

“I do.  All the time.  But how can I leave Dawn?”

Willow came up behind Buffy and wrapped her arms as far around the two of them as she could manage.

“You can leave Dawn because you did a great job of bringing her up to understand about staying safe,” Willow assured Buffy.  “When was the last time you had to save her?”

“A while back,” Buffy accepted with a sigh.  “But…”

“Nuh!”

“Dawn…”

“Uh!”

“She…”

“Ah!”

“You won’t win.  He has a massive range of noises specially designed to stop a body getting a word in edgeways,” Spike nonchalantly explained as he passed them, mug in hand and pretending he was going for more blood rather than leaving them to the kind of moment that rammed home why he would never fit seamlessly into this particular area of Xander’s life.

…

“Hey,” Xander said softly as he joined Spike in their bedroom.  “You disappeared.”

Spike put aside his book and removed his glasses.

“Thought you might like the touchy feely moment to be spectator-free.”

“Didn’t you feel comfortable with it?”

Spike suddenly found the scoring of the sheet with his thumbnail to be fascinating.

“D’know.  I s’pose not.  Get jealous, maybe, sharing you.”

A light laugh came from Xander as he began to strip off.

“No need to be jealous, you know I’m all yours.  Surely you don’t begrudge them a few crumbs?”

“Well…yes.”

“I guess I’m supposed to say something earth-shatteringly mature here, but…  Yeah, I’m the same if you spend time with anyone else.  Even if you’re just on the phone.  I encourage you then resent every second your attention is on anyone other than me.”

Naked now, Xander stretched his body, reaching for the ceiling, listening to the inner creaks and pops as every joint and sinew was persuaded to loosen.  Spike observed his lover with the usual appreciation, visually tracing the defined muscles that announced Xander had been working out again, honing his body under the misapprehension that his appearance influenced Spike’s level of desire for him.

“You’re so lovely,” Spike murmured.

Xander slumped out of the vertical stretch and dropped onto the bed for the horizontal variety.

“You think?”

“I know.”

Kicking the covers off, Spike threw himself over Xander’s body, suckling the healing bite mark until Xander was panting and squirming, hard and desperate for his vampire to fill him.  Easily achieved after their session in the Merc, and Spike was soon deep inside the welcoming body, fucking with frantic abandon as he re-established his ownership and smothered the lingering fragrance of Xander’s women with distinctive masculine scent.

A possessive growl and Xander opened his eyes to meet those of the demon.  The heat was seriously turned up.  Spike surprised Xander by guiding his mouth to the claimant’s scar and encouraging the bite, the blood-letting, each of them claiming and claimed.  Spike paused as Xander drank, but after a couple of swallows resumed the frenzied pace of their rutting.  With endless gasps of arousal Xander arched his body into the bombardment, strengthened by the blood yet weakened and overwhelmed by the speed and strength of Spike’s strokes, completely devoting himself to accommodating the lustful onslaught that kept him helplessly coming and coming.

“Mine, mine, mine,” emerged as a continuous drone, Spike reminding and reminded as he soared toward his own release, dependent on one breathless word from his mate.

“Yours.”

Repossession 105       Repossession Index       Repossession Notes

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