Xander had decided pretty quickly that he wasn’t into physical torture.  His nausea-centric reaction to Samuel’s account of Spike’s punishment of Severt, Wiesner and Dreiling should have spelt it out, but no.  Xander had waited until tonight to have it unequivocally confirmed.

Angel had known from the start that this was about answers for Xander, not hands-on retribution.  He’d encouraged Xander to share in taunting and tormenting the soldier, the minor wounding that led to the majorly significant placement of the dog tags, but had guided him away from the bodily harm, certainly refused to let Xander damage the other human badly in a fit of rage.  Angel had offered whispered explanations: he knew the pain of living with a heavy conscience, and he refused to let Xander do anything that would mean he couldn’t live with his own.  By the time Riley died, Xander’s personal principles might be battered and bruised but, with a suitable amount of appreciation and TLC from Spike, they would recover.

Xander witnessed moments.  Not-so-random moments that Angel wanted relayed to Spike, the kind of recollected trinkets that Spike would thoroughly enjoy adorning his revised memories of Riley Finn with.

…

Waiting outside the incinerator, Xander laid on the hood of the T-bird, letting his stomach settle and studying the stars.  Every time he thought back over the past few hours he shuddered.

“Wow.  Scary Grandpa,” emerged time and again, Xander proud of, grateful to, often more than a little scared of the vampire.

But never as scared as Riley Finn was.

Another shudder and Xander reached for and switched on his cell phone, calling home and hearing less than one ring before Spike was demanding to know if he was all right.

“I’m okay, I promise you I’m okay.”

“Where are you?”

“I’ll explain later.

“Xander…”

“Don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not—  I’m worried mad, that’s all.  Not mad mad.”

“Look, why don’t you go out and beat on something, I’ll be home in a couple of hours maybe, and…”

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I am, nothing to worry about, you’ll understand soon, I promise.”

“Hurry, eh?”

“I love you, Spike.  Love you so much.”

“Yeah, I…  Just…come home,” Xander could hear the concerned frown and smiled affectionately.

“Home soon, and it will all make sense.  Can’t wait to see you.”  Xander spotted movement out of the corner of his eye.  “I have to go.”

“Xander…”

“I’ll be there soon, sweetheart.  Bye.”

Xander ended the call, feeling guiltier over cutting Spike off than cutting Riley open.  Angel strode out of the building’s entrance, still displaying his demonic features, licking the blood from his lips as he joined Xander.

“It’s over,” Angel informed him, eyes gleaming with pleasure.

“Was it good for you?” Xander asked with a subdued laugh at the manic expression.

“Good for me,” Angel confirmed with a vicious smile courtesy of those deadly fangs.

“Hey, don’t look now, but I think your Angelus is showing.”

“Taste Finn’s blood?  Complete your Rite of Vengeance?”  Xander smirked at the seductive tone of Angel’s voice, casually sliding from the T-bird’s hood and walking to the passenger door.  “Xander?” Angel purred, silently moving to within inches of the human, close enough to raise the hairs on the back of Xander’s neck.  Untroubled by the proximity, Xander turned, coming nose-to-nose with the hyped vampire.

“Why, Grandpa, what big teeth you have,” Xander smiled.

Angel’s features melted back to human.

“Taste him.”

Xander debated the next course of action.  It pretty much boiled down to, a) one heartily delivered fuck off, or b) kissing the vampire responsible for slaughtering the fucker who’d given up Spike, and fulfilling the Rite of Vengeance by sampling aforementioned fucker’s blood.  Despite who the vampire in question was, despite the fact he’d apparently manoeuvred the situation to this conclusion, there was little argument.  Xander was extraordinarily thankful and this was a small price to pay.  Infinitesimal if it was for Spike.  Fixing his focus on Angel’s blood-tinged mouth, definitely not wanting to meet the vampire’s eyes, he pulled himself to his (necessary) full height, tilted his head and leant in, accepting the coppery chill of these lips far more easily than he had, long ago, the wine-flavoured warmth of Christien Haakon’s.  Pointless being coy: his tongue was given easy access, and as it was flooded with the flavour of Riley Finn’s blood Xander felt a hand clutching the back of his head, holding him in place as Angel turned this gesture into an actual kiss.  Xander tolerated it for all of five seconds then gently, inoffensively broke away.

“Thank you for your intervention, Sire,” Xander concluded formally, bowing his head to Angel, smiling when he felt the kiss pressed into his hair.

“For my childe,” Angel murmured.  “For his honoured consort.”

A moment of stillness and understanding passed before Angel reached out to take Xander’s right hand, raising it and licking the damage to the knuckles, using his saliva to help them heal.  Xander let him, without reservation but with a tolerant smile: the good childe accepting his sire’s care.

“You know what you were telling me?  About the new Initiative?”  Angel nodded for Xander to continue.  “Are we safe?  For now, are we safe?”

Angel’s head came up and their eyes met.

“You are.  And now their plans are becoming common knowledge within the demon community, you’re safer still.  Amazingly, they’ve done what constant negotiation and conspiring could never achieve: brought together demonic clans and races that have been at each others’ throats for centuries.”

“We need to tell Giles.  About the soldiers, not the demons.  Giles promised Spike it would never happen again, he has to be right.”

“I’ll let him know exactly what’s going on.”

“And maybe you should tell him about the demons too.  Just in case we’re looking at potential hell on Earth.”

“Okay.”

“What happened to the rest of them?  Riley’s quasi-Initiative?”

“I heard they experienced a problem with the water supply.  Some kind of contamination that left them either dead, or wishing they were.”

For a moment Xander was silent, deep in troubled thought.  He stared at the furnace with a glazed expression as Angel went back to paying what had to be excessive attention to Xander’s hand.

“What happened to him?  To Riley?  What did they do to him?  He was…  There was coldness about him, an emptiness.  D’you think…  D’you think that the Initiative…  Is it possible to chemically extract a man’s conscience?”

“I expect their doctors are capable of anything.”

“See, I—”  Xander gave a soft laugh as Angel suckled harder and began to purr.  “You can break the skin if you want to.  But just a taste.”

Angel didn’t even pretend to think that over, turning Xander’s hand and piercing the heel of his thumb with a single fang, not drawing at all, merely lapping up the resultant trickle of blood.  Xander had braced himself for the effect Spike’s bites had, but there was nothing other than a mild flutter through his system.

“Childe,” murmured the vampire, which made Xander wonder if he could taste Spike in his blood.  But thoughts of Spike led back to thoughts of Riley Finn.

“I liked Riley once upon a time.  I knew him when he was a nice guy.  Well, nicer, before…  I don’t really understand.”

“How someone can change so much?”

“So much.”

“Like…you did, for instance?”

“But I…  The changes in me have all been about Spike, about having Spike.”

“The way Spike tells it, most of the changes in you came about when you thought you’d lost him.”

Xander considered that.

“And Riley lost.  Kept losing.  The Initiative damaged him, Angel, the way they damaged whoever they came in contact with.  He became a monster.”

“And he’s paid the price.  Go home, Xander, share the Rite with Spike, and then forget Riley Finn.  This chapter is finally closed.”

As Angel climbed behind the wheel of the T-bird, Xander’s attention wandered back to the incinerator and its contents, and a niggling urge finally powered up and raged.

“Do you have any spare gas?”

“In the trunk.”

Minutes later, Xander re-entered the furnace area, groped his way to the control room and the lights, steeling himself to face what was left of Riley.  But Angel had left the soldier’s corpse in a classic position of sedate funereal repose, laid out on his broken back, eyelids closed over ruined eyes, peeled arms crossed over the bite-pocked chest.  It was if he’d known Xander would return; for a monster, Angel could be surprisingly sensitive.  Xander emptied the gas container over Riley, then took out the pictures Spike had drawn, laying them along the body.

Xander lit the entire matchbook that Angel had found in the car’s glove compartment, standing holding it over his…  Sacrifice.  …one-time friend, grasping after a strange unrecognisable reference, an elusive word that flitted repeatedly through his mind as he prepared to ignite the gas.

“Goodbye, Riley,” he whispered, unable to think of a single other thing to say to the man who had introduced Spike to hell.

He dropped the matchbook, taking several steps back as the accelerant whoomphed into flames, destroying the pictures first.  It was a thrill to see the fire consume the records of that terrible time, and Xander held open his arms in mindless worship, oblivious to the heat and smoke and stench, lips moving in silent tribute to something he had no conscious knowledge of.

He would never know that Patrick’s strength was drained at that utterance, leaving the man weeping and shuddering in loss and fear; he would never know that Cedar House sounded like it was breaking into pieces, sending Spike out onto the driveway to discover the light show as the ward lit up like a firework display; he would never know that Hamish raced to his bolthole in the woods, this bravest of creatures throwing back its head and filling the night with terrified howls.

Xander was barely aware of Angel’s grip on his arm and around his waist as he was dragged away from the pyre.  Then he was back on the hood of the car, smiling into Angel’s frowning face.

“I’m okay,” he said lightly.  “Great.  I’m great.”

“What was that about?”

“I…  I just…  Wanted to.  I needed to burn the pictures.  It was…symbolic.”

“Symbolic?”

“Symbolic.”  Xander’s grin widened.

Angel cupped Xander’s face in his hands, stared into the crystal-clear eyes.

“Spike told me that there was a darkness about you now.  I didn’t believe him.  I thought you were incorruptible.  Even after you asked me – told me – to get rid of the Initiative.”

Xander shook the hands off, stood and stretched.

“Incorruptible?  That was another guy.  Another life.  Something I’ve learnt about myself: where Spike’s concerned I can be manic and vindictive and heartless.  And you know what?  I don’t give a damn.”

“I like you like this.”

“Me too.”

“And I like what we’ve done.”

“Yeah.”  Xander blew Angel a kiss as he walked to the T-bird’s passenger door.  “It’s all about the warm and fuzzies.”

…

The journey back to pick up Xander’s Merc was nothing like the tense, silent trip out to the incinerator.  Airtime was basically given over to one of Angel’s necessary lectures, bizarrely interspersed by some of the worst jokes Xander had ever heard, and loudly punctuated by their sporadic need to join in with the radio; occasionally the collision of flat notes and sharp notes blended to approximate the note they were looking for, which, they acknowledged, was a novel experience for both of them.

Xander had Angel drop him off just along the street from the Partnership’s building, deciding to walk back to the Merc and hope that anyone seeing him would assume he’d been out on the town and was only just collecting his car.  A perfectly natural occurrence, more so back in the pre-Spike era, but not unheard of nowadays.

Their farewell was…interesting.  After all they’d shared there still managed to be a strained atmosphere between them when normality kicked in.  And maybe that was a good thing.  Another perfectly natural occurrence.

…

Home.  Xander wasn’t in the mood for any nonsense and gave the Fan and Death Wish Club members seconds to clear his path before they were mown down.  The vampires were strangely obliging, scattering at speed, and it didn’t take long for Xander to realise that, even through the shell of the car, he stank of Angel.  Angelus?  He wondered about Spike’s reaction, if he would be so enraged by Xander being covered in another vampire’s scent that he’d go berserk before the opportunity to explain arose.  Pointless worrying about it, Xander worried.

No sign of Spike when Xander parked up, which usually meant he was waiting inside to bawl Xander out – not something he’d do in front of the other vampires – and Xander accepted that, knowing Spike would be justifiably angry about his consort disappearing for so long and then being less than forthcoming on the phone.  Xander took a few deep breaths in a bid to calm his pounding heart, assured himself he implicitly trusted in what Angel had told him, and entered the house.

‘You have to do something for me.’

‘So long as it doesn’t involve dropping to my knees.’

‘Funny you should say that.’

Xander walked into the living room, reeking of Riley’s blood, of Angel from where they’d been touching all night, of burning corpse.  Spike stood as Xander approached, mouth opening to begin his tirade but when the smell hit him he stalled, wide-eyed in horror and amazement.

‘At this point you need to be consort not sire.  If you give him this as sire, you’ll make him even more beholden and dependent, he’ll never get any stronger.  So, consort.  You’ve dominated Spike’s enemy, he’ll need to dominate you to dominate Finn by proxy.  Get on your knees, offer him the token.’

‘Are there words?’

‘The ritual should be performed in silence until he formally accepts your gift.  But I guess, as it’s Spike we’re dealing with…’

Xander knelt before Spike, cupped hands offering the blooded dog tags that Angel had reclaimed from the corpse.  Spike stared at them for what felt like an interminably long time to Xander.  Then, with a flicker, their eyes met, and all Xander wanted was to pull Spike to him and cuddle away the torrent of emotion that had been exposed.

“Xander…”

“Shh.”

“Love…”

“Shh!”

“Oh.  Then this is…”

“Shhhhhh!”

‘If he accepts, you kiss his feet before stripping.  Make sure you’re always faced toward him so you’re exposed to him, but if you’re standing you keep your head down, submissive…’

Spike shakily took the dog tags from Xander’s hands, studying and scenting the dried blood, licking a thumb and rubbing off some of the rusty stain, bringing it to his tongue.  The demon visage came and went and, to Xander’s delight, Spike was smiling cruelly at the ultimate, unquestionable evidence of Riley’s fate.  Bowing low, Xander kissed the vampire’s bare feet before moving away to remove his clothes, ensuring his posture was appropriately deferential at all times.

‘Once you’re naked you turn.  Elbows and knees, present yourself.  Get yourself ready beforehand if you can.’

‘Yeah, we, umm…  We have lube in the car.’

‘Don’t be embarrassed, Xander.  It makes for the perfect consort.’

‘You mean that?  I can be the perfect consort?’

‘Haven’t I said so all night?’

Turning his back on Spike, Xander fell to his hands and knees, dropping onto his elbows, spreading his thighs wide.

‘Be ready, let him take you.  It’ll be a hard fuck, be ready for it because he won’t stop to coddle you.’

Xander grit his teeth, scared of how much this would hurt but determined that Spike should have what he needed to complete the ritual.  If he had to bleed for Spike, then he’d bleed for him – if it was necessary he’d willingly die for Spike, so a little blood…  He heard the rustle of clothes being shed, felt Spike behind him, unable to prevent himself gasping and tensing.  Tender hands smoothed over his back and hips, lips kissed up and down his spine.

“Thank you, love.  Thank you.”

“Shh.”

“D’you mind?  I’m talking to my honey and…”

The words faded into a murmur of appreciation as Spike’s fingers discovered Xander was slicked, then Spike’s moan became Xander’s groan as cock replaced fingers and Spike carefully pushed into his body, Xander unable to stifle further noises of need, letting them smother Spike’s soft words accepting the token and acknowledging his consort’s Rite.  All Xander knew was that he needed this connection, he needed Spike to take him and claim him and bring him back to their reality.

“Please, Spike, love you, baby, fuck me.”  Consort not sire.  “Please…Master.”

The formal address dragged Spike away from thoughts of ritual to the man squirming against him.

“Consort,” Spike said in a rumbling purr, hips picking up speed, ramming his cock home, hard then harder and harder, exactly where Xander needed to feel it, and the human pushed back, up onto his hands for extra leverage, shouting of his devotion and drumming the fact that he loved him, loved him, loved him into Spike’s head.

“Have to—” Xander yelled as his physical focus zoomed in on Spike’s cock, what it was doing to his ass, and the blessed wonder that was his prostate.

A shift, and Xander found himself fucking Spike’s fist, and the extra touch made coming irresistible, and Xander vaguely remembered why he wasn’t such a fan of this position, wanting to hold onto Spike, kiss that beautiful face, fuck his mouth with a rampant tongue.

Barely recovered from his own climax but recognising the imminence of Spike’s, Xander primed himself for the usual battering, surprised when Spike pulled out and brought himself off in the cleft of Xander’s buttocks, coming over his back in thick spurts that Xander could feel spattering over his skin, landing in his hair.  The fluid was rapidly collected and mixed with a palm-full of Xander’s; as Spike sat back on his heels he pulled Xander with him, easing his lover onto his lap to rest against his chest, rubbing their semen over every inch of Xander that he could reach, eradicating the scent of the other men.

“Claim me,” Xander urged hoarsely, the desire for the bite striking him quite urgently.  He tilted his head, exposing his neck, his consort’s scar.  “Spike…”

“Yes,” Spike hissed, “yes, love, darling, yes.”

One more sweep of tacky hands over Xander’s body and, as the touches turned into a constricting hold, Spike’s fangs sank into the offered flesh, clamping down.  Beyond Xander’s fevered breathing and heaving chest, Spike’s cock hardening once more and tucking its head behind Xander’s balls, their bodies became motionless at this intimate and momentous joining.

Time passed.  The fangs retracted as Spike returned to his human face, and Xander groaned pleasurably as an agile tongue began to probe the wounds.

“Did I get it right?” Xander whispered, trying his best not be distracted and failing miserably.

“You got the right Rite, and the Rite right,” Spike smiled.

“My vengeance,” Xander repeated similar words to those he’d heard not long ago from the vampire.  “Does Master approve?”

“You know I do.”

Xander squirmed away, just enough to turn, throwing his arms around Spike and enveloping him in a fierce hug.

“I didn’t know until tonight, didn’t know he hadn’t been killed with the others.  I’m sorry you had to wait so long for this.”

“I’m not.  This makes it real.  Before…  I couldn’t believe he wasn’t going to reappear sometime.  Now it’s real, he’s gone.”

“You want me to tell you what happened?  What we did to him for you?”

“I—  Bloody hell, I wish I’d been there.”

Time for a little economy with the truth.  Just a little.

“I had to do this, Spike.  I had to.  Like you with those guys who hurt me.  You understand that.”

“I do.”

“I think Angel needed it too.”

“Then…thank you.  Both of you.”

Spike gave Xander a gentle kiss; the human’s response was as ferocious as the hug, and as he kissed his partner he refused to notice the shudder as Spike recognised the lingering flavour that tainted his mouth.  The reaction was fleeting, and within minutes the vampire was laughing and playing at struggling as it proved virtually impossible to avoid either Xander’s lips or hands.

“More,” Xander pleaded when he found his wrists caught and used to keep him still.

“Soon.”

“But I want…  Oh.  Yeah.  Sorry.  Speak.”

Another laugh at the granted permission.

“Cheeky wretch.”  Which had Xander grinning as widely.

Spike manoeuvred them to their feet, holding Xander in a loose embrace.

“Was he repentant?” he asked quietly.

Spike saw the bitterness before he heard it.

“Riley?  Not for a moment.”

“Angelus…Angel must have loved that.”

“He seemed to appreciate it.”

“That’s not all he must have appreciated.  You kissed him.”

Xander swallowed hard.

“Not like kissed him kissed him.  To complete the Rite I had to taste Riley’s blood.”

“And the kiss was Angel’s suggestion?”  Xander nodded and waited anxiously to see if Spike would continue talking or wreck the room.  But Spike remained calm beneath Xander’s soothing touches.  “Do you understand why he offered you the taste of blood that way?”

“’Cause he’s a pervert?”

Spike chuckled.

“Apart from that.  Once the blood had been in his mouth there was no chance you’d catch anything from it.”

“Oh,” Xander mouthed, genuinely surprised.  “That’s…  I appreciate that, I’ll have to tell him.”

Spike moved his mouth to Xander’s ear.

“Did you enjoy it?” he asked softly.  “Kissing Angelus?”

Xander had to think about his answer carefully.

“I wanted to complete the Rite, so I…not enjoyed, but…felt satisfied that I’d done that for you.  I didn’t want to kiss him, and I can’t say I liked it.  But he made the choice mine and I chose to do it.  If he also saw it as a thank you I’m happy with that.”

Spike smiled and the consort felt his master’s approval, felt his place in the Order and was quite content with it.

“And what were you frightened of?  Before I fucked you?”

“Angel said it would be hard, that I couldn’t expect you to think of me.  I was sure you were going to hurt me.”

“That’s bloody typical of the ignorant sod, scaring you for no reason.”

“So…?”

“He doesn’t seem able to grasp that I still have control in these circumstances – any circumstances – and that I can choose to defy the demon and not hurt you.”

“What he warned me about – that would be…?”

“Your average vamp maybe.  Him certainly.  And an excuse.  He wouldn’t want to hold back.”

“You weren’t tempted at all?  To go for…y’know…the blood?”

Spike paused uncomfortably before sighing into honesty.

“Momentarily.  Because of the Rite, because you seemed willing.  But I’m not going to make you bleed because that bastard should’ve bled for me.  I’m never going to make you suffer for someone else’s sins.”

Xander snuggled in to his lover, holding and rocking him, almost dancing with him.

“He’s dead, Spike.  So dead.  He bled for you.  He’s so very, very dead.”

“I can taste him in your mouth, him and Angelus.  That combination can only be a proclamation of death.”

“You happy?”

“I’m happy.”

“With me?”

“Fucking delirious with you.”  Benediction, and Xander finally let himself relax, knowing Spike would support him.  “Tired, love?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Bed, or…?”

“Drink first.  Get this taste out of my mouth.”

“I’ll make you some chocolate.”

“I can…”

“I’ll do it.  Hungry?”

“God, no.”

Spike led Xander through to the kitchen and sat him at the table, stopping to cuddle him for a few minutes before preparing their nightcap.

“Where’s Henry?” Xander yawned.

“Hamish.  Shot off earlier into the woods like his tail was on fire, haven’t seen him since.”

“We should go look for him.”

“He’ll be fine.  The house was a bit noisy and I think he was sick of it.  He’ll be back when he’s ready: the door’s left open for him.”

“Shit, I don’t want to move out but at this rate we’ll have to.”

“We’re not going anywhere.  Other than bed.”

“Mmm…bed.”

Silence until the chocolate was served up and Xander was halfway through his.

“This is all so ordinary.  I think I’m asleep at my desk and dreaming all this.”

“No.  Let it be real.”

What his rambling had undone struck Xander, and he pushed himself out of his chair and into Spike’s lap in seconds, hugging and kissing and whispering assurances.

“Let me tell you, everything I remember, you should hear ‘cause it was all for you.”

“I want you to forget about it.”

“But…”

“But nothing.  Let it go now.”

“But…”

“Do as you’re told.  Consort.”

“Why?  You never do.  Childe.”

Spike sniggered.

“I bet you let Angel pull rank.”

“Maybe,” Xander said implausibly airily.  “Head of the Order.”

“Oh, right,” Spike agreed with heavy scepticism.

“And scary, scary vamp guy.  I spent all my time bowing and scraping and…what d’you call it?  What you do when you’re letting me know I’m being a control freak?”

Xander lifted a hand to pull at the front of his hair.

“Tugging your forelock.”

“That was me – ‘Yes, Mr Angel, sir, no Mr Angel, sir…’ – way subservient in case the scary vamp guy started on me.”

Spike chuckled at that, and Xander could imagine the scenario running through Spike’s head, but the vampire had to protest with a…

“As if he’d dare.”

…before letting himself get worked up over the thought of a totally compliant Xander.

Rearranging Xander, letting his lover comfortably straddle his thighs, he slid down the chair a little before easing his erection back into the slick heat of Xander’s body.

“Let me tell you.  Another token.”

“Maybe…just a little something…” Spike suggested breathily, “…that I’d particularly enjoy.”

“Okay…”  Xander thought, smiling wickedly, languidly swivelling his ass on Spike’s cock.  “Did you know dishonour can hurt more than pain?  Apparently some men find it extremely humiliating when the vamp that’s about to kill them makes them hard with one little bite.  Humiliating to the point of threats and screaming and pleading to be killed.  He was…  I don’t have the words for that level of being humiliated.  He hated Angel – especially Angel – having such power over him and he came out with all the offensive and inflammatory shit he could think of to make Angel finish it before the final humiliation.”

“And?”

“I thought he was screwed up enough to die with shame, just for a minute I thought his heart would give out under the stress.”

“And?”

“Angel kept giving him these little bites and making it worse and worse for him and…  At one point I looked into his face and he…  It was like he was insane with it, with wanting the bite, wanting to die.  And with every bite Angel took, a little more shame was heaped on, more hatred for us, for you, but he couldn’t stop himself from moaning in pleasure.  It was…bizarre.”

“And?”

“He came when Angel bit his nipple off.  Bit it right off and spat it onto the floor where Riley could see it.”

“He die then?” Spike gasped, fingers digging deeply into the flesh of Xander’s hips.

“No, and ow.”

“Sorry, love, sorry, just…”

“Yeah.  I know.”

“So…not then?”

“Angel started over, and he was destroyed, Riley was absolutely destroyed.  He was counting on coming and death and it being over, but Angel kept on…  Biting, and the things he was whispering…  Absolute degradation.  He’s – Angel – he’s…far crueller than I ever imagined, and he makes it so simple, and it’s…”  Xander shook his head, momentarily lost for words.  “He’d already completely mind-fucked Riley before I got there, I was pretty impressed the guy was functioning at all.  That’s his training, I guess.”

“And?”

“And…  When Angel finally got to the pain, dishonour kinda lost out to it, training or no.”

“And?”

“When a vampire bends a human’s erect penis in two, it’s apparently excruciatingly painful.”

“Fucking lovely,” Spike groaned appreciatively, looking to where his hand was wrapped loosely around Xander’s cock – something else that was fucking lovely – and more than his freedom from Riley Finn, he felt his willing enslavement to his beautiful mate.

A surge of power – freedom – coursed through Spike and he revelled in it.  His hands trailed over Xander’s body, coming to rest on his buttocks and caressing.  Holding Xander to him, he stood and let muscular legs encircle him and link at the ankles, before slowly making his way upstairs, kissing Xander, stroking inside him with every step.

They finally toppled onto their bed, Spike still buried in Xander’s body and beginning a leisurely fuck.

“Sometimes I think there’s no more good left in me,” Xander confessed, before giving a soft laugh and pushing his hips up at Spike.  “Or rather, at the moment, you’re the only good in me.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you?”

They fell still; Xander stared into Spike’s worried eyes.

“Y’know, for an evil creature with no conscience, you have a hell of a conscience.”

“Only when it comes to you, love.”

“Me or Dawnie or Willow or Buffy and even Angel, and if someone hurt Pat or Beth or Ja…”

Spike shut his lover up with a kiss.

“All right.  Never said ten years of being chipped hadn’t changed me, did I?  Never said being with you hadn’t let some good trickle into me even as I was sucking it out of you.”

“In some ways I’m still good.  In fact…”  Xander effortlessly rolled them until he was above Spike, twisting and teasing as he lingeringly rose and fell and rose before settling into the cradle of Spike’s hips with a wriggle like a bird on a nest.  “I’m better than good.”

He grinned down into Spike’s face, which was soft with love and sharp with lust; he crooked a beckoning finger and Spike leant up on his elbows, meeting Xander halfway for several tenderly passionate kisses.  A twitch inside and Xander was uncurling, upright, rising, falling, grinding Spike’s thick member into his body, every move measured and deliberate, no rush; stopping to watch Spike play with his consort’s cock and balls, watching himself stroked, tugged, squeezed, toyed with by fingers that knew him too well, getting close and whispering to Spike, “No, don’t,” swiftly followed by, “Yes, do,” being close and being there and hearing Spike’s creak of approval as Xander flecked his chest with white before slumping into his arms.

Another effortless roll and Spike was above Xander again, still a lack of urgency as he returned to the leisurely fuck, singing sweet nothings to his sprawled boyfriend who was very likely more asleep than awake.

…

Downstairs Hamish had returned and was dutifully making his rounds, sniffing the air in the living room and gathering immediately that his charges had been at it again and he could pretty much guess exactly what they were up to right now.  Luckily, he for one could keep his mind on his responsibilities.  Another smell, foreign and unappetising, caught his attention, and he snuffled his way to the source, beneath Spike’s discarded clothes, finding the metal tags and chain that were smeared in the bad blood.

The hound knew these things had no place here, and he gingerly picked them up in his front teeth, using the cleanest stretch of chain.  Two minutes to the back door and Hamish was out into the grounds, racing happily toward the trees that bordered the property, disappearing into the dense black with tokens of Rite that would never be seen again.

…

Just before dawn, Xander shook Spike.

“Mmm?”

“I’m…  Help?”

“Xander?”

Spike was instantly awake and cradling Xander to him, feeling a cold sweat on the human’s skin and understanding instantly.

“I can’t stop shaking, I…”

“It’s all right, you’re all right, love, it’s the shock of what happened.”

“But I’m okay with what happened,” Xander barely managed to say through chattering teeth.

Spike tugged the covers closer around them, petting and crooning until Xander calmed a little.

“You’re not cut out for this, and I don’t expect you to be.”

“I wanted him to pay for what he did to you.  For what he did to you, for betraying all of us, for hurting Buffy, for…for that…thing in Sunnydale, in the bottle, in the bunker.  Her name on the fucking label and he had to pay.  He deserved what he got.”

“Still traumatic though, isn’t it?  Experiencing something like that.  Angel’s shocked me before now and I’m a demon, what chance did you have?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Were you scared last night?”

“I…  At times.  And, yes, of Angel.  Of me.  Seeing the loss of control troubled me.  I know the guys joke—  The guys pretend to joke about me being a control freak at work, and I get that, it’s there in me, so…  Seeing him tied and helpless was…”

Xander shuddered.

“Too much empathy is a bad thing.”

“Yeah.  And…  This won’t matter to you, I know, but…  It scared me, what the Initiative had done to Riley.  There didn’t seem to be much left of the man I knew, even when he was trying to be nice I could see him playing the part.  How twisted is it that an organisation created to wipe out demons destroyed the humanity in him?  Riley – the real Riley…  I think maybe he’d be glad that this…shell had been stopped before it could do any more damage.”

“It does matter to me.  And you hang on to that – the real Riley, what he’d have wanted.”

“Think that’ll make it easier?”

Spike gave Xander a soft, regretful smile.

“No.”

Xander shook and chuckled and burrowed closer to his partner.

“Are you disappointed that I didn’t do it?  Didn’t kill him myself?”

“No,” emphatically.  “I know the kind of damage that would do to you.  Kill someone and you can’t undo it, you can’t get back to…clean.”

“There were a couple of times when I would have.  Done it myself.  If Angel hadn’t stopped me.”

“But he did, and I’m glad he had the sense to.  Revenge may be sweet, but the aftertaste has a hell of a burn.  You can joke about it, but you haven’t sold your soul, love.  However much he deserved what he got, you can’t be the person you are and not feel it.”

“I know that.  I’m not fooling myself that I’m the next Big Bad.”

“You hurt him though.”  Spike brought the faintly bruised knuckles to his mouth and kissed.  “Heat of the moment or just for fun?”

“Heat of the moment.”

“What brought it on?”

“I—  Angel…  Let’s just say that I know now you didn’t tell me everything they – Riley – did to you.”

“Bloody Angel and his big mouth.”

“He thought I knew.”

“Sorry.  I didn’t want…”

“I know.”

As the shaking appeared on the verge of stopping it began again, full force.

“This is…  When it really sinks in…  You’ll get me through it, won’t you?”

“I will.”

“However hard it hits me, I’m ready to suffer the consequences of this.  I love you so much, Spike, you're worth it, you’re worth anything I have to pay, you’re…”

“Shh-shh-shh.”  Back to comforting and cuddling and a steady, fortifying purr.  “Too good you are, too sweet.  Still my beautiful innocent.”

“You think I can be?  I meant what I said: sometimes I do feel like there’s nothing good left inside me.”

“You’re pure.  I feel it, even now.”

“You do?”

Spike pushed Xander onto his back, easing away the covers and laying a path of kisses along his throat.  But Xander was too impatient for niceties; hard at the first touch, Spike let himself be roughly manhandled into position, hips pressing forward with Xander’s fingers to guide him, erection sliding easily into Xander’s come-soaked body.

“So…erotic.  This purity I can’t begin to touch, can’t steal, can’t break, can’t destroy.  Yours, which makes it mine.  You’ll be the saviour of us both.”

“Fuck,” was all Xander could manage as Spike began to match the word with fervent actions.

“So pure…so innocent…can’t suck it out of you…or fuck it out of you…can feel it tickling the tip of my cock when I’m in deep inside your body…  Elusive purity I want to coat with my spunk…need to keep burying my prick in you and shooting as hard as I can…trying to reach it…claim it.  Trying to own it.”

Xander’s hands grasped frantically at Spike’s body, urging him to fuck harder, bringing their mouths together in a clash that allowed teeth to damage lips, sucking at each other’s flesh for the traces of blood and writhing with the effects, Xander’s cock being milked by the friction of their bodies.

“Oh, God, Spike, I love you, I love you so much, I’d do anything for you, be anything for you.”  Xander twisted his head to one side, arching, offering his neck.  “Do it, you want me forever, do it.”

Spike roared with his release, pushing himself to arm’s length, away from temptation, not even daring to look at Xander’s neck as he thrust, kept thrusting, thrusting deep, vigorously spurting; knowing with joy and with sorrow that he could not corrupt Xander’s true purity.

…

“I’ll get the details from Angel.  Unless you need to talk you don’t dwell on it.”

“Okay.”

…

“Didn’t you want me?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t take me.”

“No.”

…

“It’s finished.”

“I’m afraid of the dark.”

“It’s still finished.”

“I’m still afraid of the dark.”

“Was William afraid of the dark?”

“I—  A little.”

“Then blame him.  He’d go for that.”

…

“Didn’t you want me?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you take me?”

“I don’t have the right.”

“But…  If you don’t have the right…”

“Nobody does.  Remember that, Xander.  Nobody does.”

…

“Are you working today?”

“Go to sleep.”

“Will you…”

“Yes, I’ll be here.”

…

“Eee-eee-eee.”

“Hey, Henry.”

“Hamish.”

“Henry.”

…

Xander spooned himself to Spike’s back, thinking about purity and goodness and eternal damnation and where he and Spike fell in the scheme of things.  But it was a big scheme and this was one bushed brain.  Still pure, still innocent.  Could he cling to that improbability?  And if he could…  Xander snuggled impossibly closer to Spike.  A white knight needed a shield.

He clung to improbability and knew he could and would force himself to move on.

Spike might argue that the fear of darkness lingered, but on this particular occasion Xander would side with Grandpa.

This chapter was, finally, over.

Repossession 112       Repossession Index       Repossession Notes

Site Updates     Update List     Home     Fiction     Gallery     Links     Feedback