When Xander arrived home the following evening he was met by a mouth-watering aroma from the kitchen, and the sound of the piano from the music room.  Shedding his jacket and briefcase he moved slowly in the direction of the music, enjoying, though not recognising, the delicate tune.  Much as Xander had suspected he would, William stopped playing the moment he realised he was no longer alone, rushing over to greet Xander with a customary hug and a kiss to his cheek.

“Play some more.”

“Later perhaps.  I have prepared a meal for you and your arrival is excellently timed.”

They walked to the kitchen hand-in-hand.

“Spike okay?”

“He remains, I regret to say, deeply troubled.”

“Is that a calm deeply troubled, or…?”

“An enraged deeply troubled,” William sighed.

“He wearing you down?”

“These internal struggles are detrimental to the both of us.”

“Can’t you persuade him to come back out here?”

William stopped walking, turned to Xander and took both of his hands.

“I could not guarantee your safety at present.  His mood is unpredictable and veers between despair, and violent reaction to any stimulus.”

“I don’t think he’d hurt me.”

“His instability makes him untrustworthy.  I have no doubt that should he hurt you his remorse would quite overwhelm him, but it would not prevent the initial act.  There is little chance that while caught in the grip of his rage he would stop to consider the repercussions of damaging you.”

“It’s that bad?”  William gave an unhappy nod.  “All this from being at Preston Hill?  God, I wish I’d never taken him with me.”

“Xander…” William began slowly, but the explosion of brutal emotions from his demon stopped him from confessing the presence of the list.

William winced, shuddered, gave himself over to Xander’s comforting hug and gave up on honesty, reassuring Spike that he would say nothing about…  Anything.  He’d stop speaking completely if Spike would stop battering his mind.  The barrage eased.

“Crazy demon guy?”

William heaved a deep breath, blinking tears of pain from his eyes, leaning back to look at Xander.

“Can you manufacture a less endearing epithet for this monster in my head?”

“Well, I could, but nothing that you’d use.”

William was transfixed by Xander’s mouth; without thinking he leant in and placed a gentle kiss there.  Xander’s surprise was rapidly replaced by interest and he responded greedily.  Unlike William’s kisses, Xander’s were passionate and demanding.

“We should not…” William belatedly, half-heartedly argued.

Xander took a breath to speak but faltered: what was the point of an apology when they both knew he was lying?  Instead he gave William another kiss, tender now, groaning quietly when he felt William reciprocate fully for a brief moment before drawing back.

“No, we shouldn’t,” Xander reluctantly agreed.  “But I can’t help wishing…  You know I want you, Will.”

“That would have a detrimental effect, I fear.”

“I know.  And it’s not like I would.  I don’t think.”

“Xander, please, he is already sufficiently angry.”

“Right.  So…how much worse can we make it?”

“Much worse.  Much, much worse.”

Xander looked deep into William’s eyes as he stroked the serene face.

“It’s so intense, this…wanting you.  I feel like I’m barely in control when I’m with you.  You’re so…beautiful.”

“Spike is beautiful.  This body is his.”

“I’m not just talking about what’s on the outside.  You’re beautiful.  It’s you, something distinctly you.”

William avoided the next kiss.

“He has always been afraid that you would magic him away,” he said softly.  “Please, do not accentuate that fear.”

“Magic him away?”

“In favour of my presence.”

“I would never do that.  Tell him it’s not an option.”

“I have attempted to reassure him of that on countless occasions.”

Xander ran his hands over William’s hair, face, neck.

“I don’t want you to go but…  You have to get him back,” he said resignedly.  “Get him back.”

“You would be placing yourself in danger.”

“I’ll take my chances.  He has to know that I want him whatever the situation, whatever the consequences.  He can’t run away and I won’t.  You have to get him back so I can try and make things right.”

“Persuading him to return may take some time.”

“Okay.  But you’ll work on it?”

William gave a sad smile but agreed with a nod.

Xander washed up and sat at the kitchen table as William served the food, declining any offer of help and going about his task quite happily.  As happily as Spike apparently would have a short time ago.  But Xander now knew that was a lie, and he couldn’t understand why Spike had played along with a life he hated for so long.  It made Xander feel guilty for taking so much for granted, angry at the thought of Spike settling for…anything, upset that Spike couldn’t tell him the truth until it was forced out of him by his unhappiness and frustration.  But he hid all of that behind a smile as William triumphantly placed a plate of food before him.  Chicken risotto.  Xander’s grin became a little more genuine for a moment but it was unsustainable.

“You are very sad,” William observed as he took his seat.

“He didn’t trust me enough to tell me he was miserable.  I’ve let this go on and on.”

“He has not been miserable,” William assured, placing his hand over Xander’s and squeezing.  “He has experienced great joy with you and it is misfortune that persuades him otherwise.  Eat, sir, for nothing was resolved on an empty stomach.”

“Sounds like a quote.”

“My mother,” William explained in a voice full of affection.  “I was quite a frail child and caused her no end of despair with my fussy palate.  My brother however was decidedly hale and hearty, and could easily be persuaded to consume any evidence of my lack of appetite.”

“Your brother?” Xander asked in surprise, food halfway to his mouth.

“Dear Robert.  Another inconvenience that Angelus disposed of,” William said quietly, leaving an appalled Xander in the rare position of being unable to find a word in response.  William paused, deep in thought for a few minutes before turning back to Xander with a brave smile.  “But we have a splendid family now, Xander.”

Xander gladly followed William’s lead.

“Yeah, we’re lucky.  Guess you like Rafe best.”

William’s jaw dropped in surprise.

“How…?”

“He called Spike Will.”

“He did?  I did not make myself known to him, I assure you.  He may have asked Spike for his given name.”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s not like Rafe made a big deal of it.  It was pretty nice actually, him calling Spike that and Spike obviously not thinking anything of it.  But you like Rafe?”

“Very much.  He is a kindly man, generous and compassionate.”

“Took you out, got you hammered, made you blab.”

“He offered succour at a crucial time.”

“So…you like Rafe?” Xander teased.

William looked at Xander curiously, picking over the emphasis in his mind.  Then he leant a little closer.

“I like you.”

Xander leant in too, stealing a parmesan-flavoured kiss prior to asking apologetically:

“Does it hurt when I say I want Spike here, not you?”

“No.  That is exactly how it should be.”

“And you know I love you?”  William chuckled to himself.  “What?”

“You express yourself so effortlessly.”

“You can’t?”  A very William shake of the head.  “Why not?”

A glance, another chuckle, and William turned his concentration to his food, ignoring any questioning looks Xander sent in his direction.

…

Early night, but Xander couldn’t sleep despite feeling exhausted.

“I called Angel this afternoon,” he said into the semi-darkness.  “Asked if there were any new developments, any chance of a safe solution to the chip.”

“His response?”

“Nothing’s changed.  Just that one offer to fry Spike’s brain and I can’t let him do it, I can’t let him take that kind of chance.  Can’t let him risk damaging you,” Xander concluded in a low voice.

“Thank you.”

William moved closer, laying his head on a solid shoulder and purring as the stroking began.

“You mind me talking about Angel?”

“No.  I appreciate better that he is not Angelus.  Although he is more Angelus than Spike presumes.”

“You feel bad when he was around?”

“My concerns were focused in entirely another direction.  You are welcome to discuss him if the need is present.”

“I told him some of what happened last night.”

“You trust him to that extent?” William asked with obvious surprise.

“I guess I must.  We talked a lot when he was staying here, and I got to know him, this him, whole new version of Angel.  We have so much in common now maybe it’s impossible to not be on the same side.”

“And you informed him of Spike’s behaviour.”

“Some of it.  The abridged version.”  Xander paused.  “Told him I thought I was losing Spike.”

Each time Xander considered the possibility, something inside him died a little.  William seemed to sense it and snuggled even closer

“How can that be possible?  If he abandoned you…”

“You’d make his life misery, huh?”

“At the very least.”

Xander laughed lightly, reciprocated the snuggle, buried a kiss in the blond waves.

“It would be so much easier with you.”

“Xander, don’t, he will hear.”

“I’m stating a fact.”

“His interpretation will be negative.”

“I just wish I could make one of you happy.”

“Xander…”

“And I don’t think you’d leave me.  He’s going to leave me.  I don’t know how to cope with him anymore, and he’s finding out that I’m the weak one.  He expects me to be strong for him and doesn’t understand how much of that strength has been an act.  He doesn’t like me weak.”  The ensuing silence was long and cool.  “He’s going to leave me.”

…

The next morning Xander woke, rolled over to William, laid a few gentle kisses on the nape of his neck.  A guttural warning growl emerged from the still form.  Xander backed off immediately, got ready for work in record time, and left without another touch or word for the vampire.

…

All day at work Xander had been too preoccupied to be much good for anything.  With his partners’ blessings he left early and now sat a few minutes away from his home, parked up while he thought about how much he did or didn’t want to walk into the house.  Okay, he’d said to William that this was the way forward, Spike had to come back, but he remembered the demon attacking him too vividly to be brave about what could possibly happen if Spike’s disposition hadn’t improved since the morning.  He shook his head at himself: what if, what if, it was too easy to sit scaring himself with what ifs.  He started the Merc’s engine; time to go home and face the reality.

“Hey, honey, I’m home,” Xander called the moment he stepped into the hallway, hoping it wasn’t enough to get him eviscerated.

Silence met his words and Xander warily followed his usual pattern: briefcase by the hall table, jacket on the newel post, through to the kitchen to get a beer or a juice – beer today without a doubt – and then a recce of the rooms until he found his vampire.  He found Spike still in bed, awake and glaring at the ceiling as if it were in some way offensive to him.  Xander sat on the edge of the bed and waited to see if Spike would acknowledge him.  That would be a no.

“Hey,” he tried.  Nothing.  “You want me to go away?”  Nothing.  Xander nodded and rose, headed for the door.  “You eaten?”  Zilch.  “If I make something will you eat?”  More of the same.  “I’ll heat you some blood, then…  Up to you.”

Xander was back in five minutes, placing a mug of warmed blood on Spike’s cabinet, deliberately not looking at the vampire and turning to leave again immediately.  Before he got to the door Spike was up and the mug was flying across the room, leaving a vivid streak of glistening red across the bed and floor.  Xander spent a few speechless seconds taking in the mess, more than long enough for Spike to get to him, pin him against a wardrobe and scrape extended fangs over his neck.  Xander tilted his head away and Spike stopped.

“Offering yourself?  What’s wrong with you, you fucking idiot?  Offering yourself.”

“If you’re going to do it, you’re going to do it, I won’t be able to stop you.  Don’t need hours of fevered anticipation to get drained.”

Spike slowly smiled, but it was a smile that didn’t touch the coldness in his eyes.

“Would you let me, Xan?  Let me feed?”

“You mean there’s a choice?”

“You giving me your blood willingly, very exciting.  Very…”  Spike pressed forward, hard cock rubbing against Xander’s disinterested groin.  “…exciting.”

“If I have a choice…  Excitement is off the menu.”

A long lick to Xander’s neck sent an unpleasant shiver racing through him, but before it reached his toes Spike was gone again, pulling on clothes and muttering angrily to himself, or possibly to William.  Face glowering as he turned back, an inconsistent moment of eloquent sadness when he noticed the handle was broken off his mug, fury returning as he tore past Xander.

Blood intact, skin intact, Xander felt that had gone pretty well.  He picked up the broken mug, traced the letters for the last time, wondered if he’d have to replace the carpet or if he could get the blood out, decided to leave that decision until his vampire had finished rampaging around the house.

It was what he’d call a moment, throwing out the mug.  He remembered buying it for William – Spike as he’d thought at the time – watching as the name was painted on the side, seeing William’s interest when it was presented to him, the fascination with the letters that the vampire repeatedly traced without understanding.  He remembered Spike automatically reaching for it after his restoration, fingers ghosting over letters that now made sense, a tiny satisfied smile on his face.  He remembered using it to catch his blood when Spike was at his most troubled, feeding him from his own vein to reaffirm their connection.

There, a few seconds of strict discipline and it was gone.  Gone.

Took all of thirty seconds for Xander to fish it back out of the trash.  He washed it, ascertained the handle couldn’t be glued back, placed it on the windowsill, took a pot of chives from their selection of herbs and dropped it inside.

“Attractive and functional,” he told himself.  “No need for throwing out.  Not humouring myself for a moment.”  He sighed, stared at the mug.  “Sentimentality.”

Xander made dinner for two, calling Spike to the kitchen when it was ready, not being surprised when he didn’t show.  He couldn’t eat much himself, tension knotting his stomach as it was, but he carried on with this charade of normality.  Cleared the dishes, washed everything, wasted time on the drying, hanging out the minutes until he would have to leave the kitchen.

Spike more often than not left him alone when he was working so, once he’d forced himself into the hallway, he collected his briefcase and made for the study.  He stopped in his tracks at the sound of pool balls cracking around the table, mind jumping back in time once more.  The association was damning.  No matter how many harmless games Spike had played, Spike and he had played, that sound still brought back memories of being thrown to the floor by a demon intent on raping him.  And you insisted on having him back.  Sent William away for this.  Fucking idiot.  Xander concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, tensing further as he passed the open door of the games room, but one step at a time and he was in the study.  He switched on the computer and began rifling through his briefcase for a file he subsequently discovered was still sitting on his desk in the Partnership offices.  What would I usually do?  Go back to work and get it.  Fine, go back to work and get it then.  But Spike might think I’m doing it to get away from him.  I could ask him to come along.  Fine.  Trapped in the car with an insane vampire.  Fine, fine, fine.

“Spike, you want to come for a ride?”  Distant mumble.  “I’ve forgotten something, I need to go back to work, you want to come along for the ride?”

Xander jumped when he turned and found Spike in the doorway, casually observing him, hands against the doorframe so the only exit was effectively blocked and Xander knew he shouldn’t be thinking that way.  But Spike had such a presence, such a sharp-fanged, blood-sucking presence.

“Don’t go out.”  Soft words reinforced by underlying granite.

“I won’t be long, just need a file.”

“It can wait.”

“It can’t,” Xander said with a sigh, making himself ignore the tone of Spike’s statement.  “I have to look it over before the morning.”

“Go in early.”

Hard one to argue with since Xander had done that dozens of times in the past.  Xander simply gave a brief shake of the head and attempted to leave the room, stopping a few feet from Spike and hoping he’d move.  Then he realised how unnatural that was compared to his usual behaviour and risked up close and personal, bringing them nose to nose.

“You look tired,” came out of his mouth by its own accord.

A small but genuine smile graced the pale face and the sense of menace miraculously evaporated.

“Yeah.”

Spike.  His Spike.  Questionably sane but unquestionably irresistible.  Xander tilted his head, cautiously pressing his lips to Spike’s, groaning in quiet relief as Spike’s hands dropped from the doorframe and his arms wound around Xander, pulling him into a harder kiss.  The cool lips gradually made their way to Xander’s neck, parting so blunt teeth could gnaw at the firm flesh.

“Welcome back, Spike,” Xander said, voice already rough with arousal.

“You mean that?” Spike asked against the inflamed skin.

“I mean it.  I do.”

“Gonna be kind to me?”

“Yeah.”

“Gonna take care of me?”

“Yeah.”

“Gonna feed me?”

Xander attempted to escape the vampire’s attentions but Spike persisted, crushing the squirming human against him.

“I’ll fix you something now.”

“But I have everything I want right here.”

“No, Spike,” Xander whispered with more than a little regret.

“Let me taste you, Xander.  My Xander.  So hot, so sweet.”

The words, the cadence, the sensation, all so persuasive.  Xander knew better but he couldn’t help wanting.

“If I let you, that’ll be the claim?  I’ll be your Consort?”

“No, love, not my Consort.”

“Then what?”

Spike leant back and grinned.

“Figure it out.

Xander frowned and figured, expression opening up into shock.

“Your food.  Just your fucking food.”

Shoving Spike away from him as hard as he could, and ignoring the fit of semi-hysterical giggles that rang out, Xander marched into the hallway and grabbed his keys from the table.

“Hurry home, precious,” carried on a laugh as Xander opened the front door.  “Don’t be late for dinner.”

There had to be a smart answer but Xander simply didn’t have it.

“Prick,” was all that escaped him as he slammed the door behind him.

…

Two hours later and Xander was back plucking up the courage to go home.  The car’s progress became slower the closer it got to the house, now having the added inconvenience of nudging through Bradley and several of his associates who came to worship or assess the new Master.  Xander wasn’t particularly bothered inasmuch as he was fairly sure that there was a ward on the house and grounds, probably care of Willow’s last visit, and that he was safe the moment he got through the gate.  The nose of the Merc bumped a couple of the vampires out of its way, and they rounded on the car, game faced and hissing at Xander.

“You think I’m scared of you idiots?” Xander called through the windscreen.  “You should see what I have waiting for me inside.”

Having finally made up his mind to re-visit all the provinces of Denial Land, Xander sought out Spike as soon as he was in the house, finding him in the conservatory, staring out into the spot-lit garden.

“The vamp problem is getting worse, Spike, you have to find a way to deal with those jerks.”

“What do you expect me to do?” Spike asked flatly.

“I don’t know.  Something Master vampirey, I guess.  You have to deal with it, it’s not like I can call the demonic equivalent of ‘roach control.”

“Nice to be reminded of how you view the species.  My species.”

“Oh, don’t give me that, you damn hypocrite, how many did you stake in a bid to get—”

“Get?” Spike asked, looking to Xander.

“Into Buffy’s good books.”

“Or simply into Buffy?”

Xander swung toward him, clenched fist raising.  The smirk on Spike’s face made it almost impossible not to batter it into raw meat, but Xander held back, walked away.  He knew Spike would be after him in seconds: he recognised the mood, and this show was going to run and run.

Barely into the living room before he was grabbed and spun around.  At least the smirk was gone; a timely return to intense and mildly insane.

“Do it, Xander.”

“No.”

“You must’ve wanted to so often.”

“I’m not going to hit you.”

“Just once.  I want to know how it feels.”

“You do know.”

“When you train?  I know you always hold back.  I want to feel you hit me hard enough to make my head spin.”

“Why?”

“Curiosity.”

“Why?”

“You’re surrounded by freaks; I want to know what’s rubbed off on you.”

Xander’s eyes blazed with fury, but it made him want to avoid Spike rather than be close enough to land a blow.  He wrenched himself out of Spike’s grip and tried for the door, having his path blocked and diverting, getting as far away from the vampire as possible while remaining in the same room.

“You were gone longer than I expected,” Spike suddenly said, conversationally, as if nothing in their world was wrong.  “I thought you might have nipped off to get plastered.”

“I worked on the file at the office.  I was there, it seemed to make sense.”

“Let me know where you are next time.  I worry.”  Amidst the fumbling aghastness at Spike’s statement, Xander managed to make a vaguely affirmative noise.  “Good.  It won’t kill you to show some consideration.”

“Tomorrow.  I’ll be late tomorrow.  I’ve got a meeting that will drag on, then I thought I’d go to Donny’s with Jake.  You want to meet us there?  I can give you a call when I leave work.”

“Yeah,” Spike smiled.  “Do that.”

The pleasantry was far more unnerving than the snarkiness.

“What’s it for?” Xander snapped.

“I beg your pardon?”

“The concern.  The smile.  The good manners?”  Spike’s grin was positively feral and Xander postponed putting into practise his latest idea about making a break for the hallway.  “I’m so fucking entertaining, is that it?  Screw with the dumb fuck’s head.  Well, you’re doing a great job, Spike, ’cause I’m totally screwed.”

“Sounding a tad stressed, Xan.  Sorry: dumb fuck.  Must try and get the name right.  Next I’ll be calling you Alex and how ludicrous would that sound?”

Spike began a prowling approach.

“Do it for me, dumb fuck.  Just here.”  He patted his chin.  “Lover’s tap.”

Xander refused to rise to the provocation.

“I’m not going to hit you.  Why would you want me to hit you?”

“Makes you force yourself calm, the thought of hitting me,” Spike observed with a frown.  “That’s not good.”

“It is good, of course it’s good.  You can’t defend yourself, I’m not going to seriously hit you.”

“Never used to stop you.”

“No,” Xander conceded, “it didn’t.  But I never saw past how mad you made me then.”

“What’d make you mad enough now?  Angel?” Spike’s nasty grin re-emerged; Xander turned his back, hoping to make a point.  “Angel’s normally good for some flying fur.”

“Not any more.”

“No?  So you’re not bothered by all that time I spend with him?”

“Are you bothered by the time he spent with me?”

“Why should I be?  You and Angel don’t have the history that makes it so easy for him to take me.”  Spike came close to Xander’s back and whispered in his ear.  “Can you see it in your head?  Him, forcing his cock into my arse, all slicked up with blood and come, breaking me open better than a human ever could.  Me, begging for more because someone’s doing it right at last.”  No perceptible reaction from Xander and Spike gave a low, dissatisfied growl at his partner’s apparent lack of jealousy.  Right.  “How about when I’ve got him open nice and wide, when I’ve had my hand in him and my tongue in him and he’s screaming to be fucked?  Screaming for his Spike to fuck him because he knows I’ll never want anyone else like that, never be able to find another man that I can bear to shove my cock in.”

Xander stared at the wall, seeing nothing but still staring.  Spike took his irritation to the far side of the room and waited.

“I wish I’d known,” Xander eventually said, his voice hushed, “that we were that kind of family.”  Spike’s senses began to twitch; he took a few steps toward Xander to hear him better.  “You left us alone a lot, remember?  We became…close.  Which is, I think, what you wanted, but…  Know what he’d call me when we were alone?  Childe.”  A further growl from the vampire that Xander ignored.  “He…  He explained about claiming, about the rights of a sire within the direct line.  I guess he was only thinking of my safety when he said he should claim me because you were incapable.  And as we are that kind of a family maybe it’s a pity he didn’t stay longer.”

With a roar Spike was upon Xander, turning him and throwing him against the wall, trapping him there and glaring into his face, demon façade coming and going within the space of a few seconds.

“No,” Spike insisted, voice cracking with the strain.  “You’d never let him touch you.”

Xander’s hands came up to stroke Spike’s where they were knotted in his shirt.

“I didn’t think you’d ever let him touch you.”

Spike shook off the touch and pressed in close, kissing Xander savagely.

“Mine.  My Xander,” he gasped.  “My Xander, my love.”

Xander turned his head, dragging his mouth away from Spike’s, feeling his lip grazed by blunt teeth.

“I can’t be your love if you fuck around with Angel.  I won’t be.”  He successfully resisted as Spike tried to bring him back into the kiss.  “You don’t need us both so I guess you’ll be leaving?”

“You bastard,” Spike said with miserable intensity.  His head dropped to Xander’s shoulder.  “You bastard.  You absolute bastard.”

“I can play your games, Spike.  When you’re that blatant I know it’s a game.”

“Bastard.”  Almost inaudible.

“It’s not true.  About Angel.  What I said.”  Xander’s arms encircled Spike and pulled him closer, stroking and calming.  “You think he’d be flattered that we use him as ammunition?”

“Bastard.”

“Maybe.  Maybe we’re two of a kind.”  Xander felt a succession of tremors run through Spike and that was more deeply affecting than all the nonsense about Angel.  He laid kisses on the silky skin of Spike’s neck.  “I love you.  I’m not sure you want me to right now but I love you and I can’t stop.”

“Bastard.”

“You want me to quit work?  Stay here with you?”

“Why in fuck’s name would you want to do that?”

“When I was here it felt like you were getting better.”

Spike yanked himself out of the embrace, backing away, staring at Xander as if he were the mad one.

“I am not getting better.  Are you fucking blind?  Fucking stupid?  I am not getting better!  I’m useless.  Worthless.  Useless to you.  Worthless.  I am nothing.  I can feel myself slipping away, and I am fucking terrified.”

“No, Spike, not useless, not worthless.”

“Will you care?  If I get lost in all of this, will you care?  Or is it okay as long as William is here?  If William gets control of this body for once and for all?”

“You know that isn’t what I want.  Tell me how to help.”

“You can’t help, how the fuck do you think you’re going to be able to help?  If I’m inadequate, what does that make you?”  Xander dropped his head and studied the floor, trying not to let Spike see the hurt on his face.  He shrugged.  “Fucking humans,” he heard Spike mutter.  “Think they’ve got the answers when they don’t even understand the questions.”

Xander cleared his throat and hoped something would emerge when he attempted to speak.

“I…umm…I never claimed to know anything, Spike.  No answers.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

Xander had had enough.  Worn out and worn down, he could only keep up the pretence for so long and his time was up.  Without another word or look he headed for the door, knowing that if he got to the garage, to his car, he could be away from this in minutes.  Away from this was all he wanted.  But, as ever, Spike was too fast: before Xander got halfway across the room the vampire was there, blocking his path.

“Get out of my way, Spike.”

“Running away again?  Ever thought of trying something new?”

“Where’s the satisfaction in this for you?” Xander asked desperately.

“Satisfaction?”

“Where’s the challenge?  I refuse to fight, and I’m way too easy to hurt.”

“You don’t know what it’s like to hurt,” the vampire ground out.  “You don’t know what it’s like to have – to have…”  Rigidly suppressed memories exploited his moment of weakness and burst into his mind; he gasped and stumbled away from the Technicolor floorshow his brain supplied.  Before it exploded out of control, hands reached into the expanding hell and dragged him out, and he found himself clutched against Xander’s body.

“Come back to me, Spike.  They can’t get you, I won’t let them get you.”

For a moment all Spike felt was the utter relief that contact with Xander provided, but it was a short moment and, control reclaimed, he pushed the human away with a snarl.

“You can’t do it.”

Xander reached for Spike again but a further snarl forced him to retreat.

“Can’t do what?” he settled for.

“Try as you might, you can’t give me what I need.”

“And what is that exactly?”

“I need—”  Spike caught the words just before they hurtled from his mouth, not because he didn’t want them said, but because he wanted them delivered in such a way as to make them impossible to dismiss as yet another rant.  Calm.  Considered.  “What I need, Xander, what the demon needs…  Is to kill.  I need – want – to kill a human.”  Or three, to be precise.

Spike admired the way Xander accepted his statement, taking it on board, mulling it over in grim-faced silence.  Then he met Spike’s eyes, smiled wryly.

“Who can I give you?  There’s only me.”

“What is it with you?  Does the elevator not go all the way to the top?”  Knowing that whatever he said would have been wrong didn’t help; Xander shrugged, expression a true reflection of just how entirely at a loss he was.  Spike stalked away, back, away, back, fists clenching, unclenching.  “Know how tempting it makes you?  There’s only you.  Want me to take you?  Drain you?  Want to be the corpse that gives me back my self-respect?”

“Are you going to let me leave the room?”

“No, I am fucking-well not!  You stay here, just stay here!”

At Spike’s rapid approach Xander held up his hands in surrender and stepped back; the vampire veered off, swiping at a lamp as he went and sending it crashing to the floor.  Another swift turn and he booted the relatively complete lamp base into the wall.  He tore down the poster of himself that had somehow remained in place for the past months, shredding it as Xander fidgeted forward, wanting to save it.

“Spike, that was…”

“Not me,” Spike growled, guaranteeing his human came no closer.

Spike could feel Xander’s upset, and the desire to fall at his feet to beg forgiveness tormented the vampire, taunted him with his weakness.  Apart from the heaving of his chest Spike became quite still, fixing his senses on Xander, absorbing his essence.

“It was you,” Xander said, voice low and full of emotion.  “It was the you I had when…when I didn’t have you.”

Another pulse of sympathy, empathy, love, hate, disgust, desperation coursed through Spike.

“Xander…” he whispered, softness as he fought against the demon visage, softness that misled Xander into thinking the situation was defusing.

“I want to help you, let me…”

“My body…hums to the beat of your heart, did you know that?  No, how would you know that?”

“I didn’t know.”

“I feel every beat with you, Xander.  The beat of your heart, the rush of your blood; I know the heat of it, the power of it.  I know the thrill of it and…and I want it.  I want to take it, make it my own.”

“You don’t mean…”

“I’m tired of waiting.  I have to take it.”

Spike smelt the fear now, felt the tremor of Xander’s body disturb the surrounding air.

“You going to kill me?”

The tremor was in the voice too, a voice made frail by disbelief.

“Don’t cry, love.”

“You are.  You’re going to kill me.”

“Give me blood.”  Xander shook his head, sending tears tumbling over his cheeks.  “It’s your responsibility, Xander.”

“No.”

“I need this.  I need you.”

“No!”

They moved at the same moment, Xander ducking away as Spike lunged forward.  Xander grabbed at the nearest armchair, managing to haul its bulk between them, but Spike tore it away, lifting it with a roar and effortlessly hurling it across the room.  Xander watched as one of the massive plate glass windows on the rear wall was struck squarely; it shattered, crashing from its home in a deafening explosion as the armchair wedged itself onto the jagged remains that clung to the lower frame.  The hedge of potted plants that Xander had placed along the foot of the window was destroyed, and Xander couldn’t drag his eyes away from the mangled remnants, even as Spike drew close and enveloped him in a suffocating embrace.

“I have you,” Spike murmured, inhaling a myriad of scents that made him hungry and lustful.  “I have you,” as he rubbed his confined erection against Xander’s hip.  “I have you,” as he came, supported by the strong, motionless frame of his lover.

“Look what you’ve done,” Xander said flatly when he found his voice.  Spike licked Xander’s throat and chuckled.  “You didn’t need to do that.”

The chuckle broke into a laugh and Spike released Xander, spun away, crossing the living room to lift another armchair and toss it through the second window with a gleeful holler that was lost in the subsequent racket.  Spike turned back to look at Xander, wanting to share the delight of destruction, but he found a man frozen by shock, staring at the ruins of his beautiful home.

“It’s nothing, Xander,” he said dismissively.  “Bit of glass, couple of chairs, few weeds.”  No reaction from Xander at all, and Spike strolled back to him, taking the human’s atypically cool hands and pressing them to the renewed hardness beneath his damp jeans.  “Feed or a fuck,” he mused.  Xander still hadn’t managed to wrench his gaze away from the decimation, and his eyes were filling again, either through distress or the fact he’d forgotten how to blink.  Spike tugged him into his arms and waltzed him closer to the broken glass, singing as he whirled the non-cooperative body around.

“Let’s deal with it the Xander way, shall we?”  Spike retrieved a six-inch shard of glass from the floor and used it to slice open the left sleeve of Xander’s shirt.  Gripping Xander’s arm he turned it to expose the inner forearm.  He stared at Xander’s face as he touched the point to the skin, fascinated by the apparent absence of any emotion, then they both looked to where the glass began an elegant path over, into the flesh.  Spike signed his name with a flourish, lightly scoring the upper layers of epidermis, ensuring he didn’t go deep enough for any real damage.  But the blood was sensual and erotic, trailing over Xander’s creamy skin and dripping onto the carpet, and Xander’s lack of reaction added a new dimension of pleasure.  “Want me, Xander?” Spike groaned, “’Cause I want you on your knees now.”

“No,” came the dull reply.

“No?” Spike asked, exaggerating his best pout.

Xander seemed to focus all at once.  His gaze flickered from arm to Spike, arm to Spike.  Pale, breathless, and starting to tremble; their eyes locked, and Spike was reminded of just how gorgeous his lover was.

“It would be easy to hate you,” Xander told him with hushed sincerity.  “I remember hating you.  It was easy.”

Spike blinked hard a few times as everything fell into place, understanding about hating Spike, and yes, it was easy.

“Love?”

“Don’t call me that.”  Xander shrugged off Spike’s hold, unaware of how readily he was released.  A second or two staring at the bloody arm and he was raising it, offering it to the vampire beside him.  Spike couldn’t disguise the craving and hunger, but Xander didn’t need him to any longer.  “Take it.”  He felt a moment’s anger at Spike’s hesitation but didn’t have the energy to sustain such a fierce emotion.  “Take it.  You want it, take it.”

“Can I, love – Xander?”  Spike’s voice was thick with blood-lust, but still he waited.  “Can I, Xander?”

“Just do it.”

Spike took a gentle hold of Xander’s arm, bringing it to his mouth and running his tongue along the length of the signature, again and again until the blood was cleaned away and the wounds were beginning to heal with the effects of the saliva.  As he licked his lips and fingers, Spike met Xander’s eyes again, and now they were dark, blazing, formidable.  Movements grinding to a halt, Spike had an apology on its way when Xander smacked his wrist against the blood-stained mouth.

“Xander?” Spike questioned, lips moving against the flesh.

“Do it.  I said do it and I meant it.  Finish it.”  A long moment’s indecision, then Xander added pressure, grinding his wrist past Spike’s lips, onto his teeth.  “Just finish it.”  A flicker of the demon façade came and went.  “Just do it, ya fucking freak!”

The feral growl was back as Spike responded to the deliberate provocation, game face fully emerged, fangs dropping and sinking deeply, indelicately into Xander’s wrist.  Xander gasped and shuddered with the pain and the exquisite pleasure, shaken by a harsh, involuntary orgasm, falling to his knees as the life was sucked from him.

Sensing the approach of darkness.

Embracing it without a struggle.

Repossession 67       Repossession Index       Repossession Notes

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