Xander’s scar remained painful, despite the drugs dulling the sensation. He hadn’t bothered to let Spike know the results of tests on his ‘good eye’, also apparently ‘in distress’, as the doctor so politely put it. In excruciating pain more like. He had been seeing double out of his good eye before begging Andy to drive him to the clinic. Now at home, Xander suffered in silence and accepted the cool hands that petted and comforted him until he succumbed to sleep.

Spike rose after a couple of hours. He had to get out for a time. Leaving the apartment via the balcony, he took off at a run and kept going. His old duster may have been replaced by the long dark grey coat, but it still managed to match and enhance his fluid vampiric grace.

As he ran, his own acute sense of failure over Xander’s injury reemerged and pushed him to the edge of desperation. What if he went blind? What if he died? Would he agree to be turned? Could Spike bear that responsibility? He knew he couldn’t lose the boy, not now… not after just finding him again… not after losing… everyone else!

As he sprinted through the city, he recalled all the others, Angel, Druscilla, Tara, Anya, Fred, Wes, Gunn, even Buffy… and then before… Mother, Papa… the list went on and on… *so* much loss… He was at the river, and as he ran on, he recalled all the losses he had caused for others… Guilt, pain, remorse… Was Xander perhaps paying the price for Spike’s demon nature? Was his victims’ pain somehow being visited on his friend? Was Xander suffering despite, or because of Spike? He ran on past the University, heading south, crossing over major roadways, and on until he found a cemetery, where he slowed. ‘Old Fellows Lawn’ according to the sign, though Spike noted, the inhabitants might not truly appreciate the vista.

Spike stopped to lean against a pillar on the miniature temple like building just beyond the entrance. He contemplated the previous few weeks… had it only been a few weeks?

He knew the boy -*man*- was special to him, and that he had promised to return to Sacramento in March, possibly forever. But this was of greater importance. He had not really been aware of the mortality of his soon to be life partner, quite as acutely as now. And there it was - the crux, the nub, the heart of the matter. If Xander was to be his life partner, then that life was so tenuous, so finite, that this latest eventuation was but a precursor to imminent death. Vamps came and went too. (Illustrating the thought at that instant, he dusted the rather stupid fledge that approached him, the other assuming an easy meal.) The difference with, particularly ‘Master’, vampires was the time the partners had together. Dru and he were lovers for over a hundred years; Angelus and he for twenty bloody and glorious years before that, then a second chance less than a decade ago, but what followed was… devastating. The heartache and grief was of such a profound nature that he had almost walked into the sun, and it still ate him from the inside out, if he let it.

Leaning back on the white wall, he took out a cigarette, lit it, stared at the clearing, moonless sky, and contemplated the stars. The tiny specks of light were dulled, courtesy of the city lights, but still there, none the same. Something niggled at the back of his mind… Old vampiric law, beaten into him by Darla, and occasionally Angelus, began to be recollected. Stories of pets and consorts; of partners and love and blood; of ceremonies and sacred rites; all leading him to conclude the same thing – the witch was right, this was about his blood.

>>>>>

Xander woke up alone, eye socket throbbing again and the pain behind his good eye fast approaching migraine proportions. It was still dark. He reached over to flick the table lamp on, but quickly reversed the action as the light sent dagger-like pain direct to his central nervous system. Feeling shaky and unusually hot then cold, he staggered from the bed in the dark, and only just arrived at the door of the bathroom before emptying the contents of his stomach onto the tiled floor. He sank to his knees and dry retched for several minutes before daring to haul himself up, step over the mess and weakly wash out his mouth at the basin.

It was all he could do to grab the bathmat and throw it on the offensive puddle at the doorway, before staggering back to his bed to curl up and ride out the pain once more.

Xander had been lying, curled up in a fetal position, rocking himself soothingly, for some time. Where was Spike? He must have left as soon as Xander fell asleep, but why? Xander contemplated all possible reasons and could come up with only one logical one. Xander was broken, and he had not told Spike. Spike couldn’t live with a person for whom stress meant debilitating pain; a human who was marred for life; an individual who was unsure of their own prognosis. Tears began to streak from his good eye and Xander wallowed in his misery. Spike had left again but not because of something he said… this time it was something he was – a cripple!

Everything seemed to have gone so well, the scars had not really been a problem since before Christmas, at least not until now. *Now* Spike was leaving again; *now* Xander was ‘out’ to the *whole* office staff, a fact that was obviously not popular with some of the less tolerant males; *now* the doctors were unsure of the prognosis on his eye; *now* Willow was suggesting drastic measures for his old wound; and… the worst… *right now*… Spike had run off to do whatever, and still wasn’t home… and could be in trouble again, and, and, and, and…  His eye and the old wound both throbbed.

Not knowing how to claw his way up from the apparent desolate abyss, Xander began to repeat old, hard learned lines – ‘I’m stupid’, ‘I’m unlovable’, ‘I’m unattractive’. Unable to break the internal beating, he did the only thing that made sense any more. He rolled over and curled into an even tighter ball, dripping a steady stream of tears from an already aching good eye onto his pillow, and marked the his growing hurt with an widening, damp patch.

Spike had dusted six vampires before spotting the young and (if he recalled correctly) very ‘green’, slayer at the top end of the cemetery. Much as he would have liked to teach her what a Master could really do to her, he decided to leave the lesson for another day. He started the return journey at a leisurely pace, but began to speed up as he felt the prickle of daylight. It was still an hour or so away but nonetheless, close enough to be a problem, should he meet with some delay.

Arriving at the apartments with time to spare, the vampire launched himself from the grounds, landing mid-balcony to smell a variety of distressing scents. Cursing his own stupidity, he sped into the bedroom to find Xander curled up dry retching again. (By the human’s count, it was the third time since midnight.)

“Bloody Hell Pet! Come here..” He cupped Xander’s chin and drew the clammy forehead up for a kiss. It was odd that a human could be so hot, yet so cold and sweaty all at once!

“Spike?!” Swollen red rimmed eyes fluttered open to meet crystal blue.

“Ahhh luv… S’me… What’ve you been doin’ to yourself?”

“Oh… the usual, tango lessons, impromptu performance art, occasional brain meltdowns, that sort of thing… God Spike! I was so worried! Where have you been??”

“Out.” Spike stroked the dark hair and continued the caress absently as he stared at his lover.

“So you disappear for hours then go all deadboy taciturn on me?” Xander coughed, winced, then desperately grabbed onto Spike’s coat, groaning weakly as another wave of pain and nausea hit.

“C’mon luv! Calm down… I’ve got you… I’ve got you... always… Shhhhhh pet… C'mon, Shhh.” Spike continued to pet the damp hair as Xander’s retching dissolved into tears of hurt and frustration for the umpteenth time that night. There was a difference this time though. He was cradled in the lap of possibly the only other individual who really understood such loneliness, pain and self loathing. As the torrent slowed, he also realized that Spike was the only person who had ever *really* cared what he felt.

He began to return the caress weakly (albeit, the only thing he could reach was Spike’s knee), and reluctantly acknowledged his own fear. Being ignored, being put down, being alone, those things he understood. He was familiar with being used as a foil for someone else’s argument, as the ‘go fetch guy’, or even just for sex. But, being the object of someone’s adoration; to experience the undying (or in this case undead!) devotion of another being, one half of a long term, adult partnership; to be the recipient of unconditional love… Those things were all utterly new, and by far the most frightening thing he could think of. Yet he knew that Spike really would give him all that and more. His head throbbed again.

Spike saw another tear emerge from his partner’s eye – this time accompanied by a heavy sigh and hitched breath that was atypical and seemed to have little to do with the earlier violent stomach actions. Spike detected the change in Xander’s scent as he continued to stroke his partner. The misery and fear disappeared gradually, replaced by contentment and slight arousal.

“You going to tell me what’s really up, pet? ‘Cause I had something to ask you that’s best done if the air’s clear.”

“You really do love me don’t you… I mean… I really know you do but… Ahh geez Spike… Whatever I say is going to come across *so* needy and stupid… and I… You know I love you *so* much right? I just… How could you care for me like that? I’m such a mess… and… and… You’re this beautiful being with the whole eternal-guy thing going for you… And I’m just… Xander…” Another tear sprung forth.

“Who is the daft human in my lap that I happen to love… Now will you stop all this!” Spike paused in his petting, lifted his friend to look directly into the good eye. “Look at me pet… and I don’t care if you’re seein’ bloody quadruple at this point – just saves me sayin’ it more than once! We’re goin’ to fix that eye of yours once and for all, and sort the where’s and why’s of what’s between us, yeah?” Xander nodded. “But you need to listen careful-like, you with me?…" Another nod. “If you agree that is… if you agree for me to fix that eye like this…” Spike cupped his friend’s face in both hands and his tone became deadly serious, “There will be a price and one you may not be ready to pay.”

Xander looked genuinely confused and a little fearful. “You’re… you’re gonna to turn me?”

Spike smiled wickedly then sobered, “Thought about it luv – you’d make a magnificent Childe – but no, not gonna do that.”

“Then…?”

“If we exchange enough blood to fix your good eye, I’d have to mark you as my consort, otherwise it wouldn’t have the right effect.” Spike’s voice was almost at a whisper.

“And this consort thingy would mean what exactly?”

“It means you would be mine, and I will be yours… for all time… until death. It means you would crave my touch and I yours. It means we would be connected a little in spirit, know each other’s emotions, that sort of thing. It means you would hardly age. Being a consort means you will take on faster healing, and if I give you my blood you will always heal. There are a few other things as well - ‘s a little different for everyone.”

“But you’re certain it would fix the eye?” Xander squeezed his good eye closed and sighed.

The blonde note the reaction and quickly retreated from the idea. “Yeah pet. But I can see… Look we’ll ring the witch again, there must be another spell or some such” Spike removed his hands from Xander’s face and began to move away.

Xander’s eye snapped open and he grabbed the withdrawing arm of the obviously crestfallen vampire, “No don’t move away! I’m just trying to understand why *you* would let *me* become your consort. I mean… God Spike, I would do it in a heartbeat, even without the bonus of the eye thing… but why would you… And… for all time?”

“You really are a daft bugger aren’t you! I love you, you git. I love you and I want you, but I just didn’t…” He heard the human’s heart begin to speed up alarmingly and was then pulled toward the brunette and kissed soundly.

Xander finally released him and pressing his forehead to Spike’s whispered, “I love you William Aurelius … Please… what do we have to do? Because my answer is yes, I want to be your consort, to be yours for all time and for you to be mine.”

Spike pulled away giving Xander a brilliant smile, then dropped his eyes in an almost shy move and shook his head a little. “I never thought anyone would… not after… God Xan… feel like I’m gonna burst … I really want…”

“No arguments here… but you still haven’t said… Do we… a ceremony or a spell?”

“You take my blood and I take a little of yours… and it has to be…” Spike cleared his throat and took his partner’s hand. Xander began to worry then Spike continued “It has to be while I’m taking you then you’re take me.”

“That’s it?”

“There are some words before we bite.”

“Which are?”

“Ego tribuo vos meus cruor libere – means I give my blood freely. And there’s some after - Vestri pro infinitio - Yours for eternity.”

Despite Xander’s head still aching and his view of the world being distorted, he grinned almost maniacally, pulled Spike down onto the bed and began to undress him with trembling, urgent hands. He managed to get the T-shirt off, but failed to undo the button on Spike’s jeans so relented and removed his own boxer shorts as Spike undid his own fastenings and wriggled out of the denim.

Already semi-hard with the thought of what they were about to do, Spike rolled onto his companion and crushing the brunette’s mouth in a passionate kiss. As their erections collided, they were both instantly hard. Spike continued to plunder Xander’s mouth and moved his entire body up and down Xander’s caressing torso with torso.

He finally pulled away from the sweet mouth, straddled Xander and ground out a needy, “You in me now… Please Xan, now.” With that, he reached over to the side table, grabbed some lube and prepared himself quickly, then slicked his partner. Lifting Xander’s manhood slightly, he sank down onto it with a groan and began a slow rhythm.

Despite the lack of lengthy foreplay, Xander recognized this as ‘making love’, not ‘a quick shag’, or game playing, or simple coupling. He took Spike’s proud erection with a reverent hand and stroked it at the same leisurely pace as the body he was in now moved. Well practiced hands explored Xander’s torso, tweaking nipples until they hardened and caressing the midline hairs until the fingers swirled around, then moved in an out of his navel.

Finally Spike began to pick up the pace and leaned forward to lave the area at the base of Xander’s neck where he would soon bite. He groaned a little as Xander’s hand tightened around his shaft and his prostrate was massaged with the change of angle. Shifting into game face, he reached up, sliced his own neck with a sharp fingernail, and began to recite the words. Xander stared up into the yellow eyes and echoed each one in turn, then stretched his neck to give Spike full access. He felt a short sharp pain as the fangs sank into his flesh and lifted his head ever so slightly to latch onto Spike’s bleeding wound.

Now joined in the blood cycle, both partners drank several deep drafts before simultaneously pulling mouths off as they climaxed. Spike covered Xander’s chest with his seed as Xander flooded his lover’s rear channel with his own warmth. They both completed the concluding vow just in time for Spike to collapse onto his partner.

He lay still for several minutes then rolled them both until Xander was on top. “Your turn to ride love.” They repeated the process with a virtual mirror image of the previous coupling. When Spike reopened the wound on his neck for Xander to drink, the human groaned his approval, and bit down hard this time, taking far more of the red ambrosia into himself than the previous exchange as his own blood was extracted.

Xander repeated the last part of the vow and began to feel an odd prickling sensation up and down his spine, he was also aware of a flood of loving emotions emanating from his lover. Rather than the link terrifying him as he anticipated, it felt like coming home somehow.

He smiled at the warmth of the feelings, then leant down again and kissed Spike with all the adoration he felt. His eye, and the socket, had both ceased throbbing and he lay down to cuddle into Spike’s torso, the vampire still embedded deep inside his rear. “I’m yours”, he whispered and heard the reciprocal “And I’m yours”. And with that, they both slept.