The operation had been most successful, only two soldiers lay dead, one shot in the confusion by his comrade, the second fatality an unfortunate result of opening the demon pens. Of the others, five had collected serious enough wounds to require medical treatment and seven were still unconscious courtesy of tranquilizer darts or well placed hits to the head. Other than Petros who was now being tended to by Jaala, Anton and Stephano’s group had all escaped relatively uninjured and were standing in a small group as the captives were led or carried to the transport. The group of freed slayers huddled near the kitchen guarded by Anton’s man, also the wiccan’s loyal guard.
Willow emerged minutes later, having reestablished the power to the building and setting off a reformat instruction to all network hard drives in the building via the now hacked server. With their captives loaded ready to depart, Stephano and his three uninjured men systematically checked each room for any ‘stragglers’, disconnected computer hardware and disabled communications material. They photographed the weapons cache, and operations room, shredded medical files then systematically destroyed medical ‘samples’. The rest was left for Anton’s ‘clean up’ team now notified and due to arrive within the hour.
The rounded up the Initiative soldiers and three scientists, all cuffed and blindfolded, were ready to be loaded into a troop carrier that Kerryn had somehow ‘requisitioned’ from the motor pool at the rear of the building and was now backing up to the courtyard entrance. They would spend the night at Anton’s villa then be driven to Rome.
Before anyone moved, Spike emerged carried his beloved out of the building. Buffy’s breath hitched and the rest of the group remained silent as the glamoured redhead vampire, still in full game face, marched without acknowledging the group and passed by the truck now part way blocking the entrance of the villa. He was clasping the damaged body that they all knew to be Xander to his chest, Buffy turned pained eyes to Anton then Willow, the latter already shedding silent tears. She knew the Watchers’ Council had begun this for the pair, she had been a part of the discussion, the persuading and the decision. And Xander, the consort, the White Knight, and his partner Spike, were the ones who had paid most dearly of all their number in the whole debacle.
Settling Xander on the ground beside the car for a moment, Spike tried the door, noting with some relief, that it was open. He tugged a thin dark blue travel blanket from the rear window shelf. He quickly stripped and shredded the skimpy dress from his partner and flung the shoes into the bushes. Aided by his own tears and some of the of the torn material, he wiped the bizarre face paint away as best he could, then wrapped Xander gently in the fuzzy folds of the blanket. He lifted the now fully unconscious bundle to his chest once more and eased them both into the back seat to wait for the others to return.
Gregor had followed Spike to the courtyard carrying his bound charge, fireman style. He dropped the commander of the unit at Anton and Buffy’s feet. The Slayer recognized the man immediately though with the glamour in place her former lover showed no sign of knowing his captors. She said nothing, though Anton felt the anger and betrayal rolling from his partner in near tangible waves, and as Riley attempted to sit up, the Slayer shot him in the behind with a tranquillizer dart.
Stephano gave brisk instructions to his men, their prisoners would spend the night as guests in the Immortal’s ‘old cellar’ before being accompanied by back to Rome under formal arrest. The workings had already been set in place. This was a matter of organized foreign espionage on Italian soil. Stephano grinned back at Anton as he waved off the truck. As they had initially planned this operation, he had quietly pointed out to Anton that the authorities would take ‘quite some time’ to sort out such a mess. He now predicted that, even with no more evidence than his men were currently gathering, there would likely be four or five years of court proceedings, numerous high level inquiries, tricky extraditions and an unfavourable international focus on the Initiative’s operations… And… a number of unfortunate leaked documents and embarrassing revelations if that wasn’t enough to make a hanging basket of all the red tape. With Anton and Stephano’s combined network of influential press and government officials throughout Europe, it was unlikely they would even need Spike or the Council’s assistance – though undoubtedly any help was welcome.
Despite Stephano’s buoyant mood and confidence, he sobered for a moment, looked across at the frightened group of rescued slayers and added, “It will not shut them down forever.”
Anton smiled ruefully, “Indeed, but it will bring some relief to our communities for now.” He moved to shake his ally’s hand, “Thank you friend. This alliance will not be forgotten. You will always be welcome in my home.” He looked across at Stephano’s injured man and then back to the concern on Stephano’s face, “I guarantee, Petros will be tended to by my personal physician, and will return to you, fully restored to health.”
“What about him?” Stephano nodded at the still figure on the ground at Buffy’s feet.
Anton looked at Buffy, she answered coldly for all of them, “We’ll let Spike decide.”
……………………..
Vaguely aware of voices and movement, Xander came to, cradled against a strong chest with a familiar wrist dripping precious blood against his mouth. He felt and heard the strong, reassuring purr resonating through his chest. He was vaguely aware of giving a moan then felt the wonderful elixir flow over his tongue and down his throat, then gave in to the odd sensation of falling backwards into blackness.
The next time consciousness returned, Xander noted a soft warm chest against his cheek, the sound of a car engine and leather against his heels. He realized that someone was still holding tight and reveled for a moment in the scent of the protective arms, Spike… mate, but still couldn’t focus on any image that made sense so fell back into oblivion.
The third time Xander roused they were still moving. The vampire felt a jolt through their link and just as Spike feared, feelings of relief and joy were abruptly, and violently, interrupted by memories of heinous violation, the last few days pulled into sharp relief. It was too much for the link as painful emotions flowed. In desperation Spike fell into game face, attempted to open his wrist once more, almost choking with his own tears as his partner frantically pushed away from the loving embrace, the feelings of horror, defilement and self-loathing flowing freely from the distressed consort to distressed vampire.
Spike held him even tighter, “You don’t get to do that Luv. You’re mine… Don’t care! You’re mine!... C’mon pet Please?! Please!.... I’ll kill ‘em all every last one… Cmon Xan!…. Hush now, hush… it’s all gone, it’s done… you’re mine… they’re gone…. C’mon luv, you’re beautiful… and you’re here …..and you’re Mine!” As the struggles reduced and Xander latched onto the open wrist once more Spike kept talking, “There now. Decent bath and then I am claimin’ you again… Bugger it … cast of thousands if I ‘ave to….” Spike watched Xander drift back into oblivion.
Anton brushed away his own tear as he listened to the exchange then refocused on the road ahead. *There but for the love … goes *my* partner…* He sent a silent prayer to the deities that had kept his beloved safe this night.
…………………………………..
Spike carried Xander from the car to their room, pausing only to fix his host with an unreadable stare and grind out a few words as he was about to ascend the stairs, “I want time with his captors later.” then disappeared from view.
Anton had smelt it too as the vampire held his consort in the car. The blood, the distress, and… the… men. Back safe in the entrance hall of their elegant home, the Immortal held Buffy’s (now thankfully *un*glamoured) hand as Spike made the announcement. He lifted the fingers to his mouth and kissed trying to convey the seriousness of the matter as simply as he could. “He won’t kill them all, but this is *very* personal.”
Buffy’s eyes went wide as she realized the implied message and just what must have occurred, “Oh God… Xan!... No!! What about…” Her eyes flicked to the group of frightened girls spilling into the entrance hall.
“The slayers are untouched, your watcher… merely terrified…. They were valuable commodities. What they did to Xander seems to have been… motivated by a ‘different’ agenda.”
Buffy paled then looked over at Willow who, though now in the process of lifting the glamours, was also within earshot of the conversation. The witch’s eyes were bordering on black and Buffy suddenly understood the urge to flay someone. Leveling an icy stare at her partner, she hissed, “Let him at them!”
…………………………..
Spike felt the itching of his own skin as the glamour was removed and lowered his precious bundle onto the thick cotton covered goose down duvet. He left the blanket wrap, noting with distress that it was stained and damp with blood around his consort’s rear. As an afterthought he pulled off his duster, threw it over the slightly shivering though still unconscious body, then divested himself of his t-shirt, pushing it under the lower half of his charge to prevent any evidence of the abuse being unwittingly recorded on the bed-linen.
As the bath was run, Spike stripped himself of the heat suit and bit his wrist, letting drops of precious Master’s blood mix with the heated water, the healing salts… and his tears.
Xander woke again, he was warm, immersed in water and finally realized that it was a wrist that he was reflexively sucking on. Eye still closed, he felt a familiar hand gently caressing his person with a sponge of some sort and luxuriated, arching back against the strong body behind him. *At last… those bastards finally finished me off…. Heaven… knew heaven would smell like Spike… and taste.... and feel……*
He registered being lifted from the bath, wrapped, dried and carried, then finally felt himself placed under the soft covers that smelt… like home. Xander opened his good eye to meet a pair of desperately worried blue and allowed his conscious mind to accept it as reality. He gave a cry of relief before pulling Spike down for a somewhat awkward, but no less passionate, hug and kiss.
Spike had heard the shift in heart rate and was ready for another fight,so was caught by surprise as the kiss came. He pulled away slightly and found himself staring down, teary eyed as his consort who managed to rasp out a “Knew you’d come… Hey….” before reaching up to touch Spike’s tear dampened jawline and pulling him down again until their lips met.
Eventually Xander broke the contact, Spike continued to stroke the still damp hair, then smoothed his consort’s eyebrows unnecessarily and ran a finger across the empty socket in the process.
“Never again pet…. *No one touches you again*.”
Spike then proceeded to lick every inch of his consort’s front, pausing only to smear blood on scratches and cuts, then gently turned the beloved man onto his front. This would be the most difficult. He moved over the body, covering it with his, whispered into Xander’s left ear, “Gonna claim you again pet… get rid of their filth… you’re mine…. *mine*”
He rolled his consort slightly to one side and bit into the far too pale neck at the place of his previous mark. After two pulls of the precious red liquid, he licked until the wound closed then eased his boy back to his relaxed position with face in the soft covers.
Licking and caressing down the back, Spike noted every bruise, scrape and lesion. He avoided the blackened and bruised entrance and continued his ministrations all the way to Xander’s toes. Even they seemed to have been scraped raw for some reason. Each additional abuse screamed to his demon for retribution. He buried the anger…. For now.
Finally moving back to the mounds he had so recently worshipped, he placed a kiss on either side then leaned up to whisper “Cleaning you of their filth pet … you are pure and beautiful and mine…. And now you’re clean…. You are so beautiful pet… You’re mine and beautiful and….” Spike broke off to place kisses down his consort’s, still healing, bruised back.
Xander felt the tenderness and the love, not just through the link but physically, yet as his buttocks were gently parted and Spike paused, he still flinched.
Spike began to purr and petted his traumatized friend. This would not fix everything that had passed, but it might begin the healing…. He began to lave each buttock with slow deliberate strokes, each one in turn. Gradually his tongue made its way to the cleft and finally the pucker.
Xander was keening quietly but thankfully it seemed, from the pleasant sensation and not in distress.
Spike plunged in noting the residual blood, feeling the tattered muscles and tasting the foul nature of another man’s seed still present inside his consort. He licked and sucked and spat the vile fluid from his beautiful lover, coating the walls with his own healing saliva then, satisfied that he had cleared the impurities, bit hard on his middle finger and swiped his own blood through the damaged tunnel. His patient keened for a moment then groaned quietly in relief and began to breathe more slowly as he fell asleep.
Spike finally moved up, gently rolled his lover over once more, placed a chaste kiss on his forehead then carefully tucked the covers around him.
He had matters to attend to.