Xander fell to his knees beside Giles. The elder Watcher was unable to lift his head away from the headboard and pile of pillows though he was obviously struggling to do so. The Consort Xander’s distress was only matched by his Master’s, permission given to hurt through their link. He hugged Giles briefly then kissed the older man on the cheek as Giles answered Spike in almost a whisper “I ahhh, haven’t been too well of late.”
“Well state the bloody obvious you pillock! So what exactly is wrong or haven’t you even bothered to find that out?”
“Oh, I know precisely the problem… I have, it seems, a combination of Hepatitis A, early stages of prostate cancer, and of late I’m told… double pneumonia. The first being an old issue, the second new and the third one apparently triggered by the others and ahhh, overdoing it of late it seems.” Giles attempted to adjust his position, but collapsed back, resigned to being uncomfortable.
Xander moved swiftly to assist. He lifted their friend easing him forward while Spike rearranged the pillows, then gently lowered the very pale and now sweating elderly man back onto the soft cushions. Giles sighed and whispered “Thank you.”
Spike sat on the bed with the aging Watcher, a man who had chained him into a bathtub and who had not, until their latter years, really ever trusted the vampire. Now the High Master took Giles’ hands in his, and stared into tired eyes that should have been sparkling pale blue but were now a dull shade of grey, and began to speak quietly. “You silly bugger. What the hell are you doing here then?? Aren’t those modern medicos gonna fix you all up with drugs ‘n whatnot?”
Giles sighed heavily barely stemming the flow of tears he felt so inclined to shed. The genuine concern in Spike’s gaze and the desperate look on Xander’s face had quite destroyed any bravado he intended to convey. He let his head fall back onto the headboard, closed his eyes and allowed two tears to squeeze from the outside corner of each eye. They slid down past his ears then dripped unceremoniously onto the pillows as his visitors waited in silence.
“Oh my dear boys, I am so tired… just so very tired… but…” He coughed painfully then cleared his throat, “This has to be done… You have to succeed! Good lord, what is my life compared to thousands… of humans, wiccans and vampires… hundreds of thousands!”
Spike heard the racing heart again and quickly decided. He pulled away his left hand and bit the wrist hard in full game face. He and Xander had given their blood the previous day, but were both back to full strength, so he could only hope the old Watcher would take the offering.
Giles was not quite ‘with it’ after the effort of talking and had his eyes closed. He felt dry in the mouth, so took the dripping cool liquid assuming it was a squirt from the drink bottle he had sitting on his dresser. It was only when a coppery taste filled his mouth, a strong ‘zing’ passed through his system, and the cool wrist finally pressed against his mouth that he registered what Spike had done.
He opened his eyes and looked up with wonder rather than the revulsion Spike had dreaded. Giles fed as the wound healed, and was then presented with the wrist of the Consort, the boy he had always considered as the nearest thing he would ever have to a son. The Consort’s blood seemed to have the same strength as the Master’s, and Xander stroked the grey hair and continued to whisper a litany of details about how much they cared for him and needed him as he took the powerful elixir. He looked hard at the stunning brunette as he drank. Xander looked younger, if anything, and exuded confidence and power, even more than when they had met in Switzerland it seemed. Giles pulled away from the wrist, sighed and nodded his thanks then closed his eyes once more.
His entire system was vibrating with some preternatural energy, causing his body to demand that he sleep and heal, or at least cease its decline.
Spike and Xander waited until Giles was fully unconscious before letting themselves out of his room, then sent for the wiccan healers, asked Mistress Minna to find the best oncologist in Moscow, and contacted the Ludwig Institute in Geneva to track down a friend of Anton’s. The world renowned cancer surgeon agreed to fly to St Petersburg as soon as he had a full report from the doctors attending Giles. Minna also arranged for a nurse to monitor the aging Watcher on a twenty four hour basis. No expense would be spared.
Spike stormed back to their rooms after making the arrangements. “He’s not bloody well doin’ a thing ‘til we sort this! What the *hell* is he thinking, stupid bugger!!!?”
Xander pulled his partner into a tight embrace, “Just what you and I would think… He’s trying to save the world… or at least a big chunk of it… seem to remember another person pretty determined to do that on a few occasions?! Hmm??? Come on honey…”
Despite his Consort’s hold and proximity, Spike was shaking all over in a way that was concerning, but as Xander caught the whispered words “’S like mother all over again!”, and saw the game face flash before tears began and the words came again, Xander knew exactly why. It wasn’t just about Giles.
“I should have insisted, the *best* doctors… because we knew! … We’d lost father and she…. She didn’t want me to be alone… but *I knew*, and they didn’t really have a way… and she wouldn’t… so I let her suffer … because I did as she asked… I would have done anything!… and all I ever wanted to do was… so I… and there was dust… Oh Pet! Not again! The best doctors… it has to be.”
The stress of the last few days, the reminders of his life of old, and seeing the man that they were hoping would deliver the message to the Watchers so ill and propped up in a four poster bed, had tipped the scale. In the privacy of their suite the High Master was near collapse with fatigue. Xander scooped up by his lover and carried the blonde to their bed where he was stripped then surrounded by the solid flesh of his Consort and the fluffy bedcovers. Spike was asleep before Xander had finished tucking them in.
………………
Heavy drapes blocked out the ever-present sunshine… unlike the joy of winter in this part of the world, summer meant a perpetual life inside or underground for vampires… and a ‘lean period’ in the old days.
It was part of the bargain with the humans in the clans’ care. Blood was provided in the ‘light months’, in exchange for assistance, be it monetary, advisory or practical, when the dark came. The humans knew that a number of the vampires had been master craftsmen, experts in animal husbandry or business prior to turning, and with many decades of experience, their input was invaluable to the community. Animal blood or donations was the preferred payment generally, and during the lean ‘light’ months, even more so. Something the Slayers had yet to come to terms with, something they were about to address.
Xander stared at the ceiling and smiled a little when his absent stroking of Spike’s torso evoked a purr as he considered the enormity of what they were trying to do.
Xander had all but adjusted to the life in the dark, though occasionally (like today) wandered outside to snooze in the sunshine while his partner slept on in their bed. Spike, like other Masters fortunate enough to enjoy a human consort, was then the happy recipient of the sun’s warmth through the link and the feeling of a ‘toasted’ human body crushing him in the late afternoon. The joy of an electric blanket and the heat suit really had made a difference, but Spike knew the yearning for light, and loved the feel of Xander’s naturally warmed skin as his consort dived onto his lovely mate to share the heat after a few hours in sunshine.
…………………
Spike woke slowly in the early afternoon, registering a sun heated body radiating warmth onto his legs, and a hot mouth and limber tongue caressing, then engulfing his very awake erection. He relaxed into the sensation as a pillow was pushed under his behind and the talented mouth navigated its way to his puckered entrance. Fingers replaced the penetrating tongue as the mouth nipped its way back up to welcoming lips. A particularly hard bite over Spike’s right nipple coinciding with the thrust of three, lube covered fingers and elicited a groan of need from the recipient. Within seconds, Xander removed his fingers, coated his hard shaft with copious quantities of lube, then used the angle of his partner’s willing body to his advantage and entered easily, groaning his own joy. He waited a moment while he calmed, then pulled out slowly, only to return, beginning an almost painfully slow rhythm, intent on drawing out the rise to mutual satisfaction.
After a lazy half hour of kisses, touching and impossibly tame pace, Spike could stand it no longer and began to buck into each thrust, forcing the speed and increasing the pressure of each penetration. Xander took the hint and picked up the tempo considerably. He knew just the angle and had been deliberated brushing Spike’s prostate only occasionally during their previous playtime. Now he pressed over the nub time and time again, so much so that their mating link flooded with lust filled imagery as Spike began to beg for completion.
A knowing hand found the Master’s erection as human teeth bit hard enough to break the skin on Spike’s neck. Xander drew enthusiastically on the wound, and as Spike came, he bit deeply into his consort’s neck, evoking almost instant completion his partner. Spike sprayed the two bellies with cool fluid whilst joyfully feeling himself flushed with Xander’s warm seed. Both savored the taste of exchanged blood and the renewed strength of their link, ultimately giving in to their bodies and snoozing, Xander still embedded in his lover.
……………………..
They rose an hour or so later. Their evening was to begin with an address to all the Watchers, Slayers and wiccans currently in their care.
Mistress Minna had outdone herself it seemed, the room abuzz with stories of the richness of their accommodation, the lavish food, and their guided tours of St Petersburg and surrounds. The following weeks promised a fairly punishing education schedule and renewed training, so the tourist activities had been both unexpected and very welcome. It was a masterstroke on Minna’s part, many of the slayers already more than impressed by her magnanimous nature, and, apparently, her stunning appearance and regal presence.
As the doors pushed open to signal the entrance of the High Master and his Consort there was instant silence. Spike and Xander walked the full length of the hall, their now trademark long black coats hinting at the muscular forms enveloped within, and the shift of the supple leather emphasizing a power that all in the room felt but few fully understood. Every slayer and witch shivered at the strength of the magical signature flowing from the pair. Two rather over excited young slayer fainted as Xander’s coat brushed their legs as he passed by. They were swiftly attended to by the Mistress’s staff.
It was a smaller crowd than the meeting with the clans, but the importance of the gathering was no less critical. Xander did as he had become accustomed, standing tall and proud with his hand resting on the High Master’s shoulder.
“My Consort and I thank you all for agreeing to come.” Spike spoke slowly and paused, looking from face to face, allowing the few seconds to give weight to his address.
“We all live in difficult and dangerous times, and our collaboration will be the key to saving thousands of lives, not just of vampires but of humans.” He and Xander noted the nods around the room, it seemed that Willow and Giles had indeed convinced more than a few Watchers of the folly that was the plan of their current administration.
“We therefore ask that during your time with us, you keep an open mind. Ultimately the decision is yours as to whether you are prepared to work with us. No one holds you here and you are certainly welcome to leave at any time if you wish.
“So for now I wish to introduce some of the collaborators in this venture.” Spike nodded at a minion standing by the entrance to the hall.
As the doors were opened thirteen of the Northern clan Masters entered the room led by the Mistress Minna and flanked by Willow. The senior wiccans present also stood and filed to the front to join the vampires. Spike waited for a moment then stood and addressed the room as four young wiccans began to hand out timetables to all present. Xander’s hand slid from the shoulder as Spike rose and he stepped forward so the ruling couple gave the definite message of solidarity to their audience.
“These are the Masters of the Northern clans, led by the Mistress, whom you know is your generous host. Also assisting in the following days are the wiccans from our local coven, along with sisters and brothers from farther afield – all led by the Mistress Willow Her reputation is legend as I am sure you are aware.
“There is no place for violence in this process and as you will learn, no vampire here is killing at this time. Indeed some have not killed even an animal… for decades.
“I ask that you too, pack away your stakes and appreciate the gift of the knowledge the wonderful individuals in front of you have to offer. I have their loyalty, and hope to gain yours.” Spike nodded at the Masters in front of him and they all turned to their High Master and fell to a formal kneel, oblivious of the shocked gasps of many in the room.
“Before we depart this evening, it is important that you know. The founder of the New Watchers’ Council, Rupert Giles, is currently being hosted by Mistress Minna at this time, but is gravely ill.” As expected a murmur of concern rippled through the room. Spike waited, then continued, “We are, however doing everything in our power to return him to health. Those of you who wish to visit him in his rooms are most welcome to do so, but we ask that you respect his physician’s wishes and wait until he is somewhat recovered. You will of course be given regular reports of his wellbeing.
“I thank you again for your attendance. There is a busy time ahead, and I encourage you all to have a restful evening and look forward to the next few weeks.”
The Wiccans, Watchers and Slayers filed out, but Willow, Dawn and the vampires remained. Spike waited until the door closed once more then opened his wrist, and bit deeply into Xander’s as the Mistress lifted the lid on a shallow bowl. For the second time in two days they allowed their blood to drop into the pool of blood and invited the Masters to drink. There was less of the ceremony of the previous evening, yet the reverence and respectful statements of “Thank you High Master, Consort” were no less heartfelt as they drank then departed.
Finally the Mistress excused herself, leaving only the four old friends in the ornately decorated hall. Willow and Dawn hadn’t failed to notice the two males licking each other’s wounds closed, nor the fatigue spelt out in their handsome features.
Xander stepped forward and took Willow’s hand, while Spike collected Dawn’s. Despite his statement regards visitors, the four ascended the stairs to Giles suite.
Even from the door Willow could see. Gile’s breathing was almost pained and almost imperceptibly shallow, there was an oxygen mask over his face, and a drip in his arm. Various monitors were hooked up and it was obvious from the readouts that his body was struggling.
The nurse excused herself politely as the High Master entered, and Willow raced to their old friend’s side. His hands were icy cold to the touch but the eyes flickered open as she pressed palm to palm, and with some effort Giles turned his head enough to look at the group of very concerned faces.
He smiled weakly and whispered into the mask, “It seems the gang’s all here.” He managed to squeeze Willow’s hand before dissolving into a bout of painful coughing, elevating his heart rate and causing Dawn to dissolve into tears before the nurse flew into the room to assist in response to his monitors.