Broken Revenge

Story by Lit Gal

Xander/Spike: Slavery, D/s, Hurt/Comfort, Reference to past torture, Bondage
......NC-17 (not kidding, stop now if you're easily squicked)

Chapter 5:

"Right then, no matter what she says, you don't get your knickers in a twist," Spike ordered as they stood outside a bar in Los Angeles.

"Yes, Master," Xander agreed as he took several deep breaths of the dirty air. That was a mistake, and Xander felt his eyes tear up a little as his lungs burned with the exhaust from the highway on the other side of the concrete wall. No wonder demons had taken over this part of the city.

"And if she won't help, we'll just bloody find another way. Got it?"

"Yes, Master," Xander agreed. Somehow knowing that Spike was a persistent, single-minded bastard was so reassuring at times like this.

"Right." Spike took a deep breath as he stood outside the door to the club hidden inside a plain looking warehouse. "Bloody hate these bastards," Spike said under his breath before knocking. Xander stood behind and to the left of his Master on what he considered his "real world" manners. He kept his head slightly tilted enough to show his deference toward his Master without catching too much attention.

A window in the door slid open with a rusty hiss, and Xander couldn't help thinking about bad 1950's movies about prohibition. But instead of a gangster in a pin-stripe suit, the six inch by twelve inch opening showed a grey-faced demon with horns that curled around like a ram's… or a Fyarl demon's horns. Xander barely contained a grim smile as he realized that he had a truly strange set of random facts rattling around in his brain.

"What?" the demon snapped.

"Open the bloody door. Why the hell do you think I knocked? Wanker." Spike flashed his game face, and the demon cocked his head curiously.

"You that souled-up vamp?"

"Bloody hell, no. And if you even think about callin' me that again, I'll rip your horns off your head and shove 'em up your arse," Spike snarled in a thick accent, and the game face was now back for real.

"Yeah, and how am I to know that?" the demon snarled. Oh yeah, this was going ever so well.

"'Cause I'm here to meet Calsha," Spike snapped back. The demon's head cocked to the other side briefly and the gaze moved over to Xander who kept his head down and watched surreptitiously from under his hair.

"Wait here." The small window screeched shut again and Xander could feel Spike's growl vibrate the vampire's entire body. Since he couldn’t do anything to help, Xander simply waited patiently until the click announced the opening of the door one second before the heavy metal swung open.

"'Bout time," Spike complained as he headed into the darkness of the club. Once inside the door, Xander made a special point of staying close as he stood on a catwalk looking down at a dance floor and bar with more demon varieties than he had ever seen in one place. Faith with her love of violence and demon fighting would have considered this heaven.

Spike started down the metal grate stairs with a pounding of heavy Doc Martens, and Xander stayed as close as possible without tripping on his Master. He only realized he was being obvious when Spike reached the bottom of the stairs, and Spike's hand reached out and took Xander by the wrist. Spike quickly pulled Xander's hand up to the back of his waistband, and Xander stood confused for a half second. Then he gave his master a small smile as he grabbed his Master's jeans tightly. As Spike threaded his way through the crowded room of dancing and fucking demons, Xander held on and followed.

"'ello, luv," Spike purred in his sexiest voice as he came to the far side of the room. Xander would have gone to his knees, except that Spike's arm reached around and pulled him to his Master's side in a one-armed embrace. "Appreciate you comin'," Spike said, and now Xander glanced over to see the blue demoness from the demon market where they had found Willow and Tara. She was perched on a tall barstool, long legs crossed, looking over the rim of her drink with an eyebrow cocked at Spike.

Her long tail curled around one of the wooden chair legs, and her large muscular slave stood beside her wearing jeans and a tight black t-shirt. The clothes made him look even larger, which was scary considering he'd been pretty damn big at the market in Las Vegas.

"For the price you offered, I'd be a fool to ignore your message. However, I am not going to get myself banned from the Midwest shows for you and your strange obsession for certain humans." The blue demon calmly sipped her drink as she ran a possessive hand down her slave's arm. He didn't react, but instead divided his attention between the crowd and Spike like a Rottweiler guarding his owner.

"Oi, not the only one who gets attached," Spike gestured toward that possessive arm as he dropped into a chair, pulling Xander into his lap. Xander had a brief image of himself dancing with a very aggressive Buffy who was intent on showing her ownership over him. Well, that and making Angel jealous. Spike started stroking his inner thigh in an equally clear demonstration, the only difference was that Spike actually did own him, in more ways than one. Well, that and Spike was less likely to leave him aching and humiliated on the dance floor, and Spike was male, and evil, and actually cuter. Quite a lot of difference, then.

"I plan on my beauty here being the foundation of a new stable, better than the one those perfidious thieves stole after my father's death,” Calsha said. “I have yet to figure out why you are so fond of yours. You clearly don't mean to breed or trade."

"Have other reasons for keepin' him." Spike’s hand continued its path slowly up and down Xander’s thigh.

"Vampires," she sniffed. "You lot keep the flaws of your human hosts," the demon complained, but her disdain was softened with the hint of a friendly smile. Spike just snorted. For his part, Xander concentrated on not squirming under the attention of Spike’s wandering hand, which was quickly making his jeans more than a little uncomfortable.

"Maybe," Spike conceded. "But that don't change the fact that I'll pay well for information on the female I mentioned on the phone."

"It sounds like it was Govel's stock. He's moved into the Midwest shows since your sire shut down the West Coast, not that he's very popular with the true breeders, but he has good enough stock that some breeders are buying from him under the table."

"I'll get ya enough money to cover four breeding females if you get me into the show, and buy me the female I point out," Spike said in a suddenly serious tone of voice. The hand that had stroked Xander's thigh non-stop now stilled.

"That's a generous offer," Calsha said slowly. "Perhaps too generous. What's your interest in this female?"

Spike cocked his head. "Really not any of your bloody business, is it now?"

"If you're planning something at the show that could get me banned, then it is definitely my business," and now the demon's eyes flashed an inhumanly brilliant blue and her tail whipped the chair legs.

"Bloody hell, I'm not looking to get anyone banned from anywhere. I do, however, plan on getting what I want. So you can either profit off that, or you can soddin' well watch as I take it from someone else."

"Vampires." Her hissed comment seemed to be her final word.

"Right then, I guess somebody else will be makin' a profit off helpin' me." Xander felt Spike's hands gently tipping him off his lap, and he started to stand so that Spike could get up as well. Xander kept his eyes down and he tried not to panic at the thought of their best resource refusing to help.

"I didn't say I wouldn't help," Calsha said smoothly just as Xander reached his feet.

"You didn't say you would, either, and I'm soddin' not puttin' up with this manipulative shite."

"And here I thought you were beginning to learn patience..." Calsha's words were followed by her slave sliding gracefully to his knees next to her chair. Spike's hand remained on Xander's hips, and Xander waited as Spike made up his mind. After several seconds, Spike pulled Xander back down to his lap.

"Not bloody likely." Spike's words were harsh but then Xander watched as Spike lowered his head and gave Calsha a wicked grin. Then Spike's hand began his wandering across Xander's thigh again, and Xander didn't think of anything other than how to get that hand to do something just a little bit more interesting. Xander squirmed slightly, but Spike's hand retreated leaving Xander frustrated and aching.

"The last time I agreed to help you look for someone it ended up with an entire auction getting called on account of fire, panic, and full out frontal attack." Calsha's hairless tail caressed her slave's chest before sliding down to the waistband of his jeans.

"Oi! Wasn't my bloody fault my no-good sire had to come charging in on his white horse," Spike complained, and now Xander felt talented fingers work the button of his jeans.

"Does that mean your sire's going to come charging in again?"

"Not bloody likely. He doesn't even know we're going this time." Xander stifled a groan as Spike popped the top button of his jeans, and Xander wondered when he had developed an exhibitionistic kink. Knowing that others were watching and wanting and not able to have him because Spike would rip their arms off... that made him horny enough to moan a little louder.

"Somehow I'm still not comforted. Why do you care about one female anyway? You seem to be rather... pleased with your current acquisition."

"Eyes off my pet, luv. I'm very happy with him." Now Spike spoke with a sharper tone and narrowed his eyes in challenge. Xander squirming began in earnest as the show of possessiveness set off a wave of need. "Doesn't mean I don't want another."

"Ah, but you're not asking about another. You're asking about a particular one," the blue demon pointed out shrewdly. "So, I have to ask myself, is this like when you were looking for two particular witches? Your questions have a bad habit of leading to disasters and catastrophes."

"Not goin' to happen."

"Are you sure? Your sire seems the sort to interfere."

"Already said I haven't told the poofter what we’re doin'." This time it was the demon's turn to look at Spike in disbelief, her tail curling up and wrapping around her slave's upper leg as she cocked her head to one side.

"You are one of the most intriguing creatures I have ever met, which is why I would like to trust you even when common sense and my instincts suggest that you're a cheating, lying bastard…”

"Thanks, luv," Spike interrupted but the demon continued, refusing to be swayed by Spike's sarcasm.

"… but if you can't give me a better story than this, I'm going to have to go with instinct and tell you to go fuck yourself."

"You can be a right bitch, you know that?"

"Of course, that's what you love about me, isn't it?" Calsha demanded tartly.

Spike snorted his answer. "Right then, this doesn't go past the two of us. Fact is the boy's rather fond of a particular female, a female who's already carrying his child. I happen to be rather fond of the boy. I assume you can figure it out from there." Spike's hand once again stilled, and Xander found his growing lust sidetracked by thoughts of what he had done, and who he had abandoned to the slavers.

"Ah, yes. They are very emotional pack animals. So many trainers forget that, but I do understand what your boy would be going through. My own boy sold himself into slavery just to save his former mate, and when I get him stable mates for breeding, I fully intend on allowing him to choose females with whom he is comfortable. And I fully intend to keep his mates for life."

The demon reached down and allowed her fingers to run through the man's hair. As Xander looked he could see a particularly intense expression on the man's face, and for one second he couldn't understand it. But then he looked down and saw the demon's tail disappearing into the man's open fly. He had a sudden appreciation for just how clever that tail could be, and the many uses its owner had for it. The man obediently held his body carefully still, but Xander could imagine the effort of concentration required, considering the growing bulge distorting the front of his jeans.

"Right then, so you'll help?" Spike's voice was carefully neutral, but Xander could feel the coiled tension in the body underneath him. For her part, Calsha simply sat and stared for the longest time. Finally she gave a small nod.

"Some might say I'm as foolish as the humans I train, but I've always had a soft spot for owners who care for their animals. I'll help."

"Always knew there was a reason I liked you." Spike flashed one of his widest smiles, and the business discussion seemed to be over, even though no details had been settled. Calsha leaned back with a drink in one hand while her other hand slowly wandered through her slave's hair, separating a small lock from the rest before rolling it between her fingers.

Spike's fingers found something more interesting to explore and Xander heard a rapid clicking sound as the zipper on his jeans was lowered. He braced one hand on Spike's shoulder as he struggled to keep still, but he was far less successful than Calsha's burly slave who continued to hold himself motionless, despite a fine misting of sweat that had appeared on his face.

Xander gasped for breath as Spike's hand brushed teasingly near the head of his cock. Struggling to stay motionless, he didn’t dare look down at the talented fingers that now slowly explored the sensitive notch under the head, brushing feather-light against the slit. Xander struggled to think of some image disgusting enough for to cancel out the rising lust that demanded that his body move, but nothing came to mind. Considering how many disgusting things he'd seen in his life, it said a lot that none of them were horrible enough to counteract the powerful desire that he felt for Spike.

Spike's other hand reached up under Xander’s t-shirt and began pinching and rolling a nipple. Xander suddenly realized that, for Spike, this was a game- he was trying to see how much Xander could take without moving. Without him sliding off Spike's lap and down to his knees between Spike's legs. Without him pulling the zipper down on Spike's jeans and swallowing him whole, feeling that magnificent cock in his mouth. Well, two could play that game.

Xander held his breath as he counted backwards in Spanish to control the rising wave of lust as Spike's fingers slowly worked their way into his jeans, sliding under to cup his balls. Unfortunately, Xander didn't know any numbers beyond diez, and so he had finished his counting long before Spike had finished his teasing. Long, long, long before. Xander panted as Spike played with Xander's body until Xander dug his fingers into his Master's shoulder in need. Xander could feel his muscles start trembling.

Spike lifted Xander by the waist, rearranging him so that they were face to face and Xander happily reached toward Spike's jeans, but Spike's hands closed over his, silently forbidding the touch. Xander glanced up at his Master in confusion, but Spike just pushed at Xander’s hands until he understood that Spike wanted him to clasp them at the small of his own back.

Groaning in need, Xander closed the fingers of his left hand around his right wrist in response to Spike's silent order. Now Spike's hand explored far more freely. Fingers reached up under Xander's shirt to pull at the other nipple. A thumb slid through the precum on the head of Xander's cock. Fingers pushed Xander's jeans open before reaching down to stroke his balls more firmly. Xander counted the same ten numbers in Spanish over and over as he fought the need to move under the gentle teasing touches.

"Bloody beautiful," Spike muttered, pulling Xander's t-shirt up and running his hands across the bare skin. A finger traced the outline of Xander's tattoo, and Xander started to seriously pant as he struggled to obey. Then Spike leaned forward and drove his fangs into Xander's muscle just beside the design. Xander gasped and pushed toward his Master as he struggled to keep his hands behind him. Just as the lust was started to become unbearable, where his training would break and he’d be unable to stop his hips from thrusting, the fangs were gone and Xander was left struggling to remember even his name much less any training at all. Dropping his forehead to Spike's shoulder, Xander breathed in the smell of the familiar leather and ached with a burning need to touch his swollen cock, to rub again his Master until he could fall over that cliff into release.

"Every demon here is watchin', wishin' they could feel you move so needy at their touch. Calsha herself is wonderin' what's better, her perfect slave who controls himself while smellin' of human lust, or my beautiful pet who wants me so bad not even Leshar's trainin' keeps him from squirmin' with need," Spike whispered. "Every demon here can smell ya, pet. Knows ya want me. Makes me feel like the biggest demon here," Spike confessed so quietly that his breath barely disturbed Xander's curls. Xander shivered at the raw lust he could hear in his Master’s voice.

Spike's fingers gave Xander's cock a quick squeeze before Xander heard a second zipper make that rapid clicking sound that sent shivers of anticipation through Xander's body. However, Spike hadn't given him permission to do anything, so Xander struggled against his own needs as he straddled his Master with his hands behind his back. He fought to remain still and obedient even while Spike stroked himself, throwing his head back in pure pleasure.

Xander wasn't even sure which he wanted more, to feel Spike's strong hands on his own cock or to feel Spike's cock under his fingers and in his mouth. Xander's whole body shivered with need at the thought of either.

"Go on then, pet," Spike said in a husky, deep voice. Xander practically whined his relief as he slid off Spike's lap and went to his knees between Spike's legs. Despite the fact that his own cock bobbed comically and borderline painfully, Xander concentrated on Spike. He placed a small chaste kiss on the very end before looking up into Spike's amused yellow eyes.

"That the best ya got?" Spike asked in mock-displeasure, and Xander smiled at the challenge in that tone. He started by trailing kisses down the shaft, blowing warm air across the moistened skin and watching as the flesh twitched. When Xander got to the balls, he opened and gently sucked one ball into his mouth, enjoying the musky smell and taste of his Master.

Xander continued to suck and roll that ball around in his mouth until Spike groaned loudly. Smiling, he released the one and moved to the other side. Now Spike was shifting in the chair, and Xander hurried to move to the main event before Spike came. Xander licked up the bottom of Spike's cock and then sucked the head into his mouth. As he knelt on the floor, he looked up at Spike with his head thrown back and his hands gripping the table.

Xander slowly slid down Spike's cock, relaxing as the hardness hit the back of this throat. Driving himself past the gag point, Xander slowly sank until his nose was deep in Spike's curls. Xander held that as long as he could, swallowing rhythmically around the cock and enjoying the incoherent noises Spike made. When the need for air forced him to back off, Xander panted though his nose and played with trapping the foreskin between his tongue and the back of his front teeth.

Spike's hand closed over a fistful of Xander's hair, and Xander thought Spike might want to control the thrusts, but the hand didn't push or pull. As Xander’s mouth sank on Spike's length again, the fist moved with him, just reminding him of who had control. Xander shivered as another wave of lust made his own cock twitch with need.

Xander pulled back a second time as the need for oxygen forced him to think about unimportant issues like air and consciousness. The third time, Xander didn't slowly sink, but rather drove himself forward, nearly gagging as his throat didn't have time to adjust. Either the speed of the thrust or the tightening of his throat in silent coughs drove Spike over the edge.

Xander could feel the unintentional thrusts as Spike started sliding over into orgasm. Xander held position through the first and second waves and then drew back so that he could taste the bitter salt of his Master, and that taste had overtaken chocolate in his own personal favorite food taste test. Xander swallowed as fast as he could, catching the last of Spike's orgasm.

Xander now took his favorite position with his cheek lying on Spike's thigh while he quietly mouthed the now shrunken penis. Spike's hands gently played in Xander’s shoulder-length curls, and Xander idly wondered if Spike would ever take him for a haircut. He had an image of himself with hair down to the floor gently sucking Spike's spent cock.

Xander arched his back in contentment as Spike's hand brushed the hair out of his face so that Xander could look up into Spike's blue eyes without moving.

"You forgettin' something?" Spike asked curiously, and Xander gave up his prize long enough to answer.

"Master?" he asked before going back to the gentle kisses on the side of Spike's cock.

"You haven't come, pet," Spike pointed out, and the ache in Xander's entire lower body made that perfectly clear. However, the comment wasn't formed in a question so Xander continued to worship Spike's cock as he looked up into his Master's amused expression. "Oi, you, bring me a towel," Spike demanded, and for a brief second, Xander thought his Master meant him, but then he noticed Spike's gaze was to a figure moving off to the right, and Xander dismissed the order from this thoughts as he concentrated on the cock under his lips. Usually Spike would be hardening again, but his Master wasn't cooperating today.

Spike held out his hand for something, and when Spike's hand came back into view, it had a plain white bar towel. "Right then, up you go." Xander unwillingly gave up his treat and stood at his Master's order. He didn't know what to expect, but what Spike did next certainly qualified as a surprise. Spike's hands on his hips turned him so that Xander was facing the club where demons continued to dance and fuck and drink, but now a good number of them also watched with wide eyes gleaming from their corners in the shadows.

Xander suddenly realized just how exposed he was with his jeans open and his hard cock hanging out obscenely. Then again if there were any vice cops in the club, they would have bigger concerns than Xander's dick. Xander felt himself being pulled backwards so that again he straddled Spike's lap with his legs open, only this time he had a lot more showing.

The blue demon still sat at the table across from them. Now the slave that knelt beside her chair trembled slightly and his hair was wet with sweat, but he continued to hold himself still as that tail obviously teased and tormented him. The blue demon had an amused expression on her face as she watched Spike and Xander, while her tail stroked her slave’s jeans and her hand continued to play with his now damp and sweaty hair.

Xander let his body relax into his Master as Spike's hands settled on his thighs. He had no idea why Spike decided to leave him flashing the bar, but it wasn't his place to question his Master, especially not in a demon bar. So Xander sat there on Spike’s lap, and demons continued to watch as the second slave continued to hold himself still under his own Mistress' attention.

"Finish yourself up then, pet," Spike ordered as he handed Xander the white towel, and for one second Xander drew a complete blank as he tried to figure out what Spike wanted. But then his mind filled in the blanks all too well. Eyes suddenly wide, Xander looked around at all the watching demons, and he didn't know if he could do this. Slowly he closed his fist around his own cock, and tried to ignore the circle of watching eyes.

To his own surprise, his first touch on his hot cock almost sent him over the edge, except for the distracting embarrassment of performing for a demon audience. Obediently, Xander moved his hand up and down on the painfully hard shaft. He needed to come so badly that his own touch was almost too much to bear, but no matter where he sent his eyes, demons looked back at him from the darkness. He was unhappily reminded of when he’d been a kid in school, unable to pee when other boys were at the urinals.

"I have you, pet. Go on then," Spike said softly, hands holding Xander’s hips possessively.

"Master," Xander whispered back, desperate to not disappoint Spike.

"They all want you. They all want you, and they can never ever touch you. I'd bloody break them into a thousand pieces if they so much as looked at you wrong." Spike's words sent another shiver of lust over Xander, and he decided that it didn't matter who was watching.

Xander reached down and with his fingertips brushed across his balls lightly sending a dart of pleasure up his backbone. He let his head fall back on to Spike's shoulder as he concentrated on moving his hand at the familiar pattern. It been a long time since he played with the old sock puppet of love, but there are some things a boy simply does not forget.

Xander clutched the white cloth in one hand, curling his fingers into it as he groaned. With his other hand, he moved up and down the shaft feeling the tendrils of lust and the sharp edge of delayed need take over his body. Xander started gasping air through his open mouth, and some part of his brain registered the fact that he probably looked like a beached fish. He didn't care.

Spike’s hands dropped from his hips to tighten on his thighs, and Xander moaned as he sped up the movement of his hand on his sore cock. He felt his balls tighten, and with a gasp he shot into the little white towel, barely getting it over his cock in time as his back arched in orgasm, his head thumping against Spike’s shoulder.

Xander lost himself in the need and the release, the pleasure and the pain, the feeling of Spike's hands anchoring him as they held onto his thighs. He felt as though every bone in his body had been magically turned something soft and squishy that he really couldn't come up with a name for because his brains at all leaked out of his ears. Or maybe out of his cock. He didn’t know which, and he didn’t care.

Strong arms reached around and took the towel, gently wiping the last traces from Xander’s cock before tucking him back into his jeans. Xander just lay there with his arms hanging, panting as if he’d run a marathon.

"Nice animal," Calsha commented. Xander tilted his head enough to see her slave had finally broken, his body sprawled on the floor bonelessly with a tell-tale stain on the front of his jeans.

"So you'll help us get his mate back?" Spike asked.

"I gave my word, even if it was just a vampire to whom I gave it," she shrugged, looking down fondly as her slave struggled to push himself up with his arms to get back up onto his knees. Calsha reached down and cupped the far side of his face before pulling him closer. He followed her pull until he was sitting on one hip and leaning into her legs for support. Xander wondered if he had that same stupidly blissed-out expression on his own face. He probably did, he realized.

"Right, call with the details then," Spike said, and Xander suddenly found himself lifted up onto his feet. Swaying a little as he tried to recover from his intense orgasm, Xander followed Spike across the dance floor. This time the demons moved smartly out of the way as they passed, and Xander could feel envious eyes on him. Funny enough, that really didn't bother him as long as he was following his Master.

Outside the warm California air had a feeling of coming rain, a sort of wet blanket feel that made Xander sweat the minute they started walking away from the club.

"Right then, that’s one job left in this bloody town, and then we can go home," Spike said with an edge of nervousness in his voice. Xander wondered what the one job was that produced such an unusual emotion in his bad-ass Master. However, it wasn't really his place to question, and so he followed behind silent and sated.

Chapter 6:

As they walked towards the car, Xander found himself walking with a rolling swing, as if he were wearing his hip chains. A few weeks ago that wouldn't have surprised him, but since he and Spike had been hunting, his gait had changed. Instead of the wide rolling gait of the harem boy in heat, he had learned a taut, controlled prowl that announced to prey and predators alike that he was not something that you wanted to mess with in a dark alley.

Now that Xander recognized his slave-boy gait had returned, he stumbled as one leg tried to swing wide and sexy while the other slid forward stealthily. Even though Spike hadn't commented, Xander tried to focus on walking like a predator, not like well-trained prey. His hands unconsciously slipped below his jacket to where the knives would be had he been wearing them.

"We'll find her, pet," Spike announced out of the blue without breaking stride or looking back. Strangely enough, Xander had never doubted it. Of all the things Xander doubted in his life including himself, his sanity, and even his own moral compass, he never doubted Spike.

"I know, Master," Xander answered.

Reaching the car, Xander slipped into the passenger side of the plain little tan car Spike used to drive to Los Angeles, and he pulled the seatbelt across his lap as he looked out the window. He knew that people could be willfully blind. He’d grown up on a Hellmouth, and despite the fact that the portal wasn't actually active during most of his younger years, it was still a Hellmouth and strange things still happened. But really, the general stupidity on the Hellmouth didn't have anything on LA.

Xander watched green-skinned demons walk in and out of pools of light under the street lamps, and he wondered what humans thought when they came to this part of town. Of course, not many humans actually came to this part of town, but someone had to get lost and end up down here at some point. You'd think they'd be on the phone to 911 or Geraldo Rivera or the Navy or something. Xander had this image of a tourist in a floral shirt having his car break down. He'd probably end up as a midnight snack.

Maybe people just thought this part of LA had an obsession with Halloween all year long, sort of like those little towns whose livelihood depended on being permanently Christmassy. Maybe people just got really good at not seeing what they didn't want to see. Xander sometimes wished that he could relearn that sort of blindness, and go through life without knowing what lurked in the shadows. Of course, not knowing didn't make the shadows any less dangerous, and Xander pushed that thought the back of his mind. Instead he watched in growing confusion out the window as the Hyperion finally appeared at the end of the street.

Spike pulled the car up to the front of the old hotel and Xander was struck with just how badly the hotel needed refurbishing. That is, if somebody didn't just take the much easier route of setting it on fire and starting over. The paint was peeling, boards were rotting, the decorative trim was chipped away, several stones had large cracks, and mold crept up the building from the foundations. All in all, this place needed about a thousand carpenters and handymen working 24 hours a day for a month before it would be actually habitable. So of course, Angel lived there.

"Right then, we need to talk to Angel before we head back to the Hellmouth," Spike announced, and Xander could hear the defensive tones despite the fact that his Master really didn't have to justify or explain his decisions to Xander. Since Xander didn't have a veto vote over Spike's decision, he simply sat silent. Of course, if he did have the choice he would have vetoed the idea of going to Angel. They had only recently broken the Broody One of showing up at Joyce's house to "check in," and Xander really didn't want to encourage Angel to start doing that again.

"Come on, then," Spike said as he got out of the car, and Xander unfastened the seat belt before opening his own car door and hurrying after his Master. Xander caught up at the front door as Spike found the entrance locked and pounded hard enough that Xander worried Spike would break the door down. Luckily the door swung open before that could happen.

"Angel," Spike said tightly as he pushed by his sire, and Xander followed quickly, keeping his eyes firmly on the back of Master’s neck. He didn't think Angel would shut the door in his face, but those Droopy Harris fears occasionally came back to haunt him.

"Spike?" Angel replied in a dazed voice, and Xander wasn't surprised since most of the time Spike avoided the broody one like the plague. Well, actually more than the plague since Spike couldn't actually get the plague.

"Why the bloody hell is the door locked?" Spike demanded to know as he headed for the tacky round couch in the middle of the lobby. When Spike sprawled across the ugly fabric, Xander was temporarily torn between going to his knees or sitting next to his Master. Spike solved that by reaching out and snagging his hand before pulling Xander to his side. Xander was left half sitting on the couch, half in Spike's lap, and completely happy as his Master's hand kneaded his shoulder.

"We *were* trying to keep the undesirables out," a sharp voice suggested from behind them. Xander jumped a bit at the sound, but Spike's hand around his waist held him in place.

"Weasely," Spike said as a greeting as Wesley came into sight.

"Wesley!" the former watcher snapped back, and Xander barely contained a manly type giggle as Spike looked at the man with a single eyebrow raised and a definite 'you idiot' expression. Wesley obviously recognized the expression because he frowned and crossed his arms over his chest aggressively.

"And what brings you here? I thought you were busy installing yourself as the Master of the Hellmouth." Wesley said snidely, and Xander watched Angel flinch at that. He could just imagine the fights the two of them had over Spike's reign over the Sunnydale Hellmouth.

"Just thought we'd do some visitin' while we're up here on business," Spike said casually.

"Business?" Angel snarled the word and stepped forward aggressively. Xander wasn't sure who would win a fight between these two, but he found himself suddenly terrified of finding out. He closed his hand around the fabric of Spike's t-shirt despite the fact that if it came to a fight he should be getting out of Spike's way, not holding on. As Xander's heart started racing, he found himself fascinated by the fact that he realized he was being totally irrational, but he couldn't seem to stop anyway.

"Oi, you great lummox. Ya got the subtlety of a musk ox, Peaches," Spike snarled at Angel, but one strong hand closed comfortingly around Xander's wrist, and the other rubbed Xander's neck hard enough that Xander was caught between wanting to lose himself in the massage and wanting to hunch up his shoulders to protect the sensitive body part.

"Xander, I'm sorry," Angel said quickly, and Xander looked up in surprise at the sight of Angel backing away with a pained expression on his face.

"Ya should be, ya nit." The fingers on Xander's neck tightened for a second. "Ya alright now?" Spike asked him, and Xander nodded as he felt his heart slow to a more reasonable pace.

"Yes, Master," he finally answered since nodding was rude unless forbidden to speak.

"Right then, I need to talk to Angel in private, don't I. You wait here," Spike ordered.

"Yes, Master."

Xander pulled away from Spike's lap but remained sitting on the couch as Spike stood and gestured towards Angel rudely. Rather than respond to the blatant insult, Angel just rolled his eyes as he started towards the door on the far side of the room. Spike followed.

As Xander watched his Master walk away, he tried to remind himself that he was safe. But as much as it pained him to admit it, without the familiar surroundings of Joyce's home- hearing Joyce rattling around on the first floor, or the familiar sound of Spike cursing softly in the other room- he didn't feel safe. In fact, the way Wesley was watching him in a combination of horror and suspicion made him feel like a bug under a microscope. Even that was better than the way some other people looked on him with pity, Xander thought miserably.

But then again, if Droopy Harris had a chance to see the new Xander Harris, he would've been doing more than staring. Droopy Harris would've been making all sorts of comments about how pathetic a person had to be before they didn't feel safe outside of their own house. Droopy Harris would've rolled his eyes and commented on the intelligence of any one who felt safer in Spike's arms than anywhere else in the world. Xander's self-recriminations were interrupted by Wesley's voice.

"Xander, I haven't had a chance to speak to you much since you've… gotten back." Wesley sounded uncomfortable, so at least Xander wasn't alone in his overall feeling of weirdage. And of course now Xander got the ultimate revenge; Wesley got to sound stupid while Xander just sat and looked at him. In the old days that never would've happened, but Wesley's comment made it sound like Xander been off at Boy Scout Camp and had just gotten home. Xander didn't say anything, since technically he hadn’t been asked a question. With a look of wary concern, Wesley stepped a little closer.

"So, how have you been lately?" Xander dispensed with his polite training altogether as he gave Wesley his best stupid stare. Not the stare that made Xander seem stupid, but the stare that implied that Wesley was stupid, because Wesley actually was- stupid that is. 'How was he'? Xander paused to consider just how he wanted to answer that one.

"Struggling to get through every day without having a panic attack bad enough to make me want to crawl into a corner," Xander finally said.

Wesley's expression went from horror and suspicion to outright mortification. Mortification. Listening definitely had done him some good because in the old days he definitely would not have even thought that word. Of course the fact that it was a Lirowaus word was a bit on the ick side.

"Well, I'm terribly sorry to hear that."

Wesley had taken a step forward, but now he backed up several steps, his hands reaching up and taking his glasses from his face and polishing them in a gesture that Xander had grown to associate with Giles. But maybe the gesture was just common to all English people. Maybe English people had some sort of glasses fetish. Or maybe it was something they learned at the Watcher’s Council, like a secret handshake.

"You know that if there’s anything you need I'd be more than happy to help you. Zelicwa wrote two rather shocking tomes on the demonic slave trade, so I can imagine that you have rather a lot to deal with."

Xander was impressed with Wesley’s grasp of understatement, and again with the comparison to Giles, and wondering if it was an English thing or a Watcher thing. Despite their shared knowledge, Xander found himself completely uninterested in talking about it with Wesley. In fact, there was only one person he ever wanted to talk about it with, and that was Spike. Xander looked over to the door that kept him from his Master’s side.

"I'm sure they'll be done soon," Wesley offered, and Xander sat on the couch tracing a finger along the edge of a faded stripe. "I must say it's rather disquieting to have you so silent. My memories of you and Ms. Rosenberg involve rather more talking."

Xander could think of any number of responses ranging from the fact that Wesley didn't know him well enough to have an opinion in the first place, all the way up through his memories of Wesley including more cowardice. He said nothing, and sat looking down at his finger, tracing a faded stripe on the sofa fabric.

The silence in the hotel thickened until Xander could make out the faint sound of cars passing on the road outside. He strained his hearing hoping that he would catch some sound of his Master's voice, but the two vampires were talking softly enough that no sound escaped the office. Considering those two tended to yell more often than talk, it was actually a little worrying.

"Would you like something to drink?" Wesley asked eventually. Xander wondered whether the man had finally remembered his hostly duty or whether he had just gotten frustrated at the silence.

"Do you have water?" Xander asked. He wasn't all that thirsty, but the chance to get Wesley out of the room was just too good to pass up. If Wesley didn't stop staring at him, his silent babble was going to turn into audible babble.

"Of course. I'll be right back." Wesley hurried from the room and Xander found himself torn between enjoying the moment of privacy and panicking at the thought that he was totally alone. He could walk out that front door, and no one would stop him. Even more terrifying, someone could walk in the front door and take him. Xander wondered how long it would take Spike to react if someone did push that door open and come running in, sword drawn. In anyone else's life the thought of someone running into the room with a drawn sword would be well... ridiculous. In his life, not so much.

Xander was so caught up in thoughts that someone could come rushing in the door or he could go rushing out the door that when the door actually started pushing in, he had a moment of pure blind white terror. The terror mutated into plain old garden-variety panic as a squeal pierced the air.

"Xander! Oh my god Xander, it's you! I can't believe it's you!" Cordelia rushed into the lobby, arms thrown open and a wide smile on her face. Instinctively, Xander stood up, but he suddenly didn't know what to do. He'd been trained to handle a lot of situations, but an enthusiastic ex-girlfriend with a history of verbally castrating man running at him... that wasn't covered in the training.

"I can't believe Angel didn't tell me that you were coming to visit! Oh God, you don't know how long everyone looked for you. I was so worried. And then everyone else went missing, and all I could think was that everyone I'd known was gone." When Cordelia reached him she closed her arms around his upper body hugging him tightly, and Xander in return let his palms rest on the sides of her waist in a small imitation of a hug. Cordelia Chase was the only woman he knew who could take his kidnapping and reduce it down to the fact that he had worried her. In some ways it was good to know that some things in this world could be relied on to never change.

The door to the office slammed open so hard that the glass window shivered and the wood rebounded off the wall as Spike slammed into the room.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" he demanded, anger roughening his accent.

Xander dropped his hands and physically stepped back, hoping to get away from Cordelia's embrace. Touching wasn't allowed. Touching was never allowed. You didn't let the trainers catch you touching. Not unless… Xander struggled to push down the terror that came bubbling into his throat as the memory threatened to surface.

Xander recognized his own irrational thoughts; he knew that he was sliding off into a void, but he was suddenly helpless against the memories that rose like dark floodwaters, threatening to tear apart everything in their path. He stepped back again but Cordelia simply stepped with him her arms trapping him, condemning him as she glared at Spike. As long as her arms were around him, he was breaking the rules. You didn't touch. You never touched.

Xander started breathing heavily and he tried to remind himself that this was Cordelia, this was Spike, this was Angel. They didn't care. And yet the panic continued to rise until the rushing darkness threatened to breach his defenses and the memories pushed in on him.

How many lessons had they expected them to learn? How many? He wasn't the smart one, he wasn't good at remembering things. They couldn't expect him to remember all the rules. And yet they did. There were rules and rules and rules. And punishments and rules and torture and rules. Xander shivered as he remembered the cold steel links brushing against his back. Don't touch.

Xander blinked and as the world swam into focus he realized Cordelia was sitting on the ground staring at him in horror. Spike was standing behind him, strong arms curled possessively around his waist. That was allowed; Spike was allowed. Master was allowed to touch. Xander turned in his Master's arms and buried his face in the crook of Spike's neck as he tried to catch his breath.

"S'all right, you're fine." Spike’s voice crooned in just the same way he had once crooned to Dru, and Xander wondered who would win the loon contest now. He was pretty sure he could give the crazy seer a run for her money at this point. Lucky for him Spike seemed to be into crazy, because those strong arms cradled him to his chest until Xander could breathe again.

Xander glanced up at Wesley's open-mouthed horror and Cordelia's shock and Angel's... well, he couldn't actually tell what Angel was feeling, not that this was anything new. Okay, he couldn't hide in Spike's arms forever. Not even if he wanted to. Xander took a deep breath and stepped back. Xander saw nothing but loving concern in Spike’s eyes as he opened his arms, allowing Xander to step out of his embrace.

As Angel held out a hand to help Cordelia from the floor, Xander opened his mouth, but then he couldn't quite figure out what to say, especially since he had no idea what happened. Well yeah, he had a pretty good idea since Spike would have sent her across the room with one shove and she was only on the floor in front of him. That gave him a small hint about who had done the pushing. He wasn't a complete moron, just a half moron.

"Cordelia, I..." Xander started, but then he lost his words.

"Cordelia didn't mean to startle you," Angel said carefully when Xander's voice had failed him. Behind him Spike muttered a few choice words on Cordelia's parentage, and Angel gave his childe a quick glare. "And neither did Spike," Angel added in a darker tone.

"I'm sorry," Xander blurted out quickly.

"No, I'm sorry," Cordelia added. "You're just looking so good with the trim fighting form and the muscles and the gorgeous curls that you're obviously using conditioner on, not to mention the vast improvement on your wardrobe... I mean, I just forgot," she trailed off plaintively.

Cordelia's comments left Xander speechless, not in the slave-without-permission-to-speak type speechless, but in the oh-my-god-how-are-you-supposed-to-handle-a-compliment-from-Cordelia-Chase type speechless. He'd just gotten more compliments from her in one sentence than he had in the entire time they were dating. Of course the entire time they were dating she never complimented him once, so that wasn't actually hard. Xander looked over to Spike since he had no idea how to handle anything he’d just heard.

"Bloody right. He's looking right shaggable, isn't he?" agreed Spike with a cheerful leer. Okay, now that wasn’t exactly what Xander had expected, not that he had any idea what to expect. He found himself blushing a little.

"Ew. Okay you didn't have to get that graphic," Cordelia complained with a pinched expression on her face.

"Oi, you know you're thinkin' about it, but you already lost your chance at the boy." Now the leer changed into something a little more smug.

"Oh please," Cordelia sniffed, and Xander realized that her dismissal didn't hurt at all. He wondered whether that was because he had Spike now or because she had just called him cute... at least it sounded like she called him cute. "Besides," Cordelia continued as she narrowed her eyes, "as I remember you had a little something to do with that."

"Worked out soddin' well for me, didn't it?" Xander watched the two of them banter back and forth, and it suddenly occurred to him that they liked each other. Well, not like each other as in *liked* each other, because that would just be wrong and ew, but they liked each other in a cat liking a scratching post kind of way.

Xander wasn't entirely sure that Angel understood that because the older vampire had moved to stand between Spike and Cordelia as though he was going to have to physically defend Cordelia's honor. Xander leaned back a little and Spike's hand found the small of his back where it rested comfortably.

"William, I think we have more important business to deal with here."

"Oi, just havin' a little fun with the cheerleader." And again with the grin, this time with a hint of tongue behind his teeth.

"In your dreams, Bleach Boy. You're never going to have any fun with me," Cordelia snapped. Spike's only reply was one of his knowing laughs that always managed to make Xander's cock twitch with need.

"Wesley, pack the weapons," Angel changed the subject. "Try to stick with the classics: stakes and swords."

Xander turned and saw the ex-watcher hovering at the edge of the group.

"What are we going after?" Wesley asked as he started toward a large cabinet at the far side of the lobby.

"Vamps," Angel answered shortly, and then before anyone could say anything else, the great Broody One turned and disappeared back into the office, closing the door behind him loudly enough to make it clear that he didn't want company.

"Right then, we're off," Spike announced brusquely. Xander offered Cordelia a small smile and Wesley absolutely nothing as he followed Spike out of the Hyperion towards the waiting car.

The entire ride back to Sunnydale, Xander kept expecting the Inquisition to start. Questions about what had triggered the flashback or whether he was okay after the flashback, but Spike remained unusually silent. Or a least as silent as he could be considering that he was singing along at the top of his voice with what Xander considered to be the world's worst music. It took all of Leshar's training for Xander to not make a comment about the wails and random screeches that were currently pounding out of the car's radio.

Eventually Xander couldn't take the lack of talkage any more, either that or he was going to go utterly deaf from Spike's music.

"Master?" Xander spoke barely above a whisper, but Spike immediately reached out and flipped the radio off.

"Yeah, pet?"

"Is Angel coming to Sunnydale?" Xander bit his tongue, physically bit it. He bit it hard enough to make it hurt, which, when he thought about it, wasn't the brightest thing in the world, but every fiber of his being was screaming at him about training and not questioning his Master.

"Yeah," Spike answered as he reached over and let his hand rub the inside of Xander's thigh. The answer was just friendly enough that Xander could tell himself that he wasn't in trouble, but it was just short enough to let Xander know his Master wasn't planning on saying any more. Xander would just have to wait and see.

Chapter 7:

"Does everyone know his place?" Angel asked as the four of them stood in the shadows of one of Sunnydale's oldest cemeteries, one that happened to be close enough to the Hellmouth that Xander would have been able to see the top of Sunnydale High if he hadn't helped blow the place to pieces.

"Wesley?" Angel asked.

"I'll cast the congelo spell and keep it up as long as possible."

"Xander?" At Angel's question, Xander cast a quick glance toward Spike who gave a small nod.

"I'll defend Wesley while he does the jello thing."

"Congelo!" Wesley snapped while Spike laughed.

"Spike?" Angel continued, ignoring the glares between Wesley and Spike.

"I'm bloody killin' anythin' that moves," Spike said as he waggled his eyebrows at Wesley.

"Try to limit yourself to killing this new Master's minions," Angel said dryly.

"Ya used to be a lot more fun, Peaches," Spike answered as he sat back on a headstone.
"You're the one who asked for help, William," Angel said through tight lips.

"Oi, it was that or make m’self a bunch of minions to use as cannon fodder."

"William," Angel growled. Xander couldn't contain a small snort of laughter at the sight of Spike getting his sire completely wound up. Spike looked over and gave him a wide grin and a wink while Angel rolled his eyes and turned away muttering.

"You two stay here and look helpless, we're going to circle and see if we can't flush out some vampires. I'm feeling a need to kill something myself," Angel said as he started walking.

"We'll be close, just come if ya hear Angel scream for help, yeah?" Spike said with an intense look at Xander. Xander gazed back confidently.

"Yes, Master," he answered as he rested his hands on his knives. Spike turned and disappeared into the trees, walking in the opposite direction as Angel had.

Xander felt like bouncing on the balls of his feet the way he'd so often seen his Master do, but instead he sat waiting on a stone bench with his fists curled around his knives. The old Xander would never have been so patient, he realized with a start. A tiny, hesitant bubble of pride flickered through him.

"Are you alright then?" Xander looked over towards Wesley in surprise, trying to figure out what he could've said or done to give the former watcher the idea that he wasn't. After a long silence, Xander finally realized he was going to have to answer.

"I'm fine." Xander wondered what he must look like to the other man's eyes. After all, Wesley had known him before Leshar and before Lirowaus and before him losing his mind. Before becoming this new being, bonded to a Master who he once couldn’t stand to be in the same room with.

"It's just that you seem rather… I don't know… subdued." It wasn’t exactly a question, and so Xander didn't bother to answer, instead divided his time between looking at Wesley curiously and scanning the cemetery. Wesley sighed. "You must admit that most of the time we were together in Sunnydale, between you and Miss Rosenberg, a small city could have been powered off of the energy you two exuded." Xander thought about that comment for several moments while he stared out at the dark shapes of the trees and the shadowed outlines of the gravestones.

"I just don't show my excitement now," he finally said. Wesley frowned a little.
"Yes, quite. I can see why Giles would be concerned."

"You talked to Giles about me?" Xander didn't mean for his voice to get that sharp, and he took a couple of deep breaths to get control of his emotions again.

"Giles and I have spoken," Wesley said in a guarded tone. Those two of them discussing just how messed up *he* was suddenly struck Xander as the most hypocritical thing that he had ever heard. After all, Giles wasn't exactly in good shape himself, and at least Xander could admit that he was completely and totally screwed up. That gave him one up on Giles.

Xander would have considered telling Wesley at least some part of this, but a stirring in the trees distracted him. He turned to look at a group of tall elms that stood over a stone mausoleum at the far side of the cemetery. There it was again. One of the tree's leaves shimmered and danced for a moment as though something had hit the trunk hard enough to make all the branches shake. Xander stood and took a step forward as he drew his longer knife. The cool metal in his hand gave him confidence, and he could feel his adrenaline start to rise as he scanned the rest of the cemetery for other signs of movement.

"Spike," Xander said in a normal tone of voice, confident that Spike would still hear him. "Something's up at the north end."

"Xander, did you see something?" Wesley stepped up behind him, and Xander ignored the watcher in favor of trying to identify any possible enemies. No, Wesley, he hadn't seen anything, he just wanted to send his Master off on a wild goose chase in the middle of trying to flush out the invading Master Vampire. Xander bit off any sharp words, but he couldn't keep from rolling his eyes.

Xander spun at the sound of something scraping rock to his right. It was so loud that even Wesley heard because the watcher muttered a strange English curse under his breath before beginning to chant.

Xander smiled wickedly at the night and bent his knees a little as he considered the darkness around him. Keeping his sol knife in his right hand, he pulled a stake out of his waistband with his left as he started circling Wesley. Wesley's hands gripped a crossbow, but the man made no effort to actually aim since he was concentrating solely on the magical spell that Xander could feel start to slide around him, the power slipping over his skin like a snake.

A ghost of a feeling warned Xander that someone was behind him, and he spun with both weapons ready to take out the intruder, but he froze when he realized that it was Angel.

"They're coming," Angel said, and Xander barely avoided giving a hearty 'no duh' at the vampire's words. Instead he moved over to Wesley's right side, leaving Angel to guard Wesley's left side. "Where the hell is William?" Angel growled, but Xander knew that his Master would be near. Rather than worry about where Spike was, Xander concentrated on himself and the job his Master trusted him to do.

When the attack finally came, it came far more suddenly than Xander had expected. One moment the cemetery appeared to be abandoned, silent even of the normal sounds of night, which in and of itself was rather suspicious. The next moment a dozen vampires poured in from all directions, noiselessly running across the grass and darting between the headstones. Xander didn't waste his time with words, but instead fell into a fighting crouch, prepared to defend himself and Wesley.

As the vampires surged toward them, Wesley's spell reached out; Xander watched as his enemies' motions became awkward and slow. However, these were not helpless fledges who fled at the first sign of trouble. Of course, they weren't master vampires either, but they were old enough that they didn't panic. Instead they pushed forward in groups of three and four and Xander waited calmly for the first wave of attackers to reach him.

There were far too many vampires for Xander to get fancy, especially since he had to hold position and defend Wesley. So as the first vampire reached him, a curly red-haired man with a wide nose, Xander struck out with the blade of his golden Sol knife. The metal sliced through flesh and divided bone, turning the vampire to instant dust.

Xander didn't have time to celebrate, though. A second vampire was already on him, close enough to grab his arm. Xander slammed the stake home and pulled it out before the vampire even had time to turn to dust. Lunging forward through the cloud formed by the second vampire's death, Xander slashed at the third vampire. He missed the killing blow that he had intended, but his knife sliced her shoulder and arm, forcing the vampire to fall back.

Xander didn't have time to give chase, and so he turned on another of the sluggish attackers. This time he thrust forward with the stake, lodging it in the vampire's back with one hand while he used a vicious backhand to send his knife through the vampire's neck. Xander was breathing hard now, and he stepped back toward Wesley as he tried to catch his breath. His arms already ached from the force of his blows, his knife sending vibrations up through him as the metal struck bone. But Xander had learned to love that ache. It reminded him that as much as demons could hurt him, he could hurt them back.

Taking a quick glance around, he saw Angel was making short work of the vampires on his side. Wesley meanwhile continued to chant, and Xander shivered as the magical waves crawled over him. But this moment of reflection didn't last long since more attackers rushed in.

A dark-skinned man with dark, deep eyes ripped the stake from Xander's hand only to have Xander's knife halve his skull straight down the middle. Xander hadn't even been sure that that would kill a vampire, but because of how the vampire had grabbed his arm, it was the only strike he could make. It obviously worked because the vampire collapsed into dust before Xander's stake, which it had tossed aside, even hit the ground.

Xander pulled his silver Luna knife in one arcing motion as he brought his Sol knife down into the backbone of a vampire tossed in his direction by Angel. Wesley's chanting took on a shrill edge of desperation, and Xander danced to one side to avoid a vampire's fist as he glanced over at the watcher. Angel was several yards away battling his own group of vampires, and Wesley was continuing to chant while aiming his crossbow at a blonde woman who had managed to get past the two defenders.

Xander brought an elbow down into his own adversary's face, feeling the nose break under the pressure before he followed that up with a quick beheading. By that time, Wesley had already let fly the crossbow bolt. Even while distracted by the chanting, Wesley's aim proved true, and the woman disintegrated into a cloud of ash and dust. However two more vampires closed on Wesley's position. Xander hurried to defend the man. There were so many vampires that without the spell's assistance, none of them had a fighting chance. Even though he had feared that Wesley would give up the chanting in favor of defending his life, Wesley continued to chant even while striking out at the first vampire with his stake.

The second vampire was so focused on Wesley that she never saw the blade that severed her head from her body. Xander felt a grim satisfaction, and he turned to deal with the second attacker. However, Wesley knelt on one knee in the grass, still chanting, while dust and ash slowly settled to the ground. Xander moved closer to Wesley as he took up a defensive position again.

Xander knew that his fighting skills had improved tremendously since he had started fighting with Spike. Of course, when your two choices were to get better at fighting or get your ass kicked by a 120 year old Master Vampire, improvement was a given. However, with Wesley's spell he discovered a whole new level of demon fighting. Now the demons were the ones who were slow and awkward and Xander could dance between them, striking out at the head of one with a golden blade, while sinking a silver blade deep into the belly of another.

In the back of his mind, Xander was aware of the fact that the waves of demons were thinning, but he forced himself to stay focused on killing as many of them as he could reach. When Wesley’s voice stilled, Xander had a moment of shining panic where he thought that he had failed. He whirled around, determined to kill whatever demon had forced Wesley to stop his spell-casting, but instead of finding another attacker, he found Wesley standing under a tree next to Angel. Both were looking around at the cemetery.

Xander watched as two stray vampires took off across the grass with their newly recovered speed, and Xander took one running step in their direction. Then he stopped. There was the whole 'he would never catch them without the spell slowing them down' thing, but more than that, he didn't want a repeat of Spike's anger. He really didn't think Angel and Wesley needed to watch him get put into a punishment position or get spanked. And really, if they did want to see that, Xander didn't want to know they wanted to see that because of the whole ew factor, well, that and his ego could do without either of them getting to see that little humiliation.

Until then, Xander hadn't noticed his master's absence, but now he looked around the empty cemetery. The moon shone bright enough to cast long, indistinct shadows at the base of each gravestone and the trees' leaves made a gentle chittering sound. However, other than Wesley and Angel, he didn't see any movement. Xander tightened his fists around his knives as he cast a panicked glance toward the far sides of the cemetery. He saw only distant brick walls, the tall mausoleums, and the arched gateway marking the entrance to the cemetery. No matter where he looked, there was no Spike.

Xander set off for the copse of trees where he'd seen Spike disappear before the fight. A thin little voice in the back of his mind pointed out that if Spike were dead, there wouldn’t be anything left to find. However, Xander was good ignoring that little voice. Hell, he'd been doing it for years. He set off with a determined stride that took him within a few feet of Wesley and Angel.

"Xander?" Angel said as Xander marched past them, intent on his goal.

"Xander, hold on!" Angel called, and Xander just ignored him with the same determination with which he had once ignored his math teacher, Mr. Phillips.

"Xander!" Angel called again as Xander left the vampire behind. When Angel's heavy hand fell on Xander's shoulder, he simply rolled his shoulder and shrugged to one side to get rid of the unwanted touch. However, the hand came again, and this time it held his shoulder more firmly. Unable to continue forward, Xander turned with an angry scowl.

"What?" Xander snapped and then he took a couple of deep breaths as he tried to control the anger and fear.

"Xander, just hold on a minute," Angel suggested. However Xander wasn't interested in any suggestions.

"I need to find Spike," Xander said almost desperately, and then he realized how unnecessary those words must have been since he didn't have any other possible reason for walking off in the first place. However, Angel didn't seem impressed with his needs because the large hand remained on his shoulder. "Damn it, let go," Xander demanded as the panic rose.

"Xander, we'll go together, but we need to go find Willow first. She'll be able to cast a spell to find him." Xander didn't know what annoyed him more -- the fact that Angel was physically stopping him from his goal or the fact that Angel was talking to him as though he were three years old and mentally challenged. Okay, the mentally challenged part might be debatable, but he was definitely older than three. And he certainly wasn't going to waste precious time going to Willow.

"You go get Willow. I'm going to find Spike." Xander tried to take a step backwards and yank his arm out of Angel's grip, but the vampire didn't budge.

"Xander," Angel said in that same condescending tone.

"Deadboy," Xander sneered in his own snottiest tone. Behind him he could hear Wesley gasp, but he didn't have time for Wesley's crap either. "Get your fucking hand off me," Xander demanded when the snotty tone of voice didn't work.

"Angel," Wesley said from behind, "perhaps you should let Xander go." Xander craned his neck around to look at Wesley in surprise. Where he had expected to see pity or some self-assured superiority, instead he only saw something that came close to understanding. Angel's hand loosened, and Xander took a step back.

"Oi, what the bloody hell are you lot up to?" Spike asked as he came through the trees. Blood trickled from a slash in his face that ran from the outer corner of one eye down to his chin, and as he walked, his tongue snaked out and licked the blood from his split lip. His left leg was dragging a little, but his expression was one of pure, violent glee.

"Master," Xander breathed softly in relief.

"So what have you nancy-boys been up to while I was off killing the new would-be master of the Hellmouth?" he demanded with a smirk. Xander could feel his legs tremble in the aftermath of his near panic attack. His first instinct was to go to his knees and press his cheek against Spike’s thigh, seeking the relief and protection and security that he always found at his Master's feet. However, the presence of the two men standing behind him made him suddenly self-conscious and so he stood and waited until Spike reached him and slid a bloodstained and strong arm around his waist, pulling him into his Master's side.

"Can't leave you lot alone for a second, can I?" Spike’s expression was feral, but his tone was almost affectionate.

"William," Angel only said the one word, but Xander could feel Spike's muscles twitch in response.

"Right then, thanks for the help, now get your bloody arses out off my Hellmouth." Spike softened his words with a smile, but it wasn't a very soft smile.

"Perhaps that would be best," Wesley offered. When both vampires turned to stare at Wesley, Xander felt a flare of sympathy. After all, he used to be the one that would always open his mouth and say something that was unnecessary, inappropriate, or unwanted. Heck, sometimes it was all three. He'd found the whole not talking thing to be much easier on the ego than the talking thing. And again with the wonderment at how much he’d changed since the days of Droopy Harris.

"We should probably stop in and see the others while we're here," Angel finally declared. Xander could tell that Spike wanted to order Angel out, he wanted to be respected as the Master of the Hellmouth that he truly was, but that wasn't the relationship that he and Angel shared.

"Right then, you do that." Spike's arm tightened around Xander's waist and then Spike started walking back in the direction of Joyce's house. Without warning, Spike stopped and looked back at the two men still standing under the tree in the middle of the cemetery. "One last thing, Xander and me have some hunting to do, so we won't be around town for a while."

"Spike, do you think that's a good..." Angel never got to finish his comment.

"Bloody hell yes! You saw my boy fight, he moves like a demon, like a soddin' fury takin' his revenge. Don't go thinkin' he can't take care of himself because he's a whole sight stronger than Giles or Willow who keeps natterin' on to you when she thinks we aren't around to hear. We have business to take care of. So just keep your bloody nose out of it." Spike's words left Angel standing with his mouth literally open in shock, and Xander understood the feeling.

Without another word Spike turned back and hurried Xander off to the far side of the cemetery. Xander followed willingly, practically floating on a cloud of approval. Spike thought he was strong.

Chapter 8:

"Right then, before we go in there, we need to have a talk," Spike said. Xander turned in the car seat so that he was angled toward his master. Unfortunately, he didn't take into consideration the new outfit. A strap between his legs attached to a small black pouch that enclosed his cock and balls on one end and to a belt around his waist on the other, and when he turned in the seat he found the skin pinched sharply in the stiff leather. Spike obvious misinterpreted the expression.

"Oi, what's that look for?" he asked, and Xander schooled his face into a more neutral expression.

"Ow… Master," Xander said with an apologetic shrug as he squirmed little more. Xander found himself smiling as Spike rolled his eyes. Xander really did understand Spike's amusement what with the whole surviving Leshar's training only to complain about pinched skin. However, that didn't change the fact that Xander really was glad that his hair had never grown back because that would be more ow-making than he really wanted to deal with.

"Loon," Spike accused him. "So, are ya listening to me now?"

"Yes, Master," Xander agreed as he shifted a little more to try and find a more comfortable position. No matter how he shifted, the edge of the leather strap bit into some piece of sensitive skin so Xander finally gave up and just sat still with his best 'paying attention' expression on his face.

"Not happy about going in there, pet," Spike said as he nodded at the large building. Xander sat in the rental car looking at the enormous two story brick factory and he couldn't exactly claim he was thrilled. He didn't know what scared him more: the idea that they might not find the girl or the idea that they might. Xander flashed on a memory of her eyes, and he feared seeing the fear and accusation in her eyes again.

And he wasn't exactly the poster boy for mental health, so part of him understood Spike's logic, which really was kinda scary considering that neither he nor Spike were really good at the logic parts…. Or the plan parts. Or the not getting their asses kicked parts. But a little piece of his brain still felt like he had raped the girl, and being told by a soulless killer that he shouldn't feel guilty didn't exactly help that. Xander should have been used to his brain not really getting along with itself, but he couldn't help feeling the creepy anyway.

Spike hadn't asked a question; he had just complained, so Xander waited.

"You aren't the same person you were before, pet." Spike said and Xander waited for Spike to say something that wasn't ridiculously obvious. "Ya have to remember that this is an act, pet. Don't let yourself forget that you're a bloody demon hunter," Spike said, and Xander watched as Spike's fingers twitched nervously. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't seen Spike smoke in a long time, but now those long fingers moved as though searching for something to do. Xander idly wondered what Spike did with his hands before cigarettes.

"You understand what I'm saying, then?" Spike asked.

"Yes, Master," Xander answered.

"Pet, I’m looking for a little more than a 'yes.' Need to know you're going to be okay because I don't care if you have fifty soddin' rugrats in there, I won't risk you." Xander froze at that open confession. Blue eyes turned to look at him, and Xander could see the nervousness of those hands reflected in eyes that had flecks of yellow sparking in them like tiny flames.

"I'll be fine, Master. I…" Xander thought for a moment about what was and wasn't true in his own head. "I'm not like their slaves," he finally answered. "I know how to fight back."

"Bloody right. You faced down Angelus. You helped take out another Master's army of vampires without tripping on one of 'em."

"Which is more than Droopy Harris would have been able to do, Master," Xander added.

"Oi. Droopy Harris was so confused and untrained, he was lucky he didn't stake himself," Spike said with a smirk.

"You couldn't kill him," Xander blurted, and then he bit his lip as he turned his eyes back to the brick building outside their rented car.

"And you're right about that," Spike said softly. Xander ducked his head down. For some reason he felt like being right somehow made his blurting even worse, and yeah, chalk one up for the lack of logic on that one. Xander focused his eyes on the dash until he heard Spike sigh. Then he risked a small glance.

"Bloody glad I couldn't," Spike said as he reached over and ruffled Xander's hair gently before tugging on a curl.

"This is just playactin', and having the courage to walk in there knowin' the danger shows how strong you are."

Xander stared back into his Master's eyes calmly. "I have to find her, Master."

"Still the White Knight, so we find the bird and get the hell out. Don't bloody like these people," Spike said briskly as he opened the door. Xander got out on his side and pulled the heavy coat closer around him as the chilled fall air whipped around his face. His breath came out in white plumes and his feet tingled with the cold of the dark asphalt.

Spike had tried arguing for Xander to wear shoes, but Xander knew the coat alone would cause enough raised eyebrows. Hell, arriving at a show walking behind his Master would cause a few raised eyebrows. Well, assuming the demons had eyebrows. It might cause raised eye ridges or raised spines. Or, hey, they could have actual hackles to raise.

Xander knew full well he'd gone on full out panic-babble mode but then he was following Spike into a building full of creatures that saw him as a lower-life form. Of course there was the being weaker and shorter lived and more fragile Xander kinda understood where they were coming from, but it didn't mean he wanted to hang out with them.

He mentally replayed the image of Spike telling Angel off. Spike had called him strong and if everyone else in this old factory thought he was weak and helpless, it didn't matter. Xander flexed his hands inside his coat pockets as he imagined the feeling of Sol and Luna in his hands, the feeling of their blades slicing through demon flesh. Spike banged on a door that came open almost immediately, and Xander slipped to his knees in perfect form. These were demons and he was on demon manners.

"So you're the vampire. Register your animal and get your room assignment at the desk there," Xander kept his eyes properly focused on the ground in front of him, but he recognized the rattling sound of the demon's voice, and he flashed on an image of his beautiful Luna knife slicing through the line of spine along the back of his head. Right. And then the rest of the demons would have him and Spike shoved in a cage in about a second. Xander reminded himself to let go of the anger. Not in the plan.

"Thanks, mate," Spike answered and then he was on the move. Xander rose and followed, the fluid slave gait coming back to him as he stepped onto the tiled floor and felt demon eyes watching him. Somewhere back in his mind, the primitive part of his brain screamed at him to run, but he focused on watching Spike's coat flap as he followed like a proper slave.

"This where I get my room key?" Spike stopped and Xander knelt again.

"Your beast checked in?"

"Plannin' on doin' it after I get my room and have the boy put our things away," Spike answered calmly, but from his place kneeling at Spike's feet, Xander could see one of Spike's legs twitching nervously.

"Gotta check in your animal first. Get him papers and I'll give you your key," the demon said in a bored tone.

"And where do I do that?"

"Doctor's that way," Xander stood and followed as Spike took off again.

"And get him out of those clothes," the demon yelled, and Spike stopped so suddenly that Xander nearly bumped him and had to drop to his knees so close to Spike that his shoulder pressed into Spike's knee.

"Right, off with the coat, pet," Spike ordered, and Xander instantly shrugged it off onto the ground. Xander resisted the urge to trace the figure tattooed into his chest, his bird. Even in the harsh light of the factory it was beautiful, each individual feather was clear as the bird prepared to take off or land, wings stretched up to the sky. The tattoo and the collar were permanent, other decorations had been chosen to impress the local slavers.

Leather armbands were laced around his forearms, the long trailing laces running down the back of his arms. On the front of his collar hung his black chain with three red crystals trailing down his chest and ending just at his belly button. And with the coat off, demons could see his draped back chains with teardrop shaped crystals that were worth more than most slaves at the show. Xander reached down and tried to unobtrusively pull one hip chain out from where it was caught in the folds of the coat, and the red crystal on the end came free just as Spike scooped up the coat and started walking.

Without the coat to muffle the sound, his ankle strap with it's small bell chimed with each step, and he had actually argued against that one, but Spike had insisted. Xander wondered whether Spike liked dressing him up or whether the vampire wanted a way to keep track of Xander in the crowd, but it didn't matter. Spike had wanted it, and now with every step, Xander tinkled. And really, tinkling in public… not his thing.

Xander considered sharing that joke with Spike, but they had reached other desk, and Xander went to his knees properly. Of all the ornaments he wore, though, the auction required pouch annoyed him the most. The tight leather straps and small pouch squeezed uncomfortably, and when Spike reached down and stroked his hair as he talked to the demon, the pouch became even more uncomfortable. The strap continued between his butt cheeks giving him a permanent wedgy, and the strap around his waist made it hard to see the delicate black links of his hip chains.

"Up, pet," Spike ordered, and Xander realized that the petting of the hair and the aching of the cock had distracted him long enough that he had lost track of the conversation.

He rose with a roll of his body that made his hip chains slither around his legs, and Xander hated the fact that the chains sliding over the leather of the harness made an unpleasant scratching noise.

"Right over here," a high-pitched voice said, and Xander kept his gaze down as Spike guided him with a grip on his elbow.

"Does he need to be restrained?" the high-pitched voice asked again, and Xander was guessing Nelka demon. Or Ritome demon. Or Shurl demon. Or he had no idea. The last was a very real possibility.

"No, and don't want him restrained," Spike insisted darkly.

"Then let's just check him out then."

Xander stood, Spike's hand on his elbow keeping him from kneeling, and Xander switched into a proper stance, his legs apart, his hands at the small of his back, his head down. An unfamiliar and hot hand ran down his arm and then unexpectedly pinched the skin right above his elbow.

Xander jumped a little, and then cursed himself out a lot. During Leshar's training he had endured whips without flinching. Focusing himself on the dual images of Spike calling him strong and the girl's green eyes begging him to save her, Xander took control of his body and the examination continued.

A finger went in his mouth, and he obediently opened as it explored.

"He's marked," the voice said suspiciously.

"Yeah, trainer did that before I bought him."

"West Coast slave?"

"Yeah. Got a problem with that?" Spike demanded. Xander focused on keeping his breathing normal, but his body wanted to move to Spike's side when his Master took that tone. The finger in his mouth withdrew and a hand pressed down on his shoulder. Since fighting wasn't an option, Xander submitted and sank to his knees.

"I have a problem with abusing good stock. I'm not some Pylean," the demon said, hissing out the word Pylean like a curse.

"Case you haven't noticed, I'm not soddin' green."

"No. You're just a vampire." If the word Pylean had been a curse, the word vampire was… well, something way bigger than a curse. Way, way bigger. An uber-curse. And really, he needed to borrow a thesaurus from Willow.

"You're supposed to sign off on him being healthy or not. So just do your bloody job," Spike snarled, and from the slightly leaky sound on the 's' sounds, Xander guessed his Master had gone into game face.

"I don't like you, vampire."

"I'm not thinkin' much of you right now either. So sign off on the bloody paperwork before I start—" Spike's words cut off so suddenly that he risked glancing up, panicked at the thought of something happening to Spike, but his Master simply had an expression of intense concentration as his lips pursed together and then pushed first up and then down, resulting in some pretty strange expressions.

"Right, just do it," Spike finished. Xander felt a warmth spread around his back before something smooth and hot touched him. This time he kept himself from flinching, but as the heat grew, he had remind himself that Spike would protect him. He recognized this heat having felt it a dozen times when Leshar's doctor would heal him. It had been an endless cycle of injury and healing, and he focused his eyes on the tattoo to keep that memory from sucking him under. Eventually the heat ended and the tapping of footsteps told him that the demon had walked away.

"He's healthy," that voice admitted, and Xander could hear the unhappiness in it, which, hey! If she liked humans, she shouldn't be hoping he wasn't fine.

"Paperwork then," Spike snapped, and Xander heard the sound of a pen over paper.

"If at any point he isn't fine, I reserve the right to kick your ass out of the show," the demon bit back, and then the sound of rustling paper.

"Oi, wouldn’t hurt my boy," Spike insisted before he turned. The minute Spike took a step, Xander rose and followed after him. Focusing on his swinging hip chains and keeping his back chains motionless and the tinkling of his damn ankle strap, Xander could just let the other fears slide away.

Following after his Master as Spike got a room key and led him through the mass of demons uncaging their humans and setting up booths, Xander concentrated on the cool slide of metal links across his body and the tickling of the leather laces and the pressure on his cock which was maddening and yet somehow still incredibly pleasurable. He let his body lead him to a plateau where the only thing that existed was his Master and the touch of his Master's toys against his body.

He had reached a place of almost dream walking when a voice slammed him back into reality with shouting demon voices and boxes and crates slamming into the floor and all the other normal sounds of a huge open space filled with construction.

"I thought you would have already turned my sweet boy there," a familiar voice said. Spike stopped in the middle of the corridor, and Xander went to his knees. Part of him wanted to tremble in a combination of fear and rage at hearing that voice, and another part obsessively checked to make sure his form was perfect as he knelt at his Master's side.

"Leshar," Spike growled.

--Go on with the story--

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