Learning Curve
Rated ADULT
Sexual Content

Jim/Blair, Xander/Spike
Chapters 1-6

Jump to: Section 2: 3: 4: 5: 6: 7: 8

Chapter 1

"I can't believe the sod came back here. Not like he has a lot of good memories associated with this place, but he always has been one for sulking in the dark," Spike said as they stood at the entrance to the Hyperion hotel.

"Whoa, big fire," Xander said, noticing the black streaks that wrapped around the corner, staining the stone.

"Yeah, either lightening or a dragon hit there, depending on who you ask."

"Okay, with your luck, I'm guessing dragon," Xander said as he bit his lip. "This is where they all died, isn't it?"

"Yeah, out back, but they're gone, and hanging out on top of California's newest Hellmouth isn't going to make them come back any time soon," Spike said before he moved away, pushing in through the doors. Angel might brood, but Spike ignored. Xander had discovered that fact. He followed silently because having seen his own share of disasters, he knew that sometimes you had to ignore the broken bits and the pain and the losses until you glued yourself back together well enough to talk about it without breaking down into tears, not that he could see Spike breaking down into tears. That was more Xander's style.

"Angel-cakes?" Spike yelled. That was a new nickname. Xander snickered.

"Spike?" Angel came out from the back, his face barely visible in the low light, but the big old ax looked fairly ominous. Xander started to back up, but Spike's arm slipped around his back, holding him in place.

"You're looking mighty broody, mate."

"Spike, I have a job. I don't have time for this right now."

"Yeah, you never do. So, what's the job and I'll throw in for old times sake," Spike said as he stepped closer, dragging Xander with him.

"Xander," Angel finally acknowledged him. Then Angel stopped and looked at them more closely. "Spike, what are you doing with Xander?"

"Wot? You need the birds and the bees speech? Seems like you knew what to do with my arse well enough the one time you came home drunk enough to miss the girls' beds, so figure it out."

Xander choked. Angel... and Spike. Oh god, some things he did not need to know. "Hey, about those Clippers? Looking good this season," Xander tried to deflect the conversation, but both vampires ignored him. Well, Angel ignored him, Spike told him to shut up and gave him a slap on the ass that made Angel's eyebrows raise.

"Spike, I'm going to assume you've forgotten how little patience I have for you, but let me try this again. What the hell are you doing with Xander?"

"The boy warms my bed, not that it's any of your business. We just thought we'd drop in for a family visit, but if you have nasties to kill, all the better," Spike shrugged.

Xander stayed silent, even when Angel tightened his lips and scrunched all his facial features toward the center as though some demon were trying to suck off his face. And staying silent, not so easy, because he could think of any number of face sucking jokes that he *could* make.

Spike's hand moved up to Xander's neck, grabbing him by the scruff, and Xander hunched his shoulders instinctively at the pressure.

"Hey, I'm big with the non-insulty manners, here," Xander protested. Spike tightened his grip a little more.

"Oi, can hear ya thinkin' them," he said. Xander just sighed as Spike pulled him a little closer and the hand around his neck moved so that it draped over Xander's shoulder. Angel's face now sort of dropped into a frown that made his eyes nearly disappear under his eyebrows. Okay, so Xander might be exaggerating a little, but it wasn't a good expression.

"I don't need help," Angel growled. Xander wondered if a laxitive would improve the vamp's mood.

"Never said you did. I figure we can just punch the hell out of whatever nasty you're hunting, and then we can talk some. So, let's go," Spike said as he pulled Xander around and started heading for the door they'd just come in. Angel got in front of them.

"He is not going." Angel said as he glared at Xander, but then his voice choked off at the end as though something had wrapped around his throat and squeezed off the air. Xander was fairly certain that the something was disgust since the fingers of Spike's second hand crept under the waistband of Xander's jeans.

Xander could feel his ears warm with embarrassment. Spike tightened his arm and Xander allowed himself to lean back into that strength. He knew facing Angel would be hard. But, like Spike said, better to deal with one overbearing, obnoxious, stick-their-nose-into-other- people's-business friend at a time, and if they didn't tell Angel, Buffy sure as hell would. Xander just really wished Spike wasn't enjoying this quite so much.

"He's not going with us," Angel finally ordered.

"Not your call, Peaches," Spike said with far too much amusement in his voice. Xander rolled his eyes. He wasn't sure how he felt being Spike's 'secret weapon,' the Shaman powers hidden until Spike could show them off and rub Angel's nose in them. Personally, Xander didn't think there would be much rubbing. No matter what Spike said about demons and power and wanting to claim power, Angel would never see him as anything other than annoying: he could see that in the barely contained fury on Angel's face.

"Then neither of you will come, William," Angel growled.

"Oi, seems to me we settled this little debate. Don't have to do jack-all that you say, mate," Spike answered, amusement still coloring his tone. Angel's fists clenched.

"And you didn't want *me* to piss him off?" Xander whispered.

"Careful pet, wouldn't want me ta punish you in front the poof, would ya?" Spike asked sweetly. Xander's ears burned even hotter, and Angel made a strangled squack-like noise.

"I've got demons to kill," Angel snapped as he stormed out of the office, slamming the door.

"Right, we're right behind ya," Spike announced cheerfully as he herded Xander after Angel. The convertible was parked along the side of the building, and now Xander could see one whole wall scorched black, and the ruins of a building next door which had turned into a giant pile of bricks.

"In you go," Spike said as he practically tossed Xander into the backseat. Angel had already rolled away from the curb when Spike landed in the passenger side seat. Angel tightened his fingers around the steering wheel, but didn't say anything as he navigated the streets.

Eventually, he turned in at a fairgrounds on the edge of town, bright lights whirling high in the air and screaming voices drifting on the breeze. Demons at a carnival, and that was actually pretty cliche, Xander thought as he hurried after Spike and Angel.

"Right, so what are we looking for?" Spike asked.

"I'm looking for vampires."

"Doesn't narrow the field much. This type of place always attracts a few random minions picking off the careless. What are they doing to get your ire up?"

Angel stopped, and looked at Spike with murderous eyes.

"I fight every vampire I find. There is no such thing as a death too small to fight."

"Right," Spike said disbelievingly.

"Go away, Spike."

"I will, mate, just as soon as these baddies are taken care of. So, why drive half way across the city to hunt here?" Spike prodded again. Xander trailed along after them feeling vaguely like the family pet, but then he got the feeling that these two were dealing with shit that had nothing to do with Xander and Spike and Xander or even Xander and shamen, not that Angel knew that bit yet. They walked in silence, and Xander couldn't spot anything that screamed "vampire" other than a Goth chick with a huge cross necklace which sort of suggested she wasn't actually a vampire. Angel stopped.

"They're collecting sacrifices. Children. They're going to drain their blood and summon a demon," he finally admitted.

"I don't smell 'em," Spike said. "Pet," Spike looked back and Xander stepped forward. Right, time for the floor show. "They're planning on draining children, probably excited by how helpless the kiddies are. Hungry, frustrated at not taking a taste... either that or they have tasted them. They want power, and they think they're going to get it tonight."

Xander nodded, and then closed his eyes tightly.

"What are you doing?" Angel asked, but Xander ignored it as he opened his eyes to a new landscape. Xander felt for the lust for power and blood, seeing a few possible threads appear in the tangle of faint shadow threads. Xander focused on one, making it thicken as he concentrated. Lust, but lust for money.

Xander turned his head and followed a second thread. It was dark, and throbbing, inhuman, but he abandoned it after feeling the fear and disgust roll off one of the workers, a thick necked man who clearly wasn't human.

"Watch it," the guy complained as Xander bumped him, and some sort of scuffle broke out behind Xander as he felt it. There. The dark cords tangled together, three or four. All pulsated with hunger and lust and power and a raw superiority. Xander followed, blindly ignoring the people and the ropes until hands grabbed his shoulders, pushing him away from his goal.

Xander fought to turn back, but the hands moved him forward until finally Xander could turn to the source of that evil.

"Bloody fuck, they're starting," Spike hissed. Xander shook his head, making the vision retreat as Spike and Angel raced away from the fair and out into a field of broken corn stalks. Xander raced after them, grabbing the stake from the back of his jeans as he heard the first sounds of flesh hitting flesh.

Xander reached the fight and found children, their hands tied to stakes pounded into the ground. When Xander pulled out a knife, a girl started to scream, and Xander shushed her. "I'm just cutting the ropes. Just sit still and let me get you free," he begged. A little boy desperately scooted away so that Xander couldn't slip the knife between the rope and the hands without cutting him.

"I'm with the police. I'm a policeman. I'm trying to rescue you," Xander finally lied. The girl immediately stopped screaming and the boy held out his hands with wide eyes. "Stay together. Stay together now," Xander said as he cut loose the boy and then a quiet girl and finally the screamer. The fight was still going on.

"Stay together. Run to the lights and find the first person with a uniform, but stay together," Xander said as he put the boy's hand into the quiet girl's custody and then did the same with the screamer. "Run. Run as fast as you can, but stay together," he said as he gave them a push. The three children fled toward the fairgrounds, and Xander focused on the fight in time to see Angel and Spike grab the last minion. Angel swung his ax just as Spike struck out with a stake, and who knows which hit first, but the minion turned into another pile of ash.

"The kids," Angel said as he looked around.

"All three are heading for the fairgrounds. They'll be fine as long as they stay together and find a guard," Xander said as he put his knife and stake away.

"No more of them, then?" Spike asked as he waved toward the ash still settling to the ground.

"Greed and general not-niceness, but no more murderous demons with blood rituals," Xander agreed.

Angel just stood and stared. It was too dark here for Xander to see his face, but Spike obviously could.

"You look like a bloody idiot with that expression on your face," he said smugly as he moved to behind Xander and wrapped his arms around Xander's waist.

"Hey, why do you get to insult him if I don't?" Xander demanded.

"Not an insult... just an observation."

"Um, that sounds like something I'd say, so I'm calling it an insult. Well, except for the bloody part. When I say bloody I usually mean bloody as in blood." Xander shrugged.

"What is going on?" Angel demanded. He took a step closer, and now Xander could see the suspicious expression on his face. Okay, maybe that was suspicion. Xander wasn't actually sure.

"Wot?" Spike asked. "Ya wanted the buggers found, and we found them." Spike was enjoying this entirely too much.

"And *how* did you find them, exactly?" Angel demanded, his eyes never leaving Xander. Xander squirmed a bit under the attention, and Spike's arms around his waist tightened.

"Interestin' question. I figure you've known the boy a lot longer than I have, so it's your own soddin' fault for never noticing."

Xander could feel Spike shrug, the movement telegraphed from his vampire's body to his own.

"Not noticing what?" Angel took another step forward, and now Xander could see the muscles under Angel's shirt tensing so that silk shifted over his body. Funny, that expression was looking more Angelus than Angel, and with the silk shirt, Xander could feel the first tendrils of worry. He opened himself slightly, allowing the Shaman part of his mind to see the threads of the universe that tangled around them all.

Immediately, Xander sucked in a deep breath. From Angel came a corded, twisted thread, a silky, slick black rope of sickness and hate that twisted and snapped before smaller threads wove around it, sticking to it and obscuring the raw fury with guilt and sorrow and need and fear.

Xander looked up at Angel, seeing the demon inside as clearly as he could see the nose and the brown eyes and the confusion.

"Pet," Spike's voice drifted around him, pushing away the image of those threads, and Xander blinked himself back into this world.

"Hey," Xander answered, a good sort of non-committal answer since he really didn't know what to say after seeing that. The purity of the evil horrified Xander now that he could see it clearly. He pressed back into Spike's embrace and blinked away the ghost images that crowded his vision. And really, it was almost worse to see Angel's soul's threads wrapping and twisting and sometimes snapping as they struggled to embrace that evil, cocooning in so that it couldn't touch the world.

"You don't use the sight again, not around him, pet, understand?" Spike said in a low voice, and Xander nodded, happy to have that particular order.

"What sight?" Angel demanded. Without the Shamanic vision, Angel just looked annoyed, but even now Xander could feel the darker thread lurking just beneath the surface.

"Gotta wonder how you could fight next to him all those years and never notice."

"Spike, if you don't start explaining what is going on, I'm going to crack your head on the sidewalk," Angel growled. Xander couldn't help the tremble that went through his limbs and Angel backed off a step.

"Xander?" he asked.

"Okay, are we done with the Angel torture now? I'm thinking hot bath. Hot bath and bed. Bed would be good," Xander quietly pleaded.

"He's a Shaman. He couldn't figure out how to control it, but he'd get sucked toward evil because he could feel it sliding just under the skin. We thought he was trying to off himself, but it was just him bein' a white hat, trying to save everyone else without understanding how to save himself."

"A Shaman?" Doubt colored Angel's voice, and Xander couldn't really blame him. But he'd better learn how to convince people because Buffy and Giles and Willow weren't going to be any less with the doubting.

"I can see Angelus," Xander said softly, "like an oily black cord straining, only you keep twisting around that hate, trying to hold it. You can feel him surge forward, and snap through the threads of your control, and you just have to cling to the hope that you can hold him. That's why you hold on to your guilt. It sticks to Angelus, clings to his essence so that you can hold on to all that hate inside," Xander said softly. He looked up at Angel's face, and Angel staggered back as though he'd been punched.

"But you aren't Angelus. I can see your threads as clearly as his. And I could see the life threads of the demons we tracked here, I could see their hatred. I am a Shaman," Xander finished.

The distant sounds of the carnival rumbled as the three of them stood in the field. Angel stared at them until Xander pressed back against Spike, feeling his arms tighten protectively, and Xander chewed his lower lip.

"Seeing that. Knowing what it means to have a soul and a demon, how can you let Spike touch you?" Angel finally demanded.

"Oi, I do more than touch him. Own him, don't I? He's mine, gave himself to me, the way demons in a clan do," Spike objected.

"Spike," Angel growled, and Xander blinked, watching as the black cord twisted up in rage and impotent jealousy.

"Angelus hates that Spike has what he wants," Xander announced. The black cord surged before again being buried beneath the threads of Angel's own soul.

"I hate to see Spike manipulating you into something you don't understand," Angel corrected him.

Xander shook his head.

Spike chuckled darkly. "I told you the old sod would be jealous as hell that I have myself a Shaman. And the longer you use those powers of yours, the more powerful they seem to be getting."

"And you just want bragging rights." Angel stepped forward, his hands curled into angry fists. "You want to be able to rub my nose in having something that you think I want. That's why you went after Buffy. That's why you tried so hard to make Dru love you, because I was always number one in her life and you knew it."

"You don't know the first thing about me. I never did anything but love whoever I fell for. Never claimed to be anything other than love's bitch," Spike snapped back.

"You can't tell me that he loves you, not if he can see our demons," Angel countered.

"Oh, I can see what Spike is, just like I can see what you are," Xander interrupted the fight. "You aren't the same. Spike's soul doesn't battle his demon, and I gave myself to both his soul and his demon because it's the best way to keep him from ripping himself apart."

"Shh, luv. Bastard doesn't deserve an explanation." Spike reached around and put a hand on Xander's chin, pulling his gaze away from Angel.

"But he's going to call Buffy or Buffy's going to call him, and I don't want them doing the conspiring thing," Xander protested as he turned back to Angel. "I can read you and Spike better than most people because with the whole demon and soul thing, it's like having the parts separated out so that I can see them clearer. I'm not walking into this blind, and I know how possessive Spike is, and maybe that's a not so much of a good thing since it's a little with the obsessive, but don't try making it seem like I don't know what I'm doing," Xander insisted.

Angel just looked at him with wide eyes. Finally he shifted his gaze to Spike. "If you hurt him, I will hunt you down," Angel said.

"Not going to happen, Peaches." Again, the silence fell between them.

"And if I lose my soul, you get him as far away from me as you can," Angel finally added, his voice now quiet and tired.

"Goes without sayin'," Spike agreed.

"You two take the car back to the hotel. I need some time," Angel said as he tossed Spike the car keys. Spike snatched them from the air and used his arm around Xander's waist to urge him away from Angel.

Xander followed Spike's lead, stepping over the dried corn stalks that stuck up out of the ground and crunching over the brown leaves.

"Okay, that went..." Xander paused. "It just went," he finally finished.

"Oi, the sod is jealous as hell, and he's given us his approval, so Buffy won't find an ally with him," Spike said. "Went a hell of a lot better than I expected."

"What, you thought you'd have to battle over me?" Xander snorted a laugh, but when Spike didn't answer, Xander stopped, digging in his heels when Spike tried to pull him forward. "You thought Angel would try to take me?" he demanded.

"Well, yeah."

"And you still brought me here? Hello! What is it with you two? I am not to be given away or stolen away or won like the prize bull, and feel free to start apologizing now."

Instead of apologizing, Spike pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Xander had an image of him dropping the thing and setting the whole field on fire, but right now he had bigger complaints than Spike's smoking.

"Pet, watch your tone," Spike warned, blowing smoke out into the cool night air.

"Watch my tone? Watch my tone?" Xander demanded incredulously, okay, that might have been a small squawk, but he was entitled. Spike obviously didn't agree because he closed the distance between them, grabbing Xander by the back of the neck with one hand while he held the cigarette away in the other.

"Yes, bloody watch your tone. You said you understood what it meant, givin' yourself to my demon, but you obviously don't. I'll bloody well dust before I let someone take you, but you have to trust me to know how to keep you safe," he growled, and Xander could see the fear in every tight line of Spike's face. He relaxed his body, leaning forward into Spike, and the hand that had grabbed him turned into a fierce hug.

"I'm just freaking out here. And you are not allowed to dust, ever," Xander whispered. "But fighting over me is kinda medieval in the knights fighting over a girl way, and I'm not really wanting to be the girl in that scenario."

"You're not a bloody bint," Spike said as he let Xander go. "But demons fight over control, and Angel soddin' well wants you."

"And you know, I was getting that feeling too, which is big with the creepiness," Xander said with a shudder as Spike led them back toward the carnival, a hand on Xander's back.

"Angelus wants the Shaman in you; it's why he took Dru, to get control of her powers."

"Which is why the telling you to keep me away if his soul goes on shore leave," Xander nodded.

"Fuck yes. If the soul takes a crapper, we're vacationing in another dimension, pet," Spike agreed. "But at least now I can have it out with Buffy without Angel coming in on his white horse trying to play knight in shining armor. If it came to a fight, don't care to know which side Buffy would take," Spike said indifferently, even though Xander could guess at his pain.

"So, no potential fighting over me like I'm the princess in the tower?" Xander asked.

Spike snorted. "You're soddin' strange, you know that, yeah?"

"Totally," Xander nodded.

"Angel isn't going to fight over you, so I figure that just leave Willow, Giles and Buffy."

"You can take them," Xander tried joking, even though the thought of them fighting over him made his guts curl up into a little ball.

"If I had to, yeah," Spike agreed. "Not really my first plan, pet."

"You mean you actually plan?"

"Oi, someone's looking for a spanking," Spike warned.

"Oh yeah, because that's a threat that's going to keep me from mouthing off," Xander rolled his eyes. Spike was entirely too serious, but Xander knew how to keep his vampire from getting all obsessive about Buffy and Angel and things that were in the past that needed to stay in the past.

"Brat," Spike said with a swat on Xander's ass.

"Hell yeah," Xander agreed. "Your brat." He wiggled his ass and walked faster so that he would get ahead of Spike. They had nearly reached the edge of the carnival, and Xander glanced back to make sure Spike was watching before he dashed off.

Xander heard a British curse behind him, and he ran faster, grabbing a support pole for a tent and swinging around a corner with a laugh. A group of teenagers who stood too close for Xander to dash through forced him to slow down, and he caught a glimpse of white hair pushing through the crowd after him.

Xander smiled and detoured around the back of the food alley, where the trash cans smelled of fried bread and sugar. Not wanting to get caught here, he ran faster, dashing to the edge of the parking lot and skirting it south into the dark where the security building squatted. Ducking down to avoid the windows, Xander didn't even see the figure racing across the dying grass. He just felt the body slam into him, pushing him down into the warm earth of a flower bed.

"And just where do you think you're going?" Spike demanded mischievously, showing his fangs.

"Um, to the car?" Xander blinked up innocently, and then he thrust his hips up toward Spike who was firmly sitting on him.

"Looked like someone was running away from his master," Spike corrected him. Xander remained silent. Spike must have taken that for permission because he leaned down and commanded Xander's mouth in a dangerous kiss.

Xander lay quiet, not moving as those razor sharp fangs slid over his lips, sharp front teeth nipping at his mouth. And while Xander knew that Spike would never actually hurt him, that sharp danger made him gasp for breath.

"Someone's naughty," Spike whispered as he pulled back, and then he licked Xander's neck. Xander had no idea if the naughty was the running or the fact that Xander was now very interested in sex with a room full of security guards inches away, but he didn't care as Spike sucked as his pulse, making him thrust up into Spike's body.

"Over," Spike ordered, and used his supernatural strength to physically lift Xander, urging him onto hands and knees, and Xander obeyed, pressing his face toward the smell of healthy earth and crushed daisies as he felt hands at his belt.

"Oh shit," he breathed.

"Best be quiet or we're going to have some company out here," Spike hissed in his ear, and Xander felt his heart race, which made his cock all the happier.

Spike pushed his pants and underwear down to his thighs, leaving Xander's cock dangling, and Xander squirmed until strong hands grabbed his hips. Oh yeah, he was wired funny because that just made his heart pound faster and his cock ache with need.

Xander felt one hand disappear, and he made a strangled, protesting noise, but then slick fingers pressed into him, and he just focused on not crying out. Sex in public, hot. Getting caught by security guards with big sticks, not. Getting Spike to dress up like a security guard with a big stick.... Xander groaned contentedly as that fantasy flitted through his mind.

Another finger pressed into him and Spike found his happy button. Xander arched his back and panted as Spike pulled out his fingers and something larger slowly pressed into him. Fuck, yeah. Oh he was so going to scream and get them caught. He pressed his forehead to the ground and just endured as pleasure made his spine tingle and muscles stretched and came to life. Spike pressed up to the back of his legs, and Xander whined in need and excitement and maybe even a little fear.

Taking pity, Spike pulled out and thrust in again quickly, grabbing Xander's cock as Xander dug his fingers into the dirt and thrust back and choked on his own silent cries. When he came, his body jerked until Spike grabbed him, yanking him up and sinking fangs into his neck.

Xander couldn't hold back his keening sound as his body spasmed, impaled on both ends.

"You hear that?" a male voice asked, and Xander silently finished his orgasm, shaking as he grabbed the arm Spike had slung around his waist. Spike first licked and then kissed his neck, and Xander let his head loll to the side.

"Hear what?"

"I don't know, heard something."

Spike pulled up his underwear, awkwardly tucking Xander Junior in directions Xander Junior didn't like, and Xander rearranged himself, tucking everything away quickly as he pulled his jeans up.

"You're always hearing things."

"I'm telling you I heard something."

Xander stood up, wiping off his arms where dirt clung to him. Spike stepped forward and brushed his face, and Xander cursed himself as he felt the damp dirt on his forehead. Oh yeah, real subtle.

"So go check it out," one of the voices said dismissively, and Xander looked toward the guard shack in panic, his brain shutting down right about when a coherent thought would have been helpful. A strong grip closed around his wrist, and Xander found himself pulled off balance, and he ran after Spike just to keep from being dragged behind him. They raced along the bushes that lined the south edge of the parking lot, staying just outside of the pools of light created by the lamps, and Xander noted a number of surprised, and sometimes half-dressed couples as they jumped over them.

Spike didn't stop until they reached Angel's convertible, by which time Xander was gulping air, and Spike was laughing hard enough to make the sides of his eyes go all crinkly.

"Not. Funny," Xander finally huffed.

"Oi, bloody well is. You're still all full of muck. Guess we'll just have to get Peach's car dirty then," Spike smiled as he opened the passenger side door.

"Angel's going to go a grrrr over this car," Xander said as he slipped in, his ass grinding dirt into the upholstery.

"I'm counting on it, pet. Well, that and I'm counting on us being on a plane for England before he finds it." Xander snickered as Spike walked around to the driver's side and got in. "One family member down, three more to go, pet," Spike said as he started the car.

"We'll make it," Xander said confidently.

"Bloody well right we will." Spike agreed.

Chapter 2

Xander leaned back in the seat, ignoring the fear that always crawled into his belly when the aircraft started to land. Oh, he could face demons and gods and African food and blinding humiliation, but one little aircraft landing and his stomach tied up like… like something really knotty. And for that matter, he didn't know why he was bashing African food because it was good compared to English food.

When Spike's hand slid over his, Xander gave a weak smile.

"Down in a sec, pet."

"I'm fine. See me be fine? Big with the fine," Xander protested weakly. Spike didn't answer, but he tightened his hold on Xander's hand, the one that was clutching the seat's arm. No matter how often he told himself that the fear was stupid, Xander failed to actually believe it so he held his breath until the plane touched ground, bouncing slightly and then rolling down the runway to the screech of tires.

The plane turned and slowly rolled toward the airport, and Spike pulled out his cellphone.

"You're not supposed—"

"Oi, I don't follow stupid rules, do I?" Spike asked as he slipped the earpiece into one ear and shielded the phone in his lap. If a stewardess hadn't been walking by right then, Xander might have argued about signals and towers and controllers, but instead he just smiled silently at the lady as she walked by.

Spike pretty much did what Spike wanted, and right now, making a fuss would just get them pulled off by airport security and frisked so thoroughly that Xander would end up wondering if he should add the guard to his list of lovers. It had happened once at the Bulawayo airport in Zimbabwe, and they'd been all apologetic after going through his bags and leaving him sitting in his underwear in an interrogation room for an hour, but he really didn't think he needed a repeat.

"Hey, we're back," Spike told the person in the phone, but he turned to Xander as if talking to him, and Xander nodded knowingly. They were so going to get caught.

"A ride would be nice…. Then send one of the girls…." Spike paused for a long time, his face impassive as whoever was on the other end went on and on and on. He rolled his eyes and then sucked air through his teeth in a way that suggested someone was about to get eviscerated. "Bloody hell, has to be some way!"

"And I'm really sorry, but no with the wayage. I'm not seeing a way," Xander babbled in Spike's general direction as the man in front of them turned around with a confused expression. "Nope, no way, so sorry, and I'm sorry, we'll just keep our conversation down," Xander told the man as he did his best to cover for Spike's little outburst.

Luckily, Spike had fallen silent again, listening with an expression that did nothing to make Xander feel any better. Maybe if they were all too busy to come to the airport that meant another apocalypse. In general, Xander was not fond of apocalypses; they made his eye socket ache. However, right now a little Hellmouthy action would be good for the distraction.

He suddenly remembered that Willow had sent him off to study Sentinels specifically to get him away from Spike, and as much as he loved Willow, she wasn't really known for going with the flow. She was more the try to redirect the whole river to make it flow where she wanted it to flow, and Xander wasn't really fond of her ways of redirection.

Oh yeah, a little apocalyptic fun might be the thing to distract Willow from any attempts to redefine reality. Yeah, she had given up the magical memory wipes and manipulation, but she still had the Willow eyes and pouting and the all-powerful 'listen to me because I know you better than you know yourself' speech. But then, if that was true, why hadn't she ever noticed that he was a Shaman?

"Just do it," Spike snarled far too loudly, and this time a number of people turned and looked. He yanked the earpiece off and shoved the phone in his pocket just as a stewardess came through, her eyes scanning the rows.

"Is there a problem here?" she asked primly in her stiff English accent, holding on to the seat backs as something bumped the plane.

"Just a git who's annoyin' me," Spike said as he turned to Xander. "Andrew must be the most annoyin' piss ant on the whole bloody planet," Spike growled, and Xander got it.

"Sorry," he said with a half-shrug. Let the stewardess think he was Andrew of the annoyingness if it got them off the plane without a police escort. The stewardess looked at them for a second and then wandered off.

"We're on our own for a bit, pet," Spike said as he stood up and retrieved their bags from the overhead.

"I got that," Xander confirmed.

Xander followed Spike through customs and a more thorough than usual body search. It wasn't up to Zimbabwe's standards, but the guard got to at least second base with him. He kept waiting for some sort of explanation from Spike, but he suffered through the security with tight lips and as few words as possible.

Figuring that Spike couldn't talk about it with so many people around, Xander just followed him through airport, grabbing the bag they'd checked and searching for something American from the various food vendors. Xander had spent over a year in Africa eating things that where he couldn't identify the meat... or the vegetables for that matter. Now he wanted good old fashioned American ground mystery meat. The airport slowly filled as planes landed, but board after board showed planes being delayed from taking off. But Spike led them away from the crowded center.

They ended up sitting on the floor of the main terminal, Xander leaning on the bags and munching a hot dog piled with all the fixings while Spike bounced a tennis ball against garbage can. The thing would hit with a dull thud, bounce once and then Spike would snag it from the air and throw it again. Thud-bounce-catch.

"I'm assuming that the hang up isn't demonic since everyone else seems to be hung up too," Xander said as he looked at the crowded airport. People clustered around the few public televisions, more crowded around those ones that you had to put a credit card through to get to work. He shoved the rest of the hot dog in his mouth, chewing as Spike sat silent. Thud-bounce-catch.

"Someone blew up the Tube," Spike finally said after Xander swallowed.

"They… WHAT?" Xander looked over, but Spike just kept bouncing the ball.

"Seems like a few dozen dead… maybe more. City's just pretty well shut down, which is why Andrew can't get a car in for us, roadblocks are making travel hard, and the slayers are busy with the nasties who've decided ta take advantage of the cock up. The phones aren't doing well either, so it's lucky Willow mojo'ed ours. Might be here for a while." Thud-bounce-catch.

"Spike, who?"

Spike tilted his head and gave Xander an incredulous look.

"Okay, ruling out demons, I can guess who, but what are we going to do?"

"Pet, people have tried ta shut down the city before." Thud-bounce-catch. "Dru and me left for New York after nearly getting blown to bits by an IRA bomb outside a pub. Now that's just wrong, bombing people who are just trying to get pissed enough to forget their crap-all lives."

"Okay, this changes things. No way can we go pushing in there and announce to them that we're all couply after this," Xander said. That made Spike pause with the ball bouncing.

"No, it doesn't. City'll get up tomorrow, sweep up the streets, and keep right on going. If the jerries didn't stop us, a few cowards with bombs sure as hell aren't."

"But—"

"Do you want to hide us?" Spike asked, the tennis ball still in hand.

"No, of course not, but—"

"No buts. Life goes on, pet, at least for those that survived. And for us, life means telling the others that we're together now."

"Which would be where life ended," Xander tried joking. Spike shifted around, reaching out and grabbing Xander's hand with enough force to make Xander flinch.

"Your life isn't bloody ending."

"Just a joke," Xander tried defending himself. "Jokage, you know, where people exaggerate or say things that aren't true in order to make others laugh."

"'M not laughing."

"Okay, it was bad jokage," Xander agreed. "I'm just…. Look," Xander struggled, "I'm the sidekick, specifically, I'm Buffy's sidekick, only now, I'm not, and change is not always good. Every time I try to change, it actually turns out really bad, and you were there for many of those disasters, like the whole kicking Buffy out thing, which looking back… I'm just blaming the pain pills because that didn't even make sense."

"Pet." Spike shoved the ball behind their bags and pulled Xander close. Xander sagged into that strength, letting his head rest on Spike shoulder and closing his good eye. If some old lady with blue hair frowned at him, he'd get all weird and want to pull back, and right now he just needed to feel Spike's arms.

"You're English, how can you take this so calmly?" Xander asked. He'd ridden the Underground after he wrecked the one car Giles has authorized. He remembered seeing the group of kids who'd bundled on, some adult madly counting heads as the doors closed.

"It's what we do, pet. We've been around terrorism a good bit more than you lot, and there's nothing a good cup of tea can't fix," Spike said softly. "But you're upset because you can't stop it, you can't fix it."

Xander lay in the dark of his own closed eye and thought about that one for a second. "I can't really stop any of the evil," he finally said.

"Bloody hell, Xan. You're the one who brought Buffy back from the dead, and you faced down Angelus. I’m still surprised the wanker didn't grab you after that trick, and if you ever do anything that stupid again, I'll chain ya to the bloody bed. You fought on that last day, thinking you were going to die. You smelled of resignation and bitter acceptance, but you still waded into battle and you helped close the Hellmouth."

"Willow called the slayers, Buffy and the slayers fought the minions of hell, and you died in a big blaze of glory. I just stood at the edges," Xander disagreed.

"Bollocks. You gave everything to the fight, and more than once you did your bit to turn the world back to good."

Xander heard the words, but he had trouble really believing them. When fingers stroked his hair, he dismissed the whole debate and let himself just feel. Thinking bad, feeling Spike smooth fingers through his curls good. Xander pushed aside thoughts of the Underground and children or of demons and Hellmouths as he just let himself drift to sleep in Spike's lap.

"Rise and shine, pet," Spike voice called, and Xander squinted his eye open. The florescent lighting still made the whole airport feel like noon, but the stiffness in his body suggested that he had slept for a while. Considering the people trying to sleep a scrunched up in chairs, it would seem a lot kinder to turn the lights down, but not so much. Security officers walked through, their eyes scanning the waiting room nervously.

"We need to move?" Xander asked as various body parts check in with complaints. He really couldn't comfortably sleep on floors any more, not that floors were ever that comfortable.

"Our chariot awaits." Spike half pushed Xander to his feet and then handed up the eyepatch. Realizing with horror that it had come off, Xander slipped it back into place before he emotionally scarred some kid who happened to look over at the wrong time. "Willow managed to get here," Spike added, "but we need to head out and do a little hiking. She has the car parked over on Hatch Lane."

"Okay, so here we go," Xander said without much enthusiasm. Spike glanced over, but he didn't say anything as he grabbed the larger bag, Xander's bag, and slung it over his shoulder.

Xander grabbed Spike's much smaller bag and followed him through the maze of the airport. People watched them quietly, the normal chatter of an airport quieted by the disaster that had slowed the system to a halt. Eventually, they reached the front doors. Three busses idled as airport employees ushered people onto them, but Spike pulled him north, away from them.

The night air was cooler than Xander was used to, but summer in England never brought the heat Xander knew from California. The city was quiet, strangely quiet, and the air felt like rain. It was weird. He left for Africa and while he was trying to negotiate with a slayer's family over a bowl of cassava, the Towers fell in New York. He was off playing 'make the vampire jealous' with Angel, and bombers hit London.

Hell, he took a three day trip into the bush to find a slayer north of Habila, and he came back to find Janjaweed militias had rolled through the village he'd been staying in, leaving the dead strewn across the ground. The woman who had laughed as Xander had choked on the local alcohol had laid with her legs splayed obscenely, blood on her cold thighs.

He'd stayed there long enough to help bury the dead. Looking back, he wondered whether he could have used his vision to see the danger coming. Had his instincts sent him out of the village? Xander pushed that thought away. He'd gotten malaria not long after that, despite the antimalarial drugs he took. Yeah, he might end up in the middle of every supernatural disaster, but he seemed to miss most of the mundane ones.

They walked along the side of the road until the airport disappeared behind them and they followed the edge of a field. The traffic was light, and the ubiquitous buses and taxis were completely absent. Two fields, three parking lots, and two very tired feet later, Xander finally spotted the back end of Willow's car, parked outside a house.

"Xander!" Willow called as the door came open, and Xander caught an armful of witch. "Oh goddess, I've missed you, and I was worried." Willow backed off a step and hit his arm.

"Ow!" Xander complained even though it didn't hurt.

"Spike said that Blair was a Shaman, and you do not have good luck with magical people, don't make me bring up Ampata."

"No bringing up of ex's. You have a clanky not-so-good ex or two in your closet, too," Xander defended himself, and Willow hit him again.

"Thanks for bringing him home to us, Spike," Willow said. Xander glanced helplessly over toward Spike as Willow dragged him to the passenger side of the car. Spike just tossed the bags into the trunk Willow had popped open.

"Yeah, no problem." Spike slammed the trunk and then opened the door behind Willow. Xander got into the car and twisted around to look at Spike, but the vampire just gazed back with no clue about how to handle this.

"Seatbelt," Willow chirped. Xander pulled the belt across his chest before he even registered the words.

"So, you met a Sentinel, and how cool is that. I know you weren't all excited-boy about going, but you're looking good, really good. I bet you're happy now that you went, right?" She asked as she drove through the quiet streets toward the edge of town.

"Totally happy," Xander agreed with a smile toward Spike. Spike gave a small smile of his own, a smirk that let the tip of his tongue slide out from between his lips. "Totally happy, and as soon as we get back to the house, I'll tell you all about it." Xander watched as the smile on Spike's face vanished, replaced with something a little more wary. So not good.

Chapter 3

The Watchers' mansion was overlit, nearly every window shining in the misty dark of the night.

"I'm thinking I'm glad I don't have to pay that light bill," Xander joked as Willow pulled up to the front, parking the car as close as she could to the front. In the distance, he could hear the dull roar of thunder, but so far the night had just threatened rain without actually delivering.

"Giles is going to give the economy speech again," Willow agreed. "And sigh, and possibly show the chart with the household expenses on a pie chart done with all the different colors."

The front door to the mansion flew open before Xander could answer, and Buffy ran down the steps. Just when Xander expected to have his door torn open so that she could give him a flying hug, Buffy stopped on the driver's side, pulling open Willow's door.

"We have a nest making trouble, grabbing some people as they walk home," Buffy just about gasped.

"Oh goddess," Willow gasped. "Do you…"

"Do a location spell; call me when you get specifics. Spike and I will head for the general area." Buffy pulled at Willow who tumbled out of the car without complaint. "Xander, I'll give you the big welcome-home hug just as soon as me and Spike get back," Buffy offered as she slammed her door closed.

"Boy's coming," Spike said from the backseat. Xander already had his hand on the door to get out, but Spike's voice stopped him.

"Spike, no time for arguing right now. Xander, I promise lots of welcoming later, but Spike and I have to go."

"All three of us are going," Spike said calmly. "People need help, luv, so drive."

"Spike," Buffy's voice now had the darker tones of warning as she twisted around in the seat.

"Buffy, I'm not arguin' with you. Either drive, or soddin' move and let me drive," Spike said without emotion.

"I so do not have time for this," Buffy huffed as she flopped back into the seat and turned the key. "Xander, please careful. We do not want to have your welcome home party in the hospital, especially since the hospitals are a little full," she asked.

Xander flinched away from that reminder of the mess he'd left behind when he left for Cascade. As far as the girls were concerned, he was still more of a danger to himself than to any vampires. After a few weeks of getting treated like an actual useful member of the team in Cascade, he'd forgotten how much he hated being the useless one, the one who got rescued, the one who did nothing while people died horrible deaths and then lay out in the sun as the flies gathered.

Luckily, mortal terror distracted Xander from the whole self-pity party as he clung to the seatbelt, bracing himself against the dash of the car as he wondered why he'd let Buffy take the wheel. Buffy plus driving equaled crumpled fenders and blustery Giles, and Xander suddenly remembered that as she took a corner fast enough to make the car skid into the grass.

"Oi, can't save anyone if ya get us all killed," Spike complained from the back.

"One of the psychics said there was going to be a huge attack on this road. Why can't the vampires just do the stiff upper lip thing and sit home like everyone else? Attacking people who are trying to walk home in high heels is just not playing fair," she complained as she took the next corner.

Spike answered with a snort that Xander could interpret pretty easily.

"So, seems like you guys are busy. I thought you were doing this month in Italy. Why aren't you off eating pasta and raving about Italian men?" Xander asked, going for distraction before Spike said something and then Buffy said something and then Spike said something really bad… with the news he and Spike were about to drop, Xander really didn't want anyone to get pre-pissed off.

"Willow called me. She said that you'd done your Xander thing and had managed to get in trouble with a Shaman." Buffy sounded almost apologetic, like she didn't want to mention it, but Xander still blushed at the idea that the girls still talked behind his back, plotting ways to save him from himself. Yep, they looked at him and saw Xander Harris, twenty-four-year old survivor of multiple apocalypses and incompetent nincompoop.

Buffy slammed on the brake and pulled the car into a side road with a controlled skid. "Come on Willow, call," she said softly as she pulled her cell phone out.

"Pet," Spike said.

"Yeah?" Xander asked at the same time Buffy did. They looked at each other, and Xander could see Buffy's confusion in the way she raised her eyebrow. Yeah, great way to come out to the friend, Xander groaned to himself.

"Xander," Spike clarified. "Vampire's will be excited… the thought of all that prey too tired to really make a fuss. If they're feeding in a group, they're anxious… afraid there won't be enough prey or that some vamp with bigger curlies will take their prey away. But they'll feel the blood lust even more than the fear. They'll be so hungry that all they can think about is the taste of blood rich with fear and pain and confusion."

"Okay, disturbo much?" Buffy demanded. "If Angel talked like that, I'd start checking on his soul." Xander tuned out their complaints as he blinked away the real world until it became a faded picture painted on glass, a ghost-image he could see through. There weren't as many threads out here, and Xander focused on the emotions Spike had described.

"Yeah, well unlike the nob, I earned mine. It's not goin' to come popping off just because I get a happy." Spike shot back, his voice a dim echo from the far side of reality.

"Spike, what has gotten into you?"

"Not really the time or place for this discussion, slayer."

"Slayer? Now I'm 'slayer'? Okay, spill because I'm not really okay with the weirdage that's going on in this car."

"There," Xander said as he pointed out the windshield. "There, that way."

"Any idea how far, pet?" Spike asked.

"I'm not a GPS," Xander pointed out sarcastically.

"Smart ass," Spike shot back as he got out of the car and started walking. Xander got out and trotted after him.

"Obviously, some fairy god-demon sprinkled you two with weird-dust, but we don't have time for this. Willow's going to call," Buffy said as she got out, and chased them.

"Don't have time for Red to get the mojo together," Spike said as he walked faster, his duster flapping as he hurried over the uneven ground and past a row of trees. "Still the right direction, pet?"

"Um, yeah, and there are probably seven or eight vamps," Xander confirmed. Spike stopped so suddenly that Xander ran right into him, rebounding off Spike's back. Spike slipped an arm around Xander's waist as he cocked his head to the side, listening.

"Spike, Xander, someone needs to tell me what's going on because right now I'm thinking about pod people and shape changers and that movie with the perfect wives where it turns out everyone is a robot," Buffy warned as she stepped in front of them.

"I can hear people that way, a group of them walking together," Spike said as gestured in the direction of the cords Xander could still faintly see.

"And you think these are our vamp victims because… Or an even better question," Buffy interrupted herself, "why are you asking Xander where to go? Unless I missed some memo, he's been big with the out of loop for the last few weeks. So someone better start talking."

"No time," Spike snapped and then he took off, running across the field with his coat billowing behind him like Superman's cape, and Xander didn't think that comparison would go over particularly well. Buffy looked at Xander for one second before turning and dashing after Spike, hopefully to provide backup as opposed to assuming he was Stepford-Spike and staking him. Xander ran after the two of them.

By the time Xander reached the next line of trees, dust floated on the humid air and Spike battled two snarling vampires. The taller threw himself toward Spike, his fang snapping, and Spike landed a bone-crushing kick to his leg just above the knee. The snarl turned into a scream of pain, but Spike danced away, trading punches with the shorter vamp. A half-dozen women stood in a cluster near the fence, watching with wide eyes and open mouths as Buffy rammed a stake into a vampire's chest.

Looking around, Xander found one fledge on the ground, and Xander pulled his own stake and dived for the guy. Just as Xander reached him, he could see that black cord, twisting with malice and fury, snap up toward him. Xander flinched away to avoid the touch, his heart pounding with fear as he scrambled back. Unfortunately, his heel caught on a tuft of grass, and Xander ended up on his ass before he could recover.

The vampire snarled and lurched forward, which led to much crab-walking backwards on Xander's part. Just when Xander expected to get pinned to the ground and bitten, and bitten in the less fun way than Spike did the biting, the vampire flew off him.

"You don't want him," Buffy said as he practically danced over Xander. The vamp jumped up to his feet, rubbing his ribs with a grimace of pain. "He eats so much junk food that you'll get high cholesterol. And with that waistline, you cannot afford the extra pounds," Buffy finished.

Xander got up to one knee, smiling as the vampire started backing away. He'd finally figured out that his buddies were dead, and he was facing two seriously scary fighters. Spike's opponents had turned to dust, and he now closed in on the vamp who had attacked Xander.

"Ya should know better than to touch other people's property, mate," Spike offered as he snapped a branch off the tree and staked the vampire on the jagged end. "And you," Spike said as he whirled on Xander, "know how to stake a vampire without falling on your arse, so what the bloody hell was that?"

Spike strode forward, toward Xander, but then Buffy was there between them, her back to Xander as she faced Spike. "Okay. Someone explain what is going on, preferably using small words and short sentences because I'm feeling particularly blonde today. Either I'm blonder than normal or you two are from some bizzaro alternate reality with rules that make no sense."

"Oi, don't go waving that stake at me," Spike said as he stepped back.

"Hey, no stakage!" Xander added. Buffy tilted her body toward him.

"I'm not so sure who I'm waving a stake at. The last I checked in, I had these two friends, Spike and Xander, who didn't like each other much. And Spike was really not big with calling Xander 'his' and if he ever did call Xander 'his property', my friend Xander probably would have tortured Spike with toothpicks."

"Things, have changed a bit, luv," Spike said gently.

"Well, duh," Buffy interrupted. "And where did our rescuees go?"

"Um, I think they ran for it," Xander said as he gestured toward the line of houses where the women had disappeared. "And Spike and I haven't actually hated each other for a while now, Buff."

"Okay," Buffy challenged him, her hands on her hips but at least that meant the stake was down and not threatening anyone, "I may miss some stuff, like the whole the Immortal is evil vibe and the reason why the English put vinegar on their French fries, but trust me, I would have noticed any changes on the Spike-Xander hating front. I would have noticed and possibly sent you a fruit basket as a thank you because your constant fighting drove me insane ever time I came and, oh my god, you're sleeping together. Okay, I am not freaking," Buffy concluded as she closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath. "Officially not freaking."

"Hey, what do ya' know. It was easier telling you than I thought it would be," Xander smiled weakly, and Buffy cracked one eye open to glare at him before she started back across the field toward the car.

"I'm not dealing with this," she announced resolutely.

"Now, luv, don't be like that," Spike said as he followed her, and Xander trailed after him.

"Not being like any—" Buffy stopped when her phone chirped. She pulled it out and thumbed it on. "Yep?" she listened for a second. "We already kicked their asses. We're heading back now…. We got lucky and just found them, I guess," Buffy offered as she turned and stared right at Xander. When Spike sidestepped into the path of her glare, Xander was very happy to hide behind him. "Yeah, see you in a sec," Buffy finished. "Bye." She shoved the phone back into a pocket, but then she just stood there in the field.

"Buffy, we need to talk, before we get everyone else all riled up," Spike finally said, his voice soft and the accent more Giles than Spike.

"Riled up? Oh, there will be riling," Buffy nodded. "And can I just say your timing sucks?"

"Buffy—" Spike started.

"And this whole 'hate turned lust turned love' thing, it never works out. Xander and Cordelia, you and me, Willow and Kennedy getting back together after that break up that required mutual non-aggression treaties… they all fell apart," Buffy interrupted. "Or, they didn't fall apart as much as they exploded causing massive casualties and collateral damage."

"Oi, not going to happen," Spike just about snarled, and Buffy put on her patented worried look and gnawed her lip.

"Buffy, Spike and I have had the big talk, and this isn't just about lust," Xander added as he stepped to Spike's side. She looked at him with a small frown.

"Would the 'not just about lust' part have something to do with how you knew the vampires were out here?"

"Kinda," Xander agreed.

"I'm going to need aspirin to go with this conversation, aren't I?" she asked with eyes that begged him to say no.

"Probably," Xander said instead.

"Pet, let's save the Shaman bit for when we get back, explain it to them all at once, yeah?"

Xander nodded.

"You did piss off that Shaman, didn't you?" Buffy asked. "I can't believe Willow sent you off to take on a Sentinel and a Shaman by yourself."

"Let's just get back to the house, and I will turn into explaino-boy," Xander offered, and Buffy turned back toward the car with a sigh. Xander could feel his guts like a rock rolling around in his stomach as he started after her. Within one step, Spike was there, his arm sliding around Xander's waist, pulling him close, and Xander let himself lean into that embrace.

Chapter 4

Xander got out of the car teetering between an insane urge to babble about the drizzling rain and an inability to get any words to come out of his mouth at all, which was new. Usually he ran to the babbling side of nervous.

When Xander slammed the car door, Spike was there, slipping an arm around his waist as they dashed for the covered porch before they got soaked.

Buffy beat them there, leaping up the steps and pushing her damp hair back as she considered them. "Subtle, guys," she nodded knowingly. "In fact, in the subtle department, I'm putting that up there with Kennedy's whole ritualistic burning of the bedsheets."

"Hey," Xander protested, "not crazy lady here."

"Oi, don't know about the crazy part, but I'll second that ya aren't a lady," Spike offered with a leer, and Xander planted his elbow hard into Spike's side. Spike didn't let go.

"Xander? Spike?" came a confused voice. Xander turned to see Willow standing at the open door, the light spilling out from behind her. While he couldn't see anyone else, the giggles suggested that more than one baby slayer had seen them. "Oh goddess. I have not cast any spells. So, if Spike is all lusty and romanticy, this time, it is totally not my fault," she immediately defended herself.

"Chill, Will. They're going the tried and stupid route of falling in lust after being big with the fighting," Buffy shrugged as she passed Willow in the door, and with support like that, who needed undermining? Spike growled.

"Oi, just because you birds don't know how to--"

"Okay, officially saying time out," Willow rushed to say as she held up her hand as she backed up to let Spike and Xander into the front hall. "Some things are not discussed here, and you are on the verge of discussing them. Just no."

"If that's the case, then me and Xander are on the do not discuss list," Spike snapped.

"Um, which might be kinda hard since we're supposed to be doing the discussing about us," Xander pointed out, and Spike glared at him. "Or not," Xander shrugged. "I'm okay with not." Xander focused on the way his sneakers squeaked on the tile floor.

"Oh no. No, you two do not get to drop the weirdness napalm and run for the hills," Buffy insisted.

"Drop napalm… run. Um, isn't that the way it's *supposed* to go," Xander whispered to himself, and Spike's arm tightened around his waist.

"We're only going over this once, so get Giles on the boob-tube," Spike said.

"Your funeral, and I would think you'd done the funeral thing enough," Buffy commented as she disappeared into the main study.

"Giles is going to be not-happy-boy getting woken up to deal with this," Willow pointed out, not taking her eyes off Xander. He squirmed uncomfortably under her attention. And hey, his right and left sneakers made slightly different squeaky sounds. The left was definitely a little higher. He had thoughts of a wet sneaker concert with all the tile around the place. Demon goo cleaned up better with tile.

"Oh Xander," Willow said softly. "I'm so sorry we sent Spike after you. We should have come ourselves."

"Bloody hell. You're making it sound like he's dying or some such rot," Spike snorted as he stepped forward. Willow's eyes narrowed into her expression of superior disapproval, the one that she had copied from Giles, the one that made Xander start thinking about new missions to Africa… or maybe Mars.

"No dying, just some really freaky decisions that's he going to regret as soon as he stops funking, because he has been in a major funk ever since Africa, and maybe we should take you to another doctor, one who knows more about Africa, like maybe some African sleeping depression or something," Willow suggested with a suddenly hopeful expression.

"I'm not—" Xander started.

"Hey, I am so not going to be the only one in front of the camera when Giles shows up, so get in here," Buffy called from the study.

"Right, time to get this little disaster on the road, innit?" Spike asked rhetorically as he guided Xander toward the study.

Inside, books lined two walls, shelves running right up to the sides of the windows and then up and over so that they had to use a fancy wooden ladder that slid along a rail in order to reach the top shelves. The two short walls held electronics. Xander sighed and stepped to the couch right in front of the television, dropping down onto the couch and trying to smile at the camera sitting on the T.V.

"Hate this bloody thing," Spike complained as he sat next to Xander, so close that their legs pressed together.

"No joke. I mean, reach out and touch someone is all well and good until someone buzzes you when you're in the ugly pajamas with a cucumber facial," Buffy agreed as she sat on the opposite side of the couch, leaving Willow to sit in the chair.

"And as the person who did the buzzing, can I just second the not-so-good part of that?" Xander said, forcing the joke even though his stomach just sort of curled up inside him.

"Hey, you try to keep your complexion with all the slayer sweat."

"Not really something--" Xander started.

"Good lord, please tell me you did not call me to the camera to witness discussions of complexions," Giles asked from the television. Xander looked over, and Giles sat on his couch in a rumpled button-up shirt and dress slacks.

"Rupert," Spike smirked when everyone else lost their voice. At least, Xander lost his. He suddenly wondered if he even knew how to talk because words slid out of his brain like dead, slimy fish, leaving him with a big, old, empty head.

"William," Giles said dryly.

"Hey, Giles." Buffy leaned forward and waved to the camera.

"Are all of you alright?" Giles asked.

"All present and accounted for," Buffy agreed. "We just have some extra weirdness that showed up, and we know how you hate to be left out of the fun."

"Yes. Remind me to thank you later." Giles looked tired but he sighed and leaned forward. "Xander, Spike. I'm glad to see that you got in alright. I'll admit I was a little concerned about your travel plans."

"Not sleet or imploding Hellmouths or Janjaweed militias will keep me from my..." Xander paused. He didn't really have appointed rounds, at least not any more. "…will keep me from showing up to unplug whichever toilets the girls have irrevocably plugged up with random demon bits," he finally finished. Giles just blinked at him.

"Oh yeah, the third floor toilet on the north side is making this weird gurgle ever since one of the girls flushed a Guanth chunk she pulled out of her boot. Cathy? Katie? Chelsey?" Buffy struggled for the name of the guilty girl.

"Veronica," Willow provided.

"Yep, that's it. Veronica!"

"Yes, quite." Giles interrupted without saying quite what. "So, what weirdness has led you to disturb me so late? I assume it's something other than Guanth chunks."

And a hush fell over the crowd.

"Birds have their knickers in a twist because Xander's been makin' the beast with two backs with me," Spike commented with a shrug.

"Xander's going to turn into a beast?" Buffy asked, twisting around to look at them in concern while Giles did a bit of spluttering, which, thanks to really high end equipment, was so clear that Xander felt like he should duck out of the potential spit zone.

"No, he's makin' the beast with two back... we're shaggin'," Spike said with a roll of his eyes. Giles just got up and disappeared from the television.

"Okay, calling it a 'beast' doesn't really do much to drop the weird o'meter," Buffy complained. "Not to mention ew."

"Oi, you remember that hungry beast, hips crashing together, ravenous mouths--"

"NO!" Buffy shrieked, cutting Spike off. "No, there is no remembering. And this is supposed to be your intervention, not a journey to the mistakes of Buffy-past. Giles, tell them that they have to stop this before they make themselves and all of us miserable. Tell them that we're their friends, and as their friends, we are officially worried about them making a huge mistake." Buffy did the speaking, but Willow nodded the whole time.

Giles reappeared in the television screen, dropping heavily onto the couch, drink in hand. And Xander could always feel special when he drove Giles to drink.

"Oh yes, because the rest of you would never consider undertaking such an unhealthy relationship," Giles said as he leaned to the side, out of the camera's view. Yeah, like they didn't know he was gulping that Scotch.

"Sarcasm is not helping. Big with the not helping," Willow just about whispered, but Giles leaned back into the picture.

"Quite right, but after the abominable day I've had, it makes me feel a good deal better," Giles pointed out, and not for the first time Xander considered that Giles just might be turning into one of those cranky old men who have the bad habit of sharing large quantities of truth.

"Okay, none of us are batting a thousand on the significant other front... nowhere near a thousand. More like a number far below a thousand, and if I knew baseball, I could give a number," Willow admitted, "but we don't have to sit by and smile while Xander makes this mondo mistake because we do all remember that Xander hates Spike. We all remember this, yes?"

Buffy leaned back on the couch and made a face. "Oh, I remember fighting and snapping and occasional not-so-practical jokes including blood and soy sauce, but I'm not sure I remember any hating since Spike came back from the dead."

Spike snorted. "Not that this is any of you lot's business, but Xander and I won't end up as bollocked up as the rest of you, and we don't need your approval," Spike interrupted. Then he turned toward the monitor and the camera. "And if you think I care enough about your opinion to get you on the line for some sort of seal of approval on my sex life, you're doin' way too much drinking, Rupes. Got bigger fish to fry here."

Xander held his breath as that truth sank into the room. The wind shifted and big drops of rain splattered against the window.

"And this would be where the slightly weird turns to kooky hi-jinx with Xander tracking down the vampires before the attack even took place," Buffy said. She stared at him expectantly and Willow blinked and Giles leaned forward and got that expression where his eyes got all narrow.

"You tracked the vampires?" Giles asked.

"Xander?" Willow prompted. Xander just sat there, unable to find any words in the entire English language that would help.

"He's a Shaman," Spike announced, his voice all smirky. Willow froze, but Giles sat back in his chair.

"Okay, and I'm assuming you've lost your mind. Xander is not a weirdo with the bird feathers sticking up out of his hair." Buffy used her fingers to mimic the Shaman Giles had called to the estate.

"There's a wide range of shamanic powers, but why would you come to the conclusion that Xander was Shaman?" Giles asked. Because of the whole camera thing, it looked like he was staring down Buffy, but Xander guessed that would be Spike getting the demanding-Watcher glare.

"Pet, tell 'im," Spike prompted, and Xander glared over at his lover. Stupid vampire.

Taking a deep breath, Xander shrugged and focused on the blinking VCR light as he started. "Jim figured out that I was a Shaman because I have a spirit animal." Xander avoided admitting that his spirit animal was a kodkod, that admission would require torture.

"The Sentinel?" Giles asked.

"Yeah. He has these dreams, kinda like Buffy, which might make Willow's whole theory about a male half of the slayer line a little more plausible," Xander agreed.

"But, how do we know that his dream meant anything?" Willow asked. "Last night I dreamed about vacationing in Arizona with Kennedy and then she started the whole 'I know best for you' crap and suddenly we were in the mall, and a giant Santa fell on her, and guts squished out. I'm thinking it was just a dream."

Xander looked at Willow with more than a little concern.

"Can we please deal with one potential disaster at a time?" Giles asked. "Xander, while prophetic dreams are quite common in some types such as Slayers and Seers, it does not automatically follow that a Sentinel would either possess that skill or correctly interpret it. Understanding prophetic dreams can—"

"I can see another world," Xander blurted. That stopped Giles who just blinked at him through the computer screen.

"I see," Giles finally declared.

"Xander, they might have done a spell, something that scrambled your vision. I could check, fix it," Willow offered.

"There's nothing to fix, Will," Xander protested. "It's always been there, only I didn't know it."

"Okay, I would have noticed if you'd broken out with the magical powers," Buffy protested. "Xander, you're the heart of our group, and you always will be, but all through high school you wanted some sort of powers that would make you different, and now you're coming in here saying that all that time you were some powerful, magical creature. Is anyone else getting the not-right vibe? You know, like when Dawn thought she was a Slayer? Not that there's anything wrong with normal, and now Dawn happier doing Cambridge than she would have been doing Slayer." Buffy looked at him with this expression of compassionate understanding—or possibly condescension—and Xander felt the need to shrink into himself. Yep, that was one person who totally didn't believe him. From Willow's expression, probably two.

"Oi, just because you're bloody blind doesn't mean it's not true. What did Caleb call him? The one who sees everything, wasn't it?"

"Oh yeah, and we're taking evil guy's word on that?" Buffy demanded.

"No, you're takin' Xander's word on it," Spike said quietly, and Xander watched as Buffy blushed a deep red. Willow looked down at her lap, picking at the edge of her sweater.

Buffy found her voice first. "Xander, I totally believe that you believe this, but this is a little out there, more out there than you dating Spike which, really, ever since you took one look at the Initiative and asked if you could sleep with Riley, I kinda figured that you had the gayness going on," Buffy said slowly

"Xander dates girls, and there's nothing wrong with boys dating boys, but Xander doesn't," Willow protested. "And he's just been off since he got back from Africa. He did the whole trying to get himself killed thing, and then the hiding in his room thing until he turned pale as a mushroom, and now the dating someone who hates him thing, and is anyone else spotting the pattern because I'm thinking psychological help." Willow nodded knowingly. "Serious, expensive psychological help."

"Bloody hell. Caleb told us way back what we couldn't soddin' see on our own. This doesn't have fuckin' anything to do with Xander's depression or your bloody fucked up love lives," Spike snapped at both girls. "The fact is that Caleb never did lie to us, had too much truth to use against us, didn't he? And the truth *is* that Xander is the one who sees everythin'. So pull your heads out of your arses."

Giles cleared his throat in the silence that followed Spike's outburst, and Xander was reminded of the way Spike had ripped all of them when they'd turned on Buffy, accusing her of losing her Slayer-center during the fight with the First.

"Perhaps we could focus on this other world. Xander, can you describe what you see?" Giles asked, and Xander tried to not get his hopes up that someone would believe him because it hurt when hopes fell off that reality cliff and got all smashed at the bottom.

"Um, threads," Xander said. He closed his eye and let the world slip away just a little bit, so that when he opened his eye, he could see the threads tangled about the room. "It's like everyone has this cord in their center, and it unravels as they move around. There's so many of them, but if I concentrate on a feeling, I can block out the ones that don't match and find what I'm looking for."

"And you always had that power?" This time Giles sounded more than a little skeptical. Yep, good thing he hadn't gotten his hopes up. That fall would have hurt.

"In the feeling a Hellmouthy vibe way, yeah," Xander offered. He took a deep breath and pushed away that little voice that told him to just fake normal, which was more than ironic considering everyone else in the room had superpowers. "And I'm thinking that the whole demon magnet was more of me being able to feel the evil in a person, but then once I found the evil, like with hardware store gal, I couldn't do much with the stopping the evil because I don't have the total upgrade with the super stealthy fighting skills. But the being able to actually see the other world is a little new," Xander pushed ahead.

"So, three weeks with this other Shaman, and you have accessed your dormant powers?" Giles asked without even trying to hide the disbelief. "Xander, as much as I believe that you are telling us the truth as you see it, that simply isn't possible. To go from a potential Shaman to having full access to shamanic powers takes years of training, meditation, often some sort of apprenticeship, and quite possibly a number of spiritual voyages, either with or without mind altering drugs that would allow you to break down the barriers to access your power. I'm afraid I have to agree with Willow that something might have been done without your knowledge."

"Boy had an apprenticeship," Spike held up a hand to stop Willow who'd already bounded up from the couch, probably to go get some magic herbs to 'fix' Xander. "Xander apprenticed under Blair, and since the fuzzy little Shaman has his powers centered in teachin' others, so it bloody well is possible."

"Blair is a trado Shaman?" Giles asked.

"Yeah, seems like. And the fact is that Xander could track those vamps, just like he would track the criminals back in Cascade. Didn't say anything to him since the title would mean anything, but unless I miss my guess, he's an animus Shaman."

Giles sucked air through his teeth.

"Okay, was that a good noise or a bad noise, because I'm having trouble keeping up with this conversation," Buffy interrupted.

Giles took another breath. "The Shaman I asked for help with our ghostly postman was a neco Shaman, his powers were with the dead. Spike is suggesting that Xander is an animus Shaman, one who has powers over the soul."

"Oh goddess," Willow whispered, her face pale.

"Okay, still officially not following the conversation, people," Buffy said.

"And make that two of us because I'm big with the tracking, not with the power over souls," Xander agreed. "And does anyone else hear creepy horror-flick soundtracks when someone says 'power over souls'?" Xander asked.

"Unlike witches, Shaman are born, not trained," Giles explained. "They never have more than one power, but that one power does tend to be rather powerful since it is part of them from birth. A casus Shaman can create accidents or chaos, a trado Shaman specializes in teaching, a solis Shaman controls light. Spike thinks that Xander is an animus Shaman, one whose powers center around the soul."

"Okay, here comes that cold, creepy, someone walking over your grave feeling," Buffy asked softly.

"Oh, yeah," Xander agreed. Really, he didn't want those kinds of really big special powers.

"Call Angel," Spike suggested. "Boy put on a show for him, looked right into the sod's twisted soul and told the old man a truth or two he didn't want to hear."

"Angel? You went to Angel?" Giles asked.

"Soddin' right I did," Spike agreed. "The boy's mine, and I had to let Peaches know exactly what he'd let slip through his fingers when he had the boy tucked under his arm on Parent-Teacher night."

"You bloody fool. If Xander is an animus Shaman, Angelus has more than enough reason to come after him if the soul happens to slip free again." Giles stood up, and the camera angle cut his head off so that the monitor was full of Giles' white, button-up shirt.

"Yeah, he does," Spike agreed. "But one of you lot would have told him eventually, or Andrew would have. The git can't keep secrets."

Giles bent over and stared right into the camera. "I'm coming home. Don't do anything until I get there." He reached up and hit a button so that the monitor flickered and went grey.

"That would imply that any of us had any idea what to do," Buffy said softly. Xander found himself agreeing with her. The whole Shaman bit was great in Cascade, but this was really getting to be a little too much on the stress scale. He blinked away the image of that other world, the gold threads of slayers burning into his eyes for a moment longer than the other threads.

Xander felt fingers at the back of his neck, and he let himself lean back into the touch.

"Right, I'm taking the boy to bed," Spike announced as he stood up, and tugged Xander up with him. Xander felt himself blush, but then Spike pulled him out of the room before he could stammer his good nights.

Chapter 5

Xander wasn't even sure which bedroom to head for, but Spike's hand at his back guided him up the stairs towards Xander's end of the house, not the basement apartment connected to the training room that Spike used.

"Had to tell Peaches, ya know. Wasn't just about rubbin' his nose in the fact that he's a blind wanker," Spike said as they reached the top of the second staircase and turned the corner.

Xander glanced back at Spike. "Well, duh. I mean, Andrew kept the whole Spike-back-from-the-dead secret for about three minutes. And lots of the slayers do an apprenticeship with Mr. Forehead, so he would have found out."

"Least this way, he knows he has to deal with me first. If Angelus slips his leash, I'd rather have him come for me. And if that happens, you don't bloody worry about me; you get your arse back to Buffy and the others," Spike warned. He stopped in the middle of the hall outside Xander's room and pulled Xander around so that they faced each other.

"I couldn't—"

"You bloody well could," Spike snapped, and Xander blinked as he suddenly faced the demon's anger, and then Spike took a deep breath. "I need you safe if Peaches goes 'round the twist," he said with a forced calm.

"This animus Shaman… it's big, isn't it?" Xander asked quietly. Sighing, Spike turned toward Xander's bedroom and opened the door, pulling Xander in with him.

"Not as much mojo as a cruor Shaman," Spike mused, but his tone told Xander exactly what he didn't want to know.

"Fuck. That big," he whispered. If Spike could only come up with one Shaman bigger, that was big. Xander walked over to his bed and sank down. Without a word, he let himself fall back so that he lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. "Spike, I don't want this power," he told the plaster above him. "I've seen what power does. Power corrupts—absolute power makes people turn really strange and start manipulating and eventually killing others until they decide to try and end the world, and this is not a good path to be on."

"You're not the end-the-world type, pet." Spike sat on the bed so that it tilted and Xander slid a little closer until his hip rested against Spike, but he just continued to stare at the ceiling.

"Oh, I don't know. Willow is the white-hat type, more than me. I know she's the one who changed these sheets so I didn't come home to a dusty bed and she reads to the old people at the nursing home and she picks up bugs and carries them outside. But give her a little power and she gets scary. I think you remember scary-Willow: veins everywhere, flinging people around like rag dolls, serious anger management issues." Xander rolled his head to the side and looked at Spike.

"She's alright now," Spike said. He reached down and brushed the curls out of Xander's face before sliding the patch up and off. With his thumb, Spike stroked his thumb across the cheekbone under the missing eye, right where Xander knew the patch would have left a red mark.

"I'm not looking forward to the whole middle part with the world endage, and I'm totally not trusting myself to not end the world if I have some big power."

Spike sat in silence, his hand moving down to rest on Xander's shoulder. "Why do you think you'd abuse the power, pet?" he asked seriously, and Xander expelled a ragged breath.

"You know the hyena thing?"

"Yeah, heard about it," Spike agreed.

"I remember that. I remember the power," Xander turned his gaze back to the blank ceiling. "All through school I wanted power. Sometimes for the good like stopping the annual Hellmouthy apocalypse, but sometimes I just got so angry that I wanted the power to hurt other people as much as they hurt me. If I had run across Larry when I had the hyena in me, I would have beaten the shit out of him." Xander paused. "Okay, I actually probably would have eaten him, but I'm repressing that. But the point is that me and power is not really a good thing. Maybe we should ask Giles to bind the powers."

"Won't happen," Spike said confidently.

"The binding or the me turning into a power-hungry doer of evil?" Xander finally identified the tightness in his chest. Yep, that was fear. Fear that Giles wouldn't bind this power. Fear that the girls were right and he was just screwed in the head. Fear that Spike would figure out that Xander wasn't the white knight, or at least that his armor had more than a little rust.

"What won't happen is that you won't turn evil, but I won't let Giles bind your powers, either." Spike's hand closed around Xander's shoulder, holding him firmly, and Xander took a deep breath as he tried to shove all the emotions back into the dark corners of his mind.

"Aren't you supposed to be the cynical one here?" Xander asked, glancing over to Spike again. "I mean, over a hundred years and twice dead, shouldn't that have taught you that anything that can go wrong, definitely will? I'm just waiting for Darth Vader to show up and start waxing poetic about the dark side of the force."

"Waxing poetic?" Spike asked, his eyebrows raised and his lips twitching into a smile.

"I'm trying to be serious here."

"Right. Might want to think about those metaphors before they come out your mouth then. Hard to take a man seriously when he's worried about waxing poetic forces of evil," Spike nodded.

"You're laughing at me," Xander accused Spike as he pushed himself up onto one elbow and glared. "I'm baring my soul here, and you're laughing."

"'Course I'm not," Spike said as he grinned wider.

"Asshole. Besides," Xander said with an evil smirk of his own, "I'm just following in the footsteps of my master with the poetic turn of a phrase. Like poetic master, like poetic devotee," he offered. Spike glared for a second and then rolled his eyes.

"Buffy," Spike said disgustedly.

"She didn't mean to say anything; it just sort of slipped out," Xander hurried to say. Okay, that was stupid. He really didn't need those two at each other's throats over ancient history.

"The three of you really can't keep secrets from each other," Spike sighed. "Knew she'd let it slip to one of you sooner or later."

Xander flopped back down to the bed, his hands under his head, and this time Spike settled next to him, leaning on his side. When Spike's hand slipped under his shirt, stoking his stomach, Xander just stared up.

"Still freaking," he eventually offered. Spike's hand paused and then kept rubbing.

"You even wonder why Willow's still on the straight and narrow?" Spike asked. "Or why those lot at Alcoholics Anonymous put so much emphasis on God?" Spike waited, and when Xander didn't answer, he continued. "Willow took her shot at ending the world, and you and Giles stopped her. Every time she tried fallin' off the wagon, Rupes was there to hold her feet to the fire. Those alcoholics… they need to believe God's watching them all the time, ready to slap their hands with a ruler the minute they fall off the wagon. Children don't misbehave if the headmaster is there with the paddle, and power doesn't corrupt if there's someone big enough and bad enough standing there to stop it."

Xander thought about that for a second. "Okay, that officially doesn't make sense," he finally announced. "If someone is there with more power to control the person with absolute power, then the person with absolute power doesn't have so much absolute with that power, and the one doing the controlling would be the corruptaboy."

"Bloody hell, I've been hanging out with you lot too long because I actually followed that," Spike huffed. "But not everyone is corruptible, pet. Dru, she had the power to end the world a half-dozen times, and she just couldn't be bothered with it."

"Um, Spike," Xander said with a poke to Spike's stomach. "The Judge. Acathla. Ringing any bells?"

"Yeah, but that was to get Angelus' attention. She didn't give a rat's arse about ending the world." Spike sighed and then sat up. "The demon comes to the body not really knowin' the world, so it takes the human's fears and desires and builds its own twisted personality around that. It's why other demons hate vamps… we don't just use human bodies for procreation, which plenty of demons do, our personalities are formed from the human mind. As a human, Dru always wanted to be a good girl and do the right thing, so the demon turned that into a need to impress Peaches and do right according to his bollocked up views on the world."

"Okay, this conversation has slipped a couple of feet to the left, and I don't think I kept up. You want to explain how we got from point A to point B because I'm clueless boy here." Xander sat up next to Spike.

"I had the chance, pet," Spike said softly.

"Chance to do what?"

Spike snorted and stood up. "Had the chance at absolute power. Had the chance to take Buffy's life without her even knowing what happened. Had the chance to get the chip out and come back more powerful than ever."

"The demon trials," Xander breathed. Spike turned to look at him.

"Yeah, pet, the demon trials. But demon learned from William. He learned from William's loyalty and from his fear of rejection. It wasn't power that I asked for."

"You asked for your soul."

Spike laughed. "Bloody stupid request that was." He stood up and walked to the window where the rain softly pattered against the glass. "William could have said no and left me with a big nothing for all that sacrifice."

"Wait. What? I thought you asked for your soul, and so you got the soul, and what do you mean William could have said no?"

"Pet, the soul earns its afterlife, a demon can't come and take that away. William, the soul, chose to come back and try and make me a better man. If he'd known what kind of memories I had, of the orphanage Dru and me raided, of the people I'd tortured, well, he might have thought twice about that decision. But we've—I've come to terms with that." Spike stared out into the dark, and Xander let his Shamanic vision creep into the edge of reality. Spike's demon, a dark cord stained with burgundy and midnight twisted around the soul's cord like DNA, their curves mirroring each other. Spike's soul wasn't the tangle of threads clinging to the demon that Xander had seen in Angel.

Xander stood and walked to Spike, standing just behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist, leaning into that strength. "Still not to point B with you," Xander said softly as he held Spike. He could feel Spike sigh.

"Had the chance at power, and I didn't take it. The soul, William, never wanted power, and the demon never learned to crave it. It's why I stayed with Darla until she tried stakin' me. It's why I put up with the Anointed One until he just bloody annoyed me into killing him."

Spike twisted around, but Xander didn't let go, so now the stood just about nose to nose. Spike reached up and cradled the back of Xander's head, pulling him in for a deep kiss, and Xander surrendered to it. By the time Spike pulled back, Xander was breathless and horny.

"Whose are you, pet?" Spike asked, and suddenly, Xander was right there at point B.

"Yours," he said softly, letting the fear fall from him. Spike reached around and grabbed his wrists, forcing his hands away.

"Ya don't have the power to take me, do you?" Spike asked.

"If I ever took you in a fight, check for flying pigs and open Hellmouths," Xander agreed. Spike pushed him back toward the bed, and for a second, Xander fought it, struggling to remain by the window. He might as well have gotten in a fist fight with a brick wall for all the good it did him. Spike pushed him back until his knees hit the bed and they both tumbled to the mattress, Spike on top.

"Why won't ya abuse this power?" Spike asked seriously.

"Because you'd kick my ass," Xander answered, and that should not be a turn on, but maybe his cock just liked the way Spike undulated slowly, pressing their bodies together. Xander groaned.

"I don't know about kicking your ass, but I'd sure as hell chain ya to the bed until you learned some manners." Spike smiled as he tightened his hold on Xander's wrists.

"Fuck. That's not really working to discourage me from the dark side, there, Obi Wan," Xander breathed heavily as he squirmed up into Spike's body, desperate for more contact.

"Oh, found a new kink, have we?"

"My kink is sex, Spike, any time, any where." Xander thrust up with his hips, pushing Spike into the air, but not really doing much except putting more pressure on his cock. It was like a delicious slow torture… like the tamales back home that made him cry and his mouth burn but he just kept eating them because they were too damn good.

"Randy bugger," Spike whispered into Xander's neck before he sucked at a bit of skin. Xander bucked and gasped.

"Fuck. Spike. Fucking do something," Xander pleaded.

"I am," Spike muttered before going back to the Xander torture. He ran dull teeth over Xander's neck and shoulder, and hot shivers made Xander tremble. But no matter how he pulled, he couldn't free his hands. Spike slowly worked his way around, sucking at a collarbone before moving over and nipping at the other side of Xander's neck.

Xander pressed his head back into the pillow arching his neck out as he made vague, grumbly complaints. Spike bit down a little harder, and Xander cried out. Then the weight was gone.

Xander blinked up like a drunk man, not really able to engage the brain as Spike stood beside the bed.

"Trust me, pet?" he asked.

"I think we covered this already," Xander said as he reached down to his jeans, tugging at the zipper. Cool hands closed around his, stilling him.

"Do you trust me?" Spike asked more seriously, and Xander looked up at Spike's earnest face.

"Yeah," he said slowly, wondering what he was agreeing to by saying it.

"Shirt off," Spike said. "It's one of the few that doesn't make my eyes bleed, and I don't want it getting ruined."

"Your idea of romance could use some work," Xander snorted, but he shimmied out of his shirt as fast as he could. "Not that I need romance. Still a guy here, so any promise of sex works for me."

"So, you're the easy sort, are you?" Spike asked, and there was that smirk that Xander found irresistible.

"Oh yeah." Xander watched Spike pull the belt off. "Okay, Spike, a little spanking is fun, but a belt is not my idea of kinky goodness," Xander said cautiously.

"Didn't think it would be," Spike said as he moved closer, the belt in hand. Xander scooted back on the bed, but then Spike pounced, landing on Xander and pressing him back into the mattress. Prey instincts took over as Xander tried to roll and escape, but Spike's knees clamped around his waist, holding him still. Spike grabbed one hand and Xander tried to rip it out of Spike's grip. Didn't work.

Reaching up, Xander grabbed the headboard, trying to pull himself free. He managed to pull himself farther up the mattress, but Spike just rode him up. Then Spike forced Xander's second hand above his head, and Xander's brain started working well enough for him to figure out the game.

Sagging under Spike's weight, he didn't fight as Spike put his hands through the headboard and then looped the belt around them several times, fastening it so that Xander was tied to the headboard.

"Coulda warned a guy," Xander said as Spike scooted back and slid off the bed.

"Wanted ya to be able to fight," Spike shrugged. "Doesn't matter how much power you're carrying in that skin because it's all mine, pet."

Xander yanked at his hands, but the belt wouldn't give. Now his cock complained even more, and Xander could see the thick bulge in his jeans. "Spike, please," he whimpered.

"Ya need to learn that I'm strong enough to hold ya even if that power does try to turn my white knight gray," Spike whispered as he reached over and unfastened Xander's jeans. The release of the pressure made Xander breath a sigh of relief, but he almost immediately regretted it because now his cock lay ignored, peaking out from his briefs and Xander couldn't do anything except wiggle and pray that Spike would hurry up as he wandered around Xander's room.

"Ya look good like that, pet. I like seein' ya all hard and aching for me," Spike commented as he opened a box on the top of Xander's drawer and poked through the various washers and screws that Xander had collected while fixing the manor.

"Spike, not funny," he groaned.

"I'm not trying for funny," Spike agreed as he closed the box and started unbuttoning his shirt. Xander closed his eye and pressed his head back into the pillow as he pulled at his wrists.

"Goin' to bruise yourself."

"So get over here and distract me. I thought power wasn't your thing," Xander said as he lifted his head and glared as Spike let his shirt slowly slide off his shoulders and then slither to the floor.

Spike pursed his lips. "It isn't. But you need to know you aren't going to turn on your mates, and I can give you that."

"Right now, the only thing I'm worrying about is you coming over here before my cock falls off." Xander thrust his hips up to emphasize his need. Spike walked over and started untying Xander's sneaker.

"I doubt anythin' will fall off, but you do look like you're enjoying yourself." Spike pulled off one sneaker and then took a second to run a fingernail over the cotton of Xander's briefs. Xander choked, his body momentarily forgetting how to breathe. By the time he regained the ability to form thoughts, Spike had pulled off his second shoe and his socks.

"Lesson learned, now time for the reward, right?" he asked desperately. Spike laughed as he grabbed the cuff of the jeans and started pulling. The pants came off, and then Xander lay there in his briefs as Spike circled the bed, pacing around it and looking at Xander like the last chocolate in the world, which made Xander's cock even harder.

"All mine," Spike whispered as he knelt on the bed and crawled up Xander's body. Xander held his breath as Spike smirked down at him.

"Oh yeah," he finally agreed. Spike reward him with a commanding kiss that left Xander thrusting up into the air.

"Needy little thing, aren't you?" Spike asked, and Xander blushed. He was. Anya had reminded him of that often enough. "I like that," Spike hurried to say, and then Spike lowered himself so that he rested on top of Xander. Xander gasped and thrust as Spike provided the heavenly pressure against his cock. "I like knowing that you need me to get what you want. I like knowing that ya need me to help with your powers. I like that you need me to keep your friends safe if you decide to listen to Darth Vader waxing poetic," Spike whispered into Xander's ear, and then two fangs bit into Xander's shoulder.

Xander screamed, his whole body stiffening in a desperate need to come. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," he swore as he gasped for air. The sucking at his neck made his whole body feverish and shivery, and when Spike's hand reached inside Xander's briefs, brushing the sensitive head, Xander came in a hot rush.

"Xander," yelled a desperate voice. "Oh Goddess! Xander!" Xander was still floating in the muffled post-coital haze when the heat flashed over his body.

His eye snapped open, and he found white-haired Willow in the doorway, a magical wind blowing her hair and a ball of energy balanced between her hands.

"Will!" he yelped as he yanked at his bound hands.

Chapter 6

"Bloody buggering hell," Spike snarled as he bounced back up to his feet on the far side of the bed, game face in place. Willow threw the energy ball, and Spike threw himself back to the floor just as it skimmed over Xander's bare chest with another heat wave.

"Will! NO!" Xander yelled desperately, and then Buffy was there, pulling on Willow so that the third energy ball flew into the wall and fried Xander's Seven of Nine poster and a good chunk of wall. Maybe Xander would get that second window he wanted after all he thought with more than a little hysteria as damp air trickled in through the cracked brick.

"He bit Xander!" Willow protested, but at least wisps of red now tinted her white hair.

"Knocking! Knocking good. Getting out better!" Xander shrieked as he struggled against the belt.

"Daft buggerin' bint!" Spike leaped up again, but this time, Willow didn't do the fireball thing again.
"Biting! Biting and screaming!" Willow protested as Buffy pulled her back, her hair now totally red, which Xander could only pray meant the end of the giant fireballs.

"Okay, as the person with the room next to you and Kennedy, I know you know all about screaming, and probably biting, too," Buffy said as she herded Willow out, and now Willow's face was as red as her hair.

"But he screamed," Willow stammered as her eyes darted to Xander and then off to the wall. Xander could feel his balls shrivel up and try to shrink up into space normally reserved for intestines. "There was screaming."

"Boy's just appreciating my talent," Spike snarled as he grabbed the bedspread and flung it over Xander. And really, that was good, but not as good as someone untying him. Xander strained until the leather belt creaked, but nothing loosened, and Spike was obviously ignoring the not so subtle plea.

"Officially not helping," Buffy told Spike through tight lips.

"Don't remember anyone askin' for help or askin' you two to come barging in here, either, for that matter." Spike snatched his fallen shirt from the floor and shoved his arms into it.

"He screamed," Willow said again, but now she stared at the floor and inched backwards.

"Well, yeah," Spike agreed with a very self-satisfied tone.

"Spike, knock it off," Buffy said, and then she took Willow by the shoulders and pointed her out of the room. Xander expected the untying to come now, but Spike just stalked out after them.

"You'll get an even bigger eyeful if ya don't learn to bloody knock," Spike threatened from the hall, and Xander finally gave up and sagged back into the mattress. He wasn't freeing himself.

"Screaming," Willow declared defensively. "Screaming and tying and oh my god, you left Xander in there still tied up, and I am going to have to bleach my brain now. Bad thoughts. Bad, bad thoughts, and bad, bad vampire. Go untie Xander." Oh yeah, Willow was handling this about as well as Xander had expected.

The hallway fell silent, and Xander could just imagine the cold glare. Either that or someone was either bleeding out and/or floating to the carpet as little bits of ash, but he assumed that death would be at least a little noisier. Hopefully.

"Boy's mine. I'll untie him when I'm done, and I'm not bloody done. I'm just makin' sure we're not going to get interrupted again."

"No, no there will be no interruptus with the coitus," Buffy quickly agreed. "Will there?" she demanded firmly.

"Screaming. Screaming and tying," Willow whispered so softly that Xander almost missed it.

"If ya can't figure that one out, ask the slayer. She knows her bondage," Spike suggested nastily, and even Xander could hear that gasp. Yep, Willow could nearly end the world, but discussion of bondage was clearly outside her comfort zone.

"Hey!" Buffy snapped. "Besides, I don't remember that I was ever the one tied to the bed."

Okay, officially more than Xander ever wanted to know on that particular topic.

"You didn't complain, pet. You were happy enough to ride me hard and put me up wet and aching." And a Buffy gasp followed that one, but Willow interrupted before Buffy had a chance to say anything.

"No. No nonono. Some demon must have cursed all of us because this is... this is just not okay," Willow said, her voice fading. And Willow had obviously fled down the stairs. Xander gave a tug on the belt and wondered if now would be the time to remind Spike that he was still tied up.

The hall was silent. Xander strained to hear anything, wishing he had Jim's whole superhearing thing going on, but he only heard the gentle rain against the window.

"That could have gone better," Buffy finally said.

"Dunno. Everyone's still alive, so I'm puttin' it in the win column."

"Willow is not going to kill you guys," Buffy snorted dismissively, and then she made that little sucking noise that meant she had thought better of something. "Okay, she might in the whole heat of the moment kinda way, but she would feel really, really bad about it later."

"She bloody well almost had somethin' to feel bad about back there. Lost the hair on my bloody arm." The words might have been angry, but the tone was just more tired than anything else. Something thudded against the wall, either Buffy or Spike leaning heavily into it, and Xander squirmed a little at his uselessness. He would call out, but the only thing worse than lying helpless would be asking to be let go and still getting left to lie helpless, so he bit his tongue.

"She's just... freaking," Buffy agreed. "And I'm trying hard not to freak, but I'll admit to some minor wattage freak."

"Not so strange, him and me," Spike defended himself, and Xander silently added a "yeah" from inside the room.

"Um, kinda is. Big strange. Humongo strange. Kinda the T-Rex of strange. Big, huge, stomping, eating-of-my-brain strange, Spike."

Spike snorted, and Xander could feel himself blush. He'd cover his ears to avoid this, but not really an option. Silently endure or call for help that might or might not come until after Spike and Buffy had the big convo. Xander voted for suffering in silence.

"I mean, you always went for the type who..." Buffy stopped and the hall went silent for a moment. "He's just not exactly your type, and while the demon thing seems to work for him, I've never seen him go for the male thing. Not condemning," Buffy hurried to say, "I'm totally okay with him doing the male thing and after his comments about Angel and Riley and even you, not even particularly surprised, but... okay, I've lost my point. I'm officially pointless, but I guess I'm just saying... Wow. You two. Didn't see that coming."

"I'm not playin' with the boy. He's as much my type as Dru or you."

"Okay, I'm having trouble seeing that. And I know you wouldn't intentionally hurt him, but I'm worried about the whole unintentional thing we sometimes get going, like I did with Riley. And come on, it's a pretty big switch going from me to him."

"Not so much," Spike disagreed immediately, and Xander twisted. Buffy was big with making the points, and he wasn't sure he wanted to hear these points because they fed this little voice in the back of his head that whispered doubts about him and Spike.

Spike continued softly. "He needs me. I've always admitted to being love's bitch, to needing to be needed. And you don't need me any more, do you?" Spike asked.

"Hey! I'm big with the needing. I couldn't keep this place together without you, Spike. I've told you that." Buffy's suddenly sounded hurt and small.

"Yeah, you need me for this place, alright. Bloody slayers would fall apart in six months if they didn't have someone to kick their arses into shape," Spike agreed, "but *you* don't need me." Deep Spike sigh when Buffy didn't answer. "You don't need me to make you feel alive. You don't need me to stand by your side, any more. You don't even need me to be the one to understand the way you have to turn off your emotions when you watch girl after girl die. Those days are past, and you've healed. Don't need old Spike, do you?"

"Spike," Buffy said softly. Xander squirmed, feeling like he really had no right to hear this stuff.

"No!" Spike cut her off. "Don't bloody need you either," Spike's accent was suddenly thick and his voice rough. "But the boy does need me. Came back from Africa without all his marbles, didn't he? And no matter how much you and Red try to be his friend, it's not helping any."

"Hey, Xander has plenty of marbles," Buffy defended him.

"Then why send him off to Cascade?" Spike demanded. "Why send a slayer to follow him every time he walks out the door? Why ban him from patrol?" Buffy didn't have an answer for that. Spike sighed so heavily that Xander could hear it in the room. "Go home, Buffy. Go to Cleveland and find some poor wanker trying to open a Hellmouth. Go into London and find some nest. Just leave me and the boy alone," Spike ordered, and then he was there in the door to the room, framed by the light from the hall.

He closed the door slowly, and Xander locked gazes with him.

"Hey," Xander offered, the universal word for 'what the hell else am I supposed to say'.

"Hey," Spike answered as he crossed to the bed, sitting on the edge as he reached out and traced Xander's cheekbone with a thumb.

"Um, want to untie me?" Xander asked with an experimental tug.

"No." Spike continued to stroke Xander's face, his fingers trailing down to his neck, and Xander tilted his head back, closing his eye as the gentle strokes moved down to his collarbone. When Spike slipped a hand under the bedspread and brushed his nipple; Xander shivered. The feeling wasn't exactly lust... although it was certainly connected to his lust-bone... but it was softer, slower. The rising need was the ocean pulled by the moon instead of the storm of desire and completion Xander normally felt. Then again, Xander had never before messed around after coming. He moaned.

"Kept you from gettin' in the middle, didn't it?"

"What?" Xander asked, most of his brain sinking into a peaceful fog of post-sex, post-stress petting.

"Being tied up, it kept you from riding to Willow's rescue."

"I was more worried about Spike's rescue from flaming fireballs," Xander said wryly. He regretfully pulled himself out of his stupor and looked up at Spike.

"Oi, can take care of myself. But the minute the witch blushed you would have been all reassurin' her that we didn't mean anything by it."

"I wouldn't... okay, I might have, but that's what nice people do," Xander admitted. Spike rolled his eyes.

"Good thing I'm not nice, innit?"

"Hey, you're nice. You saved the world, about two or three times, and then you went and died being the big champion guy, and you have saved my ass more times than I can count because I was never very good in math, and that number would require calculus to figure out."

"I am pretty soddin' wonderful, aren't I?" Spike waggled his eyebrows. "But I'm not nice the way you're defining it. I won't forgive her for bargin' in here like she's goin' to save you from me. You're mine, and she'll learn to live with it."

"Or not," Xander said quietly.

Spike narrowed his eyes and glared down. "There's no 'not' possible, pet. You're mine. I've staked my claim." Spike stood up and walked to the shelf where the CD player sat under a pile of flyers for decking material. He brushed the paper to the floor and plucked a CD out of the middle of the pile. Tony Bennett. Xander remembered when Anya had picked that out, telling this whole story about a wife who listened to Boulevard of Broken Dreams over and over until Anyanka had granted her wish to turn her husband into goldfish she could keep by her bed.

The music started, and Spike slowly swayed. In the hall, Spike had buttoned the shirt, and now he freed the lowest button. A small triangle of skin appeared and vanished as Spike slowly undulated. Shifting around, Xander rested his cheek on one bound arm so he could watch the show. Okay, of all the things he expected, Spike doing the naughty dance hadn't even entered his mind, and yet there he was, turning his back as he leaned over and unlaced his boots.

With a wiggle, Spike stepped out of his boots and then turned to face Xander, his lips raised in a knowing smirk.

"See somethin' ya want?" he asked as he did a quick step with a hip thrust like the dancers on TV.

"Mmmm," Xander agreed. Spike smiled and slipped two more buttons free and his fingers now brushed over pale skin as Spike slowly stalked forward, half dance and half predatory stalk. Spike reached the bed as the last button popped open, and he let the shirt slither over his shoulders and fall to the floor.

"Lookie what someone's left for me, a prezzie all tied up with a bow... or a belt in this case," Spike shrugged as he rolled his hips and flicked open the first button on his jeans. Xander fisted his hands and arched his back as his cock sluggishly started making plans for a repeat performance.

Spike trailed his fingers over the top of the bedspread, and the lack of contact was exquisite torture. From the smirk on Spike's face, he knew exactly what he was doing as he backed away and opened another button on his jeans.

If Xander hadn't already come, he would have been pleading by now, but instead he felt a slow surge of lust as Spike's first curled hairs appeared.

"Gonna make you beg for it, boy," Spike threatened as he shimmied out of his jeans.

"Oh yeah, like I haven't done that before. Not really hard to get me to beg," Xander pointed out breathily as Spike crept forward like a leopard on the hunt. "So not hard," he repeated when Spike twisted his hips.

"Just easy, huh?" Spike teased as he crawled onto the bed, his knees on either side of Xander. The pressure pulled the bedspread taut against his chest, pressing him into the mattress, and the additional bonds pushed Xander over the edge between warm, fuzzy, comfortable desire and burning, clawing need.

"Easy. Yep, I can do easy," Xander agreed as he squirmed in his bedspread prison. Spike reached out and grabbed Xander's chin, stilling him.

"You're mine, pet. You know it, your body knows it, and the others have to bloody well learn," Spike said seriously, and Xander blinked up, seeing the demon's desperate need to not let others take what was his.

"Got it," Xander agreed. Spike held his chin for a second, and then Spike smiled lazily and started tugging at the edge of the bedspread, revealing Xander's side before he crawled under the covers.

Xander opened his mouth in a silent plea as their bodies pressed together. Maddeningly slowly, Spike's fingers trailed down Xander's side and then paused at the waistband of Xander's underwear.

"Oh god," Xander managed as he twisted.

"What's the magic word, pet?" Spike teased, and he pressed closer, half laying on Xander and trapping him in place even as Xander tried to squirm.

Xander's brain struggled to hijack enough blood from the cock to figure out the riddle. "Please," he finally offered.

"Not good enough. I want begging," Spike whispered in Xander's ear.

"Fuck," Xander swore as Spike ran a fingernail over the fabric, teasing his cock and then vanishing. "Please, Spike. Please just, whatever."

"Whatever? That's a wide open field, pet," Spike warned. Xander tilted his head and Spike was looking at him seriously, propped on one elbow.

"Whatever, Spike. Please, I'm begging." Xander said each word slowly, an offering laid between them. With a blink, Spike's demon surged forward, and Xander tilted his head away, exposing his neck.

"Please," he begged again softly. Xander gasped as a hand tore at his underwear, making the fabric dig into his legs before it mercifully ripped away. Closing his eye, Xander surrendered. He lay trembling in need as Spike quickly prepared him and then pushed in past muscles barely stretched, his mind sinking into a place where even his own aching hardness didn't matter as much as the hands that manipulated him or the yellow eyes that devoured him.

Sharp fangs slid into his shoulder, and Xander bucked as his shoulder mimicked his hard cock; the same aching need for more erased everything from existence except Spike. A hand brushed over the damp head of his cock, and Xander came in hard waves that crashed through him leaving him trembling and gasping.

"Love ya, pet," Spike whispered after he laved the bite closed.

"Need you," Xander answered sleepily as his whole body sagged into post-sex sluggishness. He felt Spike untie his hands, and he just lay still as Spike arranged him before curling around him. Warm, sated, and held… it was more than Xander needed, it was all he wanted.

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