The elevator opened on the first floor of the Wolfram and Hart offices. Wesley pushed his way out from the back of the carriage where he’d been resting; fingers curling around the open doorway so as to lever himself out into the hallway. None of the half dozen employees buzzing around him actually came to his aid, which was typical.

Then of course there was Spike. Oh yes, Spike. How could he forget?    

“Was it really necessary for you to antagonise that Chupacabra further? We had him cornered, he wasn’t going anywhere.”

Wesley was more than a little pissed, he was downright livid. A nomadic creature, virtually never seen, let alone living in suburbia. A demon under their protection and what does that imbecile do...?

“Hey Mate, that bloke was disgusting. I mean not even in my bloody heyday did I attempt anything as filthy as that bugger was doing.”

Wesley sighed painfully, favouring his left leg as he glared at the insufferable blonde merrily striding along beside him.

He didn’t have a clue and Wesley knew it would be daft to try to explain even the simplest of protocols to the likes of Spike.   

All Wesley desired was to be left alone; the vampire was far too chipper in view of the circumstances and would be beyond intolerable once imprisoned in the same room as him. No, he refused to be lured into Angel’s office on false pretences, just to stand in the corner and watch those two bicker like pubescent school children.

“Wes, could I see you in my office for a moment?”

He closed his eyes, almost laughing at the predictability. Wesley had known it was coming. The innocent question was nothing more than a command from their mighty leader. Truth be told Angel needed him in that room for only one reason, as someone to distract him so he didn’t just stake Spike for the sheer hell of it. Heaven knows, he had wanted to do just that for as long as he could remember.

“Angel, I really think I should get this wound seen to, the Chupacabra tribe has been known to dally in poisons to combat the enemy. I should check, make sure...”

Oh lord, he was really talking out of his arse now. Here’s hoping the big guy was his usual dim-witted self and bought his minor exaggeration. 

Wesley dared to glance at Angel a moment later, just to see.

It had been a monumentally bad move. Damn the man for being a centuries old vampire with penchant for thorough research, such as himself.  

With his head bent in sublimation Wesley followed Angel into the suite. Spike was already making himself at home in the boss’s plush leather chair. Feet propped up on the table; Angel’s carefully sorted notes fluttering to the floor in the blonde’s wake.

Oh joy, here it comes...

“Spike, get your damn boots off my desk!”

Spike stretched, placing his hands behind his head as he slinked deeper into the recesses of Angel’s beloved chair. He smirked, raised an eyebrow and waited.

It was always the same shtick, brooding vampire closing in ten paces and counting, while a cocky blonde vamp remained seated amused as hell.

Wesley found that he flinched even before the first blow found its target, except it didn’t land anywhere near him this time.  

No, the canny bastard managed to push off from the desk at the last possible moment, sailing across the polished floor, caster’s burning rubber but blissfully out of Angel’s reach.

Of course, Spike does the wretchedly foolish thing. He laughed his arse off at making his sire look the fool.

Instead of fangs dropping, furniture being turned into nothing more than toothpicks, Angel turned towards Wesley and effectively ignored the chuckling blonde completely.

Oh, this was new.

Manoeuvring the ex-watcher into a matching leather couch, Angel made a show out of examining the nasty gash on Wesley’s thigh.

Wesley shrinked at the cool touch of fingers probing his skin, its not like Angel truly gives a damn. No, it is just another show, another pathetic game. He tried not to react as his boss all but feels him up, in his attempt to annoy the other souled vampire in their midst.

Fuck!

Spike dares to hover over his sire’s right shoulder, while Angel smugly dresses Wesley’s injury. He presses the clean white bandage firmly against his warm skin, while Wes clenches his teeth, glaring down at that bent head.

Bastard!

Oh boy. Does he ever want to smack that knowing grin right off the vampire’s handsome face? That dusky sweep of lashes against those pale cheeks, as if he was the one submitting. Wesley cursed, wrenching his eyes from the delectable sight and raising them to glare at Spike instead.

Spike snorted, shaking his head and crossing his arms. The soft creak of the leather duster turned out to be the perfect distraction and it had the desired effect Wes was hoping for. Angel backed off and turned toward Spike. Wes quietly slid to his feet and as Angel made to attack the blonde, Wes managed to slip out of the room unnoticed.

The soft click of the door closing signalled Wesley’s escape. Angel halted in his assault, spinned on his heel, but of course, he’s too late. Growling menacingly, he backed Spike against the necro-tempered glass window.

“Blimey, you really are dense and here I thought it was a flamin act.” Spike laughed despite the fact that his face was being forced painfully into the glass. “He’s on to you mate!” Spike rolled his eyes as Angel finally released him, shoving him across the room.

That same predictable fury was stamped on every inch of Angel’s body, right down to the rigid jaw line that never failed to amuse Spike.     

“Get out!” Angel roared, he was so close to snapping and tossing his grand-childe through the window right now, he wanted the boy as far away as possible.

Spike held up his hands in mock surrender. “Right, okay then. I’ll be leaving.”

“You do that,” he ground out.

Not even waiting for Spike to leave, Angel retrieved his chair and returned it to its rightful place. Squatting, he picked up the scattered papers, combing through them with his fingers to make sure they were in order, before placing them back in a neat pile on his desk.

Angel could sense Spike’s absence without turning. The taut line of his frame relaxed considerably and he slunk back into the couch, which just happened to be the very spot Wesley had recently vacated. He wasn’t sure if he was merely imagining the barest traces of warmth still trapped in the leather but the thought comforted him nonetheless.

Wesley.

He had no means of how to deal if what Spike was saying was true. If Wes even had an inkling of how he felt, then surely he would have spoken to him about it. He would definitely have confronted him, told him that nothing would ever come of them. He wasn’t needed, never like that. For the first time in a helluva long while, Angel actually felt the mind numbing panic that festered inside and made his stomach roil. If he lost Wesley because of this, there would be no second chances.

“Oi Wes? Wait up mate? Oh come on, it’s not that bad?”

Wesley sighed. He really didn’t want to deal with this right now. Ignoring Spike, he continued to hobble towards his office. A scuffle behind him though made him turn just before entering.

He watched as if the whole incident had been played out in slow motion. Spike fell to his knees there in the corridor, arms wrapped around his head in what looked like agony.

“Sodding hell!” Spike screamed trying to get to his feet, except he suddenly lacked the strength.  He weaved dangerously on his feet, eventually sinking to the floor once more. “Ruddy Nora!” he gasped, teeth grinding at the invisible knife slicing through every cell of his body.

Wesley forgot about his bandaged leg as he shoved a plethora of useless staff out of his way to get to the stricken vampire.

“Spike?” Wesley blurted out, his previous anger forgotten as he knelt in front of the man.

The blonde moaned, his nails scrabbling desperately over his head, like he was trying to claw at whatever had slithered in there. Spike’s eyes searched Wesley’s and he could see the vampire was terrified, a deep paralyzing fear that was painfully reflected in his own eyes. Wesley tried not to panic, but the haunted expression melted through any previous armour he had thrown up to fight demons. It was as if he was somewhere else and witnessing first hand horrors infinitely, more damaging then Wesley could ever have dredged up from hell. Just when Wesley thought he could stand to look in those eyes no longer, Spike’s rolled back in his head and he slumped to the side and became frighteningly quiet.

“Help Me,” gurgled out from his abused throat so abruptly minutes later, Wes gasped. Spike had been silent for so long. His body arched violently, as if struck by volts of electricity. Pitching backwards, Spike writhed on the carpeted hallway, his arms jerking, lashing out at anyone near him. He appeared to be having a seizure. Eventually the spasms ceased until he passed out altogether.

Angel was at Wesley’s side by the time he gathered the unconscious vampire into his arms.

“We have to hurry,” he whispered urgently, transferring the blonde’s unresponsive body into Angel’s waiting arms. Wesley led the way to the hospital wing, while Angel made sure not to jostle his grand-childe.

“What the hell happened?” Angel glowered at anyone who dared look at him.

Wesley hadn’t taken his eyes off the blonde vampire swathed in white sheets and still unconscious in the medical ward. His arms and feet were strapped to the bed as he lay perfectly still in an induced sleep. His catnap was a heavily medicated one, as he had attempted to kill anyone that got near enough to examine him.

“I don’t know,” Wesley frowned.

Lorne kept his distance, preferring to stand close to the exit, just in case Spike became alarmingly lucid again.

“I was just about to enter my office, when I heard a commotion behind me. Turned around and he dropped to the floor screaming.” Wesley narrowed his eyes and glared at the other vamp. “I left him alone with you. What did you do to him, Angel?”

Angel growled at the insinuation. “Nothing, I hardly touched him.”

Wesley looked doubtful.

Illyria had tilted her head up, turning her head this way and that, as if examining the eccentricities of the ceiling tile and finding it worthy of further investigation.

“Perhaps the half-breed has misplaced a part of him,” she indicated the softly glowing mass floating over the ceiling.

All of them looked up and leapt back in shock; none of them had noticed the entity until she had pointed it out.

“Whoa daddy, well that’s a giant clue kiddie’s, if I ever saw one,” Lorne squeaked backing up until he stood in the doorway.

“Wes?”

He couldn’t quite drag his eyes from the thing squirming on the ceiling. “I don’t know Angel, possibly a demon of some sort. A phantasm, ectoplasm...I have no idea.”

Illyria marched in between the two, Wesley instantly stepped back as she grabbed Angel by the throat, holding him above her with one arm while with her other hand she reached into his chest and ripped out an identical grey mass.

Angel jerked uncontrollably in her fist, thrashing in utter agony.

“You prize such a useless thing; you value its hold on your being. Ruled by compassion, no wonder you are nothing but fodder, the slime that covers my boots,” she ranted, her vibrant blue eyes piercing him.

Angel screamed as he writhed helplessly. Wesley inched forward beseechingly. “Please, Illyria let him go.”

“Why? What is the reason that compels you?”

“He’s our leader, we need him as he is, whole,” Wesley pleaded. His heart constricted painfully in his chest, he couldn’t stand Angel being hurt and all of them were powerless to save him.

Illyria seemed to accept his answer, nodding she returned Angel’s soul, letting the vampire’s exhausted body slump to the tiled floor. Wesley immediately dropped at his side.

“Angel, are you okay?”

The vampire shook his head to clear it. “He was so close, too damn close,” Angel looked Wes in the eye. The ex-watcher understood he meant Angelus. Illyria was so unpredictable; both knew they needed to work on defusing her somehow, but Spike was their priority at the moment.

“So, that’s his soul then?”      

Wesley’s brow furrowed, his eyes trained on Angel as the vampire winced getting up off the floor. Wes would have liked to assist him, except Angel would of course refuse his consent.

“It appears so, explains his violent behaviour, but not how his soul was forced out in the first place. I’ll need...”

“What exactly does this all mean?” Angel raged at him.

Wesley was instantly annoyed. Was he to be blamed for Illyria’s doing, for Spike being tied to a bed? How dare he scream at him? “How the hell should I know? Without research, I’m going on speculation alone here. For the moment he’s back to being William the bloody, I’m sure you’re quite capable of dealing with him until this is sorted?”

Angel paced the length of the room while Wes continued to frown and watch him restlessly. He should leave, consult the archives. Staying in Angel’s presence wasn’t helping anyone.

“Well? What are you all still doing here?” Angel snarled, barely deviating from his path.

Lorne scampered off without further ado. Illyria had already lost interest and was god knows where by now. Wesley couldn’t leave, not quite yet.

“Angel?”

“Yeah?” he snapped.

“This is bad whatever the reason. Are you sure...”

Angel gritted out, “I’m sure.”

Wesley nodded his head, teeth worrying the inside of his cheek as eyes skimmed over Spike’s prone form.

“I’ll be in my office,” Wesley finally replied, turning his back on both vampires. Unfortunately, he didn’t even register the tearing of cloth or the displacement of the air until it was too late.

Strong fingers curled around his neck, jerking him sharply to the side as fangs pierced his throat. The scream died on his lips as the pain was ripped just as suddenly away from him again. Wesley rolled his head on his shoulders just in time to see Angel slam Spike into the wall and pin his arms there.

Spike was grinning hungrily at Wesley; blood tainted his lips, his teeth were saturated in blood. His blood, oh my god. Spike had bitten him. Wes’s eyes went wide, just before he collapsed on the floor from the loss.

Angel released Spike immediately and flew to the ex-watchers side, cradling Wesley’s head in the crook of his arm.

“Wes?” Angel whispered desperately, thankful when he heard the steady beating of his heart.

A foot slammed into the side of his head, shattering several of his bones in the process. He whipped around clutching at his neck but Spike had already fled. Goddamn it.

Xander lifted his eye patch discreetly to scratch at his empty socket. He was nervous, here in the belly of the beast so to speak. He had been summoned to L.A for the reading of his parents will nonetheless.

Three weeks ago he’d been in Tanzania rounding up slayers, training them with the help of a small army of translators and a handful of Sunnydale’s own surviving slayers. He’d been happy though, far happier then he’d been in a good while.

Not that living in California had been any kind of preparation for the culture shock of central Africa. He found the people friendly and although he struggled with the language, he was enjoying his new life. He’d found purpose when he’d been adrift for so long. He hadn’t even known he was missing out, until he was forced to take a good hard look at his life. At first being apart from Willow, Buffy and Giles had been indescribably lonely, like he’d amputated his right arm. In time, he had made lasting relationships on route and even discovered a few surprises about himself along the way.

When Sunnydale had gone to hell in a hand basket, Xander had used what little money he’d managed to save, to get his parents out of there before the showdown began.

Buying a campervan and stocking it with groceries, it hadn’t taken much more than that to get them to leave Sunnydale behind for the open road.

As it turned out they got no further than Vegas, some months later, where his mother in a drunken stupor had wrapped the vehicle around a casino sign, killing herself and his father instantly.

Xander was sorry they were gone, he wasn’t about to break down in tears at their demise, but they were still his parents nonetheless. He wasn’t cold hearted towards them and perhaps he should have been considering the years of neglect he had gone through. He didn’t love them either, they had destroyed any spark of affection he felt for them when they cut him out of their lives after his disastrous wedding to Anya. No, he was just sorry that they wouldn’t be around for his kids, for any future Harris’s. If anything they had taught him to be self-sufficient and resilient and they were personal traits he prized highly. He had their abusive parenting tactics to thank for that, if not for that upbringing he was doubtful he’d have survived growing up in Sunnydale.

The lawyer seated behind his desk was reading through his papers. He’d been doing that for the past twelve minutes, Xander knew, he’d been glancing at his watch that often. He just wanted to get out of there and quickly if possible.

This was Wolfram and Hart. Andrew had mentioned on his last visit that Angel had taken over the Los Angeles offices and he wasn’t sticking around long enough for that reunion.

“Everything seems to be in order, we are convinced of your identity” the man finally spoke.

All Xander could think was, ‘we?’ because the man hadn’t spoken to anyone. Not on the phone and no one else had come in to the office. Yeez, there weren’t cameras in here somewhere? Xander’s eye glanced around the room, nothing that he could see. Then again, maybe the guy had been talking metaphorically, as if ‘we’ just encompassed ‘Wolfram and Hart’. He was really trying not to get nervous with the whole camera idea. Xander wanted no part of any uncomfortable small talk with mister tall and broody any time soon.

“This is the Last Will and Testament of Jessica Philomena Harris and Tony Gerard Harris...”

Xander spaced out. Why was he here? Not like his parents owned anything, not with the house buried at the bottom of a very large crater. Even that would have been mortgaged to the hilt.   

“I, Michael Sambaine the executor...”

This all had happened seven months ago, he’d missed the funeral. They must have had enough aside to cover their burials. Xander knew, he’d visited their graves and almost laughed aloud at the preposterous amount of money spent on their marble obelisk that served as their headstone. What was he doing here for this? It had taken Wolfram and Hart months to track him down. Even then, he hadn’t been interested and now he was here, with no idea why he’d come.

Perhaps he needed the finality of it to sink in. His parents who were never there for him, so why was he here for them now? This was a catastrophe he didn’t need.  They were gone now; they could never make up for their abandonment. Xander grew angry just sitting there like the parody of the dutiful son he clearly wasn’t, like some twisted Hallmark moment as he glared at the edge of the gilded desk and wondered what the hell? He owed these people nothing.

“This concludes said will. Are there any questions Mr Harris?”

The anger slid away as he realised sheepishly that he hadn’t heard a damn thing the man had said.

“Sorry, can you repeat that?”

The lawyer squirmed in his chair; annoyance flickered over his features before returning to his previous blank expression.

“Which part would that be, Mr Harris?”

“Uhh, the last bit. I kinda fazed there,” he figured if his parents had anything to say it would have been in that final sentence.

“I understand. Grief is a deeply personal thing and obviously learning such news about your parentage must be difficult in the least?”

Xander snorted at the pathetically phoney stab at sympathy coming out the lawyer’s mouth. The guy was definitely laying it on thick. He decided it was simpler just to nod in agreement. What a crock this all was, being here at all just seemed so very wrong.

Suddenly his head shot up.

“Hang on; what about my parents?” Xander uttered.

“The truth, that your biological parent’s aren’t the two people who raised you.”

“What?” Xander practically squeaked. “I... I don’t understand.”

“Your mother came here from another dimension; she pleaded for sanctuary from certain death by her own family. The senior partners allowed her asylum under the strictest of provisions. She of course broke these and became pregnant. The father was a young lawyer here at the time. She was sent back after she gave birth to the child, to you. Your father gave you to his sister to raise. She is the one you came to call ‘mom.’ Mrs. Harris and her husband were given permission to leave and settle outside of Los Angeles on the pretext that your true identity would never be discussed until after their deaths, and that brings us to this very moment.”

Xander gaped; his mouth moving except nothing was coming out but a dry rasp. “Oh my god, you have to be kidding me, right? All this flaming time they weren’t even my parents?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

Xander started to snigger. It was not a laugh that even vaguely resembled amusement. This had to be some kind of sick, fucked up joke. He stumbled to his feet to address Mr. Sambaine directly, his head spinning.

“My mother is a demon?”

“Was. I believe she was executed by her family upon her return.”

“What about my father, where is he?”

Michael coughed, embarrassed by what he was about to say. “We’ve not been able to track down his whereabouts.”

“Oh.”

Xander shook his head sharply as if that would clear the constant manic whirring in his head.

“Does this make me, in part...demon?” he had a hard time even saying the word. He’d spent a fair bit of his existence killing demons and now ironically this entire time, he was one.

“Essentially, yes. Are there anymore questions Mr Harris?”

“Are there anymore questions you ask? Are you nuts? I have so many...” Xander paced.

Michael interrupted. “I’m sure you do. I only ask as we feel because of the delicate nature of this situation. That we hand your case over to a colleague who is more suitable to give you all the information that you need.”

Xander found himself nodding although a few minutes ago he’d wanted nothing more than to be out of that office. It was funny how in a matter of seconds your entire life can change with just a few chosen words.

“Wesley Wyndham-Pryce heads up our...”

“No!” Xander slammed his hands down on the desk. Damn Angel for hiring that pathetic English wimp. This was the same guy that had tried to take the place of Giles, ineffectual that he had been. Wesley was a reminder of Faith, of Angel and especially of things he’d tried to escape from. Not to mention that Wesley would instantly recognize him and alert Angel to his presence.

“Honestly, I’d like some time to work through this before talking to Wesley.”

The lawyer narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “How did you know....?” he consulted his papers again. “Ahh... I see, you were friends with the original Slayer, Buffy Summers.”

“Still am,” Xander smirked.

“I see. Then you must know our CEO Mr.Angel?”

“Yes I do,” Xander gazed nervously behind him. “And I’d rather not see him. We aren’t exactly on friendly terms.”

“I will expect that he knows you are here already.”

Xander sighed painfully. “Then I think that I should be going.”

Michael came around his desk and stood in front of Xander.

“I’m afraid that will be impossible.”

“What? Why?” Xander asked incredulously.

“There’re tests that need to be done concerning your demon physiology. We could not in all conscience allow you to walk out of these offices without a thorough examination.”

Xander took a step back away from the man whose stance had abruptly turned from accommodating to the point of nausea to something imminently more threatening.

“That’s not going to happen,” Xander seethed.

“I’m afraid; you have little choice Mr. Harris.”

Xander spun and quickly realized that the room that had once been empty was presently not so. Two bulky looking men now flanked either side of the entrance. Damn it, where had they come from?

A roundhouse kick to the stomach sent lackey numero uno crashing to the floor, another to the throat sent the man permanently out of commission. The second goon was not so easily fooled; understanding that Xander was more of a threat then previously imagined he came at him full-force. Xander went skittering over the desk and crashing to the floor on the opposite side.

Shaking his head to clear it, Xander took possession of a few weapons that lay scattered over Michael’s desk. Said lawyer was cowering in the corner, his fists shaking wildly as he attempted curl himself into a protective ball.

Xander began to fling wickedly sharp pencils at the moron’s head, which he of course was too slow to out manoeuvre. Xander had assessed in a matter of seconds that his opponent was much too strong to fight in hand-to-hand combat, especially now that the element of surprise was gone. Strong he may have been, but fast he wasn’t. Xander threw an avalanche of office equipment at the man, slowly moving so that he eventually drove his adversary back and Xander was able to escape out the now unmanned door.

Xander ran, he vaguely remembered the lifts were somewhere fairly close by, but then remembered catching a glimpse of stairs when he had arrived on the floor and decided they were his best bet of getting out of Wolfram and Hart.

Taking the stairs a few steps at a time he landed in the lobby allowing a grin to come over his face, no one as yet was following along behind him. He frowned and considered that he may just be a little overconfident; he hadn’t exactly left the building yet.

Xander started to walk slowly towards those beckoning doors. All he had to do was move swiftly but not grab anyone’s attention along the way and he’d be almost there.

Out of nowhere, something or someone mowed him down. Well the truth was they both went down and when he quickly got to his feet and turned towards his attacker, he could do nothing but stare at the man. His mouth moved uselessly in a series of unintelligent grunts, hands flapping as he gestured at the vampire crouched before him.

“Spike?” he finally stuttered. He instantly forgot where he was going and why, he found he was frozen, gaping in absolute shock at seeing the blonde vampire alive (in a manner of speaking) right in front of him.

Then all hell broke loose, a series of shouting, lawyers being shoved out of the way eventually drew Xander’s gaze to the stairs he had just descended. Oh shit, it was the one person he’d really hoped to avoid in all this mess.

Angel was manoeuvring around various staff members in an attempt to get to the lobby. It was too late to make a break for it now. Spike was here, how on earth was that possible?

Xander waited until Angel recognized his presence, smelt him or something equally as gross. It didn’t take long.

Angel stopped in his quest to get to Spike before he did something stupid like kill one of his employee’s.

Oh my god, it couldn’t be...

Ahh, yes. The big guy had sensed him.

His eyes tracked across a sea of faces until he found who he was looking for.

Xander grinned, holding up a hand he waved. “Hey! Angel!”

A growl and Spike shifted into gameface and threw himself at Xander. He stumbled backwards onto his arse. Spike on top of him, nails digging into his shoulders as that blonde head went straight to his jugular.

Xander acted on instinct, knee to the groin, kick with both legs and he sent Spike sailing over the top of his head to land sprawled on his back in the same position Xander had been only moments ago.

Angel was at Xander’s side to give him a hand getting to his feet. They both leaned over Spike as the vampire finally passed out from the drugs still in his system. Xander clapped an arm over Angel’s shoulders. “As always, a pleasure. Care to fill me in?” he nodded at the now unconscious vampire.

Angel immediately stepped back out of Xander’s awkward grasp. “What are you doing here Xander?”

“I think I asked you a question first.”

Angel slipped into familiar stubborn moody vampire mode in an instant.

“Does this have something to do with Buffy?”

Xander grinned. “I see you haven’t changed, still think she’s hanging out for your eminent return.”

“I asked you a question.” Angel threatened, stepping into Xander’s personal space.

Xander scoffed in the vampires face. In no way was he intimidated by Angel’s tactics. Instead, he moved even closer to the vampire, never once did his eye flicker from Angel’s hard stare.

Gunn bolted down the stairs, followed by Wesley who was holding a towel to the side of his neck.

“I was in a meeting, looks like I missed quite a show?” Gunn attempted to lighten the mood. Whoever this kid was he was one stupid son of a bitch.

Wesley came into Angel’s peripheral vision and he finally dropped the ‘pissing match’ with Xander, to see to Wes. He wanted to inspect that bite mark, check him out to make sure he was really okay.

“Xander? Uh, it’s been awhile? What are you doing here? Is everything alright?”

Xander flashed Wes a grin and sidestepped Angel to address the ex-watcher.

“I was just asked that question, but since you asked in a civil manner,” he glanced at Angel who just as childishly snorted back. “I was here for the reading of my parent’s will, and then discovered some distressing news.”

Wesley nodded, allowing Angel to take the towel away from his neck to inspect the bite.

“Spike, Yes I expect that was quite a shock. Andrew obviously hadn’t pointed out that he was back?”

“No, he failed to mention that relevant piece of information.”

Wesley walked away from Angel’s overprotective touch and moved to stand beside Xander. He was frowning down at the vampire, as Wesley neared he looked up.

“Perhaps we can continue this conversation in the board-room,” Wesley hesitated for a moment; wetting two fingers in his mouth he then rubbed them over the teeth marks, the bite felt inflamed, slightly itchy, he knew that was considered normal. “I’m sorry to hear about your parents,” he added

Xander nodded, scratching absently at his eye patch, as if in sympathy of Wes’s injuries. “Thank you.”

Just then, several gasps and screams rose up among the staff that had stopped going about their business to gawk at what was going on.

A pulsing greyish cloud came floating down the stairs, it paused in front of Xander for a moment as if studying him before moving on to hover over Spike.

The blonde’s eyes suddenly opened wide. He started to scream as the entity rushed at him, merging with his body violently. The tone of Spike’s screams increased tenfold as he writhed uncontrollably in agony.

Xander didn’t know what possessed him to do it, but he knelt down and stroked his knuckles across Spike’s brow. The screaming ceased immediately at his actions and it was only then that Xander came to his senses and snatched his hand back from that cool inviting skin.

Spike blinked, cracking his jaw and stretching his neck from side to side. It was only then did he notice the upside down face gazing in concern down at him. He frowned deeply and twisted his head to the side to identify his admirer properly.

“Xander?” he blurted out. “Bloody hell, I’m back then.”

Xander reached out a hand for him to take; Spike took the offer and let the boy pull him to his feet. Instantly he looked around at his surroundings and realized he was still to his disappointment at Wolfram and Hart.

“No, bloody luck I tell you. I’m still trapped in this godforsaken hellhole.”

“You know Spike, you could always leave.”

Spike smirked at Angel. “Yeah, bet you’d like that wouldn’t you. Never liked the competition can’t admit that I might just be a little more deserving of the title ‘Hero’ than you.”

Angel had no answer, other than to stomp upstairs and into his office. With the show over, staff went back to their offices leaving Xander, Wesley, Spike and Gunn in the middle of the lobby.

“He’s been working for you?” Xander asked with a hint of scepticism.

Angel had to think about that for a moment. “Well...”

“Oi!” Spike intervened, pouting at Angel.

Wesley sighed. “Yes, he has been part of the team for a good while now.”

Spike smirked. “See, I’ve been bumping uglies with the demon population, doing my part in the name of all things good and pure.”

Wesley gave him a look. Spike deflated a little. 

“Well I ‘ave,” he insisted.

Gunn snorted.

Angel ignored them and stared at the boy he had once had been so jealous of in Sunnydale. Xander caught him watching and neither turned away.

“What happened?” Angel’s eyes flickered to the patch.

Xander grinned. “A priest.”

Angel frowned. “A priest did that to you?”

“Yes,” he answered, scratching at the edges of the leather patch. “A psychotic priest with fondness for killing and who was in league with The First.”

“Oh... that guy. We met; he threw me across the room like a rag doll.”

“Ahh, I see you had the pleasure?”

“Yeah, real shame because not long after that he went to pieces.”

Xander laughed heartily. “I heard that, just wish I been there to see it.”

Angel grinned back at him. “Me too, I was kinda unconscious for the final act, but I got to see the aftermath.” a wistful look in his eye.

“That good huh?”

“Beautiful,” he murmured, gazing out the window.

Xander was just the tiniest bit disturbed by the vampire’s admission. He had to remind himself that Angelus was closer to the surface than most of them believed and sometimes the man slipped up and revealed the demon inside. This was one of those times.

Angel cleared his throat when he noticed everyone was looking at him strangely.

“Yes, well we need to research this thing with Spike’s soul. How it managed to leave his body. Why it just hung around and since he’s got it back, will it be departing again anytime soon?”

“I’m on it.” Wesley pushed his chair back and got to his feet with a slight wince at the pull in his neck. “Blasted vampires,” he muttered under his breath as he gathered his books together.

Both Spike and Angel heard him. Spike gave him a surprisingly apologetic look, when Angel just appeared incredibly guilty, like he was to blame somehow.

Xander sat in one of the boardroom chairs; it was gloriously still in this room, not a whisper of traffic filtered through that thick armour of glass. He gazed out over this incredible view of the city, just a lot of jagged rectangles reaching forever upwards into a velvet sky generously sprinkled with stars. Xander missed this sense of the familiar, but he knew he had no right to stay. He was needed elsewhere now and you can’t go back no matter how much you try.

It didn’t take long for Xander to sense that he was no longer alone in the gloom. When he turned he had expected it to be Angel standing there, instead he found Spike leaning casually against the doorframe, watching him.

Xander found he was reluctant to let go, to even move in the vampire’s company, he felt blissfully at peace in his comforting presence. Even so, Xander could feel the heavy weight of Spike’s stare, even with his back turned.

It was with a ragged intake of breath that he reacted. A gentle caress of a cool palm against the back of his head, slight tug of each strand as those same exquisite fingers combed through his hair. His messy curls wrapped around a fist, yanking hard, throat arched back, a low keening all but devoured by a hard mouth aligned with his lips.

“Xander, are you in here?”

Lights came on, causing him to shield his remaining eye from the harsh neon lighting above his head. He blinked up at the watcher frowning down at him.

“Are you okay? I’m sure we could rustle up some food, a bed if you’d like to sleep? Do you have somewhere to stay?”

Xander shook his head, shaking off the remainder of his dream. “No, I guess I never planned my visit as being more than a stopover before heading back.”

Wesley gave him a modest smile and an understanding nod.

“I wouldn’t mind something to eat though, you know, if you don’t mind?”

Wesley flashed him a grin, automatically reaching for the phone. He handed the receiver to Xander after he directed the call to a local restaurant. He waited as the boy ordered. How easily he’d fallen for the lure of having everything he wanted just a mere phone call away. The Watcher’s council where he’d been raised had had some of those similar perks.

Angel and Spike entered together, they were both murmuring to each other, nether appeared very chuffed at whatever conclusion they had come too. Angel brushed off Spike, pushing in front of him to greet the two humans seated beside the other.

“Xander, you sure you want to stay for this?”

Xander was taken back by Angel’s behaviour. He’d have sworn the vampire would have told him to leave by now. It surprised him; this new attitude of the dark haired vampire, perhaps Deadboy was indeed changed. Wes had told him about Darla’s return. He hadn’t exactly been happy to know that the bitch that had killed his buddy Jessie had returned from hell and had been made human once more. The whole pregnant Darla gives birth to a son, Angel’s son. That had thrown him for a good half hour. He’d found he couldn’t speak; he had no idea what to say. That Angel was a daddy, inconceivable. Xander was just glad Buffy didn’t know about Connor, I don’t think she could have dealt with the idea of her ex being a father.

“Yes, if you don’t mind me being here?”

“Of course not, you’re welcome to stay.” Angels stare didn’t even waver, Xander was impressed.

“I have no problem with it; I doubt anybody else does either.”

That was settled then, he was staying for the time being. Wow, that had been easy.

“Okay we are all here. Wes, you said you’d found out something important?”

Wesley zoned out for a moment beside Xander before thumbing through the pages of a text he’d been reading. Finding the relevant paragraph, he slid the volume across the breadth of the table just as Angel sat down directly opposite him.

They connected for moment before Angel looked away to read the fine print. It was Romanian, he sighed, a language he knew all to well.

Wes waited; they all waited for Angel to respond. Eventually he closed the tome with an ominous thud, crossing his hands over the cover.

“Spike will have to return to Africa to consult the demon.”

“Yes, it appears so. In truth, it shouldn’t be happening. The Chootra is known to give the warrior what he so desires. If Spike went in search of gaining back his soul and he satisfied the terms of that agreement then I doubt anything could take it from him.”

“Why then?”

“There must be an outside unforeseen being that is challenging the power of the Chootra. How its being done and for what reason, I have no idea?”

Spike slammed his fist down on the table growling. “For fuck sake, I’m here you know, in the goddamn room as you nits. Someone speak to me directly and you better be bloody quick about it?”

“Sorry Spike. You are going to need to see the Chootra; find out what this thing is that is trying to get at your soul,” Wesley sympathised.

“I’m not going back there,” Spike stated, pouting stubbornly.

Angel hissed. “You will be going, if I have to personally deliver you there myself.”

Xander laughed, but sobered quickly at all the stern faces turned towards him. “Right, not funny, I get it,” he mouthed, slumping further into his chair.

Spike sneered at his Sire, abruptly standing, kicking back his chair before striding from the room in a huff. “Testy bastard,” he muttered, as his duster flapped around his legs.

Xander was compelled for some reason to follow but was stopped by a discreet hand on his arm, Wesley’s. It was Angel that got up to go to Spike in the end, although he seemed reluctant to intervene. Spike was no picnic at the best of times let alone when he was being ordered to do something he clearly wanted no part of.

“Spike needs to confront Angel about this.”

“They’ll probably kill each other.”

Wes looked at Xander, pausing with his arms full of books and papers scribbled over with ideas. “Possibly,” He shrugged.

Angel cleared his throat as he stepped over the threshold to face Spike. The vampire sat hunched in the corner, leaning daringly against the glass, he gazed down at the humans going about their daily lives. Spike knew most of them were ignorant of the demons that lay in wake for them.

“You’re not exactly hard to track; I followed the path of fleeing lawyers, scrambling over themselves to get away from the rampaging vampire. Took a wild guess and gathered that was you.”

“Well, it wouldn’t have happened mate if you had just given me an office of my own to sulk in.” He continued to stare down at all those potential victims that by next week could be his dinner. “Besides, I wasn’t hiding from you. Hell, if you wanted you could scent me half way across the continent.”

Angel quirked a small grin. He could indeed, if he wanted too. With a resigned sigh he sat down next to Spike, crossing his legs at the ankle and leaning his head back against the wall behind him.

Several minutes passed with nothing said.

“Do you want to lose your soul again? Is that it?” Angel questioned.

Spike gawked at him. “Bloody hell, of course I flamin don’t.”

“What is it then? It’s not like you to back down like this, your bull headed; you’ve always leapt in with everything you have,” Angel blustered, exasperated with the blonde. “What makes this time any different?”

Spike sat hunched in the corner, silence once more dominated the small room. He had turned back towards the window, to the humans below.  What did he once call them? Happy meals with legs, yeah... wasn’t that the truth.

Angel sat with him; it wasn’t as if he had anywhere else to be right now. He could wait. He was a patient man, when he needed to be.

“Okay goddamn it, enough of this Spike, spill?”

More silence and then...

“I’m scared. Are you happy now? Does it give you the jollies knowing I’m bloody afraid of what’s going to happen when I go back there? Kinda enjoy having my soul back, being in control once more. This Chootra may think I’m unworthy or some such bollocks and go back on his word.” Spike stumbled to his feet, leaning heavily against the wall behind him. “You know I’d rather just get rat-arsed right now, instead jabbering with you.”

He was half way across the room before Angel spoke.

“You think you’re the only one who’s ever been scared. I’m petrified every flamin day that I’m botching it all up, that I’m setting them all up for an early death. I’m afraid that if I’m not staying alert at all times, not always on the ball, then that’s when they’ll strike. If I get too complacent, to damn cheery then he’ll comeback and this time there won’t be a reprieve.”

Spike hadn’t turned around, but he acknowledged Angel by not questioning his fears. He was in no mood to have broody pants in more of a funk then he already was. Apparently, hell had frozen over.

“Wanna beer? I’ll even consider shouting ya, if you cease with the whole sacrificial victim fixation. Blimey you’re a whiny bastard.” He gave Angel a teasing smile, which the older vamp returned.

“Nah, you go. Take Xander with you,” he smirked.

“Ruddy hell! Do I have to? I never much liked the bloke when he was a teenage misfit sniffing after Buffy. He’s been letching after me the second I saw his bloody face hovering over me in that there foyer. Took me completely by surprise when I caught a whiff at what he’s been advertising, I’d never pegged him as a nancy-boy.”

Angel laughed. “Oh, I did.”

Spike raised in eyebrow. “Really? You mean...?”

Angel grinned. “Oh yeah,” he purred.

Spike laughed. “Now that does surprise me, with your soul and all. Angel, it seems that you’ve been paddling, where you ought not to have been?”

Angel shrugged. “Hey, I never said I was a saint.”

“And?” Spike hinted.

Angel shook his head vehemently. “Oh no...You’re not living vicariously through me anymore. Find out for yourself.”

“Fuck you mate. As if I...”

“You always have, ever since Dru brought you into our little family. It’s always been you, me and your need to best me.”

“Yeah, well that’s how you decided to play it from the beginning.”

“True, I was just as much at fault and you did get the best of me.”

Spike couldn’t help but gawk at that admission.

Angel growled. “Occasionally,” he added.

Spike smirked. “Never fancied such a confession from you, since you’re be’ in so charitable, how bout you answer me one question?”

Angel turned his back on the blonde, wandering to the windows edge, palms flat against the glass. A sliver of moon was visible on the horizon. Awe inspiring in the way it dominated the sky, a blazing ball of orange set against a spectacular sunset.   

“Pushing my luck again, ain’t I?”

Angel didn’t answer. Spike nodded his head slightly, lips pursed.

After Spike left Angel standing there in that tiny office, he prowled the hallways. Several of the lawyers still appeared wary of him and steered clear, much to his amusement.

He eventually found the boy huddled in the dark, asleep on the leather couch in the main boardroom. Spike crouched down beside Xander’s sleep relaxed body. He resisted the urge to stroke the errant curl that fell over his good eye. Spike so wanted to tuck the wisp back behind Xander’s ear, then get Willow to raise that priest’s body just so he could have the satisfaction of killing him. Okay, maybe that was a tad insane. He had no idea where that sudden burst of protectiveness was coming from, wasn’t sure he liked it either. Still, it didn’t seem to stop his gaze drift freely down that long frame. They were the same height, how convenient. Xander it seemed had also gained a sense of style in the past year that he’d missed, an irrational jealousy consumed him at that thought. Someone obviously had influenced this change and his deeply envious side told him it had to be another male, because no female had ever got him to alter his horrendous taste in anything that screamed nasty, garish and discounted. 

“Must say it’s a wee bit creepy to wake up and find you staring at me, especially after you trying to bite me.”

Spike bounced to his feet at being caught watching, mighty glad that he couldn’t blush.  

“Yeah, well I was going to invite ya out for a beer mate, but you’re obviously buggered?”

Xander winced at Spike’s choice of words.

Spike didn’t wait for an answer; he was already at the door when Xander finally piped up.

“No” Xan practically screeched, causing Spike to flicker his tongue suggestively over his top teeth in anticipation. “I’m awake. Let’s go have that beer, perhaps a game of pool?”

Spike grinned knowingly to himself, managing to twist it into an indifferent sneer before facing Xander once more. He was just in the nick of time to witness a stretch of taut stomach muscles as Xander reached his arms stiffly towards the ceiling. Bones popped obscenely back into place as he endeavoured to stifle a yawn, failing miserably.

Spike gulped. “Right then, let’s go.”

Xander frowned at the way Spike’s eyes darted away from him, but whatever hopeful thought settled there, was immediately squished by a brain that had been conditioned into believing the ugly things said about him. Spike reminded him of Sunnydale and the past, from his not so pleasant childhood and the all too human monsters that had inhabited it. Xander trusted that he’d moved on from these trapped feelings, the ones that had kept him under thumb and repressed for so damn long. Apparently, there were inner battles still to be won.

Spike had fled the room while he’d fought the ‘good fight’ so to speak and before he’d even finished tying his laces. Xander gave up and ran to catch up with the blonde as he headed for the elevator. If he lost Spike now, he may never find him in this place.

It was with an uncomfortable silence that permeated that enclosed space, an express ride to the basement. Xander brightened immediately upon arrival, especially when he spotted the collection of the drool worthy cars neatly parked there.

Spike snorted at the ‘little boy let loose in the candy store of his dreams’ look that Xander was now sporting. He was happy to oblige the boy. Okay, so strictly they weren’t his to give, but what the hell. Would Angel really deny him this?

“Choose?”

Xander slack jawed. “Huh?”

“You get to choose the car and I’ll even let you drive it, if you play nice.” Fuck! That was such a loaded question. What the hell had he been thinking?

“Wow! Okay yeah, you got a deal,” he grinned, instantly gliding his hands lovingly over the first sweet baby he came across, an Aston Martin. A little hot tamale, a lot of salsa and you have one the reddest of the reds, the V12 Vanquish, the car he’d kill for.

“This is the one I want,” he whispered breathlessly, reverently. Xander couldn’t take his hands off the hood, he wanted nothing more than to slide behind that wheel and fondle the interior. Spike watched those hands covet every curve, twiddle with every button. Was that a little drool on the corner of his mouth? He’d never been so insanely jealous of an inanimate object before, until this moment.  

Xander blushed as he wiped a hand across his mouth, Spike slid into the seat on the passenger side. “Sorry about that, think I was drooling,” he sighed, his one eye alight with child like wonder. “I’ve always wanted to drive an Aston Martin, ever since my first initiation into the world of agent 007.”

Xander gunned the engine; he was more than happy just to do that for a while.

“Let’s go mate. I’m parched.”

Xander kept the definitely unmanly squeal that was dying to come out. He would not embarrass himself in front of Spike. Oh god, he really was going to be allowed to drive this baby.

Yes!

“Give me directions and I’ll get us there?” He couldn’t conceal his excitement as he accelerated towards the garage door. Spike extracted a box from the pocket of his duster and pointed it towards the door. “Cool.” He answered in an awed hush, watching the garage door roll upwards out of sight, only the inviting plush velvet of the night beckoning him to come play.

“Are you sure about this Spike, my eyesight isn’t as it was, well obviously you know that, you’ve seen me, you know the story.” Xander continued to rattle on, waiting for the offer to be taken away from him and begging silently for Spike to ignore his fears.

Spike hadn’t the heart to put an end to this joy ride, not yet anyway. He rather enjoyed watching the pleasure thrum through that silken body, just as the car was purring through his bones, so was he. Lust was a powerful motivator.

It was three quarters of an hour later that Spike finally had Xander drive the car into his parking space. He couldn’t resist letting Xander really open her up. He knew the boy was dying for it and he wanted strangely to make Xander happy, much to his disgust.

Regretfully Xander obeyed Spike and pulled into the space. He took one long last glance at the plush interior before opening the door and getting out. Once he was standing on the asphalt, he turned his back on the longing and followed the vampire to yet another set of elevators.

Sixth floor and they were both walking along a narrow, dimly lit corridor. Spike sauntered ahead with a kind of easy grace that never failed to attract attention wherever he went.

“Where are we going?” Xander shook himself out of the sudden funk that had engulfed him. He could still feel the vibration of the V12 engine between his thighs and the thought of all that power was making him a tad horny, which was very, very bad in front of a vampire.

Spike opened the door with a flourish, sweeping his hand to encompass the small but neat apartment. “My apartment, its not the ‘Savoy’ but its home.”

Xander stepped back, half afraid to step over the entranceway. Spike had taken him here, why here? Didn’t they have bars full of beer in L.A?

Spike watched closely, anticipating Xander’s hesitancy. He headed for the kitchen, throwing a casual “You coming in or not mate?” over his shoulder.

Xander was compelled into the apartment, as Spike was nowhere to be seen. He had to at least turn down the vampire’s hospitality face to face.

He couldn’t help but glance around the room, his eye resting on the few personal items Spike had strewn about the place. It appeared as if the vampire spent little time in the apartment other than to sleep.

Xander flopped down on the couch; he couldn’t resist bouncing a couple of times, pleased that it seemed comfy enough. Oh God, comfy enough! Could he be any more obvious? However, for some unexplained reason he had taken his boots off and tucked his bare feet under his knees, as he seated himself Indian style on the couch. Xander reached forward to the coffee table and snatched up the playstation console lying neglected there.

He was considering the choices when Spike finally came back out without beer in hand. He was struck dumb upon Spike’s return, as the vamp sat on the table immediately in front of him, blocking his view of the screen.

Spike reached for Xander’s hand. He instantly froze as Spike pulled the console effortlessly out of his palm.

“No beer?” Xander tried to ask as calmly as possible.

“Afraid not mate, seem to be fresh out.”

Xander attempted to get to his feet. “Well then looks like we are going to have to find us some then.” Spike pushed him back into the couch, Xander sunk back in place. “Hey, up for another spin around the city.”

Spike gave him a look as if to say ‘cut it out mate, I’m not stupid’.

Xander swallowed thickly.

“How long?”

“Huh?” Oh, yes we were back to playing dumb. Always worked wonders in the past. The Zeppo, donut boy...

Xander became suddenly aware, violently so, that one pale hand had landed on his thigh and was promptly stealing the warmth from his entire body.

“Spike, you are Spike right? Not William the Bloody? Oh hell, you’re not going to bite me right? Oh god, are you?”  

The blonde vamp gave him a truly wicked grin in return.

“Not unless you want me to, Pet.” He flashed Xander a lot of gleaming white teeth that had the potential to rip his limbs apart.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This had not been the answer he was hoping for. Xander could feel the cold sweat trickling uncomfortably down the back of his neck, his heart beating like a jack rabbit in his chest, while that hand crept up his thigh.

Honestly, he tried to remain his ground, not to squirm when his death was staring him serenely in the face.

Unexpectedly, Spike burst out laughing and Xander felt the breath he was holding whoosh out of him in blind panic.

“Spike?” he dared.

“Oh god, the sheer terror was practically gushing off of you in waves. It was priceless pet.”

Xander scowled; annoyed that he had been messed with. Goddamn vampires and their warped sense of humour.

“Funny.”

Spike smirked. “Ya think? I thought it was quite witty myself.”

“I have to be leaving now.” Xander stood up; he was promptly forced back down into the couch.

“Why leave? Stay. I’d like you too. Besides you still haven’t answered my question.”

Xander was taken aback. “What question? I must have missed...”

“How long?”

Xander grimaced. “How long...what?”

Spike sighed, rolling his eyes to the side before returning to Xander. “You know what I’m talking about. Hell, Luv you reek of it.”

“What?” Xander gasped disgusted. “I do not,” he answered indignantly, resisting the urge to take a whiff of his armpits.

Spike’s fingers reached the crease between thigh and hip. This time Xander couldn’t help the shiver that came with such an unsolicited touch. Although he’d failed to remain still while Spike manipulated him, at least he hadn’t betrayed himself by voicing his desire.

“Spike?”

“Yes, Xander?”

“What are you doing?” he asked in a hoarse whisper. Spike had begun to slide two of his fingers along the crease, inching closer to a cock that was definitely paying attention even if the mantra in its owners head was praying otherwise.

A knowing smirk crept slowly over those luscious lips, eyes trained to the interested twitch in Xander’s trousers.

“I don’t remember you ever showing even the slightest hint of wanting to fuck me Harris,” Spike drawled, sniffing the air appreciatively.

“My God,” Xander spluttered, inching along the couch and away from those fingers, cursing his traitorous libido for giving him away.

“Your little jaunt to the other side, this happened when? After Sunnydale, I’m guessing. Not with Andrew was it?”

Xander shook his head, still retreating until he hit the arm of the couch.

Spike watched him, amused, flicking a tongue over his front teeth.

“Good.”

Xander waited, a part of him wanting to chance running, but a larger part needed desperately to know how far Spike was going to take this. Was this a tease or had Spike taken him home to seduce him?

“So if not Andrew, Giles then perhaps?”

Xander gave him a face that suggested most definitely not.

“Did it happen in Africa?”

Xander gave nothing away, but Spike knew he’d hit the jackpot. He grinned wolfishly at the boy cowering in the corner of his lounge suite.

“Some dark skinned, long streak of piss I bet?” the blonde sighed dramatically. Snatching both of the boy’s feet off the floor and tugging roughly till Xander was sprawled on his back. Spike took no time at all to straddle the young mans body, one hand holding him up so that he hovered temptingly over his prey.

“Bit like you.” He ghosted a hand down the length of the body under him, not quite touching but enough to make Xander almost whimper at the suggestion.

“You’ve tarted yourself up pet.” Spike twirled one finger over the faint patterns on Xander’s shirt. “Coming back here with fancy new duds, grown out those shaggable locks I just want to fist... it’s all real nice. Luv.”

Xander had zoned out, his eye virtually glued to the impressive display of taut abs encased in tight black cotton that left nothing to the imagination. He had registered the honey like tones that purred devastatingly into his ear, but the meaning was lost in a tempest of sensation.

Suddenly Xander’s drool worthy view was taken unfairly away from him and he was manhandled further up the length of the couch, until he was staring into those gold-tinged irises.

Xander closed his eye to the sharp stab of fear mixed with a healthy dose of desire that coursed through him. He jolted at the first cool swipe of a tongue against his throat, but finally resorted to soft keening when only blunt teeth nibbled across his Adams apple, soothed immediately after with that same wicked tongue.

Spike eagerly sucked on every inch of that soft, blissfully warm skin under him. He couldn’t quite get enough of Xander’s taste as his tongue curled possessively around one lobe, tugging at the flesh just to hear the boy mewl helplessly.

Xander arched his head back against the armrest; his shoulder length curls spilling over the side of the couch. Spike slid his fingers sensuously through the fine strands, fascinated with the lush texture; the carnal play of light and dark so completely interweaved.

As Spike coveted each lock in turn, rubbing the exquisite feel through the pads of his fingers he became aware that Xander was quickly becoming an orgasmic mess. Who knew playing with someone’s hair could have such a powerful reaction.

Xander arched violently, spasms racked his entire frame as he howled into Spike’s demanding mouth. The vampire easily swallowed Xander’s protests, enticing his tongue to come play. Xander panted, giving back as good as he got. Lips and teeth fought for dominance while tongues succumbed to their own tireless agenda.

Spike couldn’t help it when his fangs dropped for a moment and he nipped at that greedy tongue of Xander’s, drawing the tiniest drop of blood into his own mouth to savour.

It was the piercing of his own flesh that drew Spike back. Five puncture marks on each forearm had him sitting up fast. His blood trickled down the length of his arms, he wasn’t even aware that it was staining the material of his couch; his eyes were fixed firmly to Xander across from him.

Xander was gaping unblinkingly at the hooked claws that had somehow emerged from the tips of his fingers.

“Whoa!” he breathed, perversely fascinated with the claws he had managed to acquire. Flexing his fingers, he experimentally slashed at the empty air, growling playfully. This must be part of his demon genetic makeup, but why was it showing itself now?

Spike blinked. “Mate, what’s happening to you? Your scent it’s changing.”

Xander had almost forgotten Spike was there until the vampire spoke. Adrenaline started to course through his veins as he launched himself at Spike. Xander grin turned feral as he pressed Spike’s body against his own, the vampires back moulded into the couch, effectively they had switched positions. 

The claws rested lightly over Spike’s chest, he ceased to squirm as Xander crooked his fingers until the sharp points jabbed warningly into Spike’s flesh.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered.

“I’m bloody not,” Spike snorted, although he couldn’t help but flinch when one claw pierced the material of his shirt and continued to slice through it till the shredded pieces were discarded on the floor. Xander bent close to Spike’s bare chest and blew softly at the pale skin. Spike closed his eyes as the rush of pheromones in his breath made him rock hard.  “Who are you? Your not Xander, you don’t even smell human.”

“Oh but I’ am Xander. I didn’t tell you...” He stopped to nuzzle along Spike’s jaw. Much to his annoyance Spike let this stranger, this demon touch him. “When I was at Wolfram and Hart and being read my parents will, I was told something disturbing, that the two arseholes that I’d always considered as my parents weren’t actually so. My mother as it turns out was a demon from another dimension being sheltered by the office, she fucked one of the employee’s and I’m their love child. Isn’t that grand?”

“My god, are you serious?” Spike stared back, shocked.

Xander grinned, the same goofy smile that always made him look kinda geeky back in Sunnydale.

“Yes Spike, I got you though didn’t I. Oh I could feel the tenseness of every muscle, you were petrified. Did you think I might hurt you?” He continued to grin.

Spike growled, shoving the palms of his hands hard against Xander’s clothed chest. “Get off me.”

Xander pouted dramatically rocking back on his heels giggling. “Spoil sport, can dish it out but can’t take it when someone else turns the tables on you.”

Spike sat up, ignoring the way Xander’s body called to him, especially as Xander was slowly stripping out of his shirt. He triumphantly flicked his claws over each pesky button, one at a time they pinged on the wooden floor. The sound drove Spike crazy; he had to get out of there.

“You can’t resist me can you? I really turn you on and the thought that I might just be dangerous, excites you more. Doesn’t it?”

Spike was shocked, but he would be damned if he showed that to this boy. Things were changing too quickly. He wasn’t used to having someone trying to dominate him.

“You are so much like Angel, all brooding and pouty.” Oh, Xander couldn’t resist teasing the vamp a little. He knew Spike hated any reference to similarities between him and his poofy sire.  

“And you would know!” He spat back. Fuck! Spike tried to get off the couch but Xander promptly sat on his lap to keep him down. He was an idiot for letting his petty jealousy show, damn it.  

Xander cocked his head to the side and when his hands landed on Spikes chest, the claws had retracted so only the pads of his fingers circled around each nipple in a lazy figure eight.

“What are you getting all worked up over?” Xander purred, leaning closer to mimic the path of his fingers with the flat of his tongue. Spike hissed at the warmth that mouth was creating on his chest.

Spike tried to hold his tongue, not to voice his distrust but he couldn’t do it, he had to know. This was not continuing if he didn’t have every gory detail of their encounter in his mind.

“You and Angel? Don’t lie, he already told me.”

Xander leaned back away from the sweet ache, the pure lust he could taste in Spike’s skin. Being a demon definitely had some interesting advantages. He was picking up emotions from Spike he had never been able to before. He finally got a hold of himself and blinked back the hunger that had narrowed his focus to that of the vampire under him.

“There is nothing between Angel and I, there never has been, if he told you otherwise than he’s lying.”

“Oh,” Spike answered. He wasn’t sure what to say to that, it seemed like Xander was telling him the truth. “Nothing?”

“Nothing Spike. He actually told you we’ve been intimate?” Xander asked in disbelief.

Spike nodded, feeling the fool. Of course Angel had told him that, he’d wanted to incite him to go after Xander. Hadn’t Angel said that his whole existence had been about besting the elder vampire? He was right and Angel had cleverly used that to manipulate him to this point.

Xander laughed. Why would Angel do that? Weird, he’d never understood the big guy. There were layers to the vampire that baffled him. Now Spike was different, a vampire with not so much emotional baggage or if he did, he wore it well.

Spike nudged Xander back off him; he really needed that beer now. Maybe this was a bad idea, getting involved with Xander who apparently was a demon or part demon at least. Like him. Oh, that was disturbing thought. Perhaps that was the reason he had always...

It was an alarming thought but Xander had the potential to hurt him and no, he didn’t mean just physically.

Spike was halfway across the room, heading for the kitchen when hands settled on his hips and he was pulled back into a hard body.

“I never said anything about you being able to move,” Xander whispered harshly in his ear.

Spike closed his eyes, until that wicked tongue swiped over the side of his neck to the echo of a throaty chuckle. He used his own nails to force Xander off him but the boy was like steel. Apparently strength had just been added to Xander’s attributes.

Xander’s right hand snuck under the waistband of Spike’s jeans, squeezing down over cotton boxers to mold his warm hand to that impressive erection. His mouth sucking on Spikes bared throat, mimicking just what he’d like to be doing to that gorgeous cock.

“Fuck!” Spike moaned as those warm fingers finally closed around his naked cock, pulling hard and fast from base to tip. Spike lost his balance and fell against Xander, one arm around his waist keeping them both upright.

Frustrated with the lack of access Xander withdrew his hand much to Spikes vocal disappointment as he groaned painfully. Xander could feel the reverberation against his lips as he scrapped his teeth over Spike’s jugular. He grinned as he worked harder at pulling more of those sounds from the vampire. What it must be like to bite down, to really taste Spike. He only hoped that he could beg Spike to do just that to him.

Willing his claws to return, Xander was more than pleased when he looked down at his hand and felt them extracting from the tips if his fingers. Cooing with happiness, he made short work of the buttons on Spike’s fly before abruptly shoving him across the room. Spikes knee’s struck the edge of the coffee table and sent the vampire sprawling across the surface. 

With Spike’s arse in the air, Xander peeled his own trousers down his legs, tossing them to the side; his eye never left the prize, ready, waiting and oh so compliant.

Spike was furious at the indignity of having Xander throw him across the room. He maybe horny as hell but he wasn’t sure how he felt about being this former Scooby’s fuck toy and oh he knew he going to get good and fucked. No doubt about it. Not to mention his cock was bunched up in his tight jeans and trapped against the unresisting wood of the table under him. It was this type of brutality that awakened an intense need to gratify every depraved indulgence that had ever flared to life in his head.    

Xander sunk to his knees at the alter of that very fine arse. He quickly prayed to every deity that he had the opportunity to pay homage to such sweet perfection.

Spike felt the heat literally pouring off Xander’s body; he was so close now but still he wasn’t touching him. The wait was torturous and he almost begged if it hadn’t been for warm hands that without warning claimed every single curve of his arse.

Xander sighed contentedly as he scratched his human nails over the denim that concealed a world-class heinie. He leaned forward and pushed his face into that clothed arse, rubbing his cheek against the rough material. He hummed in pleasure, his nose poking along the seam curiously. Spike squirmed, growling at the tease as Xander chuckled behind him. He breathed hot air through the material, which caused Spike to mewl, to take pity on him.

With one searing motion, Xander had tugged at the jeans hindering any further exploration. Spike bit viciously into his arm so that he didn’t scream when his bound cock was ripped free of its prison so cruelly it burned.

Xander took pity on him and swooped in, tongue and all. A blistering trail of saliva was left in Xander’s wake as he pushed Spike beyond ecstasy. His tongue forever circled around that musky puckered hole, his nose snuffling noisily in wiry pubic curls already slick from his hungry mouth.

Spike was whimpering as he shoved backwards, Xander may have taken those wordless demands eagerly but he made the vampire pay dearly for being so damn impatient.

Sucking hard, he mouthed the area till it virtually dripped, and then he blew cold air over the puckered opening. His smile pure evil as he watched that tiny hole clench around the unsuspecting chill. He waited until the shudders receded and then started the whole process again till he drove Spike mad with want.

“Fuck!” Spike murmured into the wood, his lips bloody from biting down so ferociously. Xander was taking extreme pleasure in tormenting him. “You bastard.”

“Had enough?”

“Yes...oh please” To Spike’s endless shame he was begging.

He sighed in bliss as Xander grew tired of the game and the boy began to stab, to twist his tongue at his hole. Thrusting deeper and wetter as he fucked his tongue into Spike’s willing body, Xander decided he’d happily lap at Spike’s arse forever. His muscles were slowly becoming pliant under his continuous ministrations and the vampire’s cries were increasing as he impaled his tongue as Xander rooted farther, drilling into that soft cavern with abandon.

Spike was in heaven and he never wanted to leave, he fucking adored the man that had taught Xander how to drive him wild. He was going to make goddamn sure Xander never left his side. Chain him there if possible.

Suddenly the tongue that had forced a low whimpering keening from deep within him, ceased altogether and he was ready to kill, Spike’s gameface snarled back at his lover.

Xander ignored the vampire roaring his outrage; instead he threw Spike backwards on to the floor where he proceeded to yank his legs wide apart, raising the vampires arse off the floor at the same time as he thrust his angry cock into that tight slice of paradise.

Xander groaned throwing back his head in delicious surrender as Spike immediately clenched around the invader in his body. The vampire spluttered at the violence of Xander’s coring and he loved it, absolutely loved every second of the assault.

Xander was too far-gone to last; he needed to cum so badly, his balls ached for the final release. He surged forward, wicked rug burns were going to be decorating that fine arse but he’d soothe them later. First, he needed to cum then he’d coddle the vampire.

One last hard thrust, fingers digging into Spike’s hips as the vampire flexed his fingers, nails tearing at the Persian rug. He held the vampire balls deep as he roared into those golden eyes. He came so hard he almost blacked out with the intensity.

Xander released him and Spike collapsed back to the blissfully cool floor in a boneless sprawl. Xander eased himself out, his thick cum still clung provocatively to his dick and he prowled forwards on all fours over Spike’s exhausted body.

He hovered over the vampires open mouth, sliding his own hand down his cock, coating his fingers stickily in his essence, which he promptly fed to Spike. The vampire excitedly swallowed every drop offered as ribbons of cum painted his lips and he ran his tongue over his mouth sucking at the luscious nectar. Spike’s hand snatched at Xander’s messy digits and drew each finger hungrily into his mouth.

Xander groaned using his other hand to seek out Spike’s erection and fist the rigid length of Spike’s cock in a punishing grip. He pulled the vampire to him, one arm slung around his back to keep him upright; the other still worked that cock with long heady strokes. Aided by the cum that dribbled freely from the tip, Xander alternated the strength and speed of each devastating stroke, bringing Spike crashing to the brink and then slamming him back like a fistful of ice water.

“You like playing bastard don’tcha Luv?” Spike whistled through clenched teeth as Xander yet again slammed on those brakes.

“I just enjoy making you crumble, because I want to be the only one that can pull you together again. I want this to be so damn good you won’t be able to think of anything else but my fingers imprinted on your body, your very soul.”

Spike was lost for words so when Xander continued to caress, to tease, to stroke, upping the tempo finally and arching his neck to the side for him to bite...Spike could only gawk in disbelief.

“Do it, please Spike,” he whimpered, feeling Spike’s balls draw up at the words; it was the pleading that pushed him over the edge.

Spike blinked, he didn’t need to be asked twice. His gameface fell into place, wrenching Xander’s throat to the side, fists of curls yanked painfully out of his way as he sunk his fangs into Xander’s honey warm skin. Blood gushed over his tongue as he jerked erratically against Xander’s strong body. Spike's cum surged over Xander’s hand as he milked each and every drop from the vampire’s groin.

Spike tore his mouth from the temptation of taking too much. Xander sagged against his shoulder, panting into that pale skin, he was perfectly sated.

“Oh my god, you’ll be the death of me,” Spike sighed, wrapping his arms loosely around Xander’s shoulders, pressing his face into all those dark beautiful curls at the nape of the boy’s neck.

Xander spun to face Spike, grinning happily at him he touched his lips to Spike’s, savouring the sweetness as they kissed, soft liquid kisses that quickly turned ravenous. As Spike opened again under Xander’s fresh onslaught, something slick wound seductively around his thigh. Spike gasped as that same something rasped maddeningly soft against his tender anus and it wasn’t Xander’s fingers because both hands were busily combing through his hair.

“Oh my God!” Spike whispered as he gazed down at Xander who was now the proud owner of a long black leathery tail, which seemed to have a dirty mind all of its own. Xander tugged Spike flush against him with the aid of his long tail that lashed around Spike’s legs. He instantly claimed those lips in a biting kiss.

“Round two,” he declared.