The Arrangement

By Esmeralda

Part Six

Spike listened with some amusement as the Slayer enthusiastically described her latest demonic adversary. Her Watcher was frantically flicking through an enormous dusty tome in an attempt to identify it. Spike smirked evilly, he could save the bloke the bother but why spoil their fun, or his.

The vampire knew exactly what Buffy's mysterious assailant was, he also knew how to kill it and what happened when you did.

Queresh demons could only be killed with a pure iron blade. Spike wished he could be there when the Slayer finally stuck the knife in. When a Queresh died it exploded - very impressive it was - and very, very messy. The thought of her blonde Buffyness getting sprayed in foul smelling blood and guts cheered Spike up slightly.

However, in the depths of his unbeating heart Spike remained depressed. His implant was only part of it. Spike had been back at the Watcher's for five days and quite simply he missed Xander. The vampire was nauseated by his own patheticness. Unfortunately, no matter how many times he told himself that the youth was merely an entertaining distraction - and an irritatingly inconvenient one at that - it didn't help.

He wanted Xander, by his side and in his bed, where the youth belonged. Spike glanced over at the couch where Xander sat, apparently assisting Giles with research. The vampire knew full well Xander was faking it. Those dark brown eyes hadn't moved once across the page, instead they stared at it blankly, lost in thought. Spike's smirk vanished rapidly and it was all he could do not to grind his teeth in frustration.

Xander had turned up at the Watcher's every day since Spike's departure. During these brief visits the youth was always worryingly quiet, almost withdrawn. On one occasion Xander had absently rubbed at his arm, scrunching up his sleeve slightly. The vampire's keen eyesight had instantly picked up on the discoloration marking Xander's skin.

Bruises.

Bruises, Spike had not put there.

Bruises, in the shape of a hand print, as though some one had grabbed the youth fiercely.

Spike had tried to speak to Xander about it, but it was impossible to snatch more than thirty seconds alone without somebody interrupting. Spike was silently seething. Why wouldn't the youth fight back? He'd seen Xander tackle vampires and various unspeakable demons without batting an eyelid, but the whelp took the abuse his own family handed out as though it was a friggin' duty.

He glanced back at the Slayer - who was still wittering on about her attacker, and the Watcher - who was buried in his bloody book. The witch couldn't even find the time to put in an appearance - too busy with her new friend. What was wrong with them all? Were they soddin' blind? Spike wanted to smash their heads together, or rip 'em off their bloody necks. He hated them for being so caught up in their own pathetic lives that they couldn't see that Xander was floundering in his.

Spike turned his gaze back toward his lover. Xander hadn't moved, he was curled up in a tight miserable huddle, as though trying to disappear into the couch. Spike suppressed the urge to shout at them to just *look* at the youth. He knew Xander wouldn't want to be the focus of attention and besides he didn't want them sticking their bleedin' noses in. The vampire just wanted them to take *some* notice; to realise that their sarcastic, mouthy friend had been replaced by this pale, taciturn stranger.

He stared hard at the youth, trying to get Xander's attention. Spike knew he'd succeeded when his lover's heart beat quickened, but Xander steadfastly refused to look at him. It seemed that Xander was dealing with their enforced separation the only way he could - by ignoring Spike.

Spike wanted to kill something.

The vampire had played around with the idea of being such an unbearable prick that Giles would kick him out. The plan had drawbacks. The Watcher seemed to have decided that, implant or no implant, Spike was too destructive a force to be unleashed on Sunnydale without close supervision. This basically meant that if the Watcher ever tired of having Spike underfoot he would be unlikely to just turn him loose. Far more probable was the likelihood that Spike would find himself turned over to the Slayer for dusting.

Alright, so the git had said they wouldn't hurt a 'defenceless creature' - not that he *was* bloody defenceless - but still, he wasn't willing to lay his existence on it. Spike had put aside all thoughts of entering Hell any time soon. In a strange and mildly troubling way, he was happier with Xander than he had been for some time. Spike had given a lot of thought to what he would do when Dru came back and she would, he was confident of that. He missed his dark goddess. However, a small niggly part of him chose to point out that having her around didn't necessarily make for a happy, contented Spike. Drusilla was a beautiful, wicked, alluring temptress. She was also bloody high maintenance. Even after the spell to restore her strength, her sanity remained highly questionable. Keeping her and Miss fuckin' Edith satisfied was, more often than not, an exhausting and unrewarding task. Dru was all take and no give.

It had been different when she was totally dependent on him; Spike had found a perverse pleasure in her neediness. That changed once she was stronger. Now she was no longer needy, just flamin' demanding, and he was tired of it. He was tired of her incessant harping about Angelus and the past. He was tired of her bloody dolls and her soddin' tea parties. He was extremely tired of her annoying little habit of flinging herself, open-legged, at every scabby demon who paid her a fuckin' compliment. The bleedin' Slayer was right....his girl was a 'ho.

Spike was decided. When Dru showed up she would have to accept Xander. No doubt she would pout and sulk, and stamp her dainty little feet....and then go off and shag some scum-faced bastard. No matter how shrewish she got, Xander was staying and if she dared to try and hurt the youth.....Well, just let her try. Spike was more than capable of disciplining his blackhearted beauty.

Xander was his. *No one* interfered with that.

Thoughts of making Xander 'his' in a more literal sense tormented him. Spike wanted the youth so badly it was becoming a permanent ache. Perhaps he should have risked it with the implant? The vampire's expression darkened. No, definitely *not* a good idea. The pain was intolerable, a wrenching agony that quite simply paralysed him. Spike was no stranger to pain - dealing or receiving - but there was no pleasure to this mind numbing torture.

Spike wanted to make it good for Xander. He wanted the youth to enjoy it, so they could do it again....and again....and again. Like any vampire, Spike enjoyed a bit of violence and suffering. However, Spike preferred his lovers hot and willing; rape didn't do it for him. If it were part of mutual fun and games, pain had a place, Spike had no qualms about making his lovers bleed or scream as long it was pleasurable for all concerned. As a method of torture, rape was also useful and Spike had applied it in the past, but he didn't get off on it.

Spike didn't want to rape Xander, he just wanted to fuck the whelp into unconsciousness.

Spike squirmed uncomfortably, (Fuck) he was getting hard thinking about it. This wasn't good. Perhaps the time had come for drastic action? Suppressing the perverse desire to put up his hand to signal for attention, the vampire interrupted the Slayer in mid-flow, "I want to go to L.A." Three pairs of startled eyes focused on them. One pair quickly narrowed in annoyance.

"Excuse me?" Buffy didn't sound at all happy at having her little tirade interrupted.

Giles was more succinct. "Out of the question."

Spike held on to his temper...just. "Why? It's not like I can hurt anybody. I'm the one most likely to get done over. Probably get bloody mugged or something."

"So, why go?" asked Buffy.

Spike glared at her. "Because that's where your soddin' ex is holed up and I need him to do something for me."

The Slayer flinched at the mention of her ex-lover but recovered quickly. She gave a mocking little laugh. "Angel, help you? Why on earth would you even th"

Spike cut her off, "He will."

"Whether he will or he won't isn't really the point," said Giles testily. "Though I must say, I tend to agree with Buffy that it would seem highly unlikely. The main issue is just how did you propose getting there?"

"Xander."

Xander blinked sharply, someone had said his name. Xander glanced up and to his dismay discovered everyone was looking at him. (Damn). He managed a less than intelligent "Wha-?", before Buffy jumped back in.

"Xander has just got rid of you. There is no way he'd agree to drive you to L.A."

(L.A?) Xander stared at the others a touch wildly. He was completely lost. His question was to no-one in particular. "What's in L.A?"

"Angel." Buffy and Spike both glared at one another.

"A-Angel? Why do we want to go see him?" In his bewilderment Xander addressed Spike directly.

Fortunately the 'we' was misconstrued by Buffy. "*We* don't," she said "Spike seems to be under the rather entertaining delusion that Angel would be willing to help him."

"I don't need his soddin help," said Spike angrily. "I just want him to do something for me."

"Help you." Buffy repeated, smiling at the vampire with false sweetness.

Spike ground his teeth. Xander was looking at his lover, hoping for some kind of a clue as to what was going on here. Spike either had the same idea or he sensed Xander's agitation from across the room. Blue eyes suddenly stared very intently into bewildered brown ones - their message was clear and urgent - say *yes*.

"Okay," said Xander.

"What?" Giles sounded taken aback. Buffy looked nonplussed. Giles' frown deepened as he turned to the youth. "Xander, you are under no obligation to-"

"I know," Xander interrupted. "I don't mind." He glanced at Spike who was glowering at him. Xander was confused until he realised that his inexplicable willingness to assist the vampire would be viewed with deep suspicion by his friends. He tried to cover himself, "Hey. I mean this is L.A. Clubs and girls and...er girls." The looks he received from both Slayer and Watcher suggested they'd fallen for it. (Yep. That's me, 'Mr Shallow'. Lap it up guys.) Xander thought a touch bitterly.

"What about your work?" the Watcher asked, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

"Oh, they owe me some time off. I can clear a few days with them, no problem." Xander decided now was not the time to mention that he had lost 'said job' nearly a week ago. Xander was still trying to work out what was going on here. He wasn't all that thrilled with the idea of paying Angel a visit, but getting Spike alone for *any* length of time sounded pretty good.

"Well..ah...what about transport?" Giles appeared to be given the proposal serious consideration. Either that, or the Watcher was fishing for reasons why they couldn't go.

"I have a car," Xander admitted. "I bought it off my Uncle." He hadn't actually had much of a choice; his Uncle had wanted to off-load it onto to someone, Xander had some cash saved and his parents 'persuaded' him it that would be a good buy. They hadn't been troubled by its unroadworthy condition, or that Xander had been saving up his money to purchase a T.V and a new stereo.

Xander had managed to persuade an acquaintance with a truck to tow it home when it inevitably broke down - blew up would be more accurate. Xander had spent some of his recent funds on spare parts and Spike had been tinkering with it. Amazingly it now ran with something close to a normal engine noise. It was even possible that it would manage the proposed trip to L.A.

"Well in that case perhaps-"

Buffy rounded on her Watcher. "He's not going."

Xander and Spike both glared at her, neither certain as to who she meant by 'he' and not caring for her high-handed manner one way or the other.

"Look, if it'll get Spike out of your way for a while, what's the big deal here?" Xander asked. "I mean, come on. Let Deadboy pick up the plasma tab for a few days."

The idea was evidently having increasing appeal with the Watcher. Giles' expression suggested he was envisioning Spike-free days and nights. No more nauseating television programmes, no scuff marks on his table, no weetabix crumbs down the back of his couch, no blood congealing in one of his favourite mugs. "Well if you're sure that you don't mind?"

"Giles!" Buffy clearly couldn't believe that her Watcher was even entertaining the idea.

Giles winced slightly beneath her steely-eyed disapproval. "Please, Buffy. I know that sanctioning such a trip seems somewhat.. ahm... unorthodox. However, I have to point out that we did make a deal. We agreed to explore all possible avenues in assisting Spike regain his.. er.. potency."

Spike glared at the Watcher with an intense loathing that didn't bode well for Giles should the vampire's 'potency' ever be restored.

"I know," said Buffy reluctantly.

"Angel may well have resources at his disposal that we do not. It would make sense for us to utilise them." Giles' argument was a reasonable one and even through her displeasure Buffy could see the point he was trying to make. She looked at Xander.

Xander shrugged. "I really don't mind, Buffy. Hey, whatever gets rid of him quicker, right?" The youth indicated Spike with a nod of his head. The vampire smirked.

Buffy relented unwillingly. "Okay, but someone will have to ring Angel first and warn him that he's about to have a visitor." Her tone said that 'someone', would not be her.

"I will," Giles offered after a short awkward silence.

Buffy smiled at him gratefully. "Thanks, Giles."

The two shared a look of warm understanding. Spike rolled his eyes. "Look people, I hate to interrupt the 'hearts and flowers' moment, but can we bloody well get on with it." The vampire enjoyed the flush which stained both their cheeks.

Scowling the Watcher went to the phone. Buffy wandered through into the kitchen. Xander took the opportunity to have a discreet word with his lover. "Why *do* you want to go to L.A?" he asked in a low whisper. Spike detected a touch of jealousy in Xander's tone. "Because, pet, he's my Sire."

"So?"

"*So*, he can help us."

"By getting the implant out of your head?" Spike's reply was unintelligible. "What?" Xander frowned.

The vampire was saved from having to repeat himself when Giles gestured him to come to the phone. "Angel wants to have a word with you."

Spike reluctantly took the receiver and spoke softly into it. "Angel, it's Will."

Giles raised his eyebrows. The blond vampire listened in silence for a few moments before handing the receiver back without saying goodbye. A short while later the Watcher replaced the handset and turned to address Xander and Buffy - who had wandered back to join them. "It seems that Angel is agreeable to Spike joining him in L.A."

"What about me?" asked Xander anxiously.

"What? Oh, yes, the both of you," said Giles.

Xander didn't know how to take that. So, Angel didn't seem to mind putting him up for a few days, that was probably good. Of course, Angel didn't know that he had been playing a pivotal role in Xander's wet dreams as of late. Xander didn't want to even *think* about the possibility of Angel finding out. It shouldn't be a problem. They were definite night-time guys, right? So when he was humping the mattress, Spike and Angel would be hitting the streets. No chance of Deadboy hearing him call out anything indiscreet in his sleep. Xander's mind back tracked. Spike and Angel - going out - together - Okay, this was *not* good. He jumped when Spike slung a companionable arm about his shoulders.

"Pack your bags. It looks like were off to L.A." The vampire smiled triumphantly at the Slayer, who stared hatefully back.

Xander didn't require much in the way of acting ability to convey his own mixed feelings.

Part Seven

The journey to L.A. was tense, to say the least. Spike refused to say exactly why he wanted to see Angel and Xander refused to discuss his troubles at home, both resented the other's reticence. They passed the trip in an awkward, angry silence. Finally, they entered the city. With Spike's terse directions it didn't take them long to locate the large, gloomy building bearing the sign - 'Angel Investigations'.

Spike insisted that they leave the car in an unlit alley around the back. Xander was far from happy, "This is L.A. It'll be *parts* three hours from now." Spike ignored him. The vampire walked toward the sewer entrance at the mouth of the alley. Crouching down beside it, Spike slid off the cover. Xander had followed the vampire but once he saw what Spike was doing he took a step back. "No way," Xander shook his head. "I am *not* going down there."

"Will you give it a rest," Spike snapped. The vampire was on edge at the thought of seeing his Sire, coupled with the less than pleasing prospect of having to explain his 'little situation' to Angel. He looked up at Xander; the youth had adopted a defiant stance - legs slightly apart, arms folded, mouth set in a hard line. Spike stood and walked around the opening; as he reached Xander the youth took another step back. Spike smiled tightly, "Last chance, pet."

"No," said Xander.

Spike shrugged, carefully picked Xander up and dropped the youth down the hole. There was a yell and a splash followed by a string of expletives.

Spike grinned, at least the implant didn't stop all his fun. He crouched back down beside the sewer opening. "Well, I'm shocked. I never knew you knew such language, pet." Xander's reply elicited a surprised laugh from the vampire. "Do you even know what that means?" Xander told him in no uncertain terms. Spike looked mildly impressed. "I guess you do." The vampire jumped down into the tunnel to join his incensed lover, reaching up to drag the cover back over the opening. The tunnel was plunged into inky blackness and Xander's curses abruptly broke off. "Spike?" the youth whispered softly.

"Here." Spike reached for Xander's hand.

Xander jumped as icy cold fingers brushed his skin. "Don't *do* that."

"Sorry." Spike sounded anything but apologetic, there was laughter in his voice. However, the vampire waited patiently until Xander located him in the darkness and latched on to his arm. "Okay now?" he asked.

"No," Xander grumbled. "Why are we in a sewer? I thought Angel was expecting us."

"*He* is, but he'll be less than pleased if we spring ourselves upon the Irish git or the girl."

"Girl? Oh Cordy, right. Who's the 'Irish git'?"

"Some guy who has visions."

"Visions?"

"*Yes*. Now are we done with the soddin' questions, only I thought you wanted to get out of this bloody tunnel?"

"I do," said Xander, he hesitated. "Er, Spike?"

The vampire gave a muffled curse. "*What?*"

"If they don't know that you visit Angel. That would mean that they don't know that you and he...?"

"No."

"Oh." Xander found himself wondering how on earth Angel kept it a secret. Spike was quite...well....vocal. Was that a Spike thing or a vampire thing? Did they have to gag each other? Or did they just send Cordy and the vision guy out for a really long lunch? Xander's mind began to entertain thoughts of Angel and Spike together in various... ..ah...'situations'. (Okay, bad idea. Think.. demons....ooze...slime....Angel licking Spike's-*NO*! Bad. Very bad.) Xander groaned inwardly.

"You alright, pet?"

Belatedly, Xander realised that while all he could see was empty black nothingness, Spike was gazing at him with glowing cat-like eyes. "Fine," he muttered. "Let's just get this over with." Despite the fact that he couldn't see, Xander tried to walk away. He was stopped by a hand on his arm. Unnaturally cold fingers clutched him tightly, the chill seeping through the thin cotton of his jacket and the shirt beneath it. Xander shivered, then jumped as Spike's other hand grabbed the back of his neck.

Powerful fingers held him fast, Xander opened his mouth to speak but was silenced as cold satin lips closed over his. The kiss had a frenzied desperation to it; Spike thrust against Xander, sending the youth stumbling backward into the wall. Xander winced as the jagged brickwork dug painfully into his tender flesh but he didn't try to twist away. He ignored the stinging hurt and surrendered himself wholly to the kiss - a willing sacrifice to Spike's wordless claiming.

For a brief moment the silence of the tunnel was broken by the rough rasp of denim, the slap of leather and the quiet urgency of duelling lips and tongues. Spike ended it finally. The vampire paused, his lips still resting against Xander's. "Remember that," he said cryptically. Xander felt the words tingle against his kiss-bruised mouth. Then Spike drew back, threading icy fingers through Xander's, before turning and carefully leading the way through the tunnel.

Dazed from the kiss, Xander stumbled after him, futilely trying to see in the blackness. As they turned sharply, entering a second tunnel, Xander found he was able to make out shapes in the shadows; the darkness here wasn't quite so...dark. They wandered on a while longer, then Spike released him. The vampire nimbly climbed up some metal rungs set into the wall. Spike used his fist to bang loudly on the trap door above his head. The pounding reverberated around them. "Discreet, much," Xander muttered sarcastically.

Spike heard him. "Is it my fault the soddin' poof likes to bolt his door." The vampire turned his glare back to the trapdoor. "Come on you flamin' nancy. Open up." Xander was about to say something when there was the scrape of a bolt being slid back and the trapdoor suddenly swung open. The result was a small square of very welcome light, Xander resisted the urge to rush at it; Spike squinted and turned his face away. Grumbling and muttering the vampire disappeared up through the opening. Xander followed, instinctively reaching for the hand that pulled him up, flinching when he saw who it belonged to. "Angel," he said awkwardly, pulling his hand free. Xander looked for his lover. Spike stood to his right - the image of unruffled apathy. Only Xander knew differently, he had learned to spot the danger signs and instantly recognised his lover's extreme agitation. Angel was.... well, inscrutable as always. (Nice to see you too Deadboy.)

"Hello, peaches," said Spike cockily.

"Spike." Angel grimaced, then turned to look at Xander, "Xander."

Not exactly a warm welcome, Xander mused, but then Angel wasn't exactly 'Mr Enthusive'... unless he was beating someone up. Xander nervously wondered if he was about to glimpse an enthusive Angel. Time to break the awkward silence. "So, Dea- Angel. This is your place?" (Great, start calling him Deadboy and maybe he'll just break your arms.)

If Angel was irritated by the near-mention of his old nickname he didn't show it. The vampire gave Xander a distracted nod before returning his attention to Spike. The blond was patting down his pockets looking for a smoke. Xander waited for the inevitable tantrum. Spike had apparently forgotten that Xander had confiscated the packet half-way through their journey, snatching them out of the vampire's hand and shoving them into his own pocket.

"Fuck."

Blue eyes glared at Xander with sudden realisation. Xander shook his head fondly and reached into his pocket to retrieve the cigarettes. Neither noticed Angel's confused frown as Xander handed them to Spike - who muttered a, "Cheers, pet." However, before Spike could light up Angel plucked the cigarette out of the younger vampire's hand. "Oi!"

"No smoking."

"Angel, come on. One smoke. It's not like it's going to kill you. *Angel.*"

Angel ignored his Childe's whining and walked through into the kitchen.

"Tea or coffee?"

Xander blinked. "Wha-? Oh, me. I.. er... I'll have coffee. Please. Thanks."

Xander bit his blundering tongue and followed Angel into the kitchen area. It was strangely warm and homely, Xander thought, for a vampire's underground lair. Numerous cooking utensils filled the shelves and poked out of pots that lined the back of the worktops. (Angel cooks???) Angel certainly made coffee. The vampire busied himself for a few moments before handing Xander a scalding cup of black. "Sorry, it'll have to be black," he apologised, "I keep forgetting to buy milk."

"No problem," said Xander, clutching his cup awkwardly. (Where the hell was Spike?)

As though answering his silent summons the blond traipsed sullenly through into the kitchen. "Don't see why I can't have a bloody smoke."

Angel settled his large frame into one of the wooden table chairs. Xander hastened to follow suit. Spike rebelliously slouched back against the work top. The dark haired vampire set his mug down on the table and fixed the blond with a cold stare. "Why are you here, Spike?"

"What? Can't a guy visit an old mate?"

"Spike." Angel's voice held a tone of warning, evidently the older vampire's patience had a very limited run where Spike was concerned. Spike peeled himself away from the worktop and dropped heavily into the chair at the end of the table facing his Sire. Angel's annoyance seemed to fade slightly as he took in his Childe's unhappy form. "What sort of trouble are you in now?" he asked.

Xander fought down an insane urge to giggle. Angel sounded so much the world-weary parent addressing his recalcitrant child. Which, Xander supposed, in a bizarre way he was.

Spike offered his Sire an uncomfortable smile. "No trouble, pet. Just a bit of a situation."

Angel seemed to be considering whether or not he actually wanted to hear this. He glanced at Xander, who shrugged a touch helplessly. Xander still wasn't sure why they were here. It seemed highly unlikely that Spike had come to make a confession. Another hysterical giggle bubbled up, as Xander wondered if he was about to be introduced as Spike's intended. Would that make Angel his future father-in-law? The laughter made a rapid exit as Xander suddenly had the horrible feeling that was exactly what Spike was about to do. He tried and failed to meet his lover's eyes as Spike began his halting explanation.

The younger vampire didn't stay seated for very long and the other two watched as Spike paced wildly back and forth across the floor, his voice rising and his language growing increasingly colourful as he told his Sire what those - "Fuckin' bleedin' nancy soldiers" - had done to him. Spike ended his tirade suddenly, growling low in the back of his throat; he spun around, venting his frustrations upon a defenceless kitchen cupboard - driving his fist straight through the wooden door. Spike didn't seem to notice the rivulets of blood running down his wrist; he stood, panting, in full vamp face.

Angel was on his feet in an instant, but Xander was closer and as the youth stood up his chair blocked the older vampire's path. So it was Xander who reached Spike first - gently easing his hand out of the shattered wooden door, and it was Xander who led his lover over to the sink and carefully began picking out splinters. Angel stood behind them, baffled by this strange behaviour. Eventually, Xander returned Spike to the table and resumed his place beside him. Angel walked around behind his Childe to reach his own seat. The older vampire let his hand linger against the back of Spike's neck before he moved away and sat down.

"I'm sorry, Will," Angel said softly.

It was clearly on the brink of Spike's lips to make some stinging retort, but faced with Angel's sincere compassion Spike slumped in his seat. "I'm alright." The words were ringed with an uncertain defiance. Xander wanted to reach out and take hold of one of Spike's hands. The long white fingers were trembling slightly, though probably more with rage than anything else.

"What do you want me to do?" Angel asked.

Spike's mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "Don't worry. I don't expect you to help me get it out. I wouldn't want to compromise your bleedin' morals."

Angel met Spike's sneering look without flinching. "I'll look into it."

Xander saw Spike twitch slightly. Evidently the younger vampire hadn't expected Angel's assistance. Xander frowned, if Spike hadn't believed Angel would help him with the implant then why were they here?

Spike was staring at the table top. "Thanks," he muttered ungratefully. The gratitude was in the vampire's cold blue eyes when he looked up at his Sire.

Xander felt a stab of hurt at the obvious empathy that passed between the two. It made him painfully aware of his outsider status. Xander knew that he was witnessing a bond that had been created more than a century before his own birth. Xander's breath hitched sharply. It didn't go unnoticed. A pair of dark brown eyes beheld him closely, concern and curiosity in their depths. Xander wanted to say something to break the tension but he didn't trust himself to speak. A cold hand settled over his and he glanced up surprised.

"You okay, pet?" Spike asked.

The vampire's expression was tender and Xander felt a warmth spread through his chest knowing that this look was for him and him alone. He nodded. "Sure." He indicated his mug, "Hot coffee." He knew the excuse was lame, the coffee was cooling rapidly and he hadn't even sipped it yet, but Spike nodded, accepting it - letting Xander off the hook with his dignity intact.

Angel cleared his throat. "So, Spike. Have you got something else to tell me?"

Xander heard the puzzled amusement in Angel's voice and he blushed hotly. He tried to squirm his hand free from under Spike's. The blond vampire merely tightened his hold.

"We're together. Do you a problem with that?" Spike's shot his Sire a challenging stare.

Angel shook his head. "No. Not unless Xander does?" He looked at the youth questioningly.

"Me?" Xander shook his head. "No.. I-I mean...I'm fine with it." He wanted desperately to crawl under the table.

From Angel's expression it was impossible to tell if the vampire had accepted Xander's stammered declaration as the truth. Those impenetrable dark brown eyes locked with Spike's. "How did this happen?"

Spike shrugged. "We kind of fell in together."

"Because of the implant?" Angel asked.

"Sort of." Spike didn't look very happy with where the conversation was going. Neither did Xander.

"Sort of *how*?" Angel could be aggravatingly persistent and he was more than used to dragging information out of a reticent Spike.

"We had a run in with some guys."

"The soldiers?"

Spike released Xander's hand in order to run long white fingers edgily through his short hair. He ruffled up the blond waves and swallowed a few times before muttering, "Oenan," under his breath.

Angel's mild amusement blossomed into a full blown smirk. "Spike, Spike." The dark vampire shook his head gently and gave an exaggerated sigh. "I thought you'd learned your lesson with them."

Spike glared. "It wasn't me, you tosser. It was the boy."

Angel's amusement abruptly vanished. "Xander?" he asked. The blond gave a terse nod. Xander was staring mutely at the table top, his fingers clutching the edge so tightly they were almost as white as the vampires.

"Xander," Angel repeated. "Are you alright?"

"He's fine," Spike cut in. "I rescued him didn't I."

Angel frowned. "How?"

"What do you mean *how*? How do you bleedin' think!" Spike sneered in disgust.

"Xander?" The urgency in Angel's quiet voice finally broke through Xander's daze.

"Hmm?"

"With the Oenan. What happened - you're alright with it?" Angel pressed the youth for an answer. Spike stayed silent but he watched Xander closely and with a fierce protectiveness that didn't go unnoticed by the older vampire.

Xander had paled but he flushed pinkly as he spoke. "Yeah. I mean it wasn't fun...Well, some of it was...or at least it would have been, if they hadn't been watching..." Xander stopped when he realised that he was babbling without any real thought to what he was saying.

With difficulty Xander met Angel's steady gaze, surprised at the concern and compassion it held. He managed a nervous smile. "I'm fine with it, honest. I mean I'll be more than happy if I never see those guys again, but the whole other thing?" Xander gave Spike a warm look. "Yeah, I'm good with that." Angel held his gaze for a few moments more then nodded silently and looked back at Spike. Xander felt himself relax a fraction, (Okay, now that wasn't so bad) he thought.

Spike's face slipped back into its smooth human planes. "That's kind of why were here," he said. "He's fine with it. I'm fine with it. It's this fuckin' implant that's screwin' it all up." Angel arched an eyebrow queryingly but didn't say anything. Xander felt his tension return; his mind now rattling with half a dozen possibilities as to why Spike *had* brought them here.

Spike emitted a frustrated snarl and stood with such force that his chair was thrown backward. Xander jumped. Angel didn't bat an eyelid. The blond vampire resumed his pacing, hands bunched into tight, white fists. A stream of vitriolic abuse, directed toward those that had put him in this mess, poured from his mouth. Xander sat stiffly, unsettled by Spike's uncontrolled ranting.

Angel slowly unwound himself from his chair and stood up. He walked toward the younger vampire and succeeded in corralling Spike in one corner of the kitchen. Spike snarled viciously and spun around in full game face. Xander flinched instinctively, certain that Spike was about to attack Angel. The dark haired vampire didn't stand aside, he pressed closer and said something in a low voice that Xander couldn't quite make out, though he thought he heard a soft 'Will' in there somewhere. Spike stopped growling and stood, shaking violently.

"Xander?"

Xander almost missed Angel's soft summons. He stood up and hesitantly walked over to the two vampires. Angel moved aside to let him reach Spike. Xander looked at Angel, confused. Angel motioned that he should step closer, Xander did and suddenly found himself enveloped by a shivering Spike. Xander was at a loss, but wrapped his arms around his lover as best he could. Angel smiled and nodded approvingly before moving over to the fridge. Still bewildered, Xander continued to soothe his lover, keeping half an eye on Angel who was taking a bag of blood out of the fridge. Angel emptied the blood into a small deep bowl and came back to stand beside them. "Will," he called softly. Spike raised his head off Xander's shoulder. Angel held up the bowl of blood.

Spike pushed himself away from Xander in a manner that suggested he was mortified at having 'lost it' in front of his Sire and his lover. He all but snatched the bowl from Angel and downed it messily, the blood that escaped trickling in scarlet ribbons down his jaw and throat. When he was done he wiped his mouth across his sleeve and thrust the bowl back at Angel. "Pig's blood," he announced, "is fuckin' disgusting." Angel gave him a half-shrug which implied that he agreed.

Spike looked at them both sullenly. "Sit down," he snapped. Xander moved to obey but hesitated when Angel remained where he was. The older vampire gave Spike a long hard look. "Please," Spike mumbled. Angel sat and Xander gratefully sank back down into his own chair, his legs felt a touch shaky. Spike was still in game face but he seemed calmer, though he was staring at them both in a manner that made Xander very nervous. Finally, Spike's face shifted into its human planes. Blue eyes released Xander and focused solely on Angel. "I need you to do something for me," he said quietly.

Angel obviously had the measure of his Childe's tone as he nodded and simply said, "Name it."

"I want him," said Spike simply, "but this" - he tapped his head - "means I can't do him. Not the first time."

Xander was listening to all this in a stunned silence (Oh, god.) He suddenly had an inkling of where all this was leading.

Spike was staring at his Sire urgently. "I need you to do him for me. Be his 'first' for me." Spike's mouth twisted bitterly. "Bad enough that I can't friggin' hunt and kill for meself. I have to rely on their fuckin' charity. But this?!" He turned a pleading gaze onto Angel, dark blue eyes glittering with emotion. "I can't even satisfy me own lover. I can't take him like he wants to be took..." Spike broke off and looked away.

(Oh...my....god..) Xander let his head drop forward onto the table with a dull thump, then folded his arms over it, covering his ears. Xander had never wished so desperately for the spontaneous creation of a Hellmouth - just beneath his chair would be perfect. He heard muffled voices around him, but with his head buried beneath his arms, he thankfully could no longer hear what they were saying. (Okay. Any minute now I'm going to wake up. Any minute....Please?)

Part Eight

Xander thought he might be about to hyper-ventilate and in an attempt to calm himself down he began to count silently and slowly. He'd nearly reached three figures before he realised that something was different. Xander stopped counting and listened carefully, but could hear only the sound of his own harsh breathing, the muffled voices had fallen silent. Reluctantly, he lowered his arms and raised his head from the table.

Angel sat, leaning back in his chair, large hands cradling a cup of fresh steaming coffee. Another cup had been placed in front of Xander. The youth reached for it, wrapping his fingers around the smooth ceramic - drawing comfort from the near-scorching heat.

Of Spike, there was no sign.

Angel apparently had no difficulty interpreting Xander's frown. "I asked him to leave us alone for a while," the vampire explained.

"Why?" Xander asked sharply, his awkward embarrassment hiding itself behind an edge of anger.

"I wanted to talk to you," said Angel. "I need to know how you feel about this."

Xander snorted indelicately. His voice held a hint of hysteria, "Well, let me see. My vampire lover has just handed me over to the guy I used to think of as my worst enemy. Oh, yeah and this guy also hates my guts." Xander spat out the last part and looked away, staring down into his cup, seeing his distorted reflection in the dark liquid.

"Used to?" Angel asked mildly.

Xander peered at Angel from beneath his fringe. "Yeah, well. I did," he sighed heavily, "but I guess I don't anymore."

The corner of Angel's mouth twitched as though he was fighting a grin.

"Well, just for the record, I don't 'hate your guts' anymore either." He shrugged lightly. "I never actually did." Xander shot him a 'yeah right' look. Angel leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "I was jealous," the vampire confessed. "I didn't hate you. I admired your courage and your resolve." Angel's lips quirked into a half-smile. "Even if you were a mouthy little prick on occasion."

Xander's mouth fell open. He didn't know what startled him the most, the revelation that Angel didn't - and never had - hated him, the fact that the vampire had just paid him a compliment, or Angel's casual use of the word 'prick'. He picked one and ran with it. "You were jealous? Of me?"

Angel nodded reluctantly. "You're young and *alive*. You could walk with Buffy in the sunlight, eat ice-cream with her, sit with her in lessons, talk with her about music and stuff I don't even understand - teenage stuff." Angel's expression darkened. "I..I knew from the start that my relationship with Buffy was a mistake." Haunted eyes locked with Xander's. "I'm dead, Xander. I've been dead for over two hundred years. I exist only because of the demon that resides within me. I am bound to the darkness and it is bound to me. I have no business interfering in her life."

"She loves you," said Xander softly.

A flash of pain darted across Angel's face. "And I love her," he said hoarsely. "More than she will ever know. But I *have* to stay away from her. She has to live her life amongst the living."

Xander suddenly felt something he thought he'd never feel for the undead being before him - sympathy. Sympathy and compassion. Angel loved Buffy, you'd have to be an idiot not to recognise that. Xander had always thought Angel was being unnecessarily cruel by flitting in and out of Buffy's life and then disappearing altogether. Now he realised just how hard it had been for Angel to let go. Xander didn't know what to say. After a moment's awkward silence he decided, in the face of Angel's honesty, the least he could do was repay in kind.

"I envied you." Angel looked at him in surprise. Xander pressed on quickly before his courage could fail him. "I mean, you were this tall, dark handsome guy, with the air of mystery. I felt like a total nobody next to you. More than normal that is," Xander added.

"You're not a 'nobody', Xander," said Angel firmly.

Xander gave him a 'whatever' shrug and carried on. "I knew that with you around, Buffy wouldn't even notice me." His voice dropped. "Course, that was before I realised she'd never see me *that way*."

"She cares about you-"

Xander cut in, "-as a friend. Yes, I know." He smiled. "And believe me, it means a lot to have her *as a friend*. I get that now."

Angel smiled, the warmth reached his eyes and melted some of the sorrow residing there. "You've grown up, Xander Harris."

"Well, gee 'Dad', thanks," said Xander, with no trace of malice. He paused, then released his cup to hold out a hand. "So, friends?" he asked.

Angel looked taken aback but he quickly put his hand into Xander's. Xander held the cold fingers firmly and smiled. Angel matched his smile.

"Friends," the vampire said. They shook on it before snatching their hands back, both pleased and a touch embarrassed.

"Guess this means I'll have to stop bad-mouthing you," Xander teased. He blushed and ducked his head as he suddenly recalled some of the things he'd said about the vampire.

"Yeah," Angel dead-panned. "You know, if we cut out all the insults it's going to make for some *really* short conversations."

"Short is good," offered Xander. "It's concise. To the point....and we're leading up to something here aren't we?" He winced.

"I thought we might get straight to the point," said Angel.

"Me and Spike?"

"You, Spike...This."

Xander indicated himself and Angel. "This?" he asked nervously.

Angel nodded, "Forgive me when I say that I'm finding this a little hard to believe. It's just, I thought you bore something of a grudge against my kind - Spike in particular."

Xander didn't miss the slight warning tone in Angel's voice. He also hadn't missed the fact that Angel had made a point of identifying himself with Spike, the reason was very clear - we're vampires, he's my Childe, state your place and purpose, or back off. Xander swallowed hard. "I know it's a little weird," he chuckled awkwardly. "I mean it's seriously weird, but we really are together. I'm not sure how it works or why, but it does. I mean," he flushed, "he's not forcing me or anything, if that's what you're thinking."

"I wasn't," said Angel coolly. "I know Spike. That's not his way. He might trick, bully or manipulate you over other matters, but in relationships Spike is always pretty direct."

"So what's your problem?" Xander asked defensively. This probing was unsettling him, and making him think harder than he cared to about what *was* going on between him and Spike.

"My problem is - do you really know what you're getting into here? Spike is a vampire." Xander gave Angel a 'well duh' look. "A *soulless* vampire," Angel clarified. "He's also psychopathic and possessive. That's his nature. He might not mean to hurt you, but that doesn't mean that he won't." Angel lowered his voice. "I never *ever* meant to hurt Buffy and we both know how that turned out. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Xander suddenly had to put some space between him and Angel's intense gaze. He stood up and walked away, pausing at the end of the kitchen.

"Look, I can't pretend that I have your history with Spike. Okay, maybe you *do* know him better than me. I mean, you're his Sire. That's got to count for something, right?"

Angel's dark eyes registered a faint flicker of surprise that Xander knew anything about a Sire's relationship to his Childe. He hid it quickly and motioned for Xander to go on.

Xander took a deep breath. "Right. Fine. I still know *some* things about him and I know he cares for me in his own twisted soulless fashion and...I....I need that. Maybe that makes me nuts or weird, or in need of some serious shrink-time. I don't know." Agitated, Xander ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling it up wildly. "I just know that I want 'this', whatever it is. I want Spike."

"I can understand that," said Angel quietly.

"Can you?" Xander asked bitterly.

Angel smiled a touch sadly. "Yes."

Xander looked at the vampire closely. "Why did you turn him? He...told me a bit about it. He said that he thought you were going to kill him. I mean, really kill him, for good."

"I wanted him," said Angel simply. He looked at Xander, meeting the youth's hard stare. "I saw a beautiful sharp-faced street whore, with a savagery to rival my own. I wanted him in my bed and by my side, so I drank his blood and forced him to consume mine. I made him into a savage remorseless killer who could walk with me through all eternity. I condemned him to the unlife that is his eternal existence." Angel finished brutally.

"Why do you do that?"

Angel was bewildered by the exasperation in Xander's tone. "What?" he asked.

"Try to provoke people. Rattle on and on about how evil and unlovable you are," said Xander moving back over to the table.

"Because I was," said Angel.

"*Was* being the operative word here," Xander pointed out. "Was - as in past tense. Jeez, get with the picture. You are *not* him, believe me. I've met both of you, and you are most definitely *not* the same guy." Xander waved a hand toward the seated vampire. "You don't even dress alike. He dresses like some 70's gigolo. You, well, you have a little more class."

Angel looked down, taking in his dark slacks and soft navy blue jumper. Definitely *not* something that Angelus would allow himself to be seen dead in.....so-to-speak. He smiled and looked back up. "Thank you," he said.

Xander smiled back. "Don't mention it, but hey - you start wearing those leather pants again and I'm out of here."

Angel chuckled softy, he would never have thought that he could see laughter in anything surrounding 'Angelus', but Xander had helped him find it....and it felt good.

Xander sat back down. Angel sensed the curiosity emanating from the youth and he cocked an eyebrow at him. "What?"

Xander looked back at him steadily. "Spike, he...he said that you and him were kind of together." Angel schooled his features into a neutral mask.

"He told me about the business with the ring and...and afterwards..." Xander's voice trailed off.

Angel kept his expression blank. "Does it bother you?"

"That you're doing the whacky with my lover?" Xander shrugged. "It's weird, but on top of all the other weird stuff that's been happening to me lately...I guess I can deal."

"What about Dru?" Angel saw the youth twitch. "She's bound to resurface sooner or later," he warned gently.

"I know," said Xander softly, "and.. I...I'll deal when she does."

They both fell silent, taking a few halting sips of coffee, while the tension that had risen uncoiled around them. It wasn't quite a companionable silence, but it was close. Angel broke it. "You're right," he said.

"About what?" Xander asked nonplussed.

"Spike cares about you." Angel leaned forward, resting his forearms back on the table. "He'd never have brought you here otherwise."

"Do you mind?"

Angel shook his head. "No."

"But you don't want to do.. this." Xander turned pink as he spoke.

"I didn't say that," said Angel evenly.

Xander snorted. "You didn't have to. For a guy with so few facial expressions you're pretty easy to read."

"Am I?" The question was asked lightly, but something in that soft voice made Xander realise that he *was* addressing a vampire, and a very old and powerful vampire at that. "Perhaps you're not reading me as well as you think," Angel suggested.

"Maybe," Xander said softly. He suddenly found the table top immensely fascinating and he studied it intently, refusing to meet Angel's gaze. There was a slightly awkward pause and then Xander asked, "So, would you?"

Angel raised an eyebrow.

Xander swallowed hard, "I mean will you do.. it?"

"Are you sure it's what you want?" Angel asked quietly. It was impossible to read anything in the vampire's tone.

Xander nodded. "Yes. I..I want Spike." The youth's cheeks flushed crimson. "This.. this is the only way. I-I understand that."

"No one's forcing you, Xander. Don't feel that you have to do this for him."

Xander looked up from the table and met Angel's gaze. "I'm not. I'm doing it for me," he said simply. "I..I want him." His eyes pleaded for Angel to understand.

Angel did, but he wanted to be certain that Xander knew what he was getting into. "What Spike asked," he checked to see if he had Xander's full attention and continued when he knew he did. "It isn't unusual, not amongst our kind. We..." Angel stopped and bit his lip. Xander waited. Angel cursed his Childe and took the plunge.

"Vampires have very few inhibitions regarding sex, either in partners or practices. Gender isn't an issue. *Species* isn't really an issue. If it's physically possible a vampire will find away. Some do form monogamous ties, but it's unusual. However, deeper bonds exist between those who share blood. I...I sired Spike and Dru, so they are bound to me and to each other. In a way, I suppose you could say we are family and Vampire 'families' share things, including lovers. There's nothing uncommon in a Childe offering his Sire the first bite of the cherry, so-to-speak."

Angel definitely had Xander's full attention, though the youth looked flushed and ill at ease. Angel wasn't exactly comfortable either. Sitting down with Xander Harris, chatting about vampire sexual practices over a cup of coffee, wasn't how he'd anticipated spending this evening.

"But...but that's not what Spike is doing?" Xander eventually asked.

Angel didn't miss the faint edge of desperation in the youth's tone and spoke to reassure him. "No. Spike is possessive of his lovers. He guards them jealously, he always has. He wouldn't have brought you to me first." Angel chose to leave unsaid the possibility that Spike might have decided to share later. "He hates asking me for anything," Angel admitted. That much at least was true.

Spike had never liked asking Angelus for help and he appeared to be even more loath to approach Angel. Angel wasn't certain why, he knew there was more to it than simple pride, or Spike's stubborn nature. Spike had feared Angelus. His reasons for avoiding Angel were undoubtedly more complex. Angel sighed inwardly, his favourite Childe had always been a contrary creature.

"So, he's doing this because he wants me?" Xander asked carefully. Angel was troubled by the uncertainty in the youth's voice. Was it so hard for Xander to believe that any one would want him? Alright, so the youth had never faired all that well in that department, had it put such a huge dent in his self esteem?

"Yes, Xander. He's doing all this because he wants you. The question here is - what do *you* want? You say that you want him, but how much? Enough to bed your former enemy?" Angel could be as blunt as Spike when he wished, though he felt a decidedly un-Spike-like twinge of guilt at Xander's sudden flinch.

"I...I don't think of you that way any more." Xander held Angel's gaze determinedly. "I haven't for a long time. I think," Xander drew in a deep breath, "I *know* that was all just because of Buffy. Me liking her, her liking you. But that isn't there now. I mean," he added hurriedly," she still likes you. But I..I just like her as a friend. Nothing else."

The youth's gaze darted away briefly and then returned. "I...I'd like to, I mean I want to," he stammered shyly. "That is if you don't mind?"

Angel couldn't quite hide the smirk that settled on his face. "I'm sure I could cope with the hardship," he said dryly, enjoying the surprised flush that stole down Xander's throat as he let his eyes rake over the youth's body. He wasn't doing it to be cruel or to make Xander feel even more uncomfortable. Angel just wanted to make it clear to Xander that he did find the young man desirable and that this wouldn't be some sort of noble self-sacrifice on his part.

"Is that a yes?" Xander asked boldly.

Angel nodded. "That's a yes."

Xander released a shaky breath and wiped slightly damp palms off on his trouser legs.

Angel stood up. "I suppose we'd better let Spike back in."

Xander followed the vampire out of the kitchen. "Back in? Where is he?"

Angel stopped and smirked at Xander before dropping his gaze to the floor.

Xander looked down - at the trap door at their feet. "In the sewer?!"

"It's the only place I could be certain that he wouldn't eavesdrop," Angel explained. A savage amusement glittered in his dark eyes.

Xander took a step back. He had an idea that his lover wasn't going to be at all happy at being holed up in cold, damp, stinky sewer tunnel all this time.

He was right.

Spike practically shot up through the trap door. "About bleedin' time. What were you two nancies nattering about? My idea of a good time in L.A does not involve sitting in some soddin' sewer all bloody night."

"What's the matter, Spike? Getting propositioned by the rats?" Angel taunted.

Spike flipped Angel the finger and threw himself down onto the couch.

Somewhat gingerly, Xander took the place beside him. Spike looked back and forth between the youth and his Sire. "So?" he asked bluntly.

Xander's mouth had dried up, he looked up at Angel helplessly.

Angel stepped in smoothly. "We're agreeable to your proposal," he replied formally.

Spike tried to conceal his relief, but eyes betrayed him - they shone with emotion. He gave his Sire a discreet nod of gratitude then turned to look at Xander, who offered him a wobbly smile. Spike's delight faded slightly.

"You're sure?" he asked, concerned at Xander's continuing silence.

Xander finally found his voice. He nodded decisively. "I'm sur-" He never got the chance to finish as Spike cupped his face with both hands and kissed him so hard he quite literally saw stars. The vampire's tongue plundered Xander's mouth, moving slickly against his own. Angel no longer existed for either of them as the kiss went on and on. Neither noticed when, smiling fondly, Angel turned and walked away leaving them alone.

Part Nine

It was a slightly rumpled and somewhat abashed looking Xander who appeared outside Angel's office. He hovered awkwardly in the doorway. "I wasn't sure...I mean, is it okay to come up?" he asked.

Angel put down his book. The vampire had tried to lose himself within the crinkled yellow pages in a vain attempt to shut out the sounds of passion rising up from below. Angel had been seriously considering going out for a walk when they'd finally fallen blissfully silent. He smiled at Xander,

"Sure, come in. Everyone went home hours ago."

Xander stepped into the office, grinning sheepishly. "I.. er.. I'm sorry about.. ah...that." Xander was pretty certain that it wasn't proper etiquette to make out on your host's couch, especially when said host was around to witness it.

Angel didn't look bothered. "Don't worry," he said, "I'm used to it. Discretion and Spike don't exactly go hand in hand." They shared a knowing look and both smirked slightly as Spike entered the office. The vampire's short hair was in violent disarray, bleached-white waves standing up in all directions. He threw a glare at his Sire and dropped heavily into the chair in front of the desk. Spike swung his legs up, resting his battered muddy boots on the woodwork.

Angel's smirk disappeared behind a frown and he leaned over the desk to push Spike's feet to the floor. Angel stared hard at his unruly offspring, who glowered back defiantly. Xander was beginning to feel like the oldest person in the room.

Angel's gaze narrowed, his sharp eyes spotting something. The vampire's annoyance fled as the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement. Spike frowned, puzzled and suspicious at his Sire's sudden return to humour.

Angel let his gaze drift nonchalantly around the room as he leaned back in his chair, at the same time he discreetly - but deliberately - stroked the fingers of one hand over the lower part of his face. Spike's frown deepened. The younger vampire mimicked his elder's actions and his puzzlement was replaced by a smug smile as his sensitive fingers encountered something. The blonde's smiled broadened into a grin as he wiped away the faint traces of Xander's spent passion.

Xander had watched the silent exchange with some confusion. He caught on and blushed furiously.

"So," Spike drawled. "We going out then or what?" The other two stared at him silently. "Come on. We're in L.A. We should be out havin' fun, not sat around here moping." The vampire's gaze turned inward as he continued in a maudlin tone, "I haven't been out for soddin' ages. I'm lucky if that git even lets me get out of the bloody bath."

Angel's eyebrows crept up toward his hairline with that last remark.

Xander mouthed - 'long story' - and the older vampire wisely chose not to ask. Spike carried on with his litany of complaints. "....no music, no dancing, no drinking. It's like being in a bloody monastery, but less fun. I need to go out. I want some action." Spike snapped out of his funk and stared at them both intently. "Plus, you two could do with a few drinks. You need to lighten up a bit."

Angel looked as though he was considering the idea. Xander looked somewhat unhappy about it. "I...umm...didn't really bring any 'going out' gear," he admitted reluctantly.

"Not a problem." Spike stood, slinging an arm around Angel's broad shoulders. "Peaches has more clothes than a bloody girl. He can lend you something."

Xander tried not to look too hopeful. Angel glared at Spike, pulling away sharply. The older vampire eyed Xander critically. "You've filled out a bit. I should have something that will fit." Angel turned a cool smile upon his Childe. "You can borrow something as well."

"I am *not* wearing one of your poncy outfits." Spike protested.

Angel was unrelenting. "It won't kill you to lose that shirt and T-shirt for one night and you can clean your boots." Spike's mouth fell open but nothing came out. "There's some cleaning stuff under the sink," Angel finished.

Spike found his voice. "Piss off." He was virtually bristling. Xander hid a smile behind his hand. He knew who had his winning bet for this argument.

"If I have to go out with you," said Angel calmly. "The least you can do is scrape off some of that sewer muck."

"And who's fuckin' fault is it that I smell like a flamin' sewer!" Spike's eyes glittered gold.

"Will, get cleaned up." The softness of Angel's voice did nothing to disguise the implicit threat behind it. Xander watched in disbelief as Spike stormed off, muttering and cursing under his non-existent breath.

Angel walked after him. "I'll find you something to wear," he told Xander. "You can have a shower if you like, I'll get you a towel."

"Thanks," Xander called after Angel's retreating back. He hurried to catch up with the vampire. Xander was beginning to understand how Alice felt when she fell down that rabbit hole (and I thought my life couldn't get any weirder.)

--------------------

Xander exited the shower in a cloud of steam and spent several minutes cursing the absence of a mirror. He managed as best he could and emerged from the bathroom reasonably well-groomed. Xander paused just outside the doorway, feeling a touch exposed with only a towel to preserve his modesty. The cool air raised goosebumps along his bare skin. Neither Spike nor Angel were in sight, but Xander could hear muffled voices.

He padded barefoot over to the bed, where Angel had said he'd leave out the clothes. Xander gaped at what the vampire had left for him. The soft looking black slacks were casual but obviously expensive; however, it was the shirt which really held his attention. Xander guessed that it was real silk, a rich wine-coloured red, it shimmered in the muted lamp light. Xander touched it, the shirt felt even softer than it looked.

Panic suddenly clawed at Xander. What was the hell was he doing? He was Xander Harris, officiated member of the Scooby gang, slayerette of vampires and other nasties that go bump in the night. Now he was borrowing their clothes and planning nights on the town? Something was most definitely *not* right here. He was losing it, that had to be it. All these freaky goings on had finally proved too much and he had snapped. It was one bump on the head too many for good old Xander.

(What else can it be?) he asked himself. A sound alerted him and Xander spun around. Whereupon his mouth fell open. (Well, gee) he thought sarcastically (What else *could* it be, Xander.)

Angel was wearing a pair of dark trousers similar to the ones on the bed. He had teamed them with a silk shirt in a deep garnet red and a black leather coat. Xander's stunned gaze slid away from Angel to travel the length of his lover, where it lingered longingly. Spike had cleaned up *very* nicely. The blond vampire had kept his black jeans and boots - now neatly polished - plus his somewhat battered duster. However, it was the shirt he'd borrowed from Angel that made Xander's mouth run dry. It was black satin, sleek and slippery looking; it moulded itself perfectly to the contours of Spike's hard lean frame.

Spike settled himself on the end of the bed. "Come on, pet. We're wasting serious drinking time here. Get your kit on."

"Huh?"

Angel was bemused but he'd picked up on Xander's embarrassment and told them that he'd wait upstairs.

--------------------

Spike nodded approvingly as Xander finished fastening the last few buttons on his borrowed shirt. "You look good," he commented.

"I do?" Xander wished he had a mirror. This felt even better than the tux he rented for the prom. He felt....well...in a word, sexy. Spike evidently shared that feeling as the vampire stood up and rubbed against him.

"Hmm," Spike purred against Xander's ear. "Delicious, pet." To Xander's disappointment the vampire then stepped away. "We'd best not keep peaches waiting," Spike explained as he walked off. "Or he'll settle down with one of his bloody books and a mug of cocoa." Xander grinned and followed his lover.

--------------------

Spike took them into a run-down part of the city littered with derelict buildings and late night liquor stores. They turned down a dark narrow, alley. It was eerily quiet and Xander felt slightly uneasy, despite being flanked by two vampires. This wasn't anything like what Xander had been expecting - not that he'd really had any idea what to expect. There were no lights, no sounds escaping out onto the street, nothing to indicate the presence of a club. There was just a plain grey door with two *extremely* large demonic-types standing in front of it.

(Interesting choice in doormen) Xander mused silently. Though if the clientele lining up outside were an example of the club's usual crowd, the doormen's outlandish size probably came in very handy. The queue that stretched down to the end of the alley was definitely not your usual club mix....unless it was Halloween. Except these weren't costumes - every horn, scale and inexplicable bulbous bit was a bona fide demon part.

"A demon club. Well, I'm going to blend *right* in," Xander muttered under his breath.

Angel placed a heavy hand upon Spike's shoulder when it looked like the younger vampire was about to push his way to the front of the queue. Spike reluctantly let himself be steered to the back. The blond searched fruitlessly through his pockets. "Fuck. I need some smokes."

"Get them inside," said Angel.

Spike gave him a scornful look. "Do you know the kind of crap they sell in here? Look, wait here while I nip and get some." He walked off. After a few paces he turned and came back. His face bore an irritated expression as he stared at Angel. "I.. er.."

Angel sighed and put his hand into his pocket, pulling out a handful of crumpled notes, Spike all but snatched them from him. "I want the change," Angel called after the departing blond.

"Yeah, whatever," said Spike. A moment later he'd disappeared around the corner of the alley.

Xander and Angel waited in a slightly awkward silence as the queue slowly shuffled forward. Xander berated himself (Well, it would appear that you have been struck with a terrible affliction. You have completely lost the ability to make meaningless conversation. You are doomed.) He stared woefully at the mouth of the alley, wishing Spike would reappear.

The queue continued to move forward at a painful pace - the doormen vetting each would-be clubber carefully. (Xander wondered what on earth they classed as an undesirable.') There was still no sign of Spike and Xander was getting anxious. "What if he's in some sort of trouble?" he asked Angel.

"Spike can handle himself," Angel assured him.

Xander shook his head, his voice low and urgent. "Not with humans. The implant, remember?"

Angel looked disturbed by the reminder. "Come on," he said. Xander needed no second bidding as he followed the vampire out of the alley.

Part Ten

Trouble had indeed found Spike, or was just about to, as he exited the late-night corner store. A group of twenty-something's, much the worse for their night's activities, were milling about on the sidewalk. They were trying to scrounge together enough funds for more drink. Head down counting his change, Spike didn't side-step to avoid colliding with one of the group - who rebounded off the vampire as though he'd hit a wall.

Irritated, Spike snapped off a retort without thinking. Drunk number one took offence at the remark as did his closest friend, drunk number two. Both took a swing at Spike. The vampire ducked the first blow easily and instinctively blocked the second. As his arm powered forward and connected with the young man's fist, a bolt of blinding agony exploded through his head.

(No!) Spike shouted in silent protest. (I'm not attacking the bastards. I'm defending myself!) The implant was cruelly indifferent to his cries, sending shards of agony shooting through his skull. Angry and half crazed with pain, Spike reacted the only way he knew - with extreme violence. He struck out blindly and his fist hit something with a very satisfying crunch of bone and gristle.

Unfortunately, his unthinking savagery only compounded his torment sending fresh shrieks of agony splintering through his skull. Tears pricked his eyes and Spike stumbled to his knees clutching his head. Drunk number one had fallen back when his friend's nose burst open beneath Spike's fist. The young man was confused by Spike's sudden collapse but took advantage, planting a vicious kick against Spike's ribs.

Spike growled as the demon within him howled in rage. His face shimmered and shifted into its true form. His attackers were too drunk to care or notice. More blows followed, clumsy and uncoordinated but brutally effective. Spike tasted blood as a ring sliced into his cheek. The vampire barely felt the pain of the boots and fists that rained down upon him; it was lost amidst the streaks of white hot agony that resonated through his head. Every time he tried to push one of his attackers away a new stab of pain sheared through him and he fell back.

Spike was driven down. He curled up, his hands holding his head protectively, cheek pressed against the cold concrete. The vampire could smell oil and gasoline, bubblegum and the sourness of the street itself. (Fuck) was his last coherent thought as a boot connected solidly with the back of his skull and a veil of darkness descended over him.

--------------------

Angel saw them first - a small group of shouting, jeering youths staggering about drunkenly beneath a spluttering street lamp. As they stumbled back and forth, they formed a broken ring around something lying on the sidewalk. It took Angel a brief moment before his eyes picked out the prone figure at their feet. He focused on a black shape and a very familiar white-blond head.

His demon roared in rage and anguish and Angel's eyes gleamed gold as his vampiric nature took hold. He raced across the road, coat tails flapping like the wings of an angry bird. The vampire plucked the two closest drunks off the ground as though they were made of paper. One was thrown into the road while the other bounced off the street lamp and collapsed back onto the sidewalk, blood streaming from his face.

Xander had struggled to keep pace with the vampire and reached the end of the street in time to see the two man sail through the air. He watched in horror, his eyes following one victim as he crashed back to earth. Then Xander's gaze caught on another shape huddled on the ground - a slender form, wrapped in an old black duster - a red mist enveloped him and he rushed across the road to join the fray.

As soon as he reached them, Xander knocked the closest drunk to the ground. The man wasn't so far gone that he couldn't recognise the crazed fury on Xander's face and he crawled away as fast as his unsteady limbs would carry him. Xander grabbed the next nearest and spun him around before flooring him with a neat right cross. Xander followed his victim down and continued to pummel him - feeding the white hot rage flowing through his veins.

"Xander....Xander....You're killing him...Stop!"

Panting wildly, Xander finally registered that the voice belonged to Angel and he found himself being lifted off his victim. Xander looked down at the broken bloody figure at his feet, a strange numbness draining away his rage. Oddly, he felt no remorse and turned away coldly. All his concern was for Spike.

Angel also appeared to have regained some measure of control, though his features had settled somewhere between vampire and human and he kept his head bowed as he tended to his Childe. Fortunately, there were few onlookers and those that had chosen to stop and stare maintained a cautious distance. The drunks were either unconscious or had made a rapid exit.

With Angel's assistance Spike slowly sat up. He had a small cut to the corner of his mouth and another across his right cheekbone. When Angel touched the back of his Childe's head the older vampire's fingers came away sticky with blood. Whatever other injuries Spike had were hidden beneath his duster. The leather had probably afforded him some protection but from the number of dusty foot prints it bore he was probably pretty much black and blue.

White-faced and worried, Xander dropped to a crouch beside his lover. Spike winced and angrily shook off Angel's arm. He swayed and Xander reached out to steady him. Spike shoved the youth back violently, cursing when the implant reacted. "Fuck off," Spike snarled. "I don't need your soddin useless help." He staggered painfully to his feet and made his way back across the road, weaving slightly.

Angel helped Xander up. "He doesn't mean it," he tried to reassure the youth. "He's just-"

Xander waved him off. "I know," he said quietly and followed his lover across the road. Xander did understand, Spike's attitude hurt, but he accepted it. He knew how hard it was for his lover to be so helpless. He knew that Spike was uncertain and afraid and he knew that with Spike such feelings naturally expressed themselves as anger. Xander wasn't naïve enough to believe that when Spike said something hurtful the vampire didn't mean it. Spike meant every cruel and unkind word he said - that was his nature - but Xander was learning not to take those words too much to heart.

It was easier in theory than in practice but Xander was making a valiant effort. It helped when he recalled the things Spike said when he was in a good mood. Spike could be as silver tongued with his compliments as he was cutting with his insults. Such were the pro's and con's of dating an evil soulless undead guy, with a century or so's experience in flattery and cruelty.

Xander caught up with Spike at the entrance to the alley. The vampire had shifted back into his human visage and was trying to wipe the blood and dirt off his face. Xander approached cautiously until he was sure that he wouldn't be rebuffed. By the time Angel joined them, Xander was tenderly cleaning his lover's face with a large white handkerchief. Angel smiled as the youth tried to get Spike to spit on it.

"My gob's full of blood. You do it," said Spike.

Xander pulled a face.

Spike rolled his eyes. "Oh please, not the bleedin' hygiene thing again. I've had worse soddin' things on my face than your spit. Besides, it's not like I'm not intimate with your saliva." He leered at Xander who sighed and spat on the handkerchief. Spike continued as Xander carefully dabbed at the cut by his mouth. "Before any one asks, *no* we are *not* going home. Not until I've had a bloody drink." (and found a demon to beat to death) he added silently. He'd finally had enough of Xander's ministrations and he pulled away. "You done?"

"All spick span and ship shape," said Xander lightly. He frowned at the blood and dirt sodden hanky.

Spike made a disgusted sound and snatched it out of his hand, throwing it away. "Good, let's go then. It'll be soddin' morning before I get a drink"

He stalked off down the alley.

"You alright?" Angel asked as he melted out of the shadows beside Xander.

Xander twitched. "I'm fine." He managed a shaky smile. "Or at least I will be when my insides stop trying to crawl up out of my throat."

"Come on." Angel put an arm around Xander's slightly trembling shoulders. "It's just shock. You need a drink."

Xander allowed himself to be led back to the club entrance. Spike was waiting for them. "Will you tossers hurry up." The queue had all but gone, only a handful of demons were still waiting to be let inside. Spike was no longer in any mood to wait and he went straight up to the door. The doormen instantly moved to block his way. Spike didn't even break his stride, he shifted into his game face and hissed, the doormen stepped aside with surprising speed for creatures their size and Spike strode past them.

Angel and Xander were close on his heels. The doormen attempted to reassert their now somewhat dented authority. Angel looked faintly apologetic as he let his own vampiric nature surface - and the doormen stepped aside to let them through. Xander could hear them muttering after they'd gone past. "I don't think they liked us much."

"Vampires aren't popular in demon clubs," Angel explained.

"I wonder why," Xander muttered.

Angel caught the question but apparently missed the sarcasm. "Vampires like blood and they're not that fussy how they get it. They tend to start fights." Angel looked vaguely embarrassed. "I mean, so do other demons, but vampires tend to be a bit harder on the fixtures and furnishings."

Xander summed it up a touch more succinctly. "You trash places."

Angel shrugged. "Let's find Spike." He moved off and Xander fixed himself firmly to the vampire's side. Secretly, Xander was delighted with the vampires' subtle show of force. (Yeah, I'm hanging with the seriously cool crowd now.)

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