The Choice

By Esmeralda

Part Eleven

Snarling, Spike strained against Angel's hold; trapped by the knowledge that he'd be a fireball long before he could reach his lover. As soon as the bedraggled trio crossed the threshold, he tore free. Seizing Xander, he ran his hands over his body, searching for injuries. He could smell blood. Golden eyes glittered fiercely as they followed the welts and scratches. "Does anythin' hurt?" he demanded. Xander didn't reply. Spike slapped the boy's face lightly. "Oi, snap out of it. Are you hurtin' anywhere?"

"N-no," said Xander quietly.

An anxious Angel was checking out Doyle.

"I'm fine," Doyle assured him, "but I think the young lady's a bit shaken."

"I'm okay," said Willow in a detached voice. A thin line of blood trickled down her face from a small cut on her hairline. Her grazed hands had grit and dirt sticking to them.

"Come on," said Angel gently. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"You had spines," said Willow dazedly, looking at Doyle.

Doyle winced. "Yeah, I... er...do, now and then."

"And you were blue."

"Yeah, I do that too."

"Oh," she said simply. Angel led her over to the couch and sat her down.

Doyle retrieved the medical kit. Angel meticulously bathed the girl's cuts and scrapes, dabbing them with antiseptic cream. He smoothed the hair back from her face and put a band aid on the cut above her temple. As soon as he had finished, he turned to Doyle, who was wiping blood and grime from his own abrasions. Angel took the cloth and adopted the task.

Shaken, despite his claims to the contrary, Doyle gave himself over to his lover's tender ministrations.

Meanwhile, an agitated Spike fussed over Xander. Having cleaned off the dirt, he snatched up the tube of cream and ordered the youth to remove his shirt. Xander shrugged out of it with a sigh. The material was torn and frayed from being raked by the creatures claws.....two down....

Unfortunately, Xander had forgotten one or two not so minor points. Namely the semi-healed puncture wounds he'd carefully concealed beneath his collar, and the faded lettering scrawled across his chest. Anxious to ascertain her friend's well-being, Willow glanced across. She inhaled sharply, as her mouth fell open and she stared horrified.

"X-Xander?"

He suddenly realised what she had seen and tried to move away. Spike pushed him back onto the couch.

"Sit still. I haven't done yet."

Xander turned his face away miserably and tried to twist himself round, wanting to hide from Willow's alarmed gaze. Spike noticed her staring and growled.

Angel decided to intervene. He gently turned the girl's face away.

She pinned him with frightened eyes. "Did....did?"

"No," he told her quietly, "Spike didn't do that." He mentally crossed his fingers over the puncture wounds.

"Then, who....how?"

"We had some trouble," said Angel simply. "It's been dealt with."

Spike snorted. "It's bin fuckin' dusted." Angel shot him a warning look. Which Spike ignored. He was examining a shallow gash on Xander's chest. Finally, he drew back, satisfied all the scratches were superficial. (He'd given the whelp worse during several of their more...ah...'vigorous' sessions.)

Willow didn't look any happier.

Spike took off his duster and placed it around his lover's shoulders.

Xander slipped his arms into it with a grateful smile, hugging it around his chest.

Doyle closed the medical box. "So, I'm guessing the question is, was that just a chance attack or was hair-boy after summat special?"

"What sort of demon was it?" Angel asked.

"No idea, man," said Doyle. "Chakras have hair, but it didn't look like one of them, maybe a Muela?"

Angel shook his head. "This close to a town, unlikely." He looked at the others on the couch. "Did any of you notice anything else about it?"

"You mean apart from its huge snarly teeth?" said Xander. He frowned. "Yeah, it stank. I mean, *really* stank. B.O on the scale of champions."

"Grosga demon," Angel and Spike chimed together.

"A what?" asked Doyle.

"Carrion eater," said Angel.

"Fuckin' disgustin'," Spike added. "Dig up dead'uns and munch their rottin' parts."

"I think I speak for Willow here as well, when I say *eeww*," said Xander. "Can't demons have normal cravings? Like twinkies and candy bars?"

"A twinkie demon?" said Spike with a smirk.

"Now that's one I'd like to see," said Doyle. "800 pounds and covered in shiny wrappers, no doubt."

Willow wasn't quite following the bizarre humour. She stared worriedly at Xander. "You did a Buffy thing."

He looked at her. "Huh?"

"You broke it," she continued. "Like Buffy would have. Except...except, you're not Buffy. So you can't do that," her face crumpled, "but you did."

"Yeah," he said softly, "I did. I just pulled....." His voice trailed off and he swallowed hard. He turned to Spike. "What...What did I do?"

Doyle and Angel regarded him in silent sympathy.

Spike looked into his lover's face and tenderly touched the boy's cheek. "You broke the bastard's neck, is all."

Doyle added, "Something for which I, for one, am truly grateful. Seen'as how it was my throat it was lookin' to tear out."

"I...I couldn't do that before," said Xander in a frightened voice.

"Like I told you, pet. You're changin'," said Spike. "This comes with the territory. You gonna be all right with it?" The tone was casual, though it didn't mask the anxiety in blue-gold eyes.

Xander fastened his gaze on his lover's face and nodded. "I...I will be."

Spike smiled and kissed him.

Willow breathed in sharply.

He looked at her.

She stumbled off the couch. "I have to go, I...I have a class." Her momentum was stayed by Angel's hand.

"You can't go back alone. We don't know why that thing chose to attack in daylight, out in the open like that."

"You...you think it was the Sorcerer?" she asked him fearfully.

"Possibly. Where's Buffy now?"

Willow flushed unhappily and mumbled. "With Riley."

Angel stiffened slightly, but he merely nodded. "Okay, can you get in touch with her. I have my phone. Could you ring her?"

Willow shook her head. "They went for a picnic somewhere."

"Oh that's just great," said Spike. "We haul our arses to this piss-pot of a town to help her, and she's off playing 'hand-holdy' with the local dim wit."

Xander grabbed a short blond curl and pulled it - hard.

"Ow!" Spike glared. "What the fuck-?"

"-we're playing nicely with others, remember?" said Xander.

Willow's eyebrows lifted even higher as Spike muttered a sullen apology, before seating himself heavily on the couch beside Xander. She watched as her friend patted the vampire's thigh. Spike instantly lay his hand out, palm up. Xander put his over it, threading his fingers through his lover's. Her gaze softened slightly. It was such a little gesture, but it spoke of the intimacy the two shared. Something, until now, she'd been having trouble accepting.

Willow lived in a world where little gestures of her love were all she could ever show it. She could take the pages from other people's lives and read between the lines in the same way she worked her own. Just as a smile to Tara meant much more than just a show of happiness. This, to her, was a sign of Spike and Xander's closeness. Their fingers didn't remain still, but continued to stroke and touch, reassuring one another without words. Some of the fear and worry that had wrapped itself around her heart subsided slightly. Xander was happy. So she could be too.

Angel and Doyle were talking together. At length they turned to her.

"Doyle will drive you back to town. When you get there find Buffy, tell her what happened. Ask her to come up here tonight." He hesitated. "Ask if she can come alone. I...we need to talk."

Willow nodded. "I'll tell her, and I won't say anything about-" she broke off and blushed.

Angel smiled. "Thank you."

She smiled back. "I think it's good. I mean, I'm glad you're happy." She ducked her head and hurried over to the door. "Okay, ready now." She wanted to go before she exploded with embarrassment.

"Be careful, Will," Xander called. Spike simply nodded his head in silent affirmation.

She smiled at them both and stood waiting impatiently for her escort. A hot flush stole down her body when Angel tenderly tipped Doyle's head back and placed a firm kiss upon the young man's lips. She heard him whisper 'Be careful', and the answer of, 'Aren't I always'. From the look Angel gave Doyle she guessed probably not.

Doyle escorted her outside and they walked warily to the car. She sat in, as he went around the back and took something out of the boot. He held it carefully as he got in the driver's side, placing it down beside his seat. It was a loaded cross-bow.

"You can never be *too* careful," he said. "I hear these small towns can be rum places. Though I don't suppose that's true here?"

She blinked. Then she caught the teasing glimmer in his eyes. "Oh no," she said, joining in. "Sunnydale's a very quiet place. We don't have any trouble, nope. None at all."

They shared a grin which lessened the awkwardness between them, and drove back to that quiet looking place, otherwise known as Sunnyhell.

Part Twelve

After the excitement of the morning the rest of the day was uneventful. Angel paced anxiously until Doyle returned. Then he gave them each a number of books and instructed them to research anything connected to Grosga demons. Whether there were any previous records of attacks on living victims, and if so, had any of the attacks taken place in daylight, around human habitations. Angel phoned Cordelia to get her working on it too. Then he phoned Giles and had a lengthy chat based around the who's who of sorcerers.

Spike had little patience with book reading, but surprisingly he knuckled down with the rest. His argument being the sooner this fuck was dead, the sooner they could go back to L.A and sort out the important stuff. Like finding somewhere for him and Xander.

Doyle had returned with a few snack type goodies, and as the afternoon drew on, he and Xander broke off to recharge their batteries.

Spike joined Angel raiding the cool box for a packet of blood, amid much grumbling and complaining. "We have to stay 'ere much longer, we're gonna need some fresh supplies. I'm *not* drinkin' this swill if the fuckin' stuff's gone off," he growled.

"I'll see if Giles will agree to a temporary arrangement. He should be able to fix us up," said Angel.

"Oh, yeah," Spike sniped. "The bloody Watcher will only be too happy to help. Seein' as how he hates both our soddin' guts now."

"He wants us out of Sunnydale," said Angel flatly. "But I think he's accepted that if there's something going on, we have a part to play. He'll supply us, if the alternative means sitting back and watching while you
dine on the locals."

Spike grinned evilly. "Nowt wrong with that, mate. The only thing half these sad fucks is good for is feedin' off."

Angel narrowed his eyes at him. "You are not touching any one while we're in town. Of dubious character, or otherwise. Got it."

Spike remained sullenly silent.

"Let me put it this way," Angel hissed. "How happy do you think it'll make Xander if you start eating your way through his year-book?"

That got a reaction and Angel realised he'd made his point. The populace of Sunnydale were safe from Spike....well, reasonably.

Xander reappeared from one of the rubble strewn back rooms. "You know, far be it from me to complain about our luxurious surroundings, but we mortal types tend to miss those modern trappings. Like hot water, or even running water. Plumbing of any kind would be really nice right now." He ran a hand
through his hair. It felt lank and sticky. The heat of midday had left him hot and sweaty. He was loath to put on a fresh shirt when he felt so yuck.

Spike jumped up from the couch. "Get your kegs off," he said, pointing towards the boy's jeans. "I'll show you how we did it back in the bad old days."

Xander stared at him dubiously.

"Come on, shift your arse," said Spike.

Xander glanced at Angel, who simply smiled secretively. None the wiser, Xander went to get undressed. Spike came into the bedroom as he was removing his socks.

"Right, sit yourself down and don't bloody shift 'til I tell you." He pushed Xander back onto the edge of the bed. "Shut your eyes. Go on, shut 'em."

Xander warily shut his eyes.

"Keep 'em closed," said Spike.

Xander obeyed. He heard the sound of Spike starting up a fire; then the vampire left the room. He returned a few moments later and dropped something down heavily. It sounded metallic, other than that, Xander hadn't got a clue. Whatever Spike was doing it took quite some time, and a lot of coming and going. Xander heard the sound of water being poured, followed at one point by an exclamation and a loud curse, as Spike obviously spilt some.

He was beginning to shiver, despite the fire's comfortable heat, when Spike finally told him he could open his eyes. Xander did....and stared. In front of the fire was an enormous copper bath tub. Antique in style, it gleamed as if it were new. Spike saw his confused look and explained. "It wasn't like that when we first came up 'ere, but Peaches likes his home comforts, so he had me scrubbin' the soddin' thing out for him."

Spike's mouth twisted in bitter recollection. "Said I might as well make myself useful since I was sat around on my arse all day."

Xander wandered over to his lover and touched his arm gently.

Spike acknowledged his concern and gently brushed it aside. "I'm alright, I just forget now and then what a tosser the poof is without his fuckin' soul, that's all." He shrugged. "Now, you get your pretty arse in that tub, while I see if I can wrestle up some soap or summat."

Xander eased himself into the hot tub - utter bliss. It soothed the bruises and scratches from his earlier battle, taking away their itchy sting. He let his head sink back and sighed contentedly. Spike came back in carrying a small bottle. Xander looked at it questioningly.

"Oil's, oil, innit," said Spike. "What's the difference if it's bath oil or fuck oil."

Xander didn't really have an answer for that.

"Duck your head," Spike told him. "Best do that first, you won't want this stuff in your hair."

Xander ducked his head and ran his fingers through his hair, brushing out the dust and dirt. He resurfaced, and Spike uncorked the flask. The rich musky scent of oil reached out to him. Spike tipped a little into the water; it pooled in shiny amber globules. Xander swished his fingers through them, making the water feel slippery and oh, *so* good. Spike dipped his fingers into the water. He'd brought a cloth with him. "Sit up, pet. I'll do your back."

Xander drew up his knees and leaned forward. Spike rubbed the warm, wet cloth across his back in lazy circles. Xander made approving noises.

" 'Ere," said Spike, "shift up a bit."

"Hmm?"

Spike pulled the surprised boy to his feet. "Stay like that, and don't move or you'll slip."

Goosebumps speckled Xander's skin as he stood and waited.

Though not for long.

Spike shed his clothing in record time and got into the tub in front of Xander. "Right, sit your'sen back down. Careful." He eased the youth back into the tub. Water slopped across the floor as they arranged themselves. There was some shuffling before they got comfortable; face-to-face, with Xander sitting in Spike's lap, his legs at either side.

Spike grinned as their groins brushed. "I reckon whoever had this thing made was a bit kinky. Bet he liked to get the maid in 'ere with 'im." The vampire waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Maybe he just liked a lot of room," suggested Xander.

"Well it's certainly got that," said Spike. He gripped the sides of the tub as he pushed his hips back and forth, rocking himself against the boy.

Xander groaned. "Ohhh."

"Nice, pet?"

Heavy-lidded eyes rose to meet his, as Xander nodded slowly.

Spike smiled. "Yeah, oil makes water nice 'n' slippery. Makes other bits nice 'n' slippery too." He illustrated his point by taking hold of Xander's semi-hard length, stroking until it grew full and heavy in his hand. With a purr of appreciation, Spike released it. Xander's grumble was silenced when Spike's fingers dipped lower, stoking the sensitive skin beneath.

"Oh," Xander gasped breathily. He arched his hips up slightly, his fingers slipping on the side of the tub.

Spike worked his fingers underneath and gently probed the entrance to Xander's body. The oil drenched water eased his passage, his finger slipping in easily. Transfixed, he watched the shifting expressions on Xander's face. The tense anticipation, followed by a tiny frown, which deepened with the initial contact. Then, as his finger slid inside the tight channel, Xander's lips parted gently as his head tipped back. Spike brought his other hand up to touch the boy's face. Xander's eyes opened, glazed with desire. Spike stroked the soft lips, gasping as Xander caught his finger between blunt teeth.

The boy sucked the digit into his mouth, mimicking fellatio - drawing it in deep and swirling his tongue around it. All the while, velvet dark eyes never once strayed from Spike's face.

Spike joined in the play, sliding his finger in and out, slowly fucking Xander's mouth. It soon wasn't enough. With a growl he withdrew his fingers from the youth's body. Drawing Xander forward, he grabbed the slender hips and pulled him down hard onto his erection

Xander gasped as the rigid length entered his body; struggling slightly. Spike continued to ease him down, until the boy's buttocks were flush with his groin. "You.. alright?" he ground out.

Xander wiggled slightly, winced, and then gasped. "Oh, god, *yesss*."

Spike bit through his lip as the boy moved. "Re-ready?"

Flushed and dazed, Xander looked at him.

"Move," Spike ordered.

Xander understood. Fingers fought for purchase on wet slippery skin as he began to raise and lower himself on Spike's erection. He braced his feet and arms on the copper tub and tried to find some leverage. Spike came to his assistance - holding and lifting him - before letting his body sink back onto the long, hard length.

It was impossible to move any way but slowly. The sensations a delicious kind of torture spreading through trembling bodies.

"Touch yourself," Spike hissed.

Xander released one side of the tub and eagerly closed his fingers around his straining flesh. He stroked it in time to the deep thrusts, his breathing rough and ragged. His movements grew more rapid as the pressure built up and with a harsh cry he came, his seed splashing over his belly.

Spike snatched his hand and pulled it toward his mouth. A cold tongue flicked between his fingers, cleaning away the traces of cum. It darted over his palm and sharp fangs suddenly sank into his wrist, making him yelp.

The yelp became a dull, pleasured moan as the blood trickled down his arm, and Spike drank. Dizzily, Xander watched the dark crimson clouds blossoming in the water. Spike bit deeper and he cried out again, pushing his wrist closer, wanting more. Needing to feel those cold points of ivory pressing into his hot, burning flesh.

He whimpered with the loss when his lover's fangs withdrew. Then blinked with dazed confusion as he was lifted free of Spike's erection.

Xander was barely able to stand but Spike pulled him to his feet. He would have slipped, but Spike sure-footedly tracked through the oily pools of water and carried him over to the bed.

He was thrown down on it, none too gently, his legs hanging off the edge. Spike pushed them apart and a heartbeat later plunged back into him. There was the sudden, sharp burn as his body was breached; the discomfort quickly forgotten as his lover began to thrust. This time the pace was fast and brutal. Xander wrapped his hands around the bed covers and then jammed one fist into his mouth. He felt hot and faint, heat blazing through his body.

Spike gave one final hard thrust and came. He howled, and Xander arched back, crying out. As the cold seed filled his body, a second orgasm was torn from him...and he tumbled into darkness.

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

He awoke, clean and dry, underneath the blankets. The tub was gone, but a fire still burnt in the grate. Spike was curled around him like a cat. Xander ran his fingers through the short blond waves, marvelling at their softness.

"Mmmzzsst?" Spike mumbled sleepily. One blue eye opened and looked at him. "Don't tell me you need to piss? Cos I'm not bloody shifting."

Xander's mouth twitched in amusement. "No, I don't. But if I do you'll have to move. Because you'll have to either carry me outside, or bring a bottle. I don't think I could walk if an entire army of hairy, stinky Grosga demons marched through here."

"They better fuckin' not," Spike growled. He rolled back and looked at Xander closely. "I didn't hurt you?"

"I think ridden hard and put away wet, is the term they use," said Xander. Seeing the worry in his lover's eyes he added. "No. I'm not hurt."

"Good," Spike muttered. "Does this mean you're gonna shut up and go back to sleep any time soon?"

Xander snuggled against his lover and closed his eyes.

It was Spike who broke the ensuing silence. "I don't suppose you've even realised yet?"

Xander opened his eyes, his forehead wrinkling in confusion. "Realised what?"

Spike smirked. "That if you weren't a little 'different', pet. I'd be dragging your sorry arse to the E.R round about now."

Xander's frown deepened and then cleared in startled comprehension. "You mean...if I was...still like before..."

"I think you said it once, 'fucked to death'. There ain't a human on this poxy planet that can lie back and take it like that." He kissed Xander on the nose tenderly. "You're special, pet."

Xander still looked a little stunned. Then he smiled. "I think maybe I'm going to like this," he said with a widening grin.

"Course you are, luv. Course you are," said Spike, "and so am I."

They kissed deeply, and hands began to wander beneath the blankets.......

Part Thirteen

Angel 'felt' Buffy before he heard the gentle knock on the door. Laying his book aside he looked up - into a pair of anxious green eyes. Before he could say anything, Doyle jumped to his feet. "I should go, yeah?" said the young man. "Make myself scarce?"

"Stay," said Angel softly.

Doyle hesitated, then gave a slight nod and sat back down.

Angel touched the young man's shoulder as he walked past, letting his fingers reach around to ruffle the soft hair at the nape of Doyle's neck. Doyle smiled and caught his fingers, kissing them lightly before letting them go. Angel crossed the room and opened the door.

Buffy was waiting on the front step. Her face wore an uneasy expression that Angel was sure was mirrored on his.

"Hi." Her voice was tight and clipped. Not a happy sounding Buffy. Then again, she'd probably come back from a slaying-free picnic to listen to an account of her friends being attacked by a foul smelling demon.

"Hi," he replied awkwardly, "come in."

"Thanks." She followed him inside the mansion. She noticed Doyle and offered the young man a brief smile.

Doyle returned it nervously.

With the pleasantries over she turned to face Angel. "Willow told me what happened. What sort of demon was it?"

"Grosga," he told her. "They're carrion feeders. We haven't been able to uncover any previous records of attacks on living humans."

Buffy pursed her lips thoughtfully. "So...what, you're thinking this is the work of our mysterious magic user? But then why Willow and Xander. Why not send it after me. Or you?"

"The greater threat." Angel filled in her unspoken thought. He shook his head. "I'm not sure. I'm not even sure he was behind it."

"I don't believe in coincidences," she said firmly. "Maybe he gave it the wrong set of instructions. Perhaps it thought Willow *was* me."

"Or maybe his plan is to target your friends first," Angel suggested grimly.

Buffy's mouth tightened. "Not gonna happen," she said quickly, "because I intend to find this guy and take him out before he hurts any one."

"We'll be more effective if we work together," said Angel.

She hesitated. "Alright," she said finally. "Do you have anything?"

Angel glanced across at Doyle, who shrugged. "No," he admitted, "but I have a few sources I can try, they might give us a lead."

Buffy looked impatient. "Fine. Well, why don't you work on that. I'll keep looking around. Perhaps our mystery guest will show himself."

"Be careful," Angel cautioned. "Your abilities won't give you much of an edge against sorcery. If you find him, don't try to tackle him on your own."

"I can take care of myself," she responded defensively.

"I know you can," said Angel gently. "Just humour me, okay? Call if you find out anything."

She smiled slowly. "Okay." She shook her head. "I swear, sometimes you're worse than my Mom and Giles put together."

Angel smiled back ruefully, acknowledging his tendency to be a bit of a mother-hen.

"I should probably go," said Buffy moving toward the door. "Giles has got his research hat on. He wants me to call 'punctually' every hour, in case he's come up with anything."

"Buffy, wait." Angel took a step forward. "I....I need to tell you something."

She waited expectantly.

Angel glanced at Doyle, who looked like he was ready to bolt. "Not here," he said gently. "Let's go outside."

Doyle visibly sagged in relief.

Buffy shot her ex-lover a confused look as she followed him out into the garden. He led her to the far wall, where discarded stoneworks provided somewhere to sit. As soon as the sun had set he and Doyle had buried the Grosga demon as best as they could. Buffy prodded at the lumpy mound with a sandalled toe. Her actions exposed a tuft of matted hair and a waft of unpleasant odour. Her nose wrinkled, and she tried to cover it back up.

"Buffy, please. Would you....I mean can you sit down. Please?"

She reacted instantly to the pain in his voice, turning back to face him. "Angel, what is it? What's wrong?"

Angel looked at her. "Buffy...this is hard..."

"Is it Xander?" Her face tightened.

"What? *No*, this has nothing to do with Xander," he assured her.

She didn't look reassured.

"Please," he patted the stone slab beside him, "sit down. You're moving around too much. It.....it makes it hard to think..."

Her expression softened and she sat down on the broken plinth beside him.

He regarded her sadly. "Please believe me, Buffy. I didn't do any of this with the intention of hurting you. I....I've never wanted that."

"I know," she said softly.

"It's just things have...changed."

She nodded warily.

"You're at college. You're studying and...you have Riley." As the young man's name left his lips, Angel felt Buffy stiffen. He kept his gaze locked on the ruined garden. Moonlight washed over the broken statues, bathing their worn and wearied forms in wisps of silver and shadowy blue. He focused on a slender sculptured nymph as he asked, "Do you love him?"

There was a slight pause, then a soft. "Yes."

"I'm glad," said Angel quickly. "I mean, I'm happy for you. It's good that you've moved on...That your life has new...things in it. Good things-"

She interrupted him "-Angel, you're babbling. Just *tell* me what's wrong?"

Angel turned to look at her. "Nothing's wrong. I'm trying to tell you that things have changed for me too."

"Changed?" she echoed.

He pushed himself past the point of no return. "I'm....I'm in love."

Her eyes suddenly grew very wide.

Angel took advantage of the stunned silence, and the rest tumbled out in a muddled rush. "I'minlovewithDoyle."

Buffy still just stared.

"There's more," he added. "It might be hard for you to hear, but-"

"-you're in love with....*Doyle*?" she interjected faintly. Her eyes had a glazed look.

Angel watched her worriedly. "Yes," he said simply.

"But....but he's....he's a man?"

Angel's mouth twitched slightly; confirming her startled statement with another simple, "Yes."

Buffy leapt to her feet. "That's it!" she cried, throwing her hands up in a gesture of surrender. "I've *sooo* had it with this."

Angel frowned.

She turned on him. "First Will, then Xander, now *you*? This is some sort of crazy world, right? One of those 'other dimension' thingies. That has to be it."

Angel shook his head gently. "I can't speak for Willow or Xander, but I think perhaps Giles has let slip some facts regarding my kind."

"Your kind?"

He gave her a look. "Vampires."

She appeared slightly embarrassed. "Oh. Right."

"We....we don't exactly have gender preferences." He fidgeted beneath her penetrating stare, adding almost to himself, "Or any other kind...."

"So...you're saying you...."

"Vampires take male and female lovers," said Angel baldly, "of almost any species."

Buffy flushed. "So...you....I mean...you've...."

"Yes."

Her flush deepened.

"Does that bother you?" he asked gently.

She answered a touch too quickly, "*No*." There was an uncomfortable pause before she added, "Okay, maybe just a little. But only because it seems so...strange."

Angel sighed. "I'm sorry. I don't think I can make it any less strange for you, Buffy. It's just how things are."

Her eyebrows suddenly lifted. "*All* vampires?" she asked.

He nodded and her gaze darted toward the house. He grimaced, guessing that her thoughts had turned to Spike - most definitely *not* a subject he wanted to get into. He was trying to think of a way to deflect her interest when her eyes narrowed, and she pinned him with a steely gaze.

"Aren't we forgetting something?" she asked coldly. "Rather a *big* something. You can say it's none of my business, but I'm afraid I'll have to disagree; since I'm the one watching my back when you switch teams."

The pain etched upon her face was more than matched by the sorrow in his expression. "It won't happen," he told her quietly.

She gave an indelicate snort. "Oh, please. We tried that route, remember. As I recall, it wasn't a big success. Now you're trying to tell me that you've suddenly found some sort of unlimited self-control?"

He couldn't look at her. "I don't have to."

She frowned. "You don't have to what?"

Dark eyes slowly lifted to meet puzzled hazel orbs. "I don't have to...abstain," he croaked. "I....I changed my curse."

"*W-What?*"

"I changed it, I can't lose my soul...not...that way."

The pain of denial clashed with a desperate fury. "You *changed* it? *What*? You just got bored and swapped it for something more user-friendly? *Tell me. * Tell me how this works, Angel, because I don't
get it."

"I....I discovered I could alter it. I reworked the original curse, so I won't lose my soul if....."

"-You get lucky?" she finished bitterly. Her voice was hollow, drained of emotion, as she continued, "So, this...'idea'. It just came to you? Or wasn't it worth the effort before?"

The silent question poisoned the air between them ~ 'wasn't *I* worth the effort?

"Buffy...I didn't know loving you would cost me my soul. When I did, I knew I had to let you go, but it...it was more than that. It wasn't just the curse." Tears roughened his voice. "You know there was more than that. It...it was wrong between us. You're the Slayer-"

"Stop it!" she shouted. "Just....just stop saying tha-that. All I ever hear is 'you're the Slayer, Buffy.' 'It's your destiny, Buffy.' 'It's your duty, Buffy'. I'm *so* sick of it. Now you're blaming *me* for all this-"

"-I'm not blaming anyone," he cut in quickly, "least of all you. All I meant was it could never have worked - a Slayer and a vampire?" He stared at her, willing her to understand.

She shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. "No...no, that's not true. I...I loved you."

He stood and reached for her. She flinched away. "Oh, Buffy," his voice was thick with pain, "I loved you too. More than you'll ever know."

"I just wanted to be with you," she said in a small voice. A tear spilled down her cheek.

"I know... I..I wanted that too," he whispered hoarsely.

"But not any more?"

Angel closed his eyes briefly. When he reopened them his own tears ran freely down his face. "I still love you, Buffy. I always will. Just....just not in the same way."

"It's not fair," she protested, "if I weren't the Slayer-"

"-we'd never have met." He reached for her again, this time she allowed it. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "And I can't be sorry for that. Maybe that's selfish of me-"

She shook her head, as her breath hitched on a tiny sob. "N-no...it's not. I feel the same."

They shared a sad, teary-eyed smile.

"Will you be all right?" he asked softly.

She nodded and sniffled. "It's just so hard. This feels so...final. Like I'm really losing you..."

He wiped a glistening tear off one smooth cheek. "You're not losing me, Buffy. I'm still here for you, I always will be."

She just studied him silently.

Something in her eyes reminded Angel that despite her youth, she was the Slayer, with an understanding that could reach beyond her mortal years.

"No," she whispered, "I'm not losing you. You were never really mine."

There really wasn't any more to be said.

When she touched his face he allowed her fingers to guide him closer. As he leaned down, she reached up and kissed him ~ tenderly, chastely. Her voice was soft as breath against his skin. "Be happy."

Fighting back fresh tears he nodded. "You too."

He watched her leave, knowing she was right. They were finally saying goodbye.

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

Angel felt....numb. That was the only way he could describe this strange, hollow sensation. He was vaguely aware of going back inside, stumbling dazedly over to the couch, and sitting down next to his lover. He leaned into the young man as Doyle's arms came up around him. Angel was grateful. He didn't want to talk, or think, or even move. He just wanted this close, wordless comfort....and Doyle understood.

He felt the young man's lips press against his hair - the arms around him tightening gently. Angel closed his eyes and let himself be loved.

Part Fourteen

As a result of some rather vigorous fooling around, Xander was out for the count when Buffy arrived. A noise stirred him from his slumber. He returned to wakefulness to find himself alone under the sheets. Unsettled, he rolled over and sat up.

The fire had long since gone out, leaving only a few glowing embers in the grate. Despite the darkness, Xander had no difficulty discerning the shadowy figure of his lover moving around by the back wall. He rubbed his eyes sleepily. "What are you doing?"

"Sssh," Spike hissed. "Keep it down, demon-boy's still next door."

"So?"

"So, I don't want him opening his bloody gob to grass me up."

Xander didn't like the sound of that. He wiggled down to the end of the bed, perching on the edge with the blankets bunched around his legs. Fully awake, he realised what Spike was doing. The vampire was prising the boards off one of the large windows. It was taking some effort, since Spike was clearly attempting to be sneaky about it, as opposed to simply tearing them free.

"I'm thinking there's a reason why you're doing this," said Xander, "and I'm guessing it's probably not a romantic urge to watch the sun rise over the garden."

"I'm going out," Spike muttered without turning around.

"Don't we have a front door for that?"

"Ha, bloody ha."

"You don't want Angel knowing," Xander guessed. He felt a cold lump settle in his belly as he recalled Spike's earlier complaints about lack of fresh blood supplies. He quickly snatched up his jeans and wriggled into them, before padding across the room to his lover. "Where are you planning on going?" He tried to sound nonchalant but Spike must have caught the worry in his voice.

The vampire lay the board he was holding aside and turned round to face Xander. "Relax, pet. I'm not nipping out for a snack. I just thought I'd pay Willy a visit." He shrugged. "Save Peaches some work by wringing something useful out of the little git."

Xander looked unconvinced. "That's very...ah...thoughtful of you. Which begs the question - why?"

"I'm wounded, pet." Spike's lips formed a mock pout.

"Yeah, whatever," said Xander, not buying it for a minute. "Now spill. Why?"

"Because, genius. The sooner we get this soddin' mess cleared up the sooner we can get back to L.A and get us fixed up with a place." Spike stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Xander's waist. "That'd be good wouldn't it. Just you, me....a big bath tub." He nuzzled Xander's neck lightly.

Xander didn't take much convincing. "Okay let's go."

Spike released him hurriedly. "Oh no, pet. You're staying here."

"Not a chance."

Spike's expression telegraphed his displeasure.

Xander didn't back down. "Either I come, or I might accidentally raise my voice and alert Angel and Doyle to your little escapade."

Spike hissed. "All right," he conceded. " 'Ere, take this." He handed Xander a flick knife.

Xander took it. The blade felt cold and alien in his hand. He slipped it into his back pocket; then he helped his lover move the last few boards. Spike hit the rotten frame with his fist, snapping the wood, and together they wrestled it free, leaving a gap large enough to climb through. Spike slipped out with unrestrained eagerness, Xander followed with a touch more reservation.

The pair crept away from the house. Spike paused when they came to Angel's car.

Xander grabbed his lover's sleeve and tugged on it. "Come on."

"It'd be quicker than walking."

"We don't have the keys," Xander hissed. He yanked Spike's sleeve again. It was hopeless - like trying to move an iceberg with his bare hands.

"Don't need 'em," said Spike with a wolfish grin.

Xander shook his head vehemently. "Oh no. We are *not* stealing Angel's car. No way."

Spike frowned, then shrugged and walked away, leaving Xander to hurry after him.

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

The road into town was deserted. Spike seemed inordinately pleased to be out and about as he harried Xander, hurrying the youth toward the distant lights. Xander was pleased to see his lover in such high spirits, but his own good mood was tempered by worry. The Initiative were still in town, and according to Buffy, still gunning for Spike. Since the latter was no longer crippled by the implant, any confrontation promised to be bloody.

"Cheer up for Chrissakes," said Spike. "You're acting like his royal broodiness."

"Sorry," Xander mumbled.

Spike lay an arm around his shoulders as they walked through the streets. "What's the matter, pet?"

Xander looked at him. "I don't know," he replied honestly. "I guess I just don't fancy running into Riley and his pals again."

Spike squeezed his shoulder lightly. "Then we'll nip to Willy's and nip home again sharpish. No need to have a run in with anyone."

Xander arched an eyebrow at his lover. "Don't tell me you're not spoiling for a fight."

Spike grinned. "Maybe I am, but cracking open Willy's ugly face should suffice, for now."

"You really don't like him much do you?"

Spike snorted. "And you do?"

"Well, no...but-"

"-then you won't mind me freshnin' up my skills on him, will you."

"Skills?" Xander looked at his lover uncertainly.

"It's been a while since I really 'ad a go at a human. I've got rusty," Spike grumbled. Then his smile came back, wide and vicious. "See, it's like any talent, luv. You have to work at it to keep it fresh."

"Uh huh," said Xander. He was faintly troubled that he *wasn't* troubled by Spike's words. Shouldn't he be concerned that Spike clearly regarded torturing humans as something of a 'gift'. Perhaps he'd just have to accept this casual disregard as another of those 'changes'. For now he buried the thought, concentrating all his energies on keeping one eye on Spike and the other on possible dangers.

Xander wasn't the only one being keen and alert. Spike was hyped up, but by no means unaware of the risks they were taking - hence his reluctance to take the whelp along. However, he'd been going stir crazy cooped up for so long. First shut up in Angel's apartment. Then the car journey, suffering the unrelenting sodding agony of his Sire's musical preferences. After that, hours stuck in the mansion, not a place of happy memories; though he'd done his best to redress the balance. He cast an eye toward his lover; the youth looked rattled. There again, considering the stuff he'd had to deal with in the past twenty four hours, it was hardly surprising.

Spike had been nervous of telling Xander the truth, knowing how badly the boy had reacted in the past to suggestions that he was 'changing' in any way. Xander's relatively calm acceptance had stunned and delighted him. Oh, he knew that beneath the calm there were ripples of panic - he could feel them, but the most important thing was Xander's willingness to pursue this.

Spike wasn't sure what his reaction would have been had the boy refused to co-operate any further. He'd told Xander once that he wouldn't give him up and that still stood. Xander was his, more now than ever. When he'd told the whelp he was close to the point of no return, he hadn't actually said *how* close. The truth was, he wasn't one hundred percent sure himself. He'd never done this before. Until Xander, he'd never met any one he'd wanted to share this kind of connection with.

What he did know was at the moment he was more attuned to the changes than Xander - his senses being accustomed to the preternatural. He could detect the boy's emotions. When they were strong he didn't even have to try, they virtually reached out to him. Now he was beginning to learn the subtle nuances. It wasn't telepathy as such, there were no words, just feelings. A kind of empathy. It was unnerving. It was also fucking amazing and he was revelling in it. He'd experimented during bath time and had nearly passed out as Xander's emotional responses to their love-making flooded into him.

If Spike had one key weakness, one flaw he would admit to, it was that he hated to be alone. He'd been there, done that: alive and undead. It sucked either way. This....this was like being inside someone else's skin. He could feel what Xander felt, and he could project his own feelings, even if Xander wasn't as yet able to understand. It abolished the loneliness he'd felt for too long. He'd claimed Xander as his - and he'd been claimed in return.

He almost whooped with the sheer giddy thrill of it, suppressing the urge to kill something. Would Xander mind if he just bruised one of Willy's patrons a bit? Demons were fair game weren't they? The night teased his senses, enticing him to savagery. Its voiceless summoning, a lure no human could understand. He watched the youth by his side and wondered if the whelp could? He stopped suddenly. Cupping the boy's startled face between his hands Spike kissed him soundly. Xander uttered an undignified squeak, and then kissed him back.

"Wh-what was that for?" Xander asked somewhat breathlessly.

Spike brushed his finger across a moist bottom lip. "Just because," he murmured cryptically.

Xander frowned. "You're acting seriously weird."

Spike smiled and kissed him again, lightly this time. "Come on, let's go scare the crap out of Willy."

Xander gave him a puzzled smile in return and nodded. "Okay, but let's try this without *too much* bodily violence. He won't give us anything if he's unconscious."

"Spoil sport," said Spike.

Xander just gave him a look as they entered the bar.

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

Xander was relieved the place was quiet, though on the previous occasions he'd been here, it hadn't exactly been heaving. Spike strode straight up to the bar and offered the bartender a toothsome smile. Xander had to smother a grin at the way Willy turned several shades paler than his usual unhealthy hue.

"S-Spike, didn't know you were in town."

"And why would that interest you?" Spike asked coldly.

"Me-me? Interested? No...no...you mishear me, man. I...I wouldn't be. I meaaaaaan!" He words ended on a painfilled cry when Spike reached across the bar and grabbed the man's ear, twisting it viciously.

Xander winced.

"Ow...ow...ow...What'av I done? Owwww!"

"Shut up," Spike snarled. "You and me are gonna find a nice quiet place to chat. Out back should do fine." He signalled that Xander should lead the way.

Willy continued to yelp and whimper as Spike dragged him out from behind the bar. No one paid the pair any notice. Xander lead the way warily into the back. It was narrow and cramped, stacked with boxes and smelling of beer and less pleasant things. Spike released Willy and shoved him into a stack of crates. "I want to know who else is new in town," the vampire hissed. "And don't be giving me any useless tattle, or I'll shove your head through this wall."

"I don-" Willy's protest of ignorance was cut short when Spike back handed him across the face. As his head snapped back with the force of the blow the man's eyes widened in terror. "You .... you...."

Spike lowered his face to the trembling bartender's, shifting into his vampiric visage. Gold eyes glittered maniacally. "Yeah, Willy. I'm *whole* again. Which is more than I can say for you, if you don't open your fuckin' mouth and give me something."

Xander had never seen a human being crumpled quite so dramatically. The man that stared up at them both was almost catatonic with fear. Spike displayed a lethal smile, and stroked a long, pale finger down a grey, stubbly cheek. "Come on, Willy. Tell me what you know and maybe, just maybe, you'll crawl out of here with all four limbs attached."

"I....I..."

"Think carefully, Willy. It's been a long time since I tasted a fresh human." Spike wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Course, you're not exactly fresh." He smashed an empty bottle, making both humans jump. He brought the jagged end close to Willy's throat. "Still, at the end of the day, blood is blood and I never turn down the offer of a free meal."

"No," Willy squawked, drawing back. Spike grabbed his hair and forced him forward onto the broken glass, a bead of red appeared as his Adams apple convulsed. "Al....All right," he gasped, "but I...I don't know much." Spike growled and he added hurriedly, "Someone said there was unusual stuff going on at the old school."

"Unusual stuff?" Xander echoed.

Spike dug the bottle a little deeper. Willy cringed and closed his eyes. "Answer him," Spike snapped. "What stuff?"

"I-I don't ...know," Willy whined. "Honest, I keep my head down. I don't go asking people their business."

Spike drew the bottle away. "No, you don't do you, Willy. You're just another fuckin' innocent bystander; watching while someone else gets it in the fuckin' face."

Willy's frightened eyes widened as he realised what the vampire was alluding to. "No....no," he begged. "I couldn't do nothing, they would have killed me."

Spike smiled nastily. "Yeah, they would 'ave." He leaned down and patted the bartender on top of his greasy head. "Where as me, I'm just gonna hurt you a bit." He shrugged. "Or maybe a lot."

Willy went from pale to green in less than a second. Shocked eyes turned to Xander, pleading silently for help.

"Oh don't mind him," said Spike rolling up his sleeves, "he's with me."

Xander turned away as the first blow connected with a sickening thud. Several more followed in rapid succession and the bartender slid to the floor. Spike went to kick the groaning man but Xander held him back. "Enough, we've got what we needed."

Spike looked at his lover, seeing neither approval nor disapproval in the dark gaze. He relaxed. "Right, back home then." As he turned to go, he snatched another bottle from the shelf. Opening it he sniffed it, took a swig, and then poured the rest over the body at his feet. He was tempted to add his lighter to the mix, but Xander was waiting impatiently. and Spike decided that even if Willy was a snivelling wretch, he had his uses - he ran a well stocked bar for one thing. Stepping over the blood and booze drenched figure he joined his lover, and they left.

A Lume demon leaned back in her seat, watching as Willy hauled himself out from the back room. The demon took one look at his battered face and sighed, wondering how long she'd have to wait before she could get another drink.

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

Xander watched his lover lick the blood from his hands and shivered. He was disturbed by Spike's savagery....but he was also aroused by it. Right now he wanted nothing more than to throw Spike up against a wall and take him. A fact that had him more than a little freaked. S&M had never been his
scene, so why was he finding his jeans uncomfortably tight?

Spike looked at him. "It's not the violence, pet."

"What?" Xander was startled.

"You aren't being turned on by me mashing Willy's face," said Spike moving closer. He grabbed Xander's hand and placed it against his groin.

Xander's fingers twitched as he felt the hardness pressing against the tight black denim.

"Blood and violence makes me hot," Spike purred. "That's what you're picking up, and it's getting you hot too."

Xander tried to wrap his head around what Spike was saying - no easy task with his hand laid on top of the vampire's semi-hard flesh. "So...I'm, what? Getting a rush from this because *you're* getting a rush from it?"

"That's pretty much it, pet," Spike agreed nuzzling Xander's throat.

Xander gasped softly as Spike's fangs dragged lightly down his skin.

"How.....how does that work?"

"We're connected, pet. I feel what you feel. You get the same buzz from me."

Xander stiffened and pushed Spike away. "You can read my thoughts?"

Spike regarded him patiently. "Not thoughts, luv. Just what you feel. Here-" he touched Xander's head. "Here-" his heart. "And here-" he put his hand on Xander's groin and squeezed gently.

Xander jumped. "Oh." His thoughts fluttered wildly as he tried to reel them in. Spike could sense his feelings...and he could sense Spike's. This went way, *way* beyond weird. He was snapped out of his dazed musing by the cold fingers that slipped inside his coat - untucking his shirt and dancing across his belly. "Oh.. mmm," he murmured. God he felt hot. Chilled lips crushed his and he gave himself up to their onslaught.

The sound of a bin lid crashing to the ground made them both whirl around. It was only a cat foraging for scraps. Spike hissed at it and the animal sped away terrified.

Xander managed to regain his wits - enough to remember that he had an aversion to making out in cold, dank, dark alleyways. "Come on. I want to go home."

Spike looked peevish, but he nodded, his face slipping back into its smooth human planes. He reached for Xander's hand and brought it up to his lips, kissing it in an oddly chivalrous manner. The heat in his gaze made Xander feel light headed. "We finish this when we get back."

Xander nodded mutely.

As they walked to the end of the alley they heard another noise. At first Xander assumed it was the cat, displaying foolhardy courage. Unfortunately it wasn't. Xander stiffened <Oh, fuck. This was *not* good.>

At the mouth of the alley stood a familiar and unwelcome figure - Forrest, and he wasn't alone. Three others, with the same rigid military bearing stood with him. They were in plain clothes but Xander knew that didn't mean they were off duty. He also had a good idea what they were carrying inside those lumpy looking hold-alls. He took an involuntary step back and then froze as a wall of white hot rage hit him.

Confused, he blinked sharply and automatically glanced at Spike. The vampire was in his true aspect, lips furled back, long fangs exposed. Gold eyes burned with fury. Xander knew then what he was feeling, the fear was his own - the rage was pure Spike. This was bad, this was very bad. He had to do something before there was a massacre. With a wild yell he grabbed a nearby bin and as the soldiers reached inside their bags for their weapons he threw it. He knocked two of them off their feet and sent the other two diving out of the way.

Without waiting to see what was on offer for an encore, Xander grabbed his lover and yanked hard. "Come on!" There was no mistaking the panic in his voice and Spike responded to it. With a savage growl the vampire raced out of the alley, dragging Xander with him.

Bad became worse when a jeep did a sharp U-turn and gave chase. Forrest and his companions were also back on their feet and in pursuit; though they stood no chance of catching their quarry. Spike and Xander fled through the streets with preternatural speed, not caring who saw, wanting only to get away. Forrest and the others were quickly left behind. The jeep however, was gaining ground.

Spike stopped as they sped past one street. Turning back he tugged Xander into it. Half way down, a young man was preparing to put on his motorcycle helmet - he never knew what hit him. Spike snatched the red and white helmet out of the man's hands and swung it up into his face. The young man collapsed to the concrete. Spike tossed the helmet away and rifled the man's pockets with practised ease, withdrawing the ignition key with a hiss of satisfaction.

"What are you doing?!" Xander yelled, watching the jeep's approach with growing alarm.

"Shut up and get on." Spike was already swinging his leg over the bike. Xander hesitated and then jumped up behind him. "Do you even know how to ride one of these things?" His answer was a maniacal laugh as Spike struck up the engine and with a sudden lurch the bike sped forward. Xander buried his face against his lover's back as the wind whipped at him, stealing the air from his lungs. <Oh god. I'm going to die> he thought, as Spike shot up onto the sidewalk and narrowly avoided colliding with bench.

He didn't relax even when it became apparent that Spike knew what he was doing. His lover's lack of fear did nothing to decrease his own. After all, he had things to consider - like probable certain gruesome death if he came off at this speed. He grit his teeth and held on as Spike spun the bike around with a flourish and zoomed back the way they had come - toward the jeep. Xander looked over his lover's shoulder in time to see the vehicle's lights bearing down on them.

"Spike!" His cry was plucked away by the wind. Xander closed his eyes and prayed to whatever god hadn't yet deserted him. He felt the bike lean and swerve and heard a crash - the sound of glass and grinding metal.

Surprised to find he wasn't dead, Xander opened his eyes. The jeep was no longer in front of them. He glanced back over his shoulder and his eyes widened. The jeep was stationary in the centre of the junction. Shattered glass was strewn across the road; only some of it came from the jeep's broken headlight. The rest came from the unfortunate car that was now attached to the bull bars at the front.

As Xander watched an aggrieved looking man leapt out of the crumpled car and began kicking the jeep. The soldiers piled out, an onlooker came to join in, and chaos ensued. Xander turned back with a grin. Though his amusement faded rapidly as he saw what was in front of them. Before he could open his mouth to yell, Spike opened up the throttle and aimed the bike toward the soldiers running up the street. Xander saw their expressions shift from stunned confusion, to fear and anger, in a split second. He grimaced as the bike plunged into the group - sending men spinning like skittles. Forrest was forced to scramble up a street lamp, while another rolled under a parked car.

With a whoop and a wave of his fist, Spike turned the bike and headed out of town.

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

They didn't stop until they were half way up the road toward the mansion, and the lights of Sunnydale were glittering points below.

Spike pulled up along the road side. He twisted round to look at his passenger. "You all right?"

"Oh, I'm perfect," Xander ground out through gritted teeth. He thumped his lover. "What the *hell* were you doing? What happened to keeping a low profile? What happened to nipping into town and then nipping home again, without picking a fight?"

"Hey, I didn't start it. Them tossers would have shot us. Would you have preferred that?"

Xander muttered something unintelligible.

Spike tried to look suitably chastened. He couldn't quite pull it off but it was a game attempt. "Look, there's no real harm done. I didn't kill the bastards."

"No but Angel is going to kill us," Xander pointed out.

Spike shrugged. "So, we don't tell him."

Xander gave him a look. "Well you'd better think of a good excuse for why we've got this bike, because I think this is him now."

Spike looked back round and swore as he watched the black car winding its way down the road toward them. "Right, okay. You....you just keep your gob shut. I'll handle this."

"Be my guest," said Xander. Then the youth's smile turned wicked. Leaning forward he managed to nip Spike's ear lightly with his teeth. "The thing with the bike and the goons?" he whispered. "Nicely done."

Spike looked back at him startled but didn't get a chance to say anything as Angel pulled up along side them, his expression dour. Spike offered his Sire a breezy smile and racked his brain for an excuse. Doyle's mouth twitched in amusement and Spike tried to ignore the pull of bright green eyes. He cursed. "Okay, so we had a little trouble. Them bastards deserved it and I found out something, " he added defensively. He heard Xander groan and felt the young man's head drop against his back.

"What happened?" Angel asked bluntly.

Spike pursed his lips in displeasure and looked out across the town as he muttered. "We had a run in with them soldier gits. We had to make a break for it."

"Did they recognise you specifically?"

Spike shrugged. "Yeah, probably."

Doyle cursed. "Well this is gonna make things interestin'."

Angel just glared silently at his errant offspring.

Spike shifted on his seat. "Well what d'you expect? I was fuckin' bored," he growled. "I got the information you wanted, didn't I? Summat's going on at the brat's old school."

Angel's glower didn't lift but he nodded. "Get rid of the bike and get in."

Spike was surprised by the invitation.

Xander voiced his question out loud. "We can come?"

Angel regarded the youth with a gentler version of his glower. "Yes you can come. I'm not planning on letting either of you out of my sight." Xander sheepishly clambered off the bike and into the back of the car. Doyle shot the boy a sympathetic look; letting Xander know he understood it was hard to stay out of trouble when Spike was your romantic other half.

Spike shoved the bike off the road and into the scrub, then leapt in next to his lover. "Where we off then?"

"You said the school," said Angel flatly. "So we'll check that out first."

Spike grinned and threw an arm around his lover's shoulder's. Xander shot him a look of fond exasperation and snuggled up against him.

Angel drove back into Sunnydale. All the while wondering if it wouldn't have been far wiser to have simply manacled the pair to the mansion wall.

Part Fifteen

Evidently the Initiative were adept at clearing up after themselves as the town was quiet upon their return, with no sign of the earlier mayhem. Angel ordered Spike and Xander to keep their heads down as he drove over to the school. He parked around the side of the burnt out building.

Xander followed the others as they walked across the grass to the front entrance. He scanned the boarded-up windows nervously. It all seemed quiet. They stopped outside the door and a minor disagreement erupted. Angel wanted to go in and look around alone; Doyle was having none of it. While Spike was still spoiling for a fight and wasn't about to sit around while his Sire had all the fun.

Xander joined in when it looked like he might be the only one made to wait outside. He pointed out that with the Initiative and god knows what else wandering around, it might be better if they all stayed together. A familiar furrow formed between Angel's eyes, which said the vampire was less than pleased. However, he conceded the point Xander was making and the four entered the school.

The darkened corridors were coated with smut and grime; the whole place stank - a mixture of melted plastic and charred brick and wood. Xander was pleased he could see in the darkness, but was less happy that his new improved senses included a better sense of smell. The burnt odours caught in the back of his throat and made him cough.

"Shurrup," Spike hissed, waving him quiet.

Xander shot his lover an apologetic look and tried to choke back the tickle in his throat; as was so often the case it only made it worse. Grimacing he followed the others as they moved quietly down the corridor. He quickly noticed that both Angel and Spike seemed bothered by something. Angel whispered what it was the two vampires were sensing.

"Someone's set up a cloaking spell."

"Cloaking?" Xander frowned. "You mean like to make them invisible?"

Angel shook his head. "No, it just masks their presence. We'll be able to see them, we just can't smell or hear them."

"How'd'ya know?" Doyle asked.

Spike gave an exaggerated shudder. "You can feel it. Like havin' bloody spiders crawlin' up your spine."

Xander stopped and closed his eyes, trying to extend his awareness - curious to see if he could pick up this 'spidery tingle'. His eyes shot open when he did. "I felt it!" he exclaimed in a whisper.

Spike smiled encouragingly. Angel nodded. Doyle looked startled.

Xander shivered. It really did feel like spiders - huge hairy tarantulas scampering up and down his back. Spike touched his arm to get his attention.

"Now you've got it, don't try an' shut it off. It'll act like a warning. When the gits are close it'll feel worse."

"I can't feel anything," Doyle complained.

"You're not a vampire," Angel explained. "Cloaking spells don't work well against us. Just stay close."

They set off again, moving slowly and warily - alert for any sound, or sign of danger. They covered the ground floor first; their search revealed nothing until they entered the gym.

"Woah, someone's been a busy little sorcerer," Xander whispered. The entire floor was covered in symbols - most painted in black, a few were formed from scattered dust. They extended up two of the walls, and even along some of the burnt benches. Spike grabbed him when he would have stepped forward. Angel regarded him gravely.

"Don't tread on any," Angel warned. "You don't want to experience what some of these will do to you."

"D-do?" Xander looked down in alarm. A green triangle with a number of strange squiggles lay inches from his sneaker. "What do you mean *do*?"

Spike answered him, waving his arm to encompass the room. "Spells, luv. Living, breathing spells. Some'll turn you inside out. Some'll send a demon to devour you. Some'll just suck you straight down into Hell."

"I'm thinkin' this is to keep us out of 'ere then, yeah?" asked Doyle.

"Maybe," said Angel.

"That, or they was just doodlin'," said Spike with a dismissive shrug.

"Great," Xander mumbled. "We're after an obsessive scribbler." He glanced at a sticky red smear and screwed his face up in disgust. "Please tell me that isn't human blood?"

Spike glanced at the dark red writing; then looked at Xander.

Xander exhaled heavily. "Okay," he admitted. "I.....I knew it was." He was disturbed at how easily he had known the writing's source. Guessing it *might* be blood was one thing. *Knowing* it was human blood, because he could smell it, was something else entirely. He'd wanted Spike to tell him he was wrong. So much for that wish.

"What do we do now?" he asked.

"We keep looking," said Angel simply.

They back-tracked away from the gym hall and into the corridors - heading toward the library. Xander guessed a Hellmouth was probably as good a place as any to look for an evil sorcerer. Which brought another question to mind. "What do we do when we find this guy?" he whispered.

Angel held open his coat to reveal a pair of daggers carried in a thin leather harness, strapped around his chest. One had a sickle shaped blade; the other was split into three prongs - the middle fork being slightly
longer.

"They're Vashia daggers," Angel explained closing his coat.

"And they'll stop this guy?" Xander asked.

"Oh, yeah," said Doyle. "They'll do the trick all right."

Spike just grinned savagely.

Xander opened his mouth to ask something else, but fell abruptly silent as the crawling sensation down his spine suddenly intensified. He looked around in alarm and yelled a warning as the first of the demons appeared. They came from all directions. Scuttling across the ceiling, leaping out of doorways. Rushing down the corridor. There was no direction to run, so the four did the only thing they could - they stood and fought. Spike and Angel shifted quickly into their true aspects, gold eyes glittering fiercely as they faced off their attackers. Doyle also didn't waste any time switching to his stronger demon form.

Xander simply let his anger lead him. He felt a surge of satisfaction when his fist connected with a pig-like snout, sending the creature crashing back through a doorway. However, in the confusion of the fight no one noticed, least of all him, that he was being led away from the rest of the group. His antagonists drew him further down the corridor. Until, as they reached the end, three rushed him at once, picking him up and carrying him off.

Xander shouted in alarm and unknowingly sent out a wave of panic that had Spike's head snapping round to look for him. Despite his frantic struggles he was carried away. They took him down beneath the library, where finally he was set back on his feet. Angry, scared and somewhat disorientated he spun and punched the closest kidnapper in the gut. The demon growled but backed away as a cloaked figure stepped forward out of the shadows.

Xander had heard the expression 'blood freezing in the veins'; it suddenly felt a little too accurate. His entire body felt bathed in ice - inside and out. As the figure reached out for him he tried to scramble back, two demons held him firm. Xander blinked sharply as his gaze fell on the hand near his face. It was very pale, the skin almost translucent. In contrast the long, painted nails were a rich, dark purple, the colour of an overripe plum.

Transfixed he watched the hand withdrew to the hood of the cloak. As it slowly drew it back, Xander felt a terrified whimper claw its way up from his chest. <No....Oh god, no....>

When the hand caressed his cheek, he closed his eyes and turned his face away.

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