The Choice

By Esmeralda

Part Six

The thick stone walls didn't quite contain the muffled sounds of pleasure, and when Spike's echoing cry rang out Doyle grimaced, shifting uneasily. He glanced across to where Angel stood, checking through the contents of the weapons bag. Unlike Doyle, he didn't react to the eerie howl, and not for the first time, the young man was left wondering just how close the ties were between his lover and the other vampire.

Doyle had been telling the truth when he said he knew something about the bond between a Sire and Childe. Unfortunately, that *something* wasn't much. Vampires weren't big on sharing intimate details of their existence with outsiders. Most so called 'facts' were suppositions based on hearsay.

He did know it was probably the closest vampires got to kith and kin, and that sex, submission, and domination all played a part. That pretty much covered his knowledge. Though it was more than enough for him to work out what was going on that night, even before Angel and Spike emerged from the rooftop ~ bloody, dishevelled, reeking of smoke and sex.

Why hadn't he been more upset? Why hadn't he been hurt? Shouldn't he at least have been *slightly* jealous? So he knew something about the bond they shared; surely that didn't mean he couldn't resent it. Why didn't he?

It unsettled him, this easy acceptance. Why wasn't he raging? It sure as hell wasn't because his feelings didn't run deep enough - he loved Angel so much it hurt. Nor was it a martyr's acceptance. Neither could it be attributed to some kind of level-headed maturity; not when thoughts of Angel and a certain beautiful young Slayer tore holes in him.

So what the hell was it, and why on earth did loving Angel make him feel bizarrely protective of Spike and Xander? Doyle shook his head in disgust. *Protective*, yeah, right. Denial was a wonderful thing.

He felt totally lost. What was going on here? He had *never* harboured a secret fetish for homicidal vampires, and Xander was just a small town kid with some serious self-confidence issues.............or so he tried to tell himself. Though if that was the case, why was he having to struggle so hard *not* to think about what was happening on the other side of that wall?

"Doyle?"

He jumped a touch guiltily, and turned to face the vampire. Angel had set the weapons out on the table. It was an impressive display of hardware, from standard wooden stakes to repeat-action crossbows. Doyle smiled. "You remember the air to air missiles?"

Angel's mouth twitched as he shook his head in mock irritation. "Damn, I knew I'd forgotten something."

Doyle crossed the room to join his lover. His fingers trailed down the well-worn handle of a fighting axe; he wondered if it was the same one that had put the small, crescent shaped scar on his forehead. "We really gonna need all this stuff?"

"Sorcerers rarely travel unprotected. These should take care of them." Angel picked up a knife in a plain leather sheaf. "This has silver worked into the blade. Take it. Keep it on you at all times."

"Sleep with it under my pillow, yeah," Doyle half-joked.

Angel was deadly serious. "That's the general idea."

Doyle raised his eyebrows but took the knife, placing it carefully inside his jacket. "Hope the cops round here don't pull random searches, cos I'm gonna have real trouble persuadin' 'em I'm carrying this to fight off some fella's evil henchmen."

"Sunnydale's finest have perfected the skill of turning a blind eye," said Angel dryly. "They give speeding tickets and handout on the spot fines for littering. That's pretty much it."

"Well you can hardly blame 'em," said Doyle. "I mean, it can't be much fun, policin' a Hellmouth."

"No," said Angel softly. "Not much fun at all."

Doyle knew his lover was thinking of Buffy. "Does she know we're coming?"

Angel nodded. "Giles felt it was only fair to give her some warning. She and Spike don't exactly get along."

"Yeah, I kinda noticed they were throwin' off sparks back in L.A. I was surprised when she left so peaceably. I guess Xander must have been pretty persuasive, yeah."

"He's in love," said Angel simply. "Buffy could see that."

"Like she'll see this," said Doyle.

Angel drew the younger man against him. "She'll know something," he agreed, "but I doubt she'll work out the finer details on her own. If you really want to wait-"

Doyle shook his head. "-no, you're right. She deserves the truth."

Angel kissed him softly. "I love you."

Doyle managed a faint smile. "Love you back."

They returned to the kiss; coiled heat rising as lips and tongues danced, slow and deep. Fingers tangled through thick, dark hair, each seeking to draw the other closer. They reluctantly parted as a door opened. It was Spike. He strolled into the room carrying his duster. They watched as he grabbed a tattered cushion from the couch and used it to clean a sticky, whitish fluid from the lining of his coat.

He spoke without looking up from his task. "We goin' to the Watcher's then, or are you two just gonna stand there and play with your weapons all night?"

Angel ignored his Childe's lecherous smirk. "It might be better if Doyle and I go alone."

Spike threw the cushion aside and slipped on his duster. "Why? They know we're here. I'm not lurking in the soddin' shrubbery while you lot sit chatting. 'Sides, Xander wants to see 'em."

"All right," Angel agreed reluctantly, "but remember, I don't want any trouble. You do as I say, when I say it. Understood?"

The younger vampire's mouth tightened, nevertheless he nodded, albeit somewhat sullenly. Xander appeared in the doorway behind him; fresh puncture wounds on his neck.

Angel rolled his eyes. He glared at his Childe. "Do you *ever* think?"

Spike growled and pulled Xander toward him.

Looking confused and mildly anxious, Xander's fingers moved to the mark on his throat - the reason for Angel's displeasure. Turning up at Giles' wearing a bitemark was probably a bad idea.

Spike glared at his Sire, utterly unrepentant.

Angel gave up. Running a hand through his hair he sighed wearily. "Get in the car, both of you."

Spike threaded his fingers through Xander's and marched out the front door with an insolent sneer on his face.

Doyle shot his lover a sympathetic grin and followed them.

"I am way too old for this," Angel muttered. He snatched a crossbow from the table; sorely tempted to fire it into the backside of his eternally trying Childe.

"Way too old," he reiterated as he stepped outside. Spike had pinned Xander against the car and was ravishing the boy with gleeful abandon. Not that Xander was putting up much of a struggle. "Spike, let Xander get in the car." Neither moved. "Now!" Angel barked.

Spike released Xander with obvious reluctance. The youth almost slid into the gravel, Spike grabbed him neatly with one hand, yanking the door open with the other. He bundled the boy inside before climbing in after him. Doyle waited until the back door slammed shut before getting into the front passenger seat. Angel stowed the cross bow in the boot and got in. The car tore away down the drive and headed into town.

Part Seven

There was more to Spike's attentiveness than a desire for a swift grope. He could literally taste the fear and anxiety coming off the youth, and he didn't care for it one little bit. Figuring that the best way to calm Xander was to distract him, he fastened his lips to his lover's and didn't let up until they pulled up outside the Watcher's.

As soon as Angel stopped, Spike helped a flushed and rumpled Xander out of the car. He propped him against it and straightened the youth's clothing - fastening buttons and smoothing down thick, unruly hair. "You all right?" he asked, concerned at the panic swirling behind dark brown eyes.

Xander nodded stiffly. "Sure. Fine."

Spike just gave him a look and Xander sagged visibly.

"I don't think I can do this," he admitted. "I mean, what am I supposed to say? I should have written first, or phoned, or begged Buffy to tell them. You know, give them a chance to-" His babbling was cut short when Spike put a hand over his mouth.

"Breathe," the vampire instructed.

Xander breathed deeply through his nose.

When it evened out, Spike drew his hand away. He tilted his head toward the house. "They're your friends, yeah?"

Xander nodded.

"So figure they're probably gonna screech and flap about this. Be ready for it. Goggle-eyed hysteria ain't gonna help us here."

Xander understood. "I have to show I know what I'm doing."

"That's the idea, pet. Course, they won't believe it for a minute, but it's better than you raving and shouting." Spike glanced at Angel who stood waiting impassively. "Just don't be too quiet, we don't need another broody pain in the arse."

"Be myself, right," said Xander. "Okay, I can do that." He turned toward the house. "Right, just be myself, don't panic. Be myself."

"Er, pet."

Xander looked at his lover.

"You might want to watch the loony tune rambling," Spike suggested. "Talking to yourself doesn't give a real good impression."

Xander gave a wobbly smile. "Actually, I've pretty much always done that. You're just the only one who listens."

Spike regarded the youth solemnly, before dropping a quick kiss on his mouth. "Come on," he said quietly. "Time to face the bloody music." He held out his arm. Xander smiled weakly and looped his through it. They walked up to the door together and knocked loudly.

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

Xander wondered if he was going to barf. He clutched Spike's arm tightly and listened to the sound of footsteps moving toward the door. It swung open and he blinked as light streamed out. Giles stood, a large red book in his hand, and a look of mild consternation on his face.

"Xander, and...erm ...the rest of you." The Watcher frowned at Spike and then sighed heavily. "You'd better come in."

Angel offered a quiet 'Thank you', whilst Doyle nodded. Spike simply barged past the Watcher, tugging an unhappy Xander along with him. Xander stumbled into the room. He faced its occupants with a distinctly nervous smile. Willow was sitting on the couch; she jumped up, ignoring the others, and hurried over to him. He peered at her from beneath the bangs of his fringe. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

She stood, nibbling her lip - then suddenly threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. "Don't you *ever* do that again, Xander Harris."

Still holding onto Spike, Xander wrapped his free arm around her back and inhaled the sweet spicy fragrance of her hair. "I won't," he promised. "I didn't mean to leave like that, not without saying anything. It... it just sort of happened. I had to go, I'm sorry, I really am sorry."

He felt Spike squeeze his arm gently and he was grateful for the silent support. He'd known Willow must have been worried sick and he hated himself for hurting her. She was, and always would be his best friend. He made a promise never to hurt her again. He just hoped he could keep it with what he was about to disclose.

She eventually drew back. "Are you okay?" she asked searching his face anxiously. "Buffy said you were living with Angel." She suddenly seemed to notice the others in the room. "Oh, hello, Angel."

Angel smiled. "Willow." He took the opportunity to introduce the young man next to him. "This is Doyle."

"Hi," said Doyle.

Willow smiled shyly. "Hi." Then she looked back at Xander, blinking sharply as she noticed for the first time that her friend appeared to have a vampire attached to his arm, and not just any vampire....but - "Spike," she squeaked.

"Red," Spike replied, deliberately running his free hand down Xander's arm.

"You're-you're touching Xander. Why are you touching Xander? Xander, why is he touching you?" Her eyes were wide and nervous.

"It's okay, Will," said Buffy, coming forward to stand beside her. "I think that's why Xander is here." She looked at him. "Right, Xander?"

Xander felt the knots in his stomach tighten but he nodded. "R-right."

Giles frowned as he saw Xander's fingers blindly search out Spike's. "Xander, why exactly did you leave Sunnydale?"

Xander lowered his gaze. "Because Spike's not safe here," he said quietly.

"And that concerns you because?" Giles' voice sounded slightly strained.

Xander glanced at Angel and Doyle, who offered him encouraging nods. He then looked into Willow's puzzled, worried face. "Because I'm in love with him," he replied simply.

Willow's face crumpled. "You're....you're in...love...with.. with...?"

"With Spike," Xander supplied gently.

"Xander-" Giles began.

Xander cut him off. "-I know, I can't be in love with him. He's an evil, soulless vampire who's tried to kill us all." Xander shrugged. "I know all that. It doesn't change the way I feel. I love him, one hundred percent the real deal."

Giles turned to Angel in the hope of finding some sanity. He was out of luck.

"It's true. I know it's not what you want to hear," Angel looked at Buffy, "but sometimes we can't have what we want."

"Very poetic," Giles snapped. "It doesn't hide the fact that a nineteen year old boy is somehow involved with a century old demon," He turned to Xander. "Xander, this has to stop. You have absolutely no idea what you are getting into. There are real dangers here, not even counting the obvious ones."

Willow had remained silent all this time, now a look of dismay settled on her pale face. "Dangers?" she repeated.

Buffy also jumped on the word. "What dangers?" she demanded.

Xander felt a cold edge of panic slice through his false calm. He should have guessed the G-man would know something. He really didn't want to sit down and discuss his sex-life with everyone. That horrified thought made him realise something else - while admittedly they were freaking out about him getting cuddly with Spike, they weren't acting even remotely surprised about his other 'little' revelation.

"Forget the danger thing. I'm having the panic attack of all time telling you I'm gay, and no one's saying anything about it." He stared at them. "Why? This is a big deal. Okay, so it's not *as* big a deal as the other stuff. It's still big. Say something." He quashed the childish urge to stamp his foot at the end.

"You tell 'em, pet," said Spike with laughter in his voice.

"Spike, shut up," said Buffy. "Xander, it's not important now-"

"No," he cut her off. "It might not be.. be...important to you, but this is huge for me. I..." he looked at them, pleading for their understanding. "I *need* to know how you feel."

"You heard the whelp, answer him. Or don't you have the balls to give him the truth." Spike stared challengingly at them.

Giles sighed and sat back on his desk. He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. "I...I'm really not sure what you want me to say. My concerns don't arise from your... erm...orientation, Xander. I have no judgements on that matter."

"But you don't like it," said Xander coldly.

Giles frowned and looked at him. "That's not what I said. What I dislike is the idea of your being involved with a merciless killer. Gender has no part in my decision."

"So you're cool with the whole.. guy, guy thing? Xander asked.

Giles sighed again. "Yes, as I said, that doesn't concern me. Not if it's what you really want." He hesitated then added, "I admire you for having the courage follow your desires."

Xander felt some of the crushing panic subside. He turned to Willow. "Will?"

She blushed and ducked her head.

"Willow?" he pressed. "Please, I need to know you're still my friend."

Shocked she looked up. "Of course I'm still your friend." She socked him lightly on the arm. "That's for even *thinking* I wouldn't be."

"So why the sudden hot flush?" Xander asked. If anything the young woman grew even pinker. "Willow?"

"Ihaveagirlfriend."

"What?"

Spike translated. "She said she has a girlfriend." He grinned at the mortified redhead. "Good on you, girl. That pretty morsel of a witch, right?"

Willow nodded.

Xander stared wide-eyed. "You....you...have a *girl*, girlfriend. As in Tara? As in, you two *date*?"

Another nod. "I wanted to tell you, I just wasn't sure how." She offered him a slight smile.

He grinned and released Spike's hand to enfold her in a two armed hug.

"I'm happy for you, Will. Really I am." He pulled back and looked at her. "You *are* happy?"

Pink cheeked, her smile widened.

"Yep," said Xander. "That's a happy Willow all right." He hugged her again and then let her go.

"So, we're all happy then, yeah?" asked Spike.

"Not exactly," said Giles in a chilled tone. "There's still the small matter of your involvement. How deep is it? Are you simply amusing yourself, or should Xander be more worried?"

Blue became gold as Spike's features shifted. "Shut your fuckin' mouth," he growled.

Xander tried to calm his rattled lover. "Sssh," he murmured softly, "we're supposed to be playing it cool remember." He stroked Spike's arm feeling the tremors running through tensed muscles. Spike was seriously pissed. Xander turned on Giles. "Look, I don't know what you think you know, and it doesn't matter, because I'm not going to talk about it. I'm sorry, but this really isn't any of your business."

"No?" said Giles. He walked over to the bookshelf and withdrew a battered text. "Then perhaps you'd better borrow this. It's a journal, written by a young woman living in Paris in the late seventeenth century. It seems that she was once *fortunate* enough to be 'courted' by a vampire. She noted down some of what occurred. You might find it interesting."

"I doubt it," said Xander flatly. "I know you think I don't know what I'm getting into here. Just another case of 'poor dumb Xander', right? Well you're wrong. I know. Spike's told me. So just lay off with the menacing undertones, okay."

"Will someone please tell me what you two are talking about," said Buffy. Her mouth had a very familiar twist to it. She strongly disliked being left out of the loop.

Giles chose to ignore Xander's pleading look and Spike's hostile stare. He spoke softly and sadly. "If Xander chooses to remain with Spike he'll...change."

"Change?" Buffy repeated.

Xander willed the man to stay silent..

"Giles, *tell* me," said Buffy insistently.

Willow saw the sorrow in Xander's face and turned to Buffy. "Buffy, maybe we shouldn't-"

Buffy ignored her, pinning Giles with the full force of her gaze.

"Oh for fucks sake," Spike growled. "Tell the chit what you think you soddin' know."

"S-Spike?" Xander looked worriedly at his lover.

"They'll find out soon enough," Spike explained. "They might as well hear it now."

Reluctantly Xander agreed. He was grateful when Angel and Doyle moved to stand with them, in a less than subtle display of solidarity.

Giles looked uncomfortable. "I.....I don't know exactly," he admitted.

Spike snorted and muttered, "Tosser."

Giles sat up straight and replaced his glasses, switching into official 'Watcher mode'. "The journal was written by a Louisa Macon. She was from a respectable family and was well-educated for a young woman of her time. However, in her eighteenth year she became convinced that she was being stalked by a "foul spectre", who only showed himself to her in the dark of night."

Giles opened the book and carefully leafed through the yellowed pages.

"She writes of finding him in her room when the household had all gone to bed. She says he carried her out into the streets as silent as any ghost and took her to a fine house somewhere within the city. He gave her wine and made her dance with him in a room lit only by moonlight. He always returned her to her bed before dawn, and no one seemed aware that she had ever left it."

"What happened to her?" asked Buffy, breaking the spell that had fallen.

Giles looked at Xander. "She went mad. She writes of feeling a great evil flowing through her veins and of having committed sinful acts. When she repeatedly tried to harm herself, her family lost hope and had her locked away. The last line she wrote reads - "....I feel him inside me, even when he is not close by. He has crept inside my soul and may God save me, for I cannot drive him out. May God forgive the wickedness that now resides within me, for I cannot."

A coldness had settled over the room. Buffy turned to Angel, her face hard. "You knew about this."

"Yes," he said simply.

"And what?" said Buffy. "It just slipped your mind when I was in L.A?"

"No," said Angel, "it wasn't my place to tell you."

"Wait," said Giles, "Buffy, you knew about this?" He sounded appalled.

Buffy's tried to explain. "I...I knew some of it. I knew Xander was with Spike, but I didn't know any of this other stuff," she added quickly.

"You knew?" said Willow in dismay. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it wasn't..." Buffy stopped and then continued awkwardly, "it wasn't my place to tell you." She glanced at Angel.

"She's right," said Xander. "So's Angel." He sighed. "The thing is, I....I didn't want you to know because I knew you'd freak. Look, I'm sorry about what happened to Miss whatever her name was, but who's to say she wouldn't have gone loopy any way. Maybe she came from a long line of deranged women. Now I'm not saying I come from good stock, but the only certified crazy in my family was my great uncle John, and since he got blown up in the war, I think that's kinda allowed. What I mean is, I'm not her. I'm not French, and I'm not female, and I'm not mad."

"Xander, are you trying to say that you know something about these 'changes' that Miss Macon wrote about?" Giles asked.

Xander ignored the sick feeling in his belly and nodded. "Yes."

Giles stared at him in disbelief. "Xander, despite your manner on occasion, you are by no means lacking in intelligence. What on earth are you thinking in undertaking this....this *insanity*?"

Xander didn't answer straight away, he let his gaze travel around the room before settling back on Giles. "I don't know how to explain it. It's like I told Buffy, this just feels *right* to me. Maybe it is dangerous and crazy, maybe I'll lose my mind like.. like"- he pointed at the book -" like little Miss Dear Diary. All I know right now is I *need* this." He looked at Spike, smiling into fierce golden eyes. "I need him."

"Xander," Giles began awkwardly. "I....I know things are.. erm... difficult for you at home, but this isn't the answer. You're only nineteen, you have your whole life in front of you-"

"-yes and it's *my* life," Xander cut in.

Spike's mouth twitched, regarding his lover with frank admiration. The whelp was handling all the hassle pretty well.

Buffy still hadn't finished; though her ire was directed more toward Angel than Spike. "You can't expect me to just step aside from this."

"So what will you do?" asked Angel. "Kill Spike? You know how that would go down."

Buffy's expression said she did. If she wanted to take out Spike she'd have to go through Angel, Xander and Doyle to reach him.

"I guess you could lock Xander up," Angel continued, "but how long for? A month? A year? Ten years? What's the standard healing time for a broken heart?"

Buffy stared helplessly, her hands bunched into fists. Her Slayer instincts were going off the scale, but all her other senses told her. Angel was right. There was no way to separate Xander from Spike without using brute force, and if she did that, she would only succeed in hurting Xander. "Alright," her voice was low and angry, "just what are these 'changes'?"

Spike stiffened and Xander paled. However, it was Angel who calmly answered her. "All you need to know is he won't be hurt by it, and despite what Mademoiselle Macon wrote, Spike's demon cannot touch Xander's soul. Whatever 'evil' she spoke of infecting her was of her own mind, not anything of this."

"You haven't answered my question," said Buffy coldly. "*What* changes?"

"I've told you all I can," said Angel. "Anything else is up to Xander."

Buffy looked sharply at her friend.

He shook his head. "I...I can't, not yet."

"Xander-" she urged.

"Buffy, please," he said quietly, "later, okay. I'm fine. This is nothing bad, I promise."

Reluctantly she nodded. "Just remember, if you *ever* need my help-"

"-I've got it," said Xander quietly. He smiled at her. "You don't know how much I appreciate that. I'm glad you still care."

Tears blurred her eyes. "Of course I still care, idiot." She came forward and as he stepped away from Spike she hugged him. "You're my friend, Xander. Nothing changes that." He hugged her back, unable to find the words. Willow shuffled forward and placed her arms around them both as best she could. The three friends shared a tight group hug, before stepping away, rubbing at suspiciously bright eyes.

Xander turned to face Giles. "G-man?" he asked hoarsely.

Giles sighed. "I thought I asked you not to call me that." He held out his hand. Xander frowned but took it. Giles held it as he looked into the boy's face. "I share Buffy's sentiments, this is wrong, and it's dangerous. However, you are correct in saying that it is your life and your choice to make. I can only say that I hope, should you need our help, you won't hesitate to seek it." He shook Xander's hand somewhat awkwardly and then released it.

"I won't," said Xander, adding quickly, "I mean, I won't hesitate, not that I won't ask."

Giles nodded and offered the boy a brief, tight smile. "I understand."

"Are we through gabbing now?" said Spike irritably. "Only I thought we were 'ere to kill some sorcerer chap. He'll have died of fuckin' boredom if we carry on with this much longer."

Giles ignored the outburst and addressed Angel. "As I said earlier, there hasn't been any reports of any unusual magical activity in the town or the surrounding area. You may find you've had a wasted trip."

"I hope so," said Angel sincerely, "but Doyle's visions have a habit of being right. We've struck a hundred percent with them so far."

"Visions?" Giles repeated. He looked at Doyle. "You see portents of evil, an advanced warning system so-to-speak?"

"Well.. er...not exactly," said Doyle. "I mean, yeah, I see the bad stuff before it goes down, but I don't get much in the way of insider information."

Giles slipped deeper into Watcher/research mode. "And these visions, are they like dreams or are you fully conscious when they occur?"

"Oh, I'm conscious," said Doyle. "Though I hafta say, I'd be a lot happier if I weren't."

"Nasty, huh?" Buffy guessed. She'd had her share of unpleasant prophetic dreams, it was oddly comforting to meet someone who suffered in a similar way.

"Oh yeah," said Doyle. "We're talking *huge*, splitting headaches that make me wanna take an axe to my head. Figuratively speakin' of course," he added quickly.

Angel unconsciously stepped closer to his lover. "We'd better get going. We're going to stay in town for a few days at least. I'll let you know if we turn up anything." The silent question asked if they were prepared to repay the courtesy.

There was a moments awkward silence, then Buffy spoke. "I'll keep an eye out for anything 'unusual' while I'm patrolling. If I think it's worth mentioning, I'll let you know."

It wasn't the most gracious of offers but Angel understood how hard it was for Buffy to make it. "We're staying up at the mansion if you need to get in touch."

"You'd better lay low," Buffy warned. "From what I've heard the Initiative are pretty keen to see Spike back in his cosy little cell."

A low rumbling growl said what Spike thought of that idea. Xander was even less happy. "You won't tell them. I mean, you won't mention anything to Riley, about us being here."

"I won't lie to him," Buffy stated firmly, "but I don't see any reason why it should come up. As long as you stay out of sight, he shouldn't know."

Spike was ready to leave. He tugged Xander toward the door, throwing it open he turned back to face the room. "Well, it's been fun folks, and we really hate to be going so soon, but you know how it is. Things to do, people to kill, teenagers to fu-" Xander slapped a hand over his mouth and pulled him out of the house. Angel and Doyle followed.

Willow and Buffy stared after them, and then turned to look at one another. Their eyebrows stole up toward their hairlines as they clearly shared the same thought.

A rather flustered Giles returned his book to the shelf.

Part Eight

By the time they reached the car, Xander was shaking so hard he could barely stand. As his legs wobbled he leaned back against the passenger door. "Oh god," he groaned, "that went well, right?" He looked at them. "I mean, no one's bleeding, no one's dusted, so that went well."

"Give them time," said Angel. "You knew they wouldn't just accept this straight away." He added gently, "They might never be able to."

"I...I know," said Xander softly. "I guess I just wanted them to be happy that I'm finally happy." His mouth twisted bitterly. "Dumb, huh?"

"Not dumb," said Doyle. "They're your mates, they wanna be happy for yer, they're just worried that's all. I think that redhead was kinda rooting for yer."

Xander smiled. "Yeah, Will's cool." His smile turned slightly wondrous. "I can't believe that she's... well....she and Tara are, you know, together." He flushed.

"It was bloody obvious," said Spike.

"You didn't know," said Xander.

"Did too."

"Didn't."

"Did-"

"Enough, children," said Angel, "just get in the car." Everyone piled in, with Xander still demanding to know how his lover had known.

Spike grinned wolfishly. "I could smell 'em."

Xander's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "You could *smell* that they liked each other?" Clearly he didn't believe a word of it.

"Pheromones all over the bleedin' place, like two bitches in heat," said Spike crudely.

Xander jabbed him. "Hey, don't talk about Willow like that."

"Sorry, pet," Spike purred, rubbing up against the boy. "I like Red, you know that. She's a feisty little thing. If she's doing the witch good on her."

Mollified, Xander allowed the vampire's fingers to slip under his shirt. Truth be told, he was grateful for the distraction. The evening's events had left him sick and headachy; Spike's cool touch was soothing. He sank down into his seat and closed his eyes.

"You all right, luv?"

"Mmm," he answered, "juzzt.. tired..."

"We're goin' home," said Spike. "Get you summat to eat, and tuck you up in bed."

Xander opened one eye and smiled sleepily at his lover. "You take good care of me," he acknowledged .

Spike pulled him closer. "Course I do, pet. Don't I always tell you, you're mine. I take good care of what's mine." Feeling suddenly drained, Xander curled up against him, resting his head on Spike's chest. The sound of the engine, and the vampire's deep, rumbling purr calmed him - quietening the frantic thoughts rattling around inside his head.

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

Angel had already made the decision to drive back to the mansion. Tomorrow night would have to be soon enough to begin their investigations. Xander was far from fully recovered, the boy needed to rest. They all did. Even Spike was looking frayed around the edges, and quite frankly, so was he. Seeing Buffy always threw his feelings into chaos. He still had no idea how he was going to break the news to her. Would she even care? Was it selfish of him to want her to?

He glanced surreptitiously at his lover. Doyle looked pale but composed. He knew the young man was unsettled by Buffy - the natural concerns of a new love for a past one, and probably also his half demon instincts. All of 'their kind' tended to feel threatened by the Slayer, such was the order of things. Angel was concerned in that he hoped somehow the two would at least be able to get along. He had no worries that Buffy would hurt the young man.

He pulled up outside the mansion and got out, moving to open the back door. He assisted Spike in man-handling a half asleep Xander out of the car. The boy grumbled sleepily and then squawked as Spike lifted him up and slung him over his shoulder. Doyle came to stand beside Angel and the two watched the other pair enter the house.

"Ah, young love," Doyle joked.

Angel looked at him.

"What?" Doyle backed away nervously. "Hey, no, Angel man. I-" His voice rose as Angel swooped - snatching the young man up and slinging him over one broad shoulder. Doyle wriggled and yanked on Angel's coat to no avail. "This is unfair," he complained half-heartedly, "You've got that whole vampire strength thing going for yer."

"Yep," Angel agreed succinctly.

Doyle sighed dramatically. "Okay, you got me. Take me I'm yours." He flung his arms outward like a tragic heroine. His amusement turned to a shiver of anticipation when Angel replied simply,

"I intend to."

All Doyle could manage was a less than intelligent, "Oh."

"Unless you have any objections?" Angel asked.

"Objections? Wha-? *No*, no objections," Doyle replied hurriedly.

"Good."

Angel dropped him lightly on the bed at the far side the room. The fire had gone out, it was cold and Doyle was relieved when Angel set the blaze going again. He watched his lover walk toward him, slipping off his shirt en route. Doyle's breathing quickened as his gaze followed the line and curve of skin and muscle. When Angel stood beside the bed Doyle knelt up and reached for him, running his hands down the broad, smooth chest.

A sudden worrying thought struck him. "What about-?"

"-they won't disturb us," said Angel.

Doyle nodded. Fair enough. He turned his attention back to what was in front of him. He still had trouble accepting that all of this was real. He'd entertained fantasies of this for so long - though he had to say, the reality was even better. No amount of lustful contemplation could have given him this - the unearthly perfection of Angel's body.

He ran his fingers teasingly over the pinkish nipples, feeling them harden and pebble beneath his touch. He leaned in and traced the same path with his tongue, drawing a sensitive peak into his mouth. He suckled hard, enjoying Angel's answering moan. Strong fingers wound through his hair, pressing him closer. Doyle let his teeth graze the fleshy bud and Angel bucked against him.

With a growl the vampire pushed him gently back onto the bed. Clothes were shed with urgent haste. They came together with twin gasps as their bodies brushed skin-to-skin. It was Doyle's turn to moan and whimper as his lover's chilled tongue danced across his torso, swirling around his navel and up to the nipples already stiffening in eager anticipation. Angel paid the same loving attention to each, while his hands explored the rest of Doyle's body.

When those same strong fingers found his erection, Doyle cried out and arched up. The fingers slipped away to stroke his legs and belly, then returned to gently rub the precum around the tip. Doyle moaned. "Oh god." He was left dazed and bewildered when Angel drew away - but only for a moment. The vampire reached down into the bag beside the bed and withdrew a small flask of oil.

As Doyle watched, Angel poured some out into the palm of his hand. The young man jumped when the hand encircled his erection, cold oil and cool fingers moving slickly over his scorched skin. "Wha-?"

"I want you in me," said Angel hoarsely.

Doyle simply nodded. Angel handed him the flask and then rolled over. Shaking, Doyle poured out some more of the oil, letting it trickle onto his lover's back. He rubbed his fingers through the slippery pool, drawing it over Angel's body. He traced the tattoo, following the lines and whirls.

Angel's hands gripped the bedcovers as he purred softly.

Upon hearing that somewhat unexpected sound, Doyle blinked. Then he slowly smiled. He let his fingers travel down the smooth lean flanks and across the gentle curves of Angel's buttocks. The deep, rumbling grew louder - like the purr of an intensely contented tiger. Doyle could feel the reverberations through his fingers. He poured out another handful of oil, this time directing it between the taut cheeks. He drew his forefinger down the crease, just nudging the tight opening.

The purr was interrupted by a strange growl - one of need, not anger.

Doyle responded to his lover's wordless urgings and his own rising desire, pushing the finger forward until it slipped past the tight ring of muscle. Angel gave a rumble of approval and gently rocked his hips back, taking the slick digit in deeper. Doyle bit his lip to contain a moan. He eased a second finger in and carefully stretched the snug channel in preparation. He couldn't hold back any longer and he withdrew his hand, moving himself into position. "Okay?" he asked breathlessly. A growl was his only answer and he sank forward. His teeth cut his lip as he fought the urge to simply thrust into the silky tightness. His control was shattered when Angel suddenly pushed back, plunging Doyle deep into his body.

Doyle clutched his lover and tried to curb the need to come. He was unable to stifle the desperate need to move and Angel met him thrust for thrust. The tempo was ragged, drawing them both down into a spiral of heat and near mindless desire. The crackling flames were soon joined by breathy pants and low, growling rumbles, which grew louder and more rapid as the rhythm increased.

Angel came first, thrusting back hard as he howled his release. Slick muscles closed around Doyle's flesh and he gasped. With a shuddering groan he bucked his hips and came, before sinking forward bonelessly.

For a time they lay motionless, recovering from the rush of orgasm. Then Doyle drew back, and moved to lay beside his lover.

Angel rolled onto his side and pulled the young man close. "I love you," he murmured.

"Mmmm," Doyle agreed, wriggling closer and draping his leg across Angel's.

Angel smiled and snagged the corner of a blanket, drawing it over them both.

Part Nine

Spike had dropped his sleepy lover onto the bed, but a pressing desire for food had soon brought Xander back to full consciousness. Since they were supposed to be keeping a low profile, ordering take-out was pretty much a no-no. With that thought in mind, Spike had commandeered Angel's microwave, stowing it in the car, before installing it in the master suite. He now watched with amusement as Xander lay on the floor - eyes glued to the digital display. "Hungry, pet?"

Xander's only reply was the speed with which he moved as the timer pinged and he jabbed the door release. He pulled out the pot meal Spike had bought for him from a gas station en route. Using the plastic fork he shovelled the hot food into his mouth emitting little moans of happiness.

Spike gave him a bemused look and heated up his mug of blood before joining his lover on the floor.

A fire flickered in the grate, along with the muted glow of a bedside lamp, it bathed the room in a warm, golden light. They ate in companionable silence, until Xander set the empty tub aside and lay down on his leather coat with a contented sigh. A howl from next door made him sit up again rapidly. "Wha-?"

"Relax, pet. It's just Peaches working off a little steam."

Xander raised his eyebrows. "He's not normally so.. er...vocal"

Spike shrugged. "She always gets his bloody knickers in a twist. He'll be alright, demon-boy's givin' him a good seeing to."

Xander lay back down again, folding his arms behind his head. "What do you think of him?"

"Who?" Spike trailed a finger round the inside of his mug to catch the last of the sticky red fluid.

"Doyle."

"I don't," said Spike bluntly.

"You don't-"

"-think of him," Spike finished, a little too quickly.

Xander rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his elbow. "You like him," he said smiling slyly.

Spike glowered. "He's all right," he muttered ungraciously.

"Yeah, he is," said Xander. "He makes Angel happy."

"Which is a soddin' miracle," said Spike. "It was hard enough keeping the git in a good mood when he didn't have his fuckin' soul."

"Angelus had good moods?" Xander asked incredulous.

Spike gave up trying to get anything else out of his mug and set it down. He laid back beside the boy. "He had his good moods the same as any one. Course, it was usually when he was killin' or fuckin', but he could be quite perky about it."

Xander decided he didn't want to think too much about that. He changed the subject. "Buffy's being pretty good about us."

"I guess," said Spike.

"How do you think she'll handle the rest?" Xander asked, tilting his head toward the wall.

"Depends," said Spike. "If farm boy's keepin' her parts tingling she might not be too homicidal."

"She's pretty hot on Riley," said Xander. "Maybe she's finally got over Angel." That hope suffered a severe blow with the look he received. "Or maybe not," he added.

Spike shook his head. "It's got nothing to do with love anymore," he explained. "Least not the heart pounding, blood boiling sort. This crap is all just regret and memories, but they can have a powerful hold. Past love can be as strong as any other kind. You have to make the choice to bury it, or else eventually, it'll bury you."

"They haven't let go yet," said Xander, understanding.

"Not completely," said Spike. "Part of them knows it's over for good, but until all of them sees it that way, what they had'll keep chokin' them."

"Angel's ready to let go," said Xander.

Spike nodded. "He is, but is she?"

Xander looked troubled.

Spike decided they'd yakked enough; reaching out he grabbed Xander's arm and dragged the boy toward him.

"Wha-"

"Shut up," said Spike sealing his lips to his lover's.

Xander's protest melted as he gave himself to the assault. He tasted the lingering copper tang of blood and the rich, earthy flavour that was pure Spike. The vampire wasn't wasting any time - busy hands had already undone the buckle of his belt and were now drawing down the zipper. He jumped slightly as cold fingers brushed the warm skin of his belly.

Spike murmured into the kiss and pushed his hand lower, cupping Xander's waking flesh through the thin satin of his boxers. It twitched in response to the gentle caress, Spike squeezed very lightly and Xander groaned. Smiling slyly, Spike released the boy and wriggled down until his face was level with the open fly. He eased Xander's erection free of the material and blew over it gently.

"Oh god," Xander gasped hoarsely.

Spike's smile widened and he wet his lips before drawing the satiny head across them. Xander whimpered and twitched in his grasp. Spike let his tongue delicately probe the slit, lapping up a glistening jewel of precum. Xander murmured nonsensically and thrust his erection toward Spike's mouth. The vampire needed no further encouragement to let the hot flesh slip between his lips, suckling on it lovingly as he drew it deep into his throat. He held it there, just flicking his tongue around it lazily.

"Oh, please," Xander begged. "Suck it, *please* suck it."

<My pleasure, pet> Spike opened his throat and took Xander even deeper, drawing hard upon the rigid length. Xander's answering cry told him he'd hit the spot. He pressed his face into the boy's belly as he suckled, after a moment Xander stiffened and his mouth was flooded with rich, salty heat. Spike drank it greedily, continuing to suckle until the flesh softened and Xander whimpered softly.

He moved back up the boy's body, licking traces of cum from his lips.

"Good?" Xander grabbed him and kissed him fiercely. "I'll take that as a yes," said Spike, when he was finally released.

"Want you," said Xander urgently. "Want you now."

Spike growled and pushed the boy over onto his belly, yanking jeans and boxers down to Xander's ankles. Spike disliked being hobbled, so cursing impatiently he pulled off his boots and wriggled out of his jeans. He patted down his duster pockets searching frantically for the lube. He gave an exclamation of relief when his fingers finally closed around it.

In a state of high excitement, Spike prepared the youth hurriedly, but with care. Xander was making those soft, breathy sounds that made the stolen blood rush around his body. He coated his erection with shaking hands and spread the boy's cheeks, pushing in with one well-placed thrust. Xander cried out as he drove in deep.

"Oh god, *yes*."

Spike took this as reassurance that he wasn't hurting the boy. A theory that was enforced in the way Xander thrust back - urging him even deeper. Sheathed in tight blood heat, Spike closed his eyes; he was trembling. In that moment, he was certain if his heart could beat it would have broken through his rib cage with its hammering. He felt his features shift, razor edged fangs slicing through his lips. The blood dripped onto Xander's shirt, dark spots on the sheer blue fabric.

Xander wriggled. "S-Spike."

Spike growled and slowly pulled back, before sinking in again, even deeper than before.

Xander's fingers clutched at the stone floor. "Do-do it...again," he gasped brokenly.

Spike repeated the movement....again and again. Pulling almost all the way out and then sliding back in with sure, slow thrusts. Xander's breathing became fast and ragged, Spike began to pant. He seized the edges of Xander's shirt and ripped it open up the back. He ran his hands over the exposed skin before leaning forward - sinking his fangs through the tender flesh to reach the blood beneath. As the thick fluid gushed up into his mouth, Spike increased the rhythm of his thrusts, pounding into the youth with near frenzied urgency.

Xander's hands scrabbled to find purchase on the smooth stone flags as he tried to drive himself back onto Spike's erection. Deep wasn't deep enough, fast wasn't fast enough. He wanted more. With a savage grunt Spike gave him what he wanted. Xander gasped as he was stretched and filled almost beyond bearing. Despite his exhaustion he felt his flesh stir, and knew he was going to come again. Another hard shove and he slid forward across the floor. Spike grabbed him and pulled him back.

Xander's erection twitched and came fully back to life. He was grateful for the cushioning of his jacket, but the hard stone floor still pressed his flesh with near painful force. Spike was biting his back; he could feel the sharp fangs slicing his skin and the sticky hot blood running down his sides. Xander managed to push one hand under his body, holding his erection as Spike thrust into him. He felt as if every nerve in his body was connected to that one spot - the place Spike hit with every down stroke.

He shouted Spike's name as he came for a second time, his seed spilling stickily over his fingers.

Spike's thrusts grew more erratic and he tore his fangs free as he howled.

Xander felt his lover's seed rushing into him and he murmured Spike's name over and over. He was still chanting it when Spike turned him over and covered his face and throat in kisses. It was only when the vampire claimed his mouth that he fell silent.

Spike seemed quite content to curl up against his chest, but Xander was beginning to find the floor somewhat hard. "B-bed?" he suggested hopefully. He was grateful when Spike picked him up and carried him over to it. Everything was pretty fuzzy, and he wasn't all that confident about his motor skills.

The bed wasn't made - Spike had simply thrown down the mattress and heaped the blankets on it.

Xander sighed as he removed the remnants of his shirt....one down....

Spike slung his duster across the bottom of the bed and screwed his shirt and T-shirt into a ball, throwing them across the room. Naked, he nestled back against Xander's chest.

Xander smiled as he felt the rumbling reverberations through his body; he stroked the purring vampire and closed his eyes. Within seconds he was asleep.

The fire was little more than smouldering ashes when the purring finally stopped.

Part Ten

Taking a deep breath, Willow knocked on the front door of the mansion. A moment later it opened and she was greeted by the sight of a barefoot Angel, clad only in boxers and an unbuttoned shirt. He stood in the shade of the doorway - looking surprised, but not, she thought, displeased to see her.

She gave him a bright, "Hi," and an apprehensive smile.

He smiled back warmly. "Willow. Come in."

The interior was cool and dark; it took her eyes a few seconds to adjust from the glare outside. As soon as they did, her cheeks coloured and she quickly stepped back - onto Angel's foot. "Oh!" she exclaimed softly, her embarrassment deepening.

His expression was one of gentle bemusement. "It's okay, no harm done."

She ducked her head.

"You've come to see Xander?" he guessed.

Head down, Willow nodded.

"I'll see if he's awake," Angel offered.

He went out of the room, leaving Willow alone with the source of her mortification - the young, and quite obviously naked man sitting up in the rumpled bed. His name was Doyle, she remembered. He ran his hands through short, tousled black hair and flashed her a friendly grin.

"Hi... er...Willow, right?"

She gave him a quick affirming smile - trying not to stare as the tangled sheet rode low on his hips. Her mind was doing cartwheels. She'd never spent a great deal of time in the mansion, but she knew only two rooms were safely usable: the master bedroom and this one. So, if Spike and Xander were in the master suite, that meant Angel was in here......with Doyle.

Willow's mind disobeyed her wishes, absorbing various details, such as the quite obvious lack of separate sleeping arrangements. All the room contained was the one, large, rumpled double-bed. With a naked Doyle in it. Angel reappeared. "He'll be out in a minute," he told her.

"Uh? I mean, good." Willow drew in a deep breath.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked, and then added apologetically. "Not that we really have anything. I could get you a glass of water?"

"No...thank you. I'm fine," said Willow quickly. She wondered if it would be rude to ask if she could wait outside.

Angel wandered over to the bed; curiosity got the better of Willow's embarrassment, and her gaze discreetly followed him. He sat down next to Doyle. She saw the young man shoot Angel a slightly wary look - clearly directed at her presence. She watched as Angel smiled and shook his head. Her eyes widened as he brought his hand up to the young man's cheek, touching it in an unmistakably intimate manner.

Suddenly the room was no longer pleasingly cool, as the fiery heat in her cheeks spread rapidly through the rest of her body. She was saved from possible spontaneous combustion by Xander's timely arrival. At least, she *thought* it was Xander, and not his doppelganger. Though the emerald green shirt and the charcoal pants weren't like anything she'd seen him in before. Her heat wave intensified.

"Hiya, Will. Is everything okay?" Xander asked, a worried edge behind his welcoming smile.

"Uh huh, good, fine," she babbled nervously. "I just wanted to...to talk ...about...some... er...ah...stuff."

"Okay," Xander gently took hold of her arm, "let's go outside and talk."

With a parting nod to Doyle and Angel, he steered Willow toward the door.

"Stay close to the house," Angel called after them.

"Yes, mom," said Xander, jumping out of the way of the cushion Angel threw at him. He led an unresisting Willow into the warm, sunlit garden, blinking at the brightness. He'd recognised she was in the grip of near paralysing embarrassment, and had guessed its cause. He was proved right as the front door clicked shut and Willow sprang back to life. She snatched at him.

"Angel....Angel and Doyle...They....He..."

"Breathe, Will, " said Xander gently. He took her hand and walked her to the far end of the garden. He sat down on the edge of a stone trough and tugged her down beside him.

"B-but.. they're?" She looked at him stunned.

Xander didn't know exactly what his friend had seen, but he decided if Angel wasn't trying to be discreet it was because the vampire wanted Willow to know. Which meant he probably wouldn't mind Xander filling in a few blanks. "Yeah, they are."

"Together?!" she squeaked.

"Very."

Willow looked away. Xander could practically see the thoughts buzzing in her head.

"But...but doesn't that mean he's happy?" she asked, bewildered. "He's happy and he's not gone all 'eek' and Angelussy?"

"No," Xander assured her. "He's one hundred percent good guy, totally Angel, no 'us' in there anywhere."

She looked at him dazedly. "How?"

"It's kinda of complicated," said Xander. "The short version is - things are different, his curse is different."

"He's still cursed?" She sounded dismayed.

"Yeah, but it's okay. We did a spell," Xander smiled and shrugged. "Well, that is, Spike did a spell. I kinda hid behind the couch. Anyway, the thing is, Angel can't lose his soul like he did before."

"He can be happy," said Willow, understanding.

"Yeah," said Xander softly, "he can be happy."

"And he's gay now?" she asked faintly.

Xander chuckled softly. "I think it's different for them. I mean, vampires and demons, and the like. They don't seem to get all hung up on gender." He added, "Doyle was even married once" - forgetting that Willow was unaware of the Irishman's half-demon status.

She didn't pick up on it. "He seems....nice," she offered.

"He's a stand up guy," said Xander. "He and Angel have a good thing going." He hesitated. "Would you...I mean, it might be best if you don't say anything to the others. Not yet."

Willow's eyes narrowed. "You mean don't say anything to Buffy."

"He's going to tell her," said Xander quickly. "He just isn't sure how to."

Willow thought about it and nodded. "I won't say a word," she promised. "So long as he does tell her. It's not fair otherwise. If we all know and she doesn't."

"Do you think she'll freak?" Xander asked.

Willow shrugged lightly. "I don't know. She's been with Riley and his friends so much lately, I hardly see her." She sighed unhappily. "It's like everyone's changed. Giles isn't a librarian any more, Buffy's all gung-ho with Riley, Cordy's gone, Angel's gone, O-Oz is gone." Her voice hitched a little on her ex-boyfriend's name. She looked at him sadly. "You're gone too, aren't you?"

Xander didn't answer her straight away. Instead he took her hand; the one that was fiddling agitatedly with the hem of her skirt. Her fingers felt warm and tiny compared to Spike's. He held onto it as he explained. "I can't stay, Will. The Initiative won't ever leave Spike alone, and if he tries to go after them, Buffy will be less than pleased."

His expression grew slightly bitter. "Then there's the whole sorry mess with my folks - who will *never* get their heads around the idea of me being gay." He decided not to mention that also, Spike would quite possibly kill them.

Willow nodded understandingly and they sat in silence for a little while. Xander chewed his lip anxiously. Finally he asked, "Are you okay with this? I mean, with me and Spike?"

She looked at him. "It's kinda hard," she admitted. "Not to mention, sort of strange."

"Bad strange?"

"No," she said slowly, "Just strange, strange."

"Oh." He wondered if that was better.

She squeezed his hand. "I'm trying to understand, honestly I am."

"But it's creeping you out?" he guessed.

She flushed. "A little." Adding quickly, "Not the you being gay part. Just the you and Spike part." Seeing his crest-fallen expression she tried to put it better. "It's just a shock, that's all. Like when we all found out about you and Cordelia, but less ick."

Xander raised an eyebrow at her. "Less?"

Willow grinned. "Well, she was the 'Queen of Mean'. Spike's just 'Spike'. He's supposed to do the evil thing." Her grin faded rapidly. "He's not evil with you is he?" she asked anxiously.

Xander shook his head. "No, he's...." -Xander smiled- "he's pretty amazing." He noticed her odd look. "What?"

She poked him gently. "You did the thing."

"The thing?"

"You know." She raised her eyes to the sky, and clutched her free hand to her chest in a dramatic manner. "'Oh, be still my beating heart'."

Xander flushed and ducked his head.

"You weren't like this with Cordy. Or Anya," she added.

Xander glanced at her through his fringe. "I wasn't?"

"Nope. Then you were all jumpy. Like you'd forgotten something important, like a maths test."

"What do I look like now?"

"Happy," she said softly, pushing his fringe out of his eyes. "You're not ever coming back, are you?" Her bottom lip trembled.

Xander swallowed hard. "No."

Fighting back tears, Willow nodded. "I...I understand. Things are better in L.A. You....you can work for Angel....and....and y-you've got Spike."

"I'll miss you," said Xander, his own voice rough with tears.

She pulled her hand free from his and wrapped both her arms around him. "I hate this," she wept, "You're m-my...best...f-friend. I don't want you to go."

"I have to," he said helplessly.

"I...know," she sobbed.

He hugged her tightly then gently pushed her back so he could look into her face. He tenderly wiped away the tears that trickled down her cheeks. "Come and visit," he urged. "You can bring Tara. We're going to get our own place. I'll make sure it has a guest room."

She smiled through her tears. "Sleepovers?"

He nodded.

"Spike won't mind?"

"No, he likes you."

"He does?" She sounded doubtful.

"He thinks you're 'feisty'," Xander quoted.

That made her giggle.

Xander smiled too, pleased to have stolen some of the sadness from her face. "So," he pressed. "You'll come?"

Willow nodded. "I could come in the holidays, after I've done the relative thing. I'll have to study some, but I could stay for a few days." She smiled shyly. "And I can really bring Tara? You....you won't mind?"

"Of course I won't," said Xander. "I like her. Okay, I don't really know her, but she seems nice."

"She is, she really is," Willow enthused.

"Be still my beating heart," Xander teased.

Willow gave him a mock indignant look and began to tickle him.

"Aah.. no...no...Ah....Will....stop...stop...Ah," Xander gasped. He was completely at her mercy. The fiendish red-head, otherwise known as Willow Rosenberg, knew all his most ticklish spots. He tried to catch hold of her hands. As he did so he froze.

She caught his expression and stopped trying to wiggle free. "Wha-?"

"Move!" he shouted, pushing her to the ground.

The loose stones cut her hands as she slid forward - as a shaggy-haired beast hurled itself at the place where she had been sitting. Willow cried out as the creature quickly turned on Xander. Frantically, she searched around for something to hit it with. One piece of fallen masonry was too heavy to lift, a smaller lump glanced ineffectually off the creature's back.

It growled and snarled, foaming jaws centimetres from Xander's throat.

"Xander!" she yelled, and in desperation began to use her fists and feet to punch and kick the beast.

"R-run," Xander gasped. "W-Will, run."

She ignored him and continued to strike out at the creature savaging her friend. It lashed out, sending her flying back across the courtyard. She hit her head on an upturned marble urn and everything went fuzzy. She was trying to get back to her feet when she heard a howl of rage behind her. Fearing another attack, Willow looked round.

Her eyes focused blurrily on the mansion doorway, where Spike stood - apparently ready to plunge out into the deadly sunlight - Angel held him back as he howled and clawed to get free. Another figure came past the struggling pair. Doyle. The young man spared her a brief worried glance. She waved him away. "I'm..fine. Help Xander."

As he turned from her she realised his face was changing. Pale skin was now a sort of greenish blue, peppered with dozens of tiny spines. Dazed, she stared as he seized the creature by its shaggy pelt, dragging it back. Xander was free, but the beast now turned upon its attacker, leaping onto Doyle and pinning him to the ground. He punched it and it roared in rage. Terrified, Willow looked back at the mansion - her anguish was mirrored in the faces of the two vampires, trapped by the lethal sunlight.

Xander scrambled to his feet and dived back into the fray. He managed to get an arm around the creature's neck and tried to hold its jaws away from Doyle's throat. As he pulled and twisted there was a sickening crack and the growls stopped. The creature went still. Confused, Xander let it go and staggered back.

Willow got up. She watched Doyle push the creature off; it rolled onto its back, limbs limp and heavy. She stared, stunned, and then looked across at Xander. "You...you broke it."

Xander seemed equally shocked, his pale face had a slightly greenish tinge. Doyle stood and took hold of his arm. "Come on, man. Let's get you back to the house before Spike goes up in flames." He led the dazed youth back toward the mansion, collecting Willow on the way.

"He broke it," she repeated.

"Yeah," said Doyle glancing worriedly at Xander, "it's broke all right."

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