Waiting Here

By Alexandria

Part Thirteen

Buffy just stared at the policeman in shock. No, she shook her head firmly. No, this was impossible. This could not be happening. There was no way the words he was saying could be true. Her hands balled into fists as she moved to stand immediately in front of the man blocking her way into the hospital room. No. This could not be.

"I already told you, miss, you can't go in there. This is an ongoing investigation."

"Get. Out. Of. My. Way." She glared up at him, violence pouring off her in waves. This, this, this idiot was standing in her way, was in between her and whatever it was that had almost killed Xander. She reached up, ready to simply throw the stupid cop over her shoulder when she felt Giles' hand grab her arm.

"Sir, sir," Giles managed to call out as he yanked the startled Slayer away. "We are friends of the, the victim," his voice caught a little at that. "And we want to know what happened." He turned his best authoritative glare on the man, the one that sometimes even managed to get Spike to listen. Buffy began to squirm in his arms.

"Let go, Giles, why did you," she hissed out.

"Because there are witnesses and other police and you don't want that attention," came the quiet answer in her ear. Buffy's eyes widened slightly then she nodded. Fuck. She hated it when Giles was right.

The policeman turned his attention to Giles, clearly glad to speak to an adult. "As I was telling the girl," Buffy bristled at that, "the investigation is ongoing. There is no way you can go in there." The harsh voice softened a little. The group staring back at him obviously were friends of that boy they had brought in. "Look, the bastard who did this got shot for his trouble, he's not going anywhere for a long time." Not for a very long time if what he had picked up on the radio was true. He looked down at the pretty blonde staring back at him, fire in her eyes. It looked like she was ready to tear whatever hurt her friend from limb to limb, and, if that sick prick chained to the bed in there had really stabbed and raped his own kid, well, he was tempted to let her. Couldn't though. "Why don't you just go back, stay with your friend. I'm sure that he would appreciate the support when he comes to."

Buffy just glared back. No. She wanted to see for herself what beast had done this, what sick thing had dared come after Xander in his own home. Frustrated, she turned back to Giles.

"No. I'm going in there." She began to move forward again, and this time it was Willow who stopped her.

"Buffy, I want to go in there too, but, he's right, we can't." Willow's voice shook. Her best friend, her family was lying in a hospital bed, lucky to be alive. And the thing that did it was right behind her and she couldn't destroy it. Not yet. "Xander needs us. We'll go back, maybe that nice lady cop will come by later."

Buffy hurled once last hateful look at the officer, who flinched back as if slapped.

"Fine, be the voice of reason why don't you."

She stalked back towards Xander's room, shaking with impotent fury. A sudden thought flashed through her mind. **This must be what Spike feels, can't do anything, can't protect him** Her stomach twisted at the thought. She knew how protective Spike was, remembered clearly the way he had done anything to help Dru, even teaming with her, his mortal enemy. Some part of her recognised that what Spike felt for Xander was far stronger than what Spike had felt for Dru. And now Spike was reduced to sitting and waiting, unable to bring back the monster's heart as a fitting present for his love. The rage inside her burned higher. Fine. She could wait. Give them more time to plan. Give Spike a chance to show her exactly how to use those railroad spikes that earned him his name.

The gang turned back with her, moving smoothly together as they always did. Giles moved to Buffy's side, anxious to speak with her.

"Buffy, what exactly did you mean earlier?" He looked over, curious. He agreed completely, whatever had caused Xander such pain must die. But to hear it come from his charge. . . The greatest crime a Slayer could commit was to kill a human. And it sounded like Buffy intended to do exactly that.

"I mean that since Spike can't avenge Xander, I will do it for him." The words were flat, nearly emotionless. Nearly. The coldness of the tone served to only hide the fire behind the thought.

"Buffy," he reached to take off his glasses, the gesture not calming him like it should. "You can't kill a human either."

Buffy came to an abrupt halt, causing Willow and Tara to nearly run into her, while Anya managed to stop just before crashing straight into Giles. She looked up, unnameable emotions playing across her face.

"Who said anything about killing?" She knew killing was out. No one had mentioned anything about not torturing humans, however.

Anya smiled proudly at Buffy. She had always known the Slayer had it in her. "That's true, Giles. I know that Slayers can't kill humans but in all my time I never heard anyone say they couldn't hurt them. I mean, I've seen Buffy accidentally hurt humans sometimes and nothing happened. So, obviously, she could just hurt him a little. A lot. I know this great thing," she turned to the witches excitedly. She was just as angry as the rest of them. Just because she had left Xander didn't mean she didn't still care for him. "Where can we get some lizard eyes, we'll need them to make the paste. . ."

Giles quickly cut her off, recognising the glint in her eye. "Buffy, technically, I suppose that's true, but this is a police matter. You heard the man, they caught him, shot him, even, so there's nothing we can do." He heard the faint hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Giles, what are they going to do? Send him to prison for a little. Fuck that. He has to pay." They started walking down the hall towards Xander's room.

---

"Get the fuck away from him."

Spike stood toe to toe with the two men who were trying to wake his Xander. He had suddenly jerked awake, sensing something in the room and had found these bastards trying to shake Xander awake. He had instinctively started to slip into gameface, but the warning flash of pain had been enough to restore his control. He knew he had to maintain his human façade to ensure that he could remain at his beloved's side. That didn't mean he couldn't still try to protect what was his, though.

"Sir, look, we need to speak with him." One of the detectives held up his hands trying to calm the furious man in front of him. **Wow, they were right, he's like an animal** Officer Healy had warned them before going up that Xander had a very protective boyfriend and to be careful how they approached the situation. They had nodded, sure they could handle an upset partner. They hadn't been prepared in the least for the predatory glare which now confronted them.

"Sir," the other detective started, only to find vicious blue eyes staring him down. He stopped, swallowing hard. "Sir, we just need to talk to your boyfriend there, just need to find out what happened." He spoke in what he hoped was a soothing manner, sure that the man before him was growling.

"Sod off. He's sleeping." The growling had changed to a snarl. "Heard you already know. The fucker broke in, stabbed Xander," Spike's eyes shut as his whole body shook at that thought. "Stabbed him, raped him," Spike's voice went quiet at that. He looked down, barely controlling his rage. He looked back up, only the shaking of his voice and the faint flickers of yellow in his eyes betraying him. "You showed up, shot the bastard. Brought him here." Spike swallowed hard. "Not much else to find out now is there. Get out."

The detectives turned as they heard several people enter the room. A small blonde, a middle aged man, a small redhead holding hands with another girl, yet another girl.

"Spike, what's wrong? Who are they?" Willow moved quickly to his side, taking a hand, trying to calm him down.

"They're leaving." Spike continued to stare them down even as he curled his fingers into Willow's.

"Sir, we really need to speak to him," the detectives began again, only to find the small blonde had suddenly moved in front of them as well.

"No. He's sleeping. Let him be." Buffy folded her arms. This she could do. Some small way to protect Xander.

"Listen, we aren't trying to hurt him," **Great now there's a whole group of them**

"Spike"

The small voice stopped everyone in the room. Spike turned and was by Xander's side in an instant.

"I'm here, luv. I'm here." He reached over to get some ice, running a cool hand through Xander's hair, heart breaking as he looked into those brown eyes. "How do you feel?" Everything else faded away, only Xander mattered, only Xander remained.

"Like I got stabbed," came the faint voice, a small smile crossing his lips. Spike just stared down at him. "Hey, give me a break, not at my best here." He reached over, taking his lover's hand.

Xander just stared into Spike's eyes. He hurt. Everywhere. All over. The incision in his chest burned, his ribs ached with every breath. He could feel where his father had ripped into him. It didn't matter. He was holding Spike's hand, feeling Spike's fingers in his hair, hearing the quiet purring rolling down. Happiness spread through him. He thought he had lost them all forever.

He gradually became aware that the room was filled, that the rest of the gang was there, that there were some strange men still fighting with Buffy.

"Spike, what's going on?"

"Some stupid gits who want to talk to you. Slayer will make them go away." Spike continued to smooth his hands over every part of Xander he could touch, careful not to pull any of the wires or tubes that still covered Xander's body. "Do you hurt, do you want the doctor?"

"No, I'm fine." He heard a snort at that. "Ok, not fine, but you know." He swallowed, needing to know, but not wanting to ask. "You know what happened." A statement.

"Yes. Do you know they shot him?" Spike's eyes flashed yellow at the look of shame that suddenly crossed Xander's face, the scent of it striking him. Spike took a calming breath, the unnecessary action focusing his attention away from the rage that still burned him.

"Is he alive?"

"Yes. Not for long." The promise of it rang strong in Spike's voice. Xander just nodded.

He looked up to see the two men still engaged in a furious battle with Buffy. He smiled again, the men seemed surprised that such a little thing was so effective at keeping them away. "Who are they?"

Spike just glanced up, uncaring. "Some wankers from the police, want to talk to you. Told them to sod off." He spared another second to make sure that the Slayer was still holding them back. Good. **Knew she had some use**

Xander nodded again then tried to sit up, a wave of pain hitting him as he did so. **That's not a good idea** "Um, Spike, what did they want to know?"

"Don't know. Don't care."

"Spike, I'm going to have to talk to them," Xander sighed. This was not going to go well, he was so tired, still a little hazy from all the medicine. However, the sooner he got it over with, the sooner it would be done.

"No," Spike began. There was no way in hell that he was going to let them upset Xander, not now, not while those dark circles were under his eyes, that tube still under his nose, that thin line of blood visible where the incision had ripped open Xander's chest. "No fucking way."

"Spike, look I don't want to do this either, but you know I have to, they'll just keep bothering us if I don't. Besides," a small smile again crossed his face. "I'm still kinda drugged up, won't remember it later I bet." **Liar, liar, pants on fire** The feel of his father's hands throwing him into the wall, the sound of his father's voice, the sick look of triumph on his father's face when he raised the knife, the sound of it sinking into his flesh, the pain which had ripped him in two, the utter shock as his blood gushed out of his body, the agony of knowing, knowing that he would never touch Spike again, never get to say his name, never tell him he loved him, never again, all were burned into him. He would never forget that.

"No." There was no way that Spike was going to let them upset Xander. No. **So pale, so cold** "You're cold, where's another blanket?" Spike turned his head slightly. "Red, get me a blanket, there's a luv."

"Spike," the vampire turned back, hearing the note of resolution in Xander's voice. "Stop it. I have to do this. Have to get it over with."

Spike looked down. He knew that look. The look that said "Hey, you won't like it. Tough shit. Still doing it." Spike let out another sigh.

"Fine, pet, but the rest are leaving." No need to have an audience, besides, Spike knew there would be questions that Xander wouldn't want to answer quite yet. He knew they would ask about all the past times, knew that Xander would finally have to discuss it, finally have to admit all that happened. It was going to be hard enough without having to tell his friends that way.

"Deal." Xander nodded shakily. He didn't want to see the looks on everyone's faces, couldn't deal with that quite yet.

"Sure, pet?" At the quick nod, he leaned over, kissed Xander quickly, then stood.

"Right. Well mates, against my better judgement, the whelp there will talk to you. But the rest of you have to leave." He heard the protests, but ignored them. "Out. Now." A low growl accompanied the words, making it clear there was no choice.

Giles gathered up the protesting gang, catching Spike's eye on the way. There was something very wrong here. There was no reason for Spike to throw them all out if Xander was just going to give a statement about what happened. It may be upsetting, but surely Xander wouldn't want to explain twice. Spike just looked back. Giles frowned. Something was very wrong. Giles heard Spike pull the door shut behind him, blocking out any further questions.

---

Xander let out a heavy sigh. It had not gone well at all. The detectives were polite, calm but insistent. They made him go through everything that happened over and over, and it had been all Xander could do to keep Spike from trying to rip their throats out. Spike had sat next to him, getting him water, holding his hand, trying to pour his strength into Xander. The worst had been when they had started questioning him about the rape. He didn't remember it, not really. Once the knife had pierced his flesh, he had collapsed in agony. He vaguely recalled feeling his pants pulled down, but that was about it. But they had kept questioning him, kept pushing him and he had been forced to reveal everything, even things he had never told Spike. He had been very glad at that moment that Spike had turned his back to the men, because the second he mentioned how he could always tell when it was coming by the sound of the footsteps on the stairs, Spike had gone all vamp. The yellow eyes burned into his, a vow of retribution present there. One hand had continued to hold his, but the other had moved to the grasp the arm of the chair. Xander had focused on that hand as he spoke, the years of abuse pouring out of him, watching as Spike slowly crushed the arm, bending the metal into unrecognisable shapes.

When he had finished, he had been handed some business cards. Spike had ushered them out and then returned to his side. Xander had started to cry, but every breath just caused more pain. Spike had held him for a short time before getting a nurse, insisting that they gave him some kind of pain medication. The medicine hit him fast and he had fallen into a heavy sleep. Now, he was awake once again and could hear the quiet fight above him.

"Look, Watcher, it's none of your fucking business."

"Spike," the familiar sound of exasperation. "Be realistic. Sooner or later, we are going to find out what happened. It's obvious that something beyond a simple attack occurred. Once the police press charges, everyone will know. You might as well tell us."

He heard Spike pacing back and forth. "No. It's Xander's decision, it's his right to tell. And if he doesn't want to, then you lot had best leave him alone."

"We aren't trying to hurt him, we just want to know what happened." Giles continued, only to be stopped by a vicious growl.

"Too bloody late for that. You lot had your chance for years. Didn't even notice."

"Notice what," a huge sigh came from Giles. "Really, this secrecy is ridiculous. Whatever it is can't be that bad."

A disgusted snort. "Fucking humans. Think you know all about evil. You don't know the half of it. Think you're so smart. Can't even see what's right in front of you."

"Spike, what ARE you talking about?" The confusion was evident.

"As I already said, none of your fucking business, Watcher. Get out."

"No."

Xander finally forced his eyes open, unable to listen any longer.

"Will you two shut up already?" Once again, Spike instantly came to his side. "What's going on?" He looked over, Giles and Spike were the only ones in the room. "Where'd everybody go?"

Giles moved over and looked down. "I sent them to get something to eat. How are you feeling?"

"Like I was stabbed, covered that already." Xander looked back up. "What's going on?"

"That git" "Xander, I am just concerned," "Bloody ponce," "Now, there is no need. . ."

Xander interrupted again. "Guys, focus here. What's the fight about?"

Spike turned back to Xander, shooting one last nasty glance over to Giles.

"They want to know what happened, won't take no for an answer."

"Xander, it's more than that. It is obvious that this is something more than a random robbery or the like. We just want to know what truly happened."

The concern was evident in Giles voice. He had not been able to get any information in the few hours that had passed. The police had finally told him that an arrest had been made, but they would say nothing else. However, he had found something which made his blood run cold. He had returned to the room after the detectives left and had entered when he saw Spike leave to get a nurse. Spike had left the cards sitting on a side table and Giles picked one up. A name and then one other line. Special crimes section. Giles felt his heart stop. He knew what that euphemism was used to describe. Rape and sexual abuse investigations. He had slipped out of the room, then sent the rest out for food, telling them that Xander was asleep anyway. He had come back to confront Spike when Xander had stopped them.

"Whatever it is, you can tell us, you know." Giles removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had no idea how to handle this.

Spike's head shot up, catching some faint undercurrent to the words. "Watcher, get out. Need to talk to my mate here in private for a minute." Spike tried leering, figuring maybe those oh so perceptive eyes would mistake his intentions.

Giles nodded, not fooled in the least. "I'll be right outside."

Spike turned back to Xander, fussing with the pillows, making sure that Xander was comfortable. Xander put up with it for a minute, enjoying the attention, before he grasped Spike's wrist.

"Spike, what's wrong, there's something, just tell me. Are you mad that I didn't tell you all that stuff before," tears began to spill down his cheeks.

"Bloody hell, no." Spike placed his hands on either side of Xander's face, gently pulling Xander's head up to see his eyes. "No, I'm not mad at you. I'm going to destroy that fucking waste of flesh, but you have nothing to be ashamed about, nothing to worry about." Spike dropped quick kisses on Xander's head, aching to pull him into his arms.

"Stupid wires, can't even hold you properly, hate fucking hospitals." Spike closed his eyes, gathering his courage. This had to be done. "The police called earlier while you were asleep. They arrested that bastard. He's going in front of a judge tomorrow. They are charging him with several things, attempted murder, breaking and entering, rape." He steeled himself. **Now the hard part** "They expect it to be on TV, in the papers and the like." Spike felt the waves of anger, pain, shame and humiliation begin to pour from Xander.

"Everyone will know," Xander's eyes went wide. "Fuck, everyone will know, they'll know, oh fuck." **Hate me, know, hate me, dirty, hate me, know, know, leave me, hate me, dirty, dirty, dirty** He began to shake as the shame burned him. "Everyone will know, have to leave, everyone will know." He began to pant, ignoring the pain, the world going dark, blackness filling in the corners of his eyes. He began to unconsciously run his right wrist along the edge of the bed, needing the friction, needing the pain, feeling the IV begin to pull from his hand.

Spike hissed and then gently reached down and took Xander's hands in his own, stopping the motion. Grief spilled over him, watching Xander pull further and further inside, watching him slip away, watching Xander lose everything they had fought so hard to gain.

"Xander, look at me."

Xander just shook his head, closing his eyes tighter. **Can't look, no, hate me, dirty, hate me**

"Xander, please," Spike's voice broke, "Please, look at me. I love you. You didn't do anything, you didn't make him do this, you didn't cause this. I love you. Always love you. Please, just please," a hand reached up to caress the side of Xander's face, the other still holding Xander's right hand, trying to still the motion. "Please."

It was the sound of pain in that last word that finally snapped Xander out of his thoughts, the sound of his own agony reflected there. "You, you love me, even after everything," Xander's throat closed and he took a shaky breath. "After everything, you love me?"

Spike just nodded unable to speak. He didn't need to, the expression on his face revealing the truth.

Xander leaned up as far as he could and just managed to capture Spike's lips with his own. Crushing them together, he began to kiss Spike with everything he had, ignoring the pain his actions caused. Spike responded in kind, the events of the last day destroying them both, burning them down until only this was left. Pain, rage, terror, hatred, love, longing, all were there, all mingling with the taste of salt and blood as the tears poured down both their cheeks. Finally, Xander was forced to pull away, forced to gulp in the air.

Spike leaned him back, letting Xander regain control. Xander's breathing finally calmed, and he let out a small laugh.

"Surprised they didn't come in when the heart monitor went nuts like that."

Spike chuckled back, awed as always by the way Xander's sense of humour survived everything. "Probably would have if it wasn't for the camera."

He quirked an eyebrow as Xander's head tilted up to see that, sure enough, there was a camera over the bed. A smile slowly worked its way across Xander's lips. **Hmmmm, camera**

"So, there's a camera over the bed. That could be fun. Spike, ever wanted to be in a porno?" The grin widened. He had tasted the truth of Spike's words. Spike loved him, cherished him, didn't think anything was wrong with him, thought he was pure.

Spike opened his mouth in shock and then smirked. "What makes you think I'm not already?" Xander grinned back. The smiles slowly faded as they heard footsteps in the hall.

"I have to tell them, don't I?"

"Yes." Spike moved down from his perch on the side of the bed. "Do you want me to do it?" Anything, he would do anything Xander asked.

"No, I will." A deep breath, then Xander nodded. "I know just where to begin."

Xander watched as everyone trooped back in, Buffy, Willow and Anya all coming over to kiss him gently on the cheek, Tara shyly waving and Giles just standing at the foot of the bed. Spike was now standing next to him, unable to sit. Giles looked over, seeing the tension coiling in Spike. Spike nodded.

"Ask away. You won't like the answers." The quiet words cut through the chattering in the room.

Giles just nodded. "Xander, why don't you tell us what happened."

A quick glance up to see Spike standing there, still but for the clenching of the muscles along his jaw. Xander took in one more breath then started, determined to get this all out at once.

"Ok, but it's not a simple story. And no interruptions, have to do this once." Another look up, a quick squeeze of Spike's hand.

"Buffy, remember you asked how Deadboy and I hooked up? Didn't quite tell you the truth. Right after Anya and I broke up, Spike stopped over to see me one night. He found me lying in a pool of blood in the bathroom. My father had beaten me pretty badly." He heard the shocked gasps. He had decided not to tell them the entire truth, he couldn't deal with that right now. There was no need to reveal everything just yet. "Spike got Willy to send a doctor to fix me up then he moved in with me to make sure that I wasn't hurt again. Well, that night we told you I was mugged, that wasn't exactly true, it was my father again. That's when Spike told me I had to move and we left the next day. Then, about a week ago, we ran into my father at Wal-Mart, he saw us kissing, went nuts. Last night, **only a day ago, feels like forever** I was studying, sent Spike for coffee, heard the elevator, thought it was Spike, went to the door. It was my father, he threw me into the wall, called me a faggot, said, said, I was a disgrace, that he should have killed me a long time ago, then he stabbed me." Xander stopped, out of breath from having run through it all so quickly.

He looked up to see the shock on everyone's faces. It was Buffy who managed to speak first.

"Your father, your father did this to you," her voice rose steadily. "Your fucking father, that bastard," Buffy shook, furious. His father. His father.

Willow looked up, tears streaming down her face. "He hit you, did he always hit you, why didn't you tell me, could have done something," her breath began to hitch. How could she not have known.

Spike just watched them, waiting for the question, seeing it in the Watcher's eyes.

"Xander, I am so sorry," Giles voice came quietly drifting down. "I don't understand though, why didn't Spike just take you to hospital that first night? Why go through Willy, why not call us?" He heart was heavy, knowing the answer, sending prayers to every god he could recall that he was wrong.

Xander closed his eyes, unable to look at them as he said the words. "Because my father didn't just beat me. He raped me, too."

Dead silence. Then howling, the voices mingling. Buffy's, Willow's, Anya's. A loud snap as something snapped in two. Through it all, Spike's hand in his, grasping tightly, giving him strength.

"Raped you, he raped you, oh goddess, Xander," Willow grasping his other hand. He forced open his eyes, seeing the agony on her face. "Xander, why didn't you tell me, why didn't you tell us, that's horrible, how could he have done that," Xander saw the realisation hit her and saw her knees buckle, saw Tara rush to catch her as she fell.

"Not the first time, Xander, why didn't you. . ." Willow began to shake. Best friend, her best friend, known him forever, part of her and she never knew. How could she not know.

"How long?" Buffy's voice. Cold, clipped, insane. Xander forced himself to meet her eyes. They looked like Spike's had that night, so long ago, when Spike had come racing into the basement. Absolutely burning hatred. Utter rage. Pure vengeance.

"Since I was eleven."

Willow's sobbing grew even harder, Tara trying desperately to calm her, to get her to breathe. Eleven. The words pounded into her. Eleven. All those years.

Spike just watched them, part of him enjoying the scene. They deserved this. Deserved to have their world destroyed, deserved to suffer for their blindness. Deserved to pay for their crime. They never saw, never wanted to see. Another part of Spike protested. That wasn't true, they hadn't seen because Xander hadn't wanted them to see. Spike ruthlessly shut that part of his mind down. It didn't matter. They had hurt what was his. Now they hurt in turn. It was only right.

Giles moved to stand in front of Spike. "You knew." Blunt accusation.

"Yes, walked into the middle of it. Tried to kill the bastard but couldn't. Fucking chip. Managed to slam him into the wall at least." Spike's voice was as cold as the Slayer's.

"Why didn't you say something?" Giles lashed out, trying desperately to find someone, anyone else to blame. It all made sense now. Xander's jumpiness, the use of humour as a shield, the way he never talked about his family, the curious lack of self-preservation. He should have known. Maybe he had known but ignored it.

"Asked me not to. So I didn't. Wouldn't have now but it's all going to come out."

Giles slowly backed away, knowing Spike was telling the truth. Buffy quickly moved to take his place. They eyed each other levelly, silently reaching an agreement. Buffy turned to Xander, reaching out to take his hand.

"Xander, I'm sorry, I'm so terribly sorry," Buffy stopped as the tears filled her eyes. No. She would weep later, now was not the time. "Just know this one thing. He will pray to die before Spike and I are through with him. He will beg and beg and we will show no mercy. I'm sure that Spike knows just how to keep him alive and, if not, I'm equally sure that Willow will find some spell. He will pay and pay dearly. I swear to you. I will not rest until I taste his blood. I will kill him for you." The words rang in the room.

"No," Xander started.

"Don't give me the whole you're the Slayer you can't kill humans bit. That, that thing," she spat the words out. "That thing isn't human. I would go find him and do it now but I want to make it last and last."

"No." Xander said again. "No, you won't kill him." An evil grin spread across his face. "I have a much better idea."

Part Fourteen

"Spike, for gods sake, will you just sit down?"

Xander let out a sigh as he watched Spike pace across the room for the 463rd time that evening. It had been six days since Xander had been attacked and he was finally beginning to feel somewhat better. Enough so that Spike's incessant pacing was driving him slowly insane. **Yeah, and imagine how he must feel**

Spike had refused to leave the room the entire time Xander had been there. Luckily, Dr. O'Rourke had arranged for Xander to be roomed in what obviously was some type of suite. There was a main room with Xander's bed, three chairs, a few small tables and a couch. A large bathroom was off to the side and then a separate bedroom with a regular bed, a few more chairs, a television and a large closet. Since Xander had woken that first day, Spike had remained at Xander's side, moving only to get a nurse or when one the doctors made him move so Xander could be examined. Spike slept in a chair next to Xander's bed, always holding his hand, or running his fingers through Xander's hair, or standing at the foot of the bed with an arm resting lightly on Xander's leg. Xander had finally gotten him to let go that morning by promising to let Spike wash his hair later that night. Spike had a thing for washing his hair and Xander had to admit that he liked it too. Now, Spike was pacing back and forth, watching Xander the entire time. It was as if Spike was terrified that Xander would disappear if Spike let go, if he took his eyes off Xander for even one moment.

Xander's eyes grew wide at the thought. He looked up, realising how gaunt Spike had become, how tired those eyes were, how Spike seemed even paler than usual. **His fault, he thinks it's his fault.** Xander felt his throat close as he realised the truth. This had to be dealt with, he couldn't stand Spike thinking he bore any fault for what had occurred.

"Spike, seriously, would you come over here, sit down, I want to talk to you about something."

"Of course, luv, are you all right, do you need something, isn't it almost time for your medication again, do you need something to drink?" Spike heard himself fussing but he couldn't stop. He had failed. He had promised to keep Xander safe and he had failed. This was all he could do now, try to make everything safe, try to keep Xander comfortable, distract him, try to make the pain go away.

Xander reached down and grabbed Spike's hands as they skimmed over his body, checking that everything was ok, that all the hated wires and tubes were secure.

"No, Spike, stop it. I want to talk to you about something." Xander grasped the hands tightly, waiting for Spike to meet his gaze.

"Yes, pet, what is it? Do you need something, I can have the Watcher or Red go for whatever it is. You must be bloody bored out of your mind, do you want some books, or some music," again the almost frantic litany of options, the listing of things that Spike would do. The desperation of it hit Xander, the fear clear in the worried tones.

"No. Spike, I want to ask you something. Do you think this is your fault? Do you think that you let me down somehow, that you could have done something to prevent this?" Xander kept his voice quiet, grasping Spike's hands in his, knowing that Spike would try to pull away.

Spike stared back for a moment, then his head dropped. Finally, Xander had asked, finally he had realised what he had done, finally he would make Spike leave, would lash out for the broken promises, for the protection which Spike could never give. His hands began to shake as he tried to pull away.

"Yes." Spike could barely force the word out, but the truth of it burnt the air. He continued to look down, not wanting to meet Xander's gaze, unwilling to see the betrayal that would reside there.

"Spike, Spike, look at me." Xander continued to hold on, knowing exactly what Spike was thinking, seeing the pain in the profile of Spike's face. "Spike, please. It's not your fault, there was nothing you could have done. I was the one who asked you to go out, I was the one who opened the door without seeing who was there first."

Xander swallowed hard at that. Since the night they first had their friends over, they had been getting regular visitors to their apartment. Spike had arranged for cameras both at the entrance to the elevator on the ground level and again at their front door. He had told Xander over and over to never let anyone in until he saw who it was first. Xander had just laughed, amused as always by the lengths to which Spike would go to protect him.

"I heard the elevator, thought it was you and just opened the door. If I had looked like you told me to, I would never have let him in, Spike, if it's anyone's fault, it's mine." Xander heard a sudden hiss as Spike's head shot up.

"Never say that. How can you think that, this is not your fault, none of it is your fault. That motherfucker came after you and you did nothing, do you hear me, nothing to make him." Spike's voice shook with rage and pain. "No, I won't stand for this. You always try to make everything somehow your fault, this isn't. It isn't, it's mine, I left you, I should have known, I promised he would never hurt you and he did, I'm sorry, please, forgive me, please don't make me leave." Spike's voice grew weaker as he visibly began to shake. "Please, I'll do anything, just don't leave me." His head dropped to the bed.

"Don't leave me, couldn't bear it, everything, don't. . ." His voice trailed off as Spike began to weep, the fear and pain of the last week pouring out of him.

Xander just ran his hand through Spike's soft hair. Now it was his turn to comfort, his turn to be strong, his turn to provide an anchor for the pain. It had worried him that Spike had tried to seem so strong, so resolute. It was one thing for him to be that way when the others were present, Xander understood that. Spike did not like to reveal how vulnerable he could truly be, still needed to appear to be the heartless bastard that the others knew and loathed. But, even when they were alone, even when Xander had woken screaming from the nightmares that plagued him, Spike had remained calm. Other than that first night, Spike had not shown any release for the anger and fear that Xander knew was still in Spike. Knew because it was still in him as well. Xander managed to tug on Spike enough to pull his head onto Xander's shoulder.

"Shh, it's over, it's all over. I'm going to be fine. I will never leave you. I can't leave you, I'm yours remember. Spike, open your eyes, look down, see, that's your mark there, I'm yours, always yours. It's not my fault either, there was nothing either of us could have done, shh, it's all right." Xander ran his hands along Spike's back, sending up a quick prayer of thanks that he could finally move, a little anyway. He had been allowed to sit up just in the last few days and slowly but surely the various machinery was being disconnected. "Shh, that's right, let it out, it's fine, I'm fine, love you, not mad at you, never mad at you, you did everything you could, nothing else you could have done, shh."

They stayed like that for a long time, Spike's sobbing letting off some then starting again as Spike thought of how close he had come to losing Xander. Finally, Spike managed to lift his head. He needed to see Xander's eyes, needed to know that the words were true. Xander still loved him, even though he had failed.

"Xander, I'm sorry. Please, forgive me."

Xander just crushed Spike into him, pulling as close as they could, Spike still careful to lean away from the wound that ran down the centre of Xander's chest.

"Nothing to forgive. I love you. Stop being such a bloody idiot, turning into your brooding Sire there." Xander whispered the words, a small smile crossing his lips. Spike loved it when Xander talked like him. And he knew the immediate reaction any mention of Angel would provoke.

"Don't compare me to that bloody pouf." The response came like clockwork, causing Xander's smile to widen. "I love you too, don't deserve you," again the waver in Spike's voice, but the usual amusement beginning to return as well. "Turning me into a girl here, whelp, leaking about all over the place.

Xander just grinned at that. "Yeah, nancy boy."

"Idiot"

"Wanker"

"Moron"

"Ponce"

"Prick"

Xander paused for a second, trying to remember any of Spike's other favourite insults when he felt cool lips press into his. He leaned into the kiss eagerly, needing this connection, feeling some semblance of normalcy return between them. He opened his mouth, sliding a tongue across Spike's lips. He felt Spike's mouth open to him and he eagerly plunged his tongue into that cool mouth, drawing Spike's tongue into his own. He moaned, needing this, wanting this, the taste driving him insane. His grip on Spike's back tightened, drawing him closer. Xander's hands began to wander down Spike's back, moving lower and lower. He felt Spike's hands tangle in his hair, knew that Spike longed to caress him as well. **Fucking hospitals** The thought crossed both their minds at the same time as the kiss changed. Not comforting. Not claiming. Not relearning each other's taste. No, it was needful, lustful, the desire burning into them both. Xander pulled back, gulping in air, then leaned back into that mouth, desire rising strong between them.

Spike suddenly yanked away, shaky breaths coming from him as well. He locked eyes with Xander, trying to calm them both.

"Bloody hell, want you." The words forced their way past his lips despite his effort to stop them.

"Tell me about it," came the wry reply as Xander tried to stop his hands from moving further down Spike's back, trying to stop them from pulling Spike's shirt out from the waist of his jeans, trying to stop them from running along that flat, flat stomach. His hands, however, appeared to have a mind of their own.

A gasp came from Spike and he closed his eyes, feeling the heat of Xander's touch burn him.

"Christ, Xan, what are you doing?" He tried to pull away, but Xander held him firm.

"Not too sure. Want you though, fuck, what's the use of having this great bed that moves for you if you can't use it," the words were muttered into Spike's lips as Xander leaned back up.

"Can't be good for your stitches," Spike managed to get out with the few seconds of control he had remaining.

"I know, been thinking about this though, had an idea." With that, Xander plunged his hand down the front of Spike's jeans, having managed to get the zipper down by distracting Spike by sucking on his neck. He needed this, had to have Spike in some way. He grasped the hard length and began to stroke, slowly and surely.

Spike's head fell back. **Fuck, taught him too bloody well by half** "Xander, what if someone comes in. . . Oh, that, again, oh hell."

Xander drank in the sight above him, watching the emotions play on that beautiful face. "Let them, my boyfriend, do what I want, my room, their fault for coming in."

Xander continued his long, sure strokes, feeling the tension building, knowing that Spike wouldn't be able to hold back for long. He quickened his pace, swiping his thumb over the soft skin of Spike's tip, just how Spike liked, exactly what he wanted, just what they both needed. He watched as Spike's face rippled, the ridges coming out, then felt the shudder go through his love, felt the cold liquid pour down his hands, heard the broken words.

"Xan, love, hell, always," Spike panted, unable to finish a thought, the pleasure crashing through him. He managed to stay standing only by propping one arm along the wall. He watched, hazy eyed, as Xander placed him back in his jeans then zipped him back up.

Slowly, deliberately, Xander lifted his hand to his lips, then wrapped his tongue around his finger, licking it clean. Spike felt his cock twitch again at the sight.

"Mmmm, much better than hospital food." He grinned as he looked up, Spike's eyes still hazy. "You better get cleaned up, don't want to be too obvious," he began.

Spike suddenly leaned down and captured Xander's mouth in his. This time they were calmer, gentler, Spike licking his taste out of Xander's mouth.

"Sure thing, pet, won't be the same without you. However, still have some unfinished business." Now it was Spike's hands that moved carefully down Xander's body, reaching over to grasp Xander's erection. Gently, he began to stroke up and down, a slow but strong rhythm, careful not to jar Xander too much.

Xander's eyes closed, lips parting and his tongue running along his lower lip. "Spike," a low moan. **So good, so good** "Spike, just, careful, you know."

A low chuckle. "Don't worry, pet, don't want the doctors yelling at me." Spike resumed the steady pace, drawing it out. Finally, Xander felt his orgasm coming, felt it crash into him, felt the strong hands holding his hips so that he wouldn't jar anything, felt a cool tongue lean down and lick him clean.

Spike moved back up, dropped a quick kiss on Xander's temple, seeing that Xander had already fallen into a light sleep. He slipped into the bathroom and Xander faintly heard the shower begin as he surfaced back to consciousness for a moment. He smiled then fell back to sleep.

---

"What do you mean, another week?" The words were yelped out in unison, the frustration apparent in both voices.

Dr. O'Rourke took a deep breath, knowing they wouldn't like the news. "Xander, you're healing very nicely, everything looks great, but, still, you went through a significant traumatic event, followed by a major surgery. We just want to make sure that everything is fine before we send you home. We don't want you coming back here, now, do we?" The voice was eminently reasonable, the logic impeccable.

A low rumble came from Spike. "Stupid git."

A small smile crossed the surgeon's face. Looked like the vampire had some sense, at least, and wasn't trying to convince him to let his patient out early. It was obvious that the two of them were slowly going insane stuck here in this room.

"Xander, you've only been allowed to get out of bed for what, three days now, you're still very weak. You are not up to any strenuous activity." A harsh glare at the both of them. He didn't want to think about what the two of them might be considering trying now that Xander had been allowed to walk. Two sets of completely innocent eyes looked back at him. **This isn't good**

"Doctor, I'm perfectly aware of my limitations." Xander managed to keep the grin off his face and out of his voice only with a huge effort. "Trust me, I'm not doing anything strenuous."

"Of course not, pet, you let me do all the work." Spike smirked over, and Xander couldn't help smirking back. That was true, Spike had been very gentle, very cautious, they hadn't done anything more than kiss and touch one another.

Dr. O'Rourke just sighed and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Just, try to keep it under control, gentlemen. Try not to shock the nurses." He regretted the words the second they left his mouth.

"Don't know about that, mate, I think they would rather appreciate the show. See enough with that camera, now, don't they?" Spike grinned up at him, thoroughly enjoying the blush that was stealing up the man's face. "What about it, luv, don't you think they appreciate it?"

"I know I would," came the amused reply.

The doctor just shook his head. "Look, one week. Then you can go home." With that he fled the room.

Xander and Spike grinned at each other, excitement building. One week, one week and they could go home. Spike's eyes narrowed at that a little, and he glanced over at the clock. 8:15 p.m.

"Pet, I've got somewhere I have to be."

Xander's eyes widened at that, Spike had pretty much refused to leave the room until the day before, when he had left for about an hour while Xander was receiving respiratory therapy. He still had problems taking deep breaths due to the depth of the stab wound.

"Oh, that's fine, when will you be back?" Xander tried to keep the worry out of his voice. Spike quickly leaned down and kissed him on the forehead.

"About an hour, maybe an hour and a half, not quite sure. Do you want me to call when I'm on my way back?" He traced a finger down Xander's cheek, calming his lover.

"Please, I'll feel better. Where are you going?" Xander cursed himself. **Acting like a child, probably going to kill something, make him feel better**

"It's a surprise," came the reply. Spike leaned down, kissed Xander's cheek then left.

One week later

Spike took one last look around the hated room, making sure they had everything. Buffy and Willow had already checked, moving the stacks of books and the other various and sundry items that had accumulated over the two weeks Xander had spent in the hospital. **Clothes, books, CDs, my lighter** The room was empty. He moved back to the door and took Xander's hand.

"Right, let's get the fuck out of here," Xander said, dying to leave. He felt much better, still weak, but better. The incision had healed well, but was still sore to touch. His stamina wasn't very good, but he had been given a clean bill of health. He wasn't allowed to return to classes yet and he and Spike had received a fairly incoherent lecture from Dr. O'Rourke, the gist of which seemed to be that resuming sex was fine just not to overdue it. Which was very, very bad news because all Xander could think about was getting Spike into bed. Not just for sex, he craved to feel Spike's arms around him as he slept.

"Right." Spike tossed one last look back over his shoulder, then they walked out, joining the rest of the gang waiting to see Xander off. They moved down the hall, Willow taking his other hand. They reached the elevator and Xander ceremoniously pushed the button for the ground floor. They walked out into the night and Xander grinned when he saw his Jeep sitting parked right in front of the building.

"So, I get to drive," he started happily for the door, but was gently pulled back.

"Not exactly, pet." Spike settled him into the passenger's side, buckling him up as everyone else piled into the back.

Spike carefully pulled away and Xander suppressed a grin. Usually, driving with Spike was an adventure, but now he was cautiously signalling and turning left. Left.

"Um, Spike, where are we going, the apartment's the other way."

"Is it?" Spike continued driving, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Spike, what are you up to?" Xander knew what that smile meant and it usually meant no good.

Spike just shrugged, as he made a turn off to the right. Xander quickly became lost as they took a few more turns in rapid succession. Xander realised they were now in one of the nicer neighbourhoods of Sunnydale.

"Spike," very quietly, very calmly. "Where the hell are you going?"

Spike just grinned as he pulled to a stop in front of a gated driveway.

"Home." With that, he leaned out the window and punched the security code into the box next to the gate. The gate swung open and Spike pulled in, pausing to make sure the gate latched behind them.

Xander shot another glance over as they curved around some tall trees. Then, he saw the house. A long, low Spanish style ranch house greeted his gaze, lush plant-life running along the driveway which curved to a circle in front of the house, a small fountain in the centre. The landscaping continued along the front of the house, small spotlights shining up. Spike gently pulled the car to a stop in front of the door and looked over, beaming.

"Surprise."

Stunned silence filled the Jeep. Xander just stared.

"When, why, Christ, Spike," he finally started, having no idea what to say.

Spike just laughed, got out of the car and walked around the front, pulling Xander's door open. He helped Xander out, then slung an arm across his shoulders.

"No fucking way you were ever going back to that place," Spike whispered quietly in Xander's ear. "Thought you might like a change of scenery, pet. Saw this place awhile ago, thought you might like it." That part said loudly, for the sake of their friends who were spilling out from the back.

That was true, he had an eye on this house since he first came across it during one of his late night prowls a few months before. It had been empty and some demons had been living there. After Spike killed them, he had wandered through the house, admiring the spaciousness and proportions of the rooms. He had known, as soon as he had been assured that Xander would be fine, that they would not be returning to the apartment. He couldn't bear the thought of it and he would never allow Xander to be reminded of what had happened. He made some calls, arranged for the purchase, for the furnishings, to have them moved, again amused by how the promise of cash could ease anything.

The rest of the group stood there, open-mouthed.

"Spike, goddess, this is beautiful, is this really yours?" Willow said, looking at the house.

"Sure is, Red, why, you like?" Spike grinned down at her, seeing the confusion in all their faces.

"Seriously, Spike, how did you do this?" Buffy's slightly awed voice next to him. "Where did you get the money, you did buy this, right?" Buffy's eyes narrowed at that. "Thought you were broke."

Xander began to laugh at that, then Spike joined in until they were leaning against the Jeep, nearly falling into each other.

"Not exactly, Buff. Blondie here is a bit of a liar. You should see the portfolio on him. And I don't mean that in a sexual way." Xander managed to gasp out, grabbing his side. "Ow, don't make me laugh like that."

Giles shot them a look. He had had his suspicions about that. "Well, it is lovely." He turned, noticing for the first time that a low wall surrounded the property with what appeared to be newly installed electrical wires at the top.

"C'mon, luv, don't you want to see inside." Spike grinned, pleased with himself. If the Jeep had been a good idea, then this, this was a fabulous idea. They moved up the steps and Spike handed Xander the keys with a bow.

"After you."

Xander felt like his face was going to split in two from the grin he knew was plastered there. He opened the door, eyes widening when he saw chandelier hanging down, saw that the house was fully furnished. Turning back, he pulled Spike in after him, noticing that Spike entered with no hesitation. **Of course not, idiot, his house, our house, already been invited**

"Come on in," he called to the others, Spike shooting him an amused glance. They came in, jaws again dropping at the sight of the house. They had entered into a large open entrance hall with a peaked cathedral ceiling. Hanging down was a chandelier, its arms spreading out, appearing to hold candles on the ends. The floor was tiled in a colourful red and yellow sunburst pattern. Low benches ran along one wall with doorways heading in all directions. They could see that there was another set of doors on the other side, leading into the back yard.

Anya wandered off to the right, shaking her head. She always knew Spike had taste, he was with Xander after all, but this was so unexpected. Everyone followed her as she stepped down a step into a large living room. Again, it was fully furnished, a soft ivory couch running in a curve along one wall, a low glass table in front of it, plants everywhere, endtables with small lamps casting a warm glow, the television against the wall in front of them. She noticed absently that heavy curtains were on the windows, then resumed her study of the room. Three smaller leather chairs in the same ivory faced the couch. A bar ran along the far wall with a pool table in front of it. A small bathroom was set in a corner next to the bar. Willow let out a low exclamation of delight.

Buffy walked through the next doorway, coming into the large dining room. A long table ran the length of the room, the dark wood in contrast to the lightness of the walls. Three lights hung from the ceiling, illuminating the small flower arrangements set on the table. Continuing forward, she entered the kitchen. She flipped on the light and stepped back, startled. It looked like something from a magazine. The kitchen was bright and cheery, the same red and yellow tile scheme continuing through here. A central island with stools was in the centre, with a huge, professional looking stove behind it. A large, three-basin sink was off to one side of the stove, while a coffee maker sat on the counter on the other side. Off to the right was a breakfast area, with a bay window, again with heavy curtains, a bench seat running under the window with a table in front of it. The refrigerator was off to the right, blending into the cabinets. A rack hung over the island, with pots and pans hanging down. It looked like Emeril was going to come out and start cooking any minute.

"Xander, Spike, wow, this is, wow, too bad you don't cook."

"Actually, Slayer, I'm quite the cook," came the amused response behind her as Spike pulled a speechless Xander in behind him. Buffy just shot him a look. "Well, I am. I would tell you to ask the whelp here, but, well, cat's got his tongue."

Spike couldn't help it. He was thrilled. He had finally gotten a chance to find a place appropriate for Xander and it appeared that his friends were suitably impressed. **About time they realised how he should be treated** He gently tugged Xander around. "Want to see the bedrooms?" He leered suggestively, earning him a whap.

"Yes, but later for the rest," Xander said, finally breaking out of his stupor. He could not believe the house, could not believe it was his. Could not believe Spike had found the time to do this.

"Spike, when did you do all this," he asked as Spike herded everyone back to the other end of the house.

"You were asleep a lot and, well, that's why they invented the telephone. Can do anything by phone nowadays." **Especially when you know the right people** Spike had ended up calling in a few favours, but it was worth it. The hardest part had been trusting that it would be decorated properly, but he was relieved to see that Cordelia had been right in her recommendation. Passing through the entranceway, they entered a long hallway. Two bedrooms were to the left, a large bathroom connecting the two. Another bedroom with an attached bath was on their right. Then a study, bookshelves lining the wall, a desk facing the windows into the backyard, the computer glowing softly. Next, a larger room, set up as a training area, various pieces of exercise equipment grouped around a large mat with a heavy bag in the corner. Finally, Spike stopped as they reached the end of the hall.

"Right, our rooms, no need for you to see that." Ignoring the protests he cocked his head. "Wouldn't you rather go out back and see the pool? Oh, and did I fail to mention that there's a hot tub." He watched as they took off back down the hall, Xander following. Spike started to follow when he felt a hand fall on his shoulder. He looked up to see Giles staring at him.

"Spike, this, this is very, well, quite much," Giles began. "I couldn't help but notice that there is a wall around the property. And that it seems to be topped by an electric fence."

Spike just shot a glance over. "Wouldn't bloody let me put in the moat now, would they?" Giles just looked back, knowing that Spike wasn't entirely joking. "Nothing will get in here, Watcher. Not while I'm still here." The words hung in the air.

Nodding, Giles followed Spike back down the hall. "I was sure of that." They heard a squeal, then a splash. Sighing, Giles shook his head. "Shall we see what the children are up to?"

Walking out the back entrance, they found that Anya had already pushed Willow into the pool with Tara not far behind. Buffy had gone to help them both out, only to find herself tugged in. A huge water fight had ensued and Xander was just standing there, grinning madly. Spike walked behind him, wrapping his arms around his lover's waist.

"So, do you like?" Spike quietly asked, a little concerned.

His only response was a soft kiss on the cheek. They stood, watching as the splashing continued.

---

They were finally alone. Spike and Xander had taken them back to the hospital to pick up Giles' car. Then, they had returned to the house, Xander paying closer attention to where they were going. They pulled back in and Xander found his heart in his throat once again as they pulled in front of the house. He owned a house. He OWNED a HOUSE. He had never even considered the possibility. They sat there for a moment, lost in their thoughts. Finally, Xander leaned over, resting his head on Spike's shoulder.

"Must love me or something."

"Something like that."

"This is, I love it, it's perfect. I can't believe you did this." Xander leaned back up, got out of the car and carefully stretched. They walked back in and, as soon as the door was shut, Xander pinned Spike to the wall.

"Really love, can't wait to see our rooms, particularly bed," he rumbled into Spike's ear as he began to kiss down Spike's neck, moving directly for the spot halfway down that he knew drove Spike insane.

"Figured you would," Spike managed to push them off the wall, then down the hall, walking backwards so that he could watch Xander's face, could lean up for quick kisses. They reached the doors at the end of the hall.

"Close your eyes," whispered Spike. Xander quickly complied, excitement of all sorts racing through him. Spike pushed the doors opened, then led Xander in.

"Open your eyes, Xander," Spike gently commanded.

Xander opened his eyes, looking around in awe. Their bed was along the back wall of a large room, lit by soft light coming from the lamps in each corner. Another couch was under windows on the far side, a television next to it, visible from the bed. Dark chests stood along the other walls, with candles on top of the one nearest the bed. Off to the right was a huge walk in closet. Off to the left was the bathroom and Xander could just make out a separate shower and bathtub. His attention, however, was directed almost entirely on the bed.

"This is great, explore it later. Bed now." Xander pushed Spike across the room, focused only on the almost painful longing to be a part of him. It wasn't just how long it had been, it was the need to be together, to feel a part of each other, to reassure each other that they were still one.

Spike groaned as Xander pushed him down, relishing this. It had been all he could do not to just throw everyone out, but he wanted to prove to everyone that he was capable of taking care of Xander, that his love was safe with him.

Xander slowly leaned into Spike, covering that cool body with his own, careful to rest on his forearms which were on either side of Spike's head, still not able to tolerate much pressure on his chest. They kissed long and slow, building the passion gently, carefully. Neither wanted this to be over quickly, they wanted to take their time, to enjoy the luxury of truly being alone.

Spike reached up, running his hands over Xander's back, the familiar body now thinner, a little more frail. He leaned up and gently turned them on their sides, knowing that Xander's arms would quickly tire. He moved his mouth down, trailing along Xander's jawline, down his neck, lingering on the scar from his mark, licking his tongue around the twin wounds. Xander moaned and thrust his hips into Spike's, their groins coming into contact, their erections straining against each other.

Xander reached his hands under Spike's shirt, running a flat palm on Spike's nipple, feeling it immediately harden. He moved his hand down, his other entwined in Spike's hair, tracing each ripple of Spike's perfect abdomen. He heard the familiar moan, the automatic tilt of Spike's hips, relearning the flesh, remembering just where to touch to see Spike's head tilt, exposing his throat. Xander bent down and began to suck at the hollow of Spike's throat, feeling Spike's thrusts quicken, a low growl begin to move through the vampire. Xander leaned back and pulled Spike's shirt off just as Spike did the same to his own.

Spike pushed Xander flat onto the bed, seeing the clean edge of the incision next to the rougher one from the stab wound. A quick flash of pain glimmered across his features, then Spike bent down and began to slowly lick his way up each wound, taking care not to hurt, but needing to taste, to become part of the pain.

Xander's eyes closed at the trace of Spike's tongue. The coolness of it eased the pain, the itching that had started as the scars began to form. The feel of it was driving him mad, the way that Spike was worshipping his body, cleansing the wounds, trying to lap them away. Xander felt himself growing harder and harder, until he was nearly in pain from the tightness against his zipper. He pulled Spike up, kissing him deeply, as he reached down to unbutton Spike's jeans. Spike took the hint and quickly returned the favour, easing the pressure.

Soon, they were naked, flesh pressing into flesh. They lay there, entwined in one another, lengths pressed together as they cherished just this, just the feel of being in one another's arms. Soon, too soon, the heat overwhelmed them, and they began to rock together, each touch pushing them further towards completion, tongues circling one another.

Spike pulled back and reached out for his duster. He pulled the small tube out and pressed it into Xander's hand. Xander took it, then leaned back, looking at Spike. Spike just nodded, then rolled onto his back, pulling his legs to his chest.

Xander opened the tube with shaky hands. Usually, Spike was the one to penetrate him. He was still a little insecure about fucking Spike, not positive he was doing it right, not sure if he was bringing pleasure to the man beneath him, even with Spike's assurances to the contrary. But something in Spike's eyes told him he needed this, needed Xander to fill him, needed to know that they were one, needed that connection. Xander carefully reached down, then pressed a finger forward. There was some resistance but not much. Xander watched Spike's face the entire time, seeing Spike's eyes begin to haze over, feeling Spike begin to move in time with the rhythm. He searched, found the spot, and was rewarded by the sight of Spike grasping the sheets, knuckles turning white from the pressure.

"There, again, just like that, Xander, Xander," the words came flowing down from above. Xander pulled out, inserted another finger and began to move just like Spike had told him, just like Spike did to him. Quickly, Spike began to relax beneath him, began to open fully and completely. A third finger entered as Spike began to thrash on the bed, pushing down as Xander's hand pushed up. Finally, Spike began to beg.

"Xander, in me, please, part of me, need it, need you, love you, please, please, love you."

With that, Xander placed the tip of his cock against Spike's opening and entered him, the tightness and the coolness grasping him. Now it was Xander's head that snapped back, Xander's voice that broke as he began to move in time with Spike's rhythm.

"Spike, love you, never leave, love you, part of you, feel me, in you, love you," the words like music to Spike's ears. He was impaled, truly impaled. The heat of it burned into every pore of his body, bathing him in its pureness. It was like nothing he had ever known, the feel of it driving through his very being. He craved it, wanting more and more. Spike began to move faster, drawing Xander in deeper and deeper. He cared nothing for his own release, he just wanted this, wanted to feel Xander come deep inside him, wanted to know that Xander was a part of him. Then he felt a warm hand grasp him, felt the pull as Xander pumped in time with their thrusts.

"Together, please together, see you, want to see you," Xander's voice panting above him. Spike managed to open his eyes. He saw Xander's face, contorted in pleasure, the thick dark hair sweaty and falling around his face, the golden skin glowing above him. Spike felt himself begin to slip over the edge, the vision of it combined with the feel of Xander filling him proving too much.

"Can't wait, now, Xan, love you, Xander," with a furious cry, Spike came, bucking into Xander's hand, his muscles clutching the prick buried deep inside him.

With a strangled cry, Xander came, the expression on Spike's face pulling out his own release. He felt strong hands holding his hips, holding him inside that coolness. He felt himself begin to collapse, only to be caught and gently cradled into Spike's chest.

"I love you," he managed to gasp out.

Spike just kissed the top of his head, holding him as tightly as possible. Finally, Xander pulled up, sliding out of Spike, causing a small whimper of protest from his lover. Xander settled into the crook of Spike's arm, content to his very core.

They lay quietly, both fading off to sleep. Automatically, Xander turned on his side and Spike curled into his back. Xander just hummed, an echoing purr coming from Spike. This, this was what had been missing during those long days in that damn hospital bed.

"Spike,"

"Hmmm," came the sleepy reply.

"Thanks for the house."

"Glad you like."

"Only one thing."

"What's that, luv?"

"We're going to have to have a discussion about exactly what I meant by small gifts." The grin was apparent in Xander's voice.

Spike just let out a quiet chuckle, "You should've seen the place I really wanted."

Xander just laughed in return and snuggled in tighter. They quickly drifted off, at peace for the first time in days.

Part Fifteen

They moved like a dark wind through the trees, their white heads turning in tandem, their pale faces shining with rage. Gone were the quips and laughter. Only pain remained, only a vicious need to destroy. They were silent, deadly, the only sounds the occasional grunt or howl when they were knocked into something. No toying, no playing, just focused hatred. Occasionally, one of them would snap and whatever vampire or demon was unfortunate enough could hear the murmured words as pain wracked through its body right before its death. "Bastard, fucking coward, motherfucker will pay, bathe in his blood." Muttered over and over as dead eyes stared into the victim.

News quickly spread that Sunnydale was no longer safe. Not that it had ever been before, but now the Slayer and the Vampire seemed possessed, were working as a team, had become the predators and not the prey. Only the foolish would cross their paths now. And only those with a death wish would make any move towards the dark haired man that accompanied them, that they kept protected at all costs. Even one step in his direction would ensure that all attention would be directed towards the offender. In that case, it was best to pray that the Slayer noticed, for she would simply and efficiently kill whatever had been so unwise.

But if the being was unlucky, then the Vampire would see. Death would be slow in coming. The railroad spike would appear in his hand, pulled from one of those deep, deep pockets in the black leather duster he always wore. He would set to work, causing such pain as had never been dreamed of in all the depths of hell. He would keep at it for hours, his eyes pools of rage and pain, cutting his fury into the flesh of the offender. Then, when he was satisfied that the being could not move, could not harm his consort in any way, he would hand the stake to his lover, watching as the man set to work, a look of pride crossing his face as his lover moved to take over, as he gave quiet instruction, as he heard the howls of rage drop from the man's lips until finally, finally the merciful release of death. Word spread fast. Don't harm the man. He was off-limits, he was the Vampire's and the Slayer's. And his own bloodlust was the equal of both.

---

"No, no, please, no NO NO NO" The screaming began as Xander jerked awake, jumping from the bed, eyes glassy as he felt the hands moving on his body, felt the kicks into his flesh, felt the tearing begin. He backed into the wall, slowly sliding down as his eyes lost focus.

Spike knelt next to him, hands ghosting across Xander's body, careful not to actually touch him, merely seeking to let Xander feel his presence. His heart twisted as he watched Xander's head jerk back as if being slapped, heard the begging spill from Xander's lips, saw the absence in his eyes.

Xander slowly curled into a ball on the floor, shaking as he felt the penetration begin, heard his father's voice echoing in his ears. **You disgrace, should have killed you a long time ago** The words pounding into his mind as he saw the hand rise, saw the gleaming edge of the knife, felt the vicious pain as it slammed into his flesh. He rocked back and forth, trying to calm himself, hearing Spike's voice in his ear.

"Just a dream, just a dream, I'm here, you're safe, it's fine, here, we're home, he's not here, just a dream," the words dropped into his mind, cooling the heat there, rippling through the ocean of hate. "I'm here, don't worry, safe now, safe now."

Slowly, slowly the panting stopped and Xander felt cautious hands reach out to pull him into Spike's lap, his head resting there while strong hands ran down his back, trying to loosen the tight muscles. Xander shuddered once, an automatic reaction to the feel of flesh touching his own. Spike stopped, leaving his hand there but not moving. Swallowing hard, Xander reached an arm around, draping it across Spike's legs, forcing himself back to the present, realising that the touch was his lover's, that he was here with someone who would never, ever hurt him, would never allow him to feel pain again.

Spike resumed his stroking, beginning a low, comforting purr, trying to lull Xander back to sleep. The nightmares were getting worse and worse, and he was becoming increasingly frightened by Xander's inability to sleep. The worst part was that Xander refused to tell him what the nightmares were, refused to speak of them. Spike didn't know if that was good or not. All his studies were contradictory. Some texts recommended forcing the issue while others stated flatly that only harm could come of premature revelations. Spike had decided to strike a middle note, asking each time what the nightmare contained, letting Xander know he could say anything, but not forcing him to do so.

"Sounded bad, luv. What was it?" Spike's voice was low and calm, the stroking never stopping.

Xander swallowed again, then slowly turned over, moving so that he was lying face up in Spike's lap, able to see those beautiful eyes.

"Just, stuff," he shuddered, not willing to discuss how he could still feel his father's hands.

"Sure, pet, you can tell me, you know. I want to know." Again, quiet and calm, no trace of the rage that Spike felt growing in him at the fact that the bastard was still alive.

"Yeah, I know. Don't want to talk about it." Xander slowly pushed himself up to a seated position. Spike stood, reached down and helped Xander to his feet.

"How about some hot chocolate, then? Got marshmallows and everything." Spike ran his hands along Xander's arms, still feeling the faint trembling there.

Xander gave Spike a small smile, knowing full well that this was Spike's ultimate comfort food, the taste of it somehow making Spike content. They headed down the hall to the kitchen, Xander yawning hugely. He was so tired. Over the last three months, his sleep had become more and more fragmented. It seemed the healthier his body became, the more his mind attacked him. He had almost completely recovered, spending his time training with Buffy and Spike. He had quickly gained strength and agility, focusing on learning how to protect himself. He had finally convinced Spike to return to patrol after about a month, knowing that Spike desperately needed the relief of violence. Spike had initially resisted, flatly refusing to leave Xander alone. Xander had pleaded over the space of a week, finally reaching a compromise. Spike would patrol with Xander accompanying him. However, Xander was not allowed to fight and Spike stayed within five feet of him at all times. Xander had readily agreed, and, slowly, Spike had given Xander freer rein, gradually allowing him to fight the smaller fledglings. He still refused to allow Xander out of his sight, however. Not that Xander minded. He didn't feel secure unless they were in each other's presence either.

Spike and Buffy still were furious, still tried to talk him out of his plan for revenge. They wanted immediate gratification, Spike, in particular, growing more and more frustrated with each day that passed that Xander held him back from simply ripping out his father's throat, no matter what the chip did to him. Buffy was barely better, vowing that she would take his father, bring him back to Spike and Xander's house, act as Spike's hands as Spike told her exactly what to do. The only thing holding either of them back was Xander's promise that soon, soon, they would act. No matter how frustrated either of them became, they both understood that it was Xander's right to take revenge.

Xander had focused all his attention on training and learning the various arts of torture that Spike was only too happy to teach him. Their morning discussions were no longer theoretical. Now, Xander took an active part in discussing just how his father would suffer. His mother had managed to bail his father out of jail, how, Xander didn't care. The trial was about four months away, and Xander had begun steeling himself for the testimony he would have to give. Giles, Willow and Tara were working on finding some better way to protect Spike from the sun so that he could accompany Xander to court without having to sneak in under a blanket through a side entrance.

They made their way into the kitchen, Spike continuing to purr softly, seeing that Xander was beginning to relax. He wished Xander would take the sleeping pills he had been prescribed. Xander flatly refused, however, stating that he didn't like the loss of control. Spike knew that Xander needed control above all else, so he had relented.

Spike turned to the refrigerator and reached for the milk while Xander opened the cupboard and removed a small pan. As he turned to place it on the stove, he caught the side of his arm on the corner of the open door, scraping it along the rough edge of the open door. His eyes shot open as the old, familiar sting ripped through his body. **OH SHIT, so good, so good, more, want more** He raised the arm to his mouth, twisting it so that he could lap up the blood. His hands began to shake as the taste ran through his body. He felt the desperate longing suddenly rise to the surface, no longer able to deny want he craved. The desire had been burning in him ever since he regained consciousness in the hospital and every day it was becoming harder and harder to resist that siren call. He stared at the knives on the counter, moving closer and reaching out, blocking out everything but that need.

Spike's head shot around at the sudden scent of blood. **What the hell** He saw Xander with an arm to his mouth, saw his eyes suddenly darken, saw the hands reaching for the knives. With a strangled cry, he wrapped his arms around Xander, yanking him away. This was what he had feared, what he had been waiting and watching for. Too much had happened for Xander not to fall back to this.

"Let go." Xander growled out, unable to focus on anything other than the need.

"No, Xander, please, no, don't. . ." Spike began, as Xander suddenly began to pull against him. Tightening his grip, he fought back the pain that hit as he frantically tried to restrain Xander.

"Fuck you, what do you know, let me go, bastard, fuck you, can't help me, don't understand," the vicious words poured out as Xander fought those strong arms. Turning quickly, he threw Spike across the room.

Panting, he yanked the knife from the block and placed it against his wrist, feeling the cold, cold glint of steel. He closed his eyes and licked his lips, savouring this moment, knowing that peace was nigh.

Suddenly, he realised that the room was quiet, that he could hear no sound from the vampire. He looked down and went perfectly still. Spike lay on the floor, head at a peculiar angle, blood dripping from his mouth. The knife clattered to the floor as Xander's ran over, kneeling at Spike's side.

"Spike, Spike," Xander desperately called out. "Oh shit, Spike," he began to shake Spike, frantically trying to get any response. Nothing. Xander glanced around, realising that Spike's head had struck the edge of the counter.

"Spike, please, I'm sorry, oh fuck, please," Xander keened, his hands roaming over Spike's body. **His neck, I broke his neck**

Spike suddenly let out a groan. "Bloody hell, why did I ever teach you that?" He opened his eyes to see Xander just staring down.

"Spike, can you move, please tell me you can move, can you feel this?" The relief at hearing Spike's voice was fleeting as Xander began to press at Spike's arms and legs.

"Ow, shit, Xander, what are you doing?" Spike yelped out, feeling the pinching all over his body. He pulled himself up, Xander closely following, then leaned against the counter, rubbing the side of his head. "Think you got your strength back there, luv."

Spike shook his head, clearing his thoughts, then suddenly struck out, grabbing Xander's wrists. He flipped Xander's arms over, inspecting the flesh. Nothing, no lines. His eyes narrowed and he stepped closer, inhaling deeply, scenting for the blood. Only the ragged edge from the accidental cut yielded any trace.

Xander stood still, allowing the inspection, head down, shame washing over him. He deserved this, he had broken Spike's trust. He kept his head down, unwilling to meet Spike's gaze.

Spike let out a shaky breath, then pulled Xander over to sit under the window. He had been expecting this, knew it was coming, didn't blame Xander, though he knew Xander would blame himself. He sat down, then settled Xander onto his lap, gently pushing the table aside.

"Luv, I'm fine." No response. He pulled Xander tighter. "Xander, I don't blame you. You've been through a lot, it's only natural that you would need that." He tightened his grip as he felt Xander begin to shake. "Just because I understand doesn't mean that I'm going to stand by and let you, but I won't get mad at you for wanting it." He heard the sudden inhale of breath then felt Xander begin to relax, just a little. He started purring again, knowing this would calm the man in his arms.

Xander stayed there for a few moments, then pulled back, reaching up to feel the rapidly healing bump on Spike's head. "Sorry, just, hit me, you know." He tilted his head, the realisation suddenly striking him. He pulled back, looking deep into Spike's eyes.

"Is this what you feel like, wanting to go after that bastard?" They had long since quit referring to that beast as his father.

Spike stared back, nodding slowly. That was why he couldn't be angry with Xander, this was why he understood the bloodlust. It was all he could do to respect Xander's wishes, all he could do to not just destroy that which had harmed what was his.

Xander's eyes darkened. How could he have not realised the pain he was causing his lover, his friends. Enough, it was enough.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise." He licked his lips, leaned down and placed a light kiss on Spike's lips. "No more. It's time. I'll call Buffy. Tomorrow night."

Spike just stared back. "Are you sure?" He felt a cruel smile cross his lips. **About bloody time**

"Fuck, yeah." A matching smile on his mate's mouth. They stared at each other, then Spike released Xander, allowing him to stand. He reached over, grabbing the phone from the table.

"Here you go, luv, you call, I'll make the hot chocolate. Want to get to sleep soon," his eyes narrowed, "It'll be a busy night tomorrow."

Xander nodded, hitting the speed dial. He looked at the clock. Just after midnight, Buffy should be home.

"Hello," the quick reply.

"Buffy, it's time."

"When." He heard the rage immediately slam into her voice.

"Tomorrow. Meet me here at noon so we can get set up."

"Fine. About time." Spike nodded, hearing her from over by the stove.

"Yeah, that's what Spike thinks, too. See you at noon. Spike will get the stuff together while we're gone."

"'K."

With that he hung up and moved to sit by lover at the counter, the knife long forgotten as he thought of just how sweet the next night would be. Spike slid over a cup, marshmallows floating on top. They drank quickly, then headed off for bed. Spike was right, they would both need their rest. None of them would be sleeping for the next few days.

---

Willow shot another worried look down the street as Xander fit the key into the lock.

"Are you sure they aren't home?" she asked for the fifth time since they had arrived. She was eager to get started, but, at the same time, a little concerned. What would happen if they were interrupted.

"Yeah, the car's gone, besides, even if they were here, they're too drunk to notice." Xander quickly opened the door, smiling bitterly at the fact that they hadn't even bothered to change the locks. He shrugged, if they were so stupid, they deserved whatever they got.

Buffy and Anya followed Xander, Willow and Tara into the basement, carrying a large trunk between them. Xander looked around, face tightening as the memories struck him. He took a deep breath, concentrating only on the good. **There, right there is where Spike first drank from me** Pretty much every thing was the way he and Spike had left it, the couch still there, a thick layer of dust over everything.

"Where do you want this," Anya called over. "It's getting kind of heavy." Buffy just rolled her eyes at that.

"Just put it down anywhere, doesn't really matter." Xander moved over, opened the trunk and began pulling out the heavy black drapery. Meanwhile, Willow began setting small bowls around the room while Tara took out a small mortar and pestle and began grinding herbs. Buffy and Anya quickly tacked the hangings over the windows, while Xander pulled the table into the centre of the room. He pulled the bolt of black silk out, draped it on the table, habitually spreading a circle into the centre of the fabric, the movements of the ritual coming automatically. He took out the candleholders, set the candles in place, then stepped back. Nodding, he looked around the room, satisfied that all was ready. He watched as Buffy pulled the couch and chair back, replacing the recliner with a tall, high backed chair. She coiled the rope by the legs of the chair, then she, too, stepped back, satisfied. They looked over at Willow and Tara.

"We can begin now, just take a few minutes," Willow said as Tara began sprinkling the mixture into the various bowls. "Why don't you just wait outside."

Anya led the way out the door and they stood there, listening to the soft chanting. A few minutes passed, then Willow and Tara came out the door.

"All finished, no one will be able to hear a thing, he can scream all he wants." Xander had never seen Willow like this, had never seen such a look of hatred curling across her features. He grabbed her in a quick hug, then they left, Anya going with Willow and Tara, Buffy accompanying him.

"What time are we leaving," her hands were twitching, anticipating the blood that was soon to flow.

"The second the sun goes down, you would not believe what I had to do to convince Spike that he couldn't just wait in the back until the bastard comes home." Xander glanced over, feeling the anticipation build.

"I can imagine, no, wait, actually, I don't want to imagine," Buffy said with a small grin. She began to bounce up and down, the tension building. "Do you think Spike will let me help him pack up the stuff?" she asked hopefully.

"Doubt it, probably already done, he was up when I left." Xander smiled at the thought. Spike had followed him to the door, reluctant to let him leave, they had only been apart for a few hours at a time since the attack. However, Xander had planned ahead and had accounted for the half-hour or so that it would take them to say goodbye.

"Ohh, she said disappointed. "Well, well, what are we going to do until we leave?" **Seven hours, only seven hours more**

"Spike's making lunch."

Buffy just raised her eyebrows at that. "What's he making, blood pudding?"

"No, lasagna."

Buffy just shook her head at that. Spike, making lasagna for a Slayer. Her life just got odder by the day.

---

The pounding continued. "I said, just a minute. Fucking idiot." Xander's father bellowed out as he stumbled to the door. "What do you want?" he growled looking down at the small girl he vaguely recognised as one of his bastard son's friends.

His only response was a sharp kick which caught him along the right side of his face, knocking him back into the hallway. Buffy strode in after him with Xander right behind.

"Spike, why don't you come in?" Xander held out his hand as he extended the invitation.

"Happy to, luv."

"What's going on out here?" Xander's mother called as she came around the corner, eyes opening wide when she saw her husband lying motionless on the floor, some woman staring down at him with hate, a white haired man next to her with ever more hate on his face. She looked up to see her son standing in the doorway.

"Hello, mom." The words snapped out with contempt. "Came to pay dear old dad here a visit."

Xander skulked over, grabbing her as she turned to run. "Oh, I don't think so. Think you're going to call the police? You would call the police for him, not for me. Just lovely. No, I don't think so. Besides, I have the feeling that they wouldn't be too quick to come to that thing's rescue." He pulled her over into a chair, Spike right behind him.

"Stupid bint, letting him do to that to your child, well, time to pay the piper, ducks." The voice hissed in her ear as she felt cold, cold fingers press against her throat. "Much as I want to kill you, your precious child there won't let me, so you're just going to have to sleep for awhile." With that, he stepped back, letting Buffy have her turn.

"You bitch." With that, Buffy swung, knocking Xander's mother out cold. They quickly tied her to the chair, then Buffy pressed the cloth over her face.

"Sure that will be enough," Spike asked quietly.

"Yes, Giles said that would knock her out for at least three days."

"Good," Xander's voice rang through the air. "Let's get the bastard downstairs."

"Same way as last time, pet?" Spike walked over, ready to help, eager to feel that flesh beneath his hands. The pain was bearable, there, but bearable.

"You bet." With that, Xander grabbed his father's feet and began dragging him down the basement stairs, once again making sure that he rammed his father's head into any and every thing he could find.

Spike followed, ready to help should Xander show any signs of being tired. Buffy grabbed the small duffel bag Spike had dropped to the floor, closed the front door and followed them down the stairs.

---

Xander's father's eyes slowly opened, taking in the odd vision before him. He was tied to a chair, in some room. A low murmur reached his ears, some stupid song. The room was shrouded in black, a table in front of him covered in black silk, two candles on it, a lockbox in the centre. He shook his head, confused. He looked up, only to find himself staring into three cruel, cruel faces.

"Oh, look, he's finally awake." The girl's voice, mocking and cold.

"Finally, thought we were going to have to do something drastic," the words in a British drawl, even crueller if possible.

"No, that's for later." His bastard son's voice.

"What the fuck is this, what the hell do you think you're doing, you fucking faggot."

He heard a sharp intake of breath, then his head snapped back as the blonde viciously slapped him.

"You don't get to speak. Not to Xander, not now, not ever again. You asshole, if I didn't plan on hearing you scream I would just cut your tongue out right now." Buffy stood there, fists clenched visibly trying to keep from lashing out.

Xander reached over, pulling her away. "Maybe later."

Xander leaned down, staring his father in the eye. "Did you really think you would get away with it, did you really think that I wouldn't get my revenge? You must be stupider than I ever thought. You know, you were right, one of us is a disgrace, one of us should have been killed a long time ago. Just not me." He leaned back up, reaching out to take Spike's hand.

"I don't think you were ever properly introduced. This is William, my lover. My partner. My mate. He's also known as Spike. Do you know how he got the name Spike?" Xander paused, wrapping his arms around Spike's waist, leaning his head on Spike's shoulder.

Xander's father just glared back, disgust in his eyes. He opened his mouth, but never got to speak. Buffy reached out, hand moving quicker than he could see, grasping his tongue.

"I thought I told you not to speak." Her voice was low and calm, but her fingers never let go. The bastard's eyes began to water as the pain rolled through him. She tugged a little harder. "Please, Xan, it'll be fun."

"No, later, I said I wanted to hear him scream."

Reluctantly, Buffy let go, running an edge of her fingernail across the top of his tongue, the blood beginning to drip down. "Hope you learned your lesson," she whispered in his ear as she moved away.

"As I was saying," Xander resumed, running a hand through Spike's hair, "Do you know how Spike got his name? No, didn't think so. You see, Spike is infamous for torturing people with railroad spikes, rusty railroad spikes at that, so, he started to go by Spike."

Xander leaned up, placing a quick kiss on his lover's cheek, seeing those blue eyes burn into the bastard's, holding him trapped in his gaze. "Oh, yes, one more thing, did I happen to mention, he's also a vampire."

At that, Spike morphed into gameface, relishing the fear that suddenly radiated from the sack of shit in the chair before him. He leaned down, grasping Xander's hand as the pain began to build, snarling, fully exposing his fangs.

"Right, mate. A vampire. We are real you know. And you touched what's mine. The penalty for that is death."

Xander's father began to shake, squeezing his eyes shut. It was a nightmare, not real, not real. His eyes shot back open as he felt another kick, this one to his ribs, this one harder then before. He felt the snap as they broke, heard the sick, sick noise.

Xander caught Spike as he fell, dragging him behind his father. There was no way that he was going to let his father see just how much it hurt Spike to exact his revenge. Spike lay on the floor, shaking, then nodded slightly, biting down hard on the towel that Xander had placed in his mouth to muffle his cries.

Buffy had moved to take Spike's place in front of Xander's father, luxuriating in the whimpers now coming from the man. "Oh, you think that hurt, that's nothing, nothing compared to what's coming." With that she again pulled his mouth open, pouring salt over the cut on his tongue. He began to scream as the agony hit. Louder and louder, knowing someone would come. Buffy just laughed, leaning in closer. "Scream all you want, no one will hear. You see, there's so much that you never bothered to learn about Xander's friends. Like the fact that his partner is a vampire. Like the fact that I'm a vampire slayer. Like the fact that Willow is a witch. We made sure that no one will hear you scream, you just go right ahead. Music to my ears." With that, she hit him again, throwing all her strength behind it, hearing the snapping of his jaw.

Xander moved back around to face his father, seeing the blood drip down, hearing the moans and whimpers coming from the bastard.

"You're probably wondering what all this is for," Xander cast his hand around the room. "Well, when I told Buffy and Spike that they couldn't just make you eat your heart, I had to give them a better idea. You see, I found a way to help ease the pain from all the times you raped me." Xander never took his eyes from his father's face, watching as his words beat into him. "I used to cut myself. Over and over and over again. Sometimes not for months. Sometimes several times a day. What you see now is how I used to best deal with the pain, the ritual I used to perform." Xander leaned in closer, grabbing his father's jaw, hearing the scream as he crushed the broken bones together. "The last time I did this was the night after you raped me a week after Anya left. I went a little too far, cut my left arm open. Almost died. Spike found me, saved my life. I want you to think about that, a demon without a soul cared for me more than you did. What does that make you?'

Spike slowed came around, moving to stand next to the table, reaching into the pocket of his duster and pulling out a key. He handed it to Xander, who nodded a quick thanks.

"So, after you tried to kill me, after you stabbed me then raped me, when all they wanted to do was kill you and let me drink your blood, I told them no. You see, that was too simple, the easy way out. Then, you would be dead and it would be over. You wouldn't have to have nightmares almost every night, you wouldn't have to flinch whenever someone touched you from behind, you wouldn't try to hurt the person you love when they try to stop you from hurting yourself. No, you would be dead. And no one would know what you had done. This way is much better."

Turning his back to the howling man before him, Xander walked to the table. He reached down, unlocking the lockbox, pulling out the box with his knife. Buffy moved over, joining Spike on either side as Xander slowly opened the box, slowly ran his finger across the blade, longing visible in his face. He slowly smiled, and the three of them turned back around.

"I'm going to do to you everything I did to myself. Then Buffy is going to have a chance to beat you like you beat me. Then Spike, well, Spike is going to teach you just how he got his name. But we aren't going to kill you. No, you're going to live. Then you're going to trial. And I'm going to tell the world just what a sick fuck you are. Do you know what happens to rapists in jail, do you? Do you know what happens to rapists who rape their own sons, do you? It's going to make this seem like heaven."

With that, Xander reached down, looking straight into his father's eyes. "And if you ever breathe a word of this to anyone, then I will let them do what they want. Nothing will be able to stop them."

"You bastard," the words spilled out from blood drenched lips.

Buffy slapped his father, making sure to hit on exactly the site of the break. "Scream all you want, but I told you, no speaking. You will never speak to him again."

Spike merely leaned down, pulling off the bastard's shoes, then removing his socks. He reached out, yellow flickering in his eyes, hands shaking from the pain shooting through his mind, but able to control it. He and Buffy had spent hours doing this, Buffy standing still while Spike hit her or tried to hit her, building up his tolerance for the pain. He pulled a knife from his boots, cutting the clothes off, until the bastard was sitting there, naked.

Xander turned, picking up the piece of glass that was lying on the table, reluctantly putting down the knife. "I was fourteen when I first learned how good it felt. You beat me, raped me, left me for dead. Crawled through broken glass, felt the sting. It was so pure. Let's see what you think." With that, he grabbed his father's right forearm, dragging the sharp edge up the arm, mouth opening when he saw the blood begin to flow. His father began to squirm in the chair, muffled cries coming out from his rapidly swelling face. "Oh, you like that, do you?" Xander continued to carve, adding another line next to the first, careful to not press too deeply. He didn't want to cause scarring, saving that for later.

"Glass is good, when you can get it, but sometimes you have to take what you can find." Xander put the glass back on the table, this time reaching for the jagged piece of metal lying there. "Anything sharp will do in a pinch. Now arms are the best, feels the best, the greatest relief. But, if you don't want anyone to see, then you have to be more careful."

With that, Spike finished untying his father's arms. Spike held them in a firm grip over the bastard's head as Xander leaned over and began to run the edge along his father's waist. "You see, this is good," his voice faded as he moved around the body, feeling his father trying to squirm away. Buffy came over and held the struggling man still. "This way, you feel it all day long, whenever you move." Slowly, slowly he moved, savouring every drop of blood that fell onto his hands, drinking in the hysterical note to his father's cries. Finally, he finished, dropping the metal to the floor. Spike immediately tied his father's arms down while Buffy moved to release his feet.

His father weakly kicked out, catching Buffy across the cheek. Xander immediately punched him in the ribs, aiming directly for the same spot Spike had kicked.

"You are stupider than I thought, fuck, you think you could really fight us all." Xander just shook his head. He felt Spike's hand on his shoulder, felt the weight of Spike's knife pressed into his hand. Spike and Buffy moved back to their positions flanking Xander's father, ready to stop him should he lash out again.

"A knife really is best though, cleaner edge, more control," Xander bent down and picked up one of the feet. He began tracing lines down the sole of each foot, the involuntary gasps and moans filling the room. He moved onto the top of each foot, carving a circle there. "This, this is great because when you walk you can't help but feel it. And speaking of walking. . ."

Buffy nodded, then untied the bastard's legs while Spike again untied his arms. Buffy moved to hold onto the man, seeing how pale Spike was, knowing that the pain must be excruciating. Buffy turned him around so that his back was to Xander. Xander kneeled down and placed the tips of the knife behind the left knee. "If you want to feel it when you walk, do this." With that, he yanked the blade down, delighting in the shrieking that began. He moved back and forth, one leg than the other, seeing the flesh part. Finally, he motioned for Buffy to sit him back down.

"Just tie his legs, make sure they are apart so I can get at his thighs" he murmured to Spike, who dropped a quick kiss on Xander's temple, pride filling him. Xander had learned well, knew that pain alone wasn't the key. No, it was this cut by cut description of what Xander had suffered that would cause the most agony.

Xander leaned down, running his hands along his father's thighs. "If you aren't going to be getting naked around anyone anytime soon, the thighs are always good too." He cut the lines, careful to keep them precise and even, each line exactly the same length. Finally satisfied, he leaned back up.

"Lift his arms in the air." Buffy quickly complied and Xander moved to straddle his father. "If you don't want to bother with blood, then you can just do this." With that, he began to rub the knife along the man's sides, rubbing the flesh raw. "Really hurts when you're wearing cotton and it sticks." He moved slowly, Spike forcing the head down so that Xander could see exactly how much agony he was causing.

When both sides were rubbed raw, Buffy let his arms down, tying them flat to the arms of the chair. With that, Xander moved back to pick up his knife, twirling the blade in his hands.

"I bought this for one purpose and one purpose only. To open my own flesh. Seem to have finally found a better use for it."

Xander began running the blade slowly, so slowly along the flesh of his father's right arm, his breath coming faster and faster. Each cut slightly deeper than the last until ten perfect lines appeared. "This is what I did that night, this is what you made me do, for no reason, I never did anything to you. I thought for years that I had caused it, that there was something about me. There wasn't. It was you, always you, nothing about me." The strangled cries were louder and Xander felt hot tears drop on his shoulder. "Oh, does that hurt. Really, you know what, think I know that."

He moved to the left arm, began hacking away, feeling the rage begin to slip, listening to the screaming coming louder and louder. Finally, he cut the arm free, pulled it into the air.

"And this, this is how I almost died."

He pulled the knife down his father's arm, careful not to go as deeply as he had, wanting the blood to come out but not pour down. There was no way he was going to let the piece of shit die. No, he wanted him to live a nice, long, unhappy life as someone's bitch. Done, he watched the blood drip down.

"One last thing, the most desperate of all. If you truly, truly need it and want to make sure no one knows, there's always this." With that he ran the very tip of the knife along the length of his father's penis.

The screams cut off as his father passed out. Panting, Xander pulled away, drenched in blood.

"Why don't you get cleaned up. Make you feel better." Spike's voice in his ear. "Looks like he will be out for a little before Slayer gets her chance. Don't like to see the bastard's blood on you." Xander nodded and moved for the shower, grabbing a towel from the bag along with the spare set of clothes Spike had packed.

Spike and Buffy stood over the chair, gazing down. Finally, Buffy looked up, tears in her eyes.

"Is that what happened, he cut himself, almost died?" Buffy was shaking, she hadn't known, Xander hadn't told her just why he needed to use the knife.

Spike nodded. "Yes. If I hadn't come over that night, he probably would have died." His eyes closed as the sight of Xander's still body came to him. **Over, it's over, never again** He couldn't help it though, he moved back to check that Xander had left the knife. A sigh escaped him when he saw it there. He listened closely, hearing the sounds of the shower, the memories spilling into him. He turned back, eyes blazing yellow.

"Spike, gods, Spike," Buffy stopped, unsure of how to continue. "No wonder you were so angry, how could we have never seen?" She stopped, turning her pain into the rage she felt growing.

"Because he didn't want you to, Slayer." Spike forced the words out. "He knew what he was doing."

"Does he still do it?" Buffy asked, wincing as she saw the pain cross Spike's face.

"It was a near thing last night. That's why we're here, why he finally decided it was time."

Buffy just nodded, watching the face of that thing in the chair, seeing the head toss back and forth. It was coming back to consciousness. Good. Her turn.

Xander emerged from the bathroom, wearing one of Spike's shirts, the scent of it helping to calm his shaking. He moved to stand next to Spike, reaching out for his hand. He did feel better, calmer, the rage dying down, replaying the scene in his mind. He supposed he should feel guilty, but he didn't. No court could ever extract the proper kind of justice.

They watched as the bastard slowly opened his eyes, watching them widen in fear as he saw Buffy standing directly in front of him.

"Wish I could think of something witty to say. Can't. Wish I had done this years ago. Wish he would let me kill you." With that her fist lashed out, knocking his jaw the other way, hearing the snap. She laid into him with vicious cries, striking out again and again, first with her fists, then her feet, clawing red lines down his face, pulling out tufts of hair. She methodically moved up his body, driving the toe of her boots into his groin, making sure to connect with the cut there. Spike finally reached out, pulling her back, ignoring her cry of protest, ignoring the pain in his head.

"Slayer, he's unconscious again. Don't want to break too many bones, now, has to live remember."

Buffy spun for one last kick, striking the ribs on the opposite side from Spike's kick. She moved over, throwing herself into Xander's arms, the tears falling on them both, the pain and rage pouring out. Xander just held her, knowing the was weeping for them both, for the pain that Xander had endured. Finally, she calmed, pushing away and leaning up to place a gentle kiss on Xander's cheek.

"I am so sorry." Nothing was enough, nothing would ever make up for their ignorance of his pain.

Xander kissed her forehead, then moved to stand next to Spike who was just staring down with a feral look in his eyes.

"You sure you want to try this?" Xander was concerned, the echoes of Spike's head striking the floor when the seizure had overtaken him ringing in Xander's ears. Being back in the basement was causing all the memories to surface, each of them clear and true.

"Bloody hell, yes." There was no way that Spike could stop now.

Xander nodded, moving back to the bag. "Have the blood right here, just, remember, Buffy gets to pull you off if I think it's gone too far."

Spike just nodded, sensing consciousness returning to the body in front of him.

"Slayer. It is time. Untie him." The tone of authority rang out. Buffy moved quickly, releasing the man, then bending him over the chair, tying his hand together then tying that rope to the couch. She spread his legs wide, tying each one to the bars that had been placed in the basement earlier in the day.

Spike knelt next to the chair, the pain from the chip serving only to fuel his fire. He saw those eyes open and stared straight into them, yellow eyes burning madly.

"Now you will know pain. I can do things that you have never imagined. I can make it last for days. You will beg to die and I will not allow it. I will never allow it. If my mate would let me, I would turn you and keep you alive in the torments of hell forever. But he is more compassionate than I. Pity, that." The words rang out, Buffy and Xander taking an involuntary step backwards. Neither had ever seen this, never experienced Spike in the full power of his fury. He reached out, pulled the spike from his coat and moved to stand behind the man.

"It's a pity you are so weak, there is so much I long to do." With that, Spike began to slowly work the end of the spike underneath the skin at the base of the bastard's skull. The screaming began in earnest as Spike dragged the spike down, so so slowly, tracing the line of the vertebrae.

"You see, done correctly, I can remove your spine, one vertebrae at a time and show it to you. But, no, I won't. Want you to be able to move, to perform for whoever wants you as a toy when you get to prison." Finally, he reached the base of the spine. Curving his hand, he began to trace lines into the skin, starting right below the mark on the man's waist.

"My mate learned well, not that I had much to teach him. You made sure of that." Spike's hands were beginning to shake, his vision beginning to blur as the pain grew and grew. The cuts grew more ragged as he moved quickly. Stepping back, he took several deep breaths, allowing the pain to recede slightly. He sensed Xander beginning to move towards him and he held up a hand. Not yet. Just a little more. Reluctantly jettisoning the remainder of his plans, he proceeded directly to his ultimate goal.

"So, you like giving it. Let's see how you like taking it." Pressing down on the cuts on the back, he placed the tip of the spike against the bastard's anus and began to shove it home. Howling erupted as the blood began to flow. Spike felt the seizure hit, felt Buffy's hands yank him away, saw Xander run over, a cup in his hands, felt his head being lifted, the cup held to his mouth.

"Drink, you need it drink," Xander's voice. He opened his mouth, prepared for the rich taste of Xander's blood. He swallowed and his eyes shot open. Not Xander's. Buffy's. Slayer blood, the purest of all. He felt the power pour into him, the blood instantly stopping the pain.

He sat up, staring into Buffy's eyes. "Slayer." The word breathed out, shock in his voice.

Buffy just stared back. "It was the least I could do," she said quietly. "The only apology I had."

He just nodded, turning back to the body on the chair. Xander had pulled the spike out, knowing that going deeper would only cause a tear that could kill his father. He meant what he said. There was no way he was going to let him die. The torment of living would be much worse.

He was unconscious again. The blood slowly stopped pouring down. The trio just watched, unmoving, unblinking. Spike scented deeply.

"He'll live," disapproval clear in his voice.

"Good," the flat response from Xander. "Let him suffer. They'll kill him in prison."

Buffy just nodded. She moved forward, untied him, let the body slump onto the floor. She went back upstairs and quickly returned carrying Xander's mother in her arms. She placed her on the floor next to Xander's father.

"She should get the message." The flat tone of her voice betrayed nothing of her emotions.

Xander looked at his watch. 3:30 a.m. He quickly stripped the cloth from the window, Spike moving behind him, helping clear the room. Quickly, everything was packed back into the trunk. Buffy hauled the trunk up the back steps, carrying it out to the car.

Spike stood next to Xander, just leaning into his shoulder. Xander sighed, exhausted. He felt something press into his hand. He looked down, curious as to what it could be.

It was the knife. He looked over, stunned. Spike just stared back. Without a word, Xander walked to the table, lifted up the box, put the knife back in, closed it, walked back and handed it to Spike.

They headed out into the night, wanting nothing more but to go home and go to sleep.

Part Sixteen

"All rise."

With that, all in the courtroom stood, Willow reaching out to take Tara's hand. The trial had started three days earlier and they had all been there every day, arranging themselves in a row behind the prosecution. Willow had been unable to tear her eyes away from the thing that was Xander's father, feeling her eyes fill with tears as she was forced to change all her memories of the man. All those years, all that time and she had never known, had never suspected a thing. She still couldn't forgive herself, couldn't believe that she hadn't felt something, hadn't known that something was horribly, horribly wrong. It destroyed her to know that Spike had discovered, that Spike was the one to whom Xander now immediately turned. She turned her head slightly to see Spike leaning on the wall in the corner, the one place that the sun didn't reach as it moved past the windows. They had been unable to find anything to protect him, so he simply drove in with Xander, watched him walk through the front doors then took off under a blanket for the side door that Giles had arranged to have open for him. Each time he would begin to smoke slightly, but he refused to stay behind.

Xander had testified for a day and a half. It had been devastating. He had calmly and clearly set forth in detail exactly how his father had abused him. As long as he could remember, his father had hit him. It wasn't until he was eleven that his father had begun raping him, too. Half his life. For almost exactly half his life his father had used him. Xander hadn't broken down once, not even under the intense cross-examination. The only way that Willow had been able to tell that Xander was hurting was the way that he locked eyes with Spike. Willow could feel the electricity between them, could nearly see the bond between them. When Xander had finally left the stand, he went immediately to stand with Spike. Their hands had locked and they stood there, still as statues while the officers who had responded to the alarm told how they rushed into the apartment, how they heard the sounds of flesh against flesh, how they saw Xander being violated, how they pulled their guns and demanded Xander's father stop, how they had finally been forced to shoot. During it all, Xander and Spike hadn't moved. Willow wasn't even sure that Xander had breathed. At the end, they simply turned on their heels and left. That night, blood had poured as they patrolled, all of them pitched to a killing rage. Luckily, some trolls had decided that the Slayer would be distracted and had attempted to set up home in the remains of Sunnydale High. They shortly learned their mistake.

Willow glanced over at Tara, feeling the warm hand in hers. She had never seen her love like that, the blood rushing to her face as they chanted, setting free the spell they had been working on for weeks. It worked, ensuring that the trolls would live through the worst that Buffy and Giles could do. Spike and Xander had simply watched, eyes burning bright, as the rest set to work. Willow had never wanted Tara more than the moment she glanced over and saw her girlfriend covered in blood, the remains of some unrecognisable body part in her hands. Willow knew that she must have looked the same, for Tara had suddenly walked over, grabbed her and kissed her hard, right in front of the others. Tara. Shy, reserved Tara, marking Willow as her own. They had barely made it to their room before falling into each other's arms.

"The prosecution now calls William Bredon."

Willow's head shot up. Bredon. So that was Spike's name. She had never realised before that this was the first she had heard it. She watched as the heavy blinds were closed. When the district attorney learned that Spike had actually witnessed Xander being attacked in the months before the murder attempt she had insisted that Spike testify. The prosecution was attempting to make a case of attempted first degree murder and any testimony which could establish a long standing, pre-existing pattern of violence would be helpful. Spike had readily agreed, he was only too eager to see Xander's father put away forever. He had gone so far as to call Angel and arrange for one of Angel's contacts at Cedars-Sinai to provide a detailed explanation of Spike's photophobia, ensuring that the courtroom would be blocked from sun. Angel had been stunned at Spike's daring. By doing this, Spike would officially exist, would have an identity beyond that which he had created. It had come as a shock to everyone except Xander that Spike had a fully documented past. Education, driver's license, medical history, green card. All of it seemingly authentic and all in perfect order.

Spike gave a last squeeze to Xander's hand as they walked to the front of the courtroom. Xander slipped down on the bench to sit next to Willow, who immediately took his hand. She sent a quick prayer to all the gods and goddesses she could remember that the silicon they had used to coat Spike's hand would protect him as she saw the bailiff place the Bible in front of Spike.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"Yes." Willow breathed a sigh of relief. A quick flinch back at the mention of God, a small, almost undetectable wisp of smoke, but nothing else.

"Can you please state your name for the record?"

"William Patrick Jonathan Bredon."

"And you are originally from England?"

"Yes. London."

"And you moved to the United States, when?"

"In 1991, obtained my green card in 1994."

Willow tilted her head, there was something different to Spike's voice, something odd to his accent.

"And your relationship to Alexander Harris?"

Willow saw Spike's eyes glance over to Xander, the small smile cross his lips momentarily. Then gone, back to staring straight at the woman in front of him.

"I'm his partner." Spike was unable to keep the pride from his voice and Willow could see the smile on Xander's face.

"I see. Now, you are currently living with Mr. Harris, is that correct?"

"Yes." Again, the note of pride.

"Was there ever a time during which you resided with Mr. Harris when he lived at Defendant's house?"

"Yes." Again, the curious note to Spike's voice. Finally, Willow figured it out. It was his accent. His accent was almost completely different. Gone was the almost cockney growl. Instead, this accent was cultured, educated, upper class. Willow's eyes narrowed. Maybe there was a lot more that they didn't know about Spike.

"And during that time, did you ever have occasion to see the Defendant strike Mr. Harris?"

"Objection, leading."

Spike closed his eyes briefly as he heard the lawyers start to argue. His hand still burned from touching the Bible, but it was bearable. Actually, it was good as it gave him something to concentrate on, somewhere to focus his mind so that his control wouldn't slip. He carefully avoided meeting Xander's gaze. They had talked about this, Spike warning Xander not to be hurt if he didn't look at his lover the entire time he testified. Spike wasn't sure if he could maintain his human guise if he had to see Xander's face while he told what he saw.

"You may continue, Mr. Bredon." So strange, he hadn't heard that name in so long.

"Yes." The simple one word answer. They had gone through his testimony time after time, the prosecutor stressing that he was to only answer what he was asked, not to volunteer any information.

"Can you please tell the court exactly what happened?"

Spike took a deep breath, concentrating on the mechanics of it in order to calm him. **Right, just, tell what you saw. Leave out the part about trying to rip out his throat. Remember what you told her**

"I had been having some problems with where I was staying and Xander was nice enough to say I could stay with him. I had been there approximately two weeks when I went out to run some errands one night. I returned after two hours to find Xander face down on the floor, blood everywhere. His father," it was only with a fierce concentration of will that he was able to keep the snarl out of his voice, the yellow from his eyes, "was in the process of raping Xander." He stopped, taking another deep breath.

"And what did you do then?"

"I ran down, grabbed the man and threw him into the wall. Checked to see if Xander was still alive. He was. I helped him up and then took him to the hospital."

"And how did you know it was Xander's father?"

"I was familiar with him from seeing him on prior occasions. I also recognised his voice."

"Was his father saying something when you entered?"

"Yes." Spike's eyes closed again as he heard the words. "He was saying 'Oh yeah, you like it, you always like it, you know you want it'."

"Could you identify the man that you saw?'

"Yes, the defendant sitting right over there."

Xander closed his eyes, the events of that night coming back to him. He slowly ran a thumb across his right wrist, remembering the terror of the night, how sure he had been that Spike would die, how Spike had tasted his blood for the first time. That was the beginning of everything, the start of their love. Now, here they were. Spike, sitting in a courtroom, testifying for him. Creating a record of his existence that could not simply be erased. Xander listened idly, not really hearing the words but just the general tone of the questioning as the prosecutor took Spike through to the events of the night of the final attack. He had heard this story again and again as they had been prepared for their testimony and each time it tore him to hear how Spike had returned to find the police. Finally, the questioning was done and the defence attorney began to try to rip Spike's testimony apart.

Xander's head came up as he listened to the exchange between his partner and the lawyer. Spike stayed completely calm, completely unflappable, parrying each thrust with ease, not falling into any of the semantic traps into which Xander was sure he had fallen. He, too, noticed the change in Spike's accent. **So, I was right** A smile flicked across his face. During the past sixteen months, give or take, that they had been living together, Xander had slowly realised that Spike had been downplaying just how intelligent he truly was. But it came out in little ways. Like how Spike was better than any thesaurus, always knowing the right word. The sarcastic little comments as Xander discussed what his various professors said in class. The way Xander could rely on Spike to help organise his thoughts as he wrote his papers. How when Spike was exhausted he would fall back into this accent, sounding suspiciously like Giles. Now, Spike was going toe to toe with the attorney and was easily winning every round. And Xander was quite sure it wasn't just because the lawyer was obviously not very good.

Finally, Spike was allowed to step down and he came immediately to Xander's side.

"Move down, you silly gits, can't sit on his lap here, now can I." The familiar drawl was back. Everyone moved over so Spike could sit down. Spike's testimony had taken nearly all afternoon and the judge glanced over at the clock.

"We're going to call it a day here. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I stress once again that you are not to discuss this matter with anyone, nor amongst yourselves. We will start tomorrow at 9:00 a.m. I would like to see counsel as sidebar." Again, everyone rose as the jury was led out. Xander glanced at his watch as they headed for the door.

"Still light, I'll wait for you in the Jeep." He glanced around and then quickly leaned over for a chaste kiss.

"Be right there, Red, blanket in the same place?" They had found that no one ever looked behind the trash can just inside the side door.

"Yes, I checked after lunch." Willow called out as she left with Tara, anxious to get home so that she could cry, not wanting to do so in front of Xander, seeing how he had remained so strong.

Spike nodded, concentrating on the conversation behind him. He could clearly hear every word.

"Mr. Davies, Ms. Traxler, any further discussions on a plea?" The judge's voice sounded down from the bench.

"Your Honour, my client is determined to show these scurrilous allegations," began Mr. Davies.

"Look, leave it for closing. Even without the other testimony, you have three police officers who had to shoot your client to get him off his son's body. Ms. Traxler, do you have an offer."

"Your Honour, we feel that we can clearly show pre-meditation," She too was cut off.

"Again, leave it for closing. You have a confrontation in Wal-Mart a week before and that's it. According to the victim and his boyfriend, they didn't even see the defendant for nine months before that. Make an offer."

"Attempted second degree, assault with a deadly weapon, rape - 30 years, eligible for parole in 15."

"No way. Attempted third, assault with a deadly weapon, aggravated assault. 15 years, parole in 5."

Spike went still. They were going to let that beast out of jail. They were bartering over what they had done to HIS Xander. He shifted into gameface without realising it, his hands clenching and unclenching. **You know this is how it works, you're a man of the world. If they deal, it'll be over and Xander won't have to testify again** Xander hadn't actually slept more than three hours at a time since the trial began, running purely on adrenaline and caffeine. Spike hadn't fared much better, being up during the day was wreaking havoc on his body.

"You have got to be kidding. Your client raped his own child for eleven years. The least he can do is that much time." Spike nodded once, hearing the contempt in the lawyer's voice. "Attempted second, rape - 15 years, eligible for parole in 10."

"My client will never agree to any deal with rape in it."

"Then we're going to verdict."

The judge stepped in then. "Mr. Davies, I am sure you have fulfilled your obligation to your client and have told him the repercussions he's now facing. Right now, he's looking at the potential of life in jail. As a rapist." The judge leaned over, his voice growing firm. "Just so we have all the cards on the table, if the jury comes back guilty on any count, I will not be inclined to be lenient. See if you can't talk some sense into your client. Otherwise, see you tomorrow."

Spike quickly ducked into the hallway, his chest burning. **At least the judge has some bloody sense** He retrieved the blanket and ran to the Jeep.

---

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict?"

"We have, Your Honour."

Spike could hear the crinkling of the paper as it was unfolded, as the judge read the verdict. He could hear the space in between each beat of Xander's heart. The judge looked up.

"On the charge of attempted murder in the first degree - guilty."

The court filled with the sudden sound of exhalation. Spike absently noted that Xander's mother had begun to weep. He had paid her no mind the entire time of the trial. To him, she no longer existed.

"On the charge of assault with a deadly weapon - guilty."

"On the charge of first degree sexual assault - guilty."

Xander just leaned back into Spike, fighting back the tears. Over, it was over. The rest of the counts went by but neither of them heard. It was over.

"Defendant is remanded back into custody. Sentencing in two weeks." Almost over.

Xander felt himself be engulfed by arms. Willow's, Anya's Buffy's, Tara's even Giles'. Their support there, solid. They knew and they hadn't left. They knew and they didn't think he was evil. He basked in the glow until a cold voice knifed through his comfort.

"You happy, now, you ruined him, you lied and you ruined him, you freak, you sick freak, he's your father, how could you," the hysterical sound of his mother's voice as she tore everyone away from him.

Buffy managed to grab Spike and slam his face against the wall as he instantly moved to protect Xander.

"Not here, can't explain, hate her too, Xander can deal," Buffy muttered as she held the struggling Spike. The only downside to their training was that Spike could now fight back, at least somewhat, before the pain overwhelmed him.

"Kill the bitch, blaming him, should have killed her when we had the chance," the returning mutters as Spike struggled to get free. "Nothing will ever hurt him again."

Xander just stared down at the furious woman with contempt. He reached out, taking Spike's hand, rubbing his thumb over the back, trying to calm the vampire.

"You know it wasn't a lie. You know it was the truth. I did nothing to him. Now, if you'll excuse me, my mate and I are leaving. Don't ever speak to me again. You are nothing to me. You are dead to me. Spike, we're leaving."

With that, they walked out the door. This time, Xander ran with Spike under the blanket.

---

Xander groaned as he slowly swam back awake. He and Spike had driven straight back from the courthouse and walked directly to bed. For the first time, it wasn't for sex. It was to sleep. They were both exhausted, physically, mentally and emotionally. Spike, in particular, as not only had he been forced to be awake during the day, he had stayed up to calm Xander when the nightmares hit. Xander had surfaced a few times to use the bathroom, jealous of Spike the entire time he was awake, jealous that Spike didn't have this petty problem. Spike had just slept like a log. Xander looked at the clock. 9:47. He couldn't tell if it was morning or night due to the blackout curtains over the windows. Hell, he didn't even know what day it was. He kicked Spike, hard. If he had to be awake, he sure wasn't going to be alone. A return groan reached his ears.

"Shouldn't feel this bad without drinking first." The words were muffled by the pillow.

"Uh huh, not right."

They groggily sat up, blinking slowly at each other. A warm smile crept over Spike's face.

"Pet, you didn't have any nightmares last night, did you?" He thought this might happen, that the finality of the verdict might calm Xander, start the healing process.

Xander opened his mouth to answer, then thought back. No. He hadn't woken screaming, couldn't remember any horrible images.

"Nope," Xander grinned himself. "Maybe that wasn't so bad after all. How long do you think we've been asleep?"

"No idea, luv. Hungry, though." Spike was ravenous and was having trouble concentrating as he could see the artery on the base of Xander's throat pulse. Hungry in all kinds of ways.

Spike pushed himself off the bed and staggered to the kitchen. He pulled out some blood, quickly heating it. He heard Xander behind him pouring out some cereal. They sat comfortably in silence for a moment before the phone started to ring.

"Harris's house of horrors, how can we disembowel you?"

"Xander, hey, so you finally woke up." Buffy's way, way too cheerful voice boomed into the room.

"Yeah, just now. How long were we out, anyway?" Xander yawned, stretching out the kinks in his back. Spike just stared, entranced. He loved it when Xander stretched. Especially when his back was to Spike so he could stare all he wanted without being hit.

"Let's see, last saw you on Tuesday around 2:30 in the afternoon. It's now almost 10:00 on Thursday night. Please tell me you've been asleep this whole time. Lie if you need to." Buffy really did not want to contemplate the other reasons they could have been holed up for the last two days.

Xander's jaw dropped. They had been asleep for nearly 2 ½ days. That had to be some kind of record. "No, just asleep. Not lying." He gulped as he felt Spike's mouth close on the back of his neck. "Of course, we're awake now. Gotta go." With that, he disconnected the line, turning the ringer off for good measure. They had long since gotten rid of the phone in the bedroom after Spike had forgotten to actually hang up one day and Willow, in a display of deviousness neither had known she possessed, had taped the ensuing events. Then played the tape at that night's Scooby meeting.

"So, it's Thursday, is it?" Spike muttered, his lips still tracing along Xander's spine, searching for that spot, right there. He was rewarded with a tremor which ran through both their bodies.

"According to Buffy," Xander managed to get out, trying to turn around. Spike held him fast, refusing to let him move.

"Hmm, don't seem to remember having sex on Tuesday, don't seem to remember Wednesday at all, and it's very late on Thursday. That means three days without you, Xan. That's just not acceptable."

Spike continued his long, meandering journey down Xander's back. He loved Xander's back, loved to trace the muscles there, loved the way it both tickled and aroused Xander, loved to drive Xander insane while not allowing him to touch Spike, loved the frustration of it. He was hard already, but he wanted this to be long and slow. Needed this to be long and slow. Over. It was all over but the final details. They could put all this behind them and start their lives together without any cloud over them. Spike could feel the weight lifted from them and he felt like it was all new, that this was the mark of a new chapter in their life. And he would be damned if he was just going to take Xander quick and dirty on the kitchen floor. As wonderful as that sounded.

Xander just shuddered. "No argument here." They never went this long without sex. Some days it was a miracle they made it out of bed at all. And some days they didn't. And now that mouth, oh, the things that Spike was doing with that mouth, could do with that mouth, would do with that mouth. Xander pulled himself together. Not yet. It was over, it was all over. They could finally start anew. The old life was over and the new life was beginning. The house had been the start of it, he knew that, but now, now he was on his way to truly being free. His secrets were all gone. Everyone knew about his father, about his cutting, about Spike. And they all still cared for him, still wanted him around.

"Spike," he started, then stopped. He meant it to be firm, not husky, not sounding like he was begging Spike for more.

"Yes, sweeting?"

Spike only ever called him that when they were making love and the sound of it drove him insane. **Think calming thoughts, calming thoughts. Willow. Willow. Willow and Tara. Not good. Not calming. Let's see. Giles in a Speedo. Ok, that's better**

Xander pulled away with a yank, ignoring the growl of protest. "Spike, just, in a minute, need you too, but, want to talk to you, first."

Spike just reached out, eyes glazing over. "Sure, pet, anything you say."

Xander batted the hands away, cursing himself as he did so. "No, really. Talk first. Just a little. Look, just, wanted to tell you, you've been so good to me, helped so much, and well," **shit, you can tell him you love him from dusk to dawn, in front of Giles and everyone and can't say THIS** "just, thanks. Means a lot."

Spike just nodded, hearing what hadn't been said. He reached out, taking Xander's right hand in his.

"You know, we never even thought about this scarring." He traced a finger along the short, pale line running just on the inside of Xander's wrist. They both looked down as Xander's fingers curled around Spike's palm.

"I did." Xander kept his eyes on Spike's hand. "I wanted it to. Even before I knew anything else, I wanted it to scar. Wanted to remember what you did. How you saved me."

Spike's hand moved down and clasped Xander's and they stood there for a moment, feeling the shift, standing on the edge of something new. Then Xander raised their hands to his mouth and began to suck on their fingers. Spike's eyes rolled back as that clever tongue began running over, around and between their fingers, down their palms and back up again, very, very slowly.

"Done talking now. Race you to bed." With that, Xander took off down the hall, knowing full well he wasn't nearly a match for Spike's speed. Spike caught him as they entered the living room and threw him on the couch.

"Too far away. Naked. Now." With that Spike ripped off his shirt and yanked away his boxers and Xander did the same. Spike threw himself back on top of Xander and they began to thrust against one another, tongues licking everywhere they could find. Xander began to lick up the column of Spike's throat while Spike traced the shape of his ear with his tongue. They knew each other so well now, knew exactly where to be gentle and where to be firm. Xander pulled Spike down on top of him, kissing him slowly, deeply, sucking that cold tongue far into his mouth, the coppery aftertaste of blood lingering there. Xander swallowed the moan that came from Spike, even as he felt their hips begin to rock in the familiar rhythm. He began to pull Spike up, moving his mouth lower and lower, lingering on those collarbones, nibbling from one end to the other and back again. Slowly, slowly, knowing he was taunting Spike but unable to care, he moved back up Spike's throat, feeling the hands wrapped in his hair, thrilled at the purrs and growls he was causing. After all this time, it still aroused him to know that he aroused Spike, that he could do things that drove the vampire right up to and over to the edge. He leaned up to capture Spike's mouth again, only to feel his arms grabbed and roughly yanked over his head.

"My turn, luv. Two can play at this game you know," a rough voice panted into his ear. Xander simply arched his neck, letting Spike feast on the expanse. Spike took his turn in caressing every inch of Xander's neck with his tongue, lingering over the bite marks. They both sighed deeply, both wishing Spike could bite Xander again. However, every time they tried it only hurt Spike more. Not even all the preparation for attacking the bastard had helped. Occasionally, Xander would purposefully knick himself while shaving and Spike would lap it clean, but, other than that, no other biting. Xander sighed, knowing they would come up with something. Spike turned his attention to Xander's nipples and Xander arched up again, the tugging almost too good, almost too much. Forcing himself up, he grabbed Spike's shoulders and managed to push Spike onto his back on the other end of the couch.

"My turn again," Xander panted, flipping Spike over. As much as Spike loved to kiss Xander's back, Xander loved to kiss Spike's more. For some reason, it drove Spike insane, especially times like now, when he allowed Xander to pin his arms down, when he gave up all control and just let himself be ravaged. Maybe it was just that, the loss of control, however fleeting, that did it, but this, this drove Spike mad. Xander worked his way down each vertebrae, the bones so clearly outlined, so thin, so pale. Xander traced his way along each rib, feeling the shudders underneath him. He rubbed his cock just along Spike's ass, not seeking entrance, just teasing, letting the heat burn into Spike, watching the white of the one eye he could see in Spike's profile, basking in the inarticulate words. Spike began to thrust upwards, trying to impale himself on Xander. Xander simply pulled back, kneeling between Spike's legs so that the only parts of him touching his lover were his hands on Spike's wrists and the very tip of his tongue. He continued to travel down, ignoring the begging coming from Spike, enjoying his power, the way he could take them higher and higher. Finally, he stopped, right at the base of Spike's spine, just above his ass. He leaned down and bit. Hard. He began to suck, hating that the mark would fade so fast. He heard the sudden gasp, the uncontrollable buck as Spike jerked straight up. Luckily, he had been prepared and simply rose along with the movement. Spike yanked his arms up, turned and pushed Xander back down in one fluid motion.

"That's not playing fair." Spike was in gameface now, needing all his control simply to stop from coming then and there. Xander just laughed, leaned up and kissed him.

"Never said I played fair."

Spike growled in response and shook his head, trying to pull back. He wanted Xander in his mouth and there was no way to do that with his fangs down. Xander pulled back slightly, rubbing a calming hand down Spike's arm, breathing deeply himself. Spike's human face finally dropped back into place and he immediately dived down, intent on tasting Xander. Xander, however, stopped him just before he could take the tip into his mouth.

"Me too, want to taste you too," he managed to pant out, losing himself into the deep pools of blue staring up at him.

"Sure thing, pet, but, not sure," Spike leaned up on one elbow, frantically looking at the couch. "Not enough room. Fuck."

"Floor then." With that Xander tumbled them both down, Spike falling on top of him. He quickly turned on his side, propping his back against the couch. Spike quickly manoeuvred around and paused, their mouths both breathing down on the other. A quick nod and then their mouths descended in unison, fire and ice, hot and cold, all tangled together. Pumping together, moving as one. Xander's eyes closed as he imagined the picture they must make, dark and light, an orubus twining onto itself, perfect unity, wrapped together. He began to pump into Spike's mouth, the thought driving him mad. One. They were one. He felt his orgasm coming from far away, but couldn't tell Spike. Not when he was taking that perfect length as far down his throat as he could. Not when he was trying to reach up to push a finger into that impossibly tight ass. Not when he could feel Spike's prick twitching in his mouth. Not when he could taste that cold, salty taste pour down his throat. He swallowed hard, knowing that Spike was doing the same, that they were coming together, were one, truly one.

They slowly pulled apart, Spike turning to rest in Xander's arms. They sighed, content.

"Food, now?" Spike twisted his head around to catch Xander's lips.

"Well, don't really want to eat. Something else?" Xander raised his head just enough to ask the question, feeling a familiar stirring in his groin. **Wow, so that's the key, take a few days off, improve recovery time**

Spike grinned, rocking his hips back into Xander, hearing the appreciative response. "So, you have other ideas."

"Oh, hell, yes. But bed this time. Need the supplies."

Spike laughed, stood, reached out a hand and pulled Xander to his feet.

"Race you." With that, he took off down the hall.

Part Seventeen

The stacks of books surrounded her, growing taller and taller by the day. The room smelled of dust and decay and sheepskin. Streams of paper curled down from the tops of the piles, with only a small space in the centre of the circle existing, a tiny path through which the witch could enter to sit and resume her desperate search breaking the perfect wall of books. The head bent down, large tome open in her lap, eyes skimming quickly down the page, searching, frantically seeking a solution. The red hair was dull and her clothes were musty. She had ceased caring about trivial things such as eating and sleeping days before, only this mattered, it was all she could do.

"Willow," Tara tremulously sounded out, careful to keep her voice low. "Willow, come on, you have to sleep."

Tara was beginning to seriously worry. Ever since Xander had revealed what had happened to him, Willow had been obsessed with finding some way to make it up to him for her failure to protect him during those years she was his best friend. The long conversations that Xander had with Willow during which he explained to her that the reason she didn't know was that he had worked hard to keep it from her had done nothing to calm her. She still blamed herself. Nothing anyone could say could keep the guilt from eating Willow, from tearing into her soul. Tara sent yet another quick prayer of thanks to the goddess that Willow had chosen to turn to her for help instead of pushing Tara away as Tara had so feared. That was the only sign of hope as Willow began to collapse, the fact that she not only allowed Tara to stay but turned to her for support gave Tara some assurance that Willow would find her way back from whatever dark place into which her lover had descended.

"Can't, busy." Willow muttered, rubbing distractedly at her eyes.

"Willow, please, the sentencing is tomorrow and you know that Xander will be upset enough without seeing you look like you haven't had any sleep in a week." Tara felt a twinge of guilt at using Xander as blackmail but ignored it. She knew that Xander would have happily told her to use him if he only knew how bad it was.

Willow carefully marked her place, sliding a silk marker into the volume she was reading and obediently came over to Tara. Tara had discovered that this was the one thing to which Willow would respond. Anything Tara mentioned that could possibly hurt Xander was instantly eliminated. Willow stretched carefully, trying to work out the kinks in her back. Tara came over and started to rub her shoulders and Willow let out a huge sigh.

"Sorry I've been so, so away lately, just, feel so bad about everything and Xander's hurting so much and I want to help, but I can't find what I'm looking for, don't even know if it exists, but I have to find it, it's the only thing I can think to give him, have to help him, have to make him better," Willow stared to babble as the gentle, loving hands roamed over her back. "You've been so sweet, putting up with all of this, I've been such a bad girlfriend, haven't told you how much I love you,"

Tara cut off Willow's exhausted ramblings with a firm kiss. "Shh, it's fine. I know you love me. I know you need to do whatever it is that you're doing." Tara reached down and took both of Willow's hands into hers, gently pulling them over to their bed. She settled Willow down onto the mattress, running a hand through her hair, trying to work out the tangles. Willow still looked beautiful, even with dark circles under her eyes and messed up hair, unwashed face and three day old clothes. Still as beautiful as always. "I just wish you would tell me what you're looking for so that I could help." With that, she dropped a quick kiss on Willow's forehead.

Willow was nearly asleep, her body finally overruling her mind. "Just, a spell, curse, something, gotta help him, keep them together, make him . . ." Willow's voice died off as sleep swept her away. Tara carefully undressed her, smoothing Willow's favourite night-gown over her body, then curled into bed with her lover, pulling her close.

"I know you'll find it, you always do. Sleep." Tara settled her head into Willow's shoulder and joined her partner in dreams.

---

Spike glared over at the people in their living room, trying to blot out the buzzing noise of their voices. Spike had assumed that once the guilty verdict had been rendered, that would be the end of their dealings with the prosecutor. He had been furious to learn that, no, his Xander would be forced to relive it all yet again for some ridiculous thing called a Victim Impact Statement. What the fucking hell impact did they think it would have on Xander to have not only been beaten and raped for over eleven years but then to have his own father try to kill him. Xander had been forced to tell about the nightmares and the difficulty sleeping, how he still started whenever anyone came up behind him, how sometimes just the smell of Jim Beam was enough to make his hands shake. Spike had merely paced furiously back and forth across the living room, smoking cigarette after cigarette, knowing that Xander would collapse once the stupid people left.

They had finally left after four hours, four hours during which Xander once again ripped open his soul. Xander remained sitting still on the couch, shaking, for hours after their departure, eyes dead, seeing nothing but the visions in his own mind. Spike had left him alone, knowing he needed to come to his own decisions. He had remained in the room, however, never more than a few steps away. Xander looked terrible, looked like he was at the end of his rope. Spike knew it was bad when Xander stole a cigarette, plucking it straight from Spike's lips. Spike let him smoke it, then handed him another, then another, his worry over Xander's quietness overwhelming his fear of Xander starting to smoke. Xander finally looked up at him, eyes burning bright with pain.

"It'll never be over, will it? I'll always be fucked up. Gods, no wonder you fell in love with me, must remind you of Drusilla, just as insane as her." The bitterness of his voice destroyed Spike.

Spike immediately sat next to Xander, stifling his pain as Xander automatically flinched away for a moment. He pulled Xander to him, ignoring the tenseness of Xander's body. He turned and grasped Xander's face in his hands, forcing his love to meet his eyes.

"Listen to me and listen well. You are not fucked up, there is nothing wrong with you. You are strong and pure and brave and that's why I love you. You are NOTHING like Drusilla." Spike watched as Xander just shook his head, ignoring all that Spike said. He let out a low growl then moved his hands to Xander's shoulders, unwittingly beginning to shake him.

"Do you remember how much I loved Dru, do you?" Spike paused until Xander realised that he was to answer, that it wasn't a rhetorical question.

"Yes," came the quiet response, Xander's voice still dead.

"Right, then. I never loved her like I love you." Spike swallowed hard then let out a long breath. "You have no idea what you do for me. What you've done for me, what you will always do for me. You take the best of what I was when I was William and the best of what I am as Spike and you make them one, you make me whole. You let me feel what it must be like to stand in the sun again. You've given me back life. Not an eternal unlife of darkness and pain, but a life. You've given me a reason to continue. Bloody hell, I don't even care about the chip anymore, do you realise that? I don't care, I'm glad. It gave me you, it gave me you." Spike let out another deep breath, trying desperately to pull Xander into him.

Xander finally locked eyes with Spike, feeling like he was coming back to himself, feeling the love and pain mingling in Spike's embrace. He let out his own deep sigh and suddenly relaxed, trusting all his weight to Spike's firm embrace, letting himself feel secure, feel loved, listening, truly listening to what Spike was saying.

"So, you don't think I'm nuts?" The question was nearly indiscernible as muffled as Xander's voice was with his head buried in Spike's shirt.

Spike grinned at that, relief spreading through him. "Now, didn't say that, did I? Just not nuts like that, you are sleeping with a vampire after all." He let out a yelp as Xander suddenly bit him through his shirt. "Not fair, can't bite back."

"Poor baby, I feel so bad for you," Xander murmured as he moved to rest his head on Spike's shoulder. "So, think maybe I should talk to somebody about all this shit?" Spike had been mentioning that maybe Xander should find a counsellor for months, but had grown more insistent recently.

"Yes, I do. Doesn't mean you're weak or anything, just, there's some things I just can't help you with, I mean, can't really rip your dreams to shreds, can I?" Spike rubbed his hands soothingly over Xander's back, hope growing in him. Xander had been flatly refusing all such suggestions. Spike hated going to anyone for help, but he was nothing if not realistic. This was beyond him. Xander's nightmares were becoming more and more violent and something had to be done.

"Will you come with me?" Xander sighed as he leaned back, hating this, hating the drama, wishing it would all just end.

"Of course, pet, anything for you, remember?" Spike forced himself to remain calm, forced himself to sit still instead of rushing Xander out the door before he changed his mind.

"'K then, we'll call Giles in the morning, sure he'll know someone." Xander felt a weight begin to lift, felt some light come back in the darkness. The ceaseless questioning from the various lawyers had battered at his defences until he felt there was nothing left, nothing keeping him for falling straight into the darkness that had always surrounded him. After they left, he had merely sat there, falling deeper and deeper into himself, the familiar and hated pulling away. He couldn't stop, couldn't keep from the descent. He knew, however, that this time, this time, there would be someone to pick him up, a reason to come back. And when he heard Spike's words, when he finally believed that Spike truly thought he was sane, thought he was pure, then, then he knew that he would come back. He let out another sigh, it would be hard, but it would be worth it.

"I'm tired, it'll be a long day tomorrow, let's go get some sleep." Xander stood and then reached out a hand, pulling Spike after him down the hall.

---

The judge glared down from the bench, the distaste on his face plain. He listened as the prosecutor asked for the maximum penalty, citing the long history of abuse and the heinous nature of the crime, stressing that Xander was probably only alive due to his quick thinking in hitting the alarm. The defence attorney then responded, attempting to raise sympathy for his client by explaining his history of alcoholism and his own past of abuse, stating that Xander's mother would probably now be forced to go on welfare, would lose her home as she had no marketable skills and wouldn't be able to work. The judge had seemed unimpressed. He shuffled some papers in his hands and then looked back down.

"Well, Mr. Harris, do you have anything to say to this court?" The contempt was clear in the deep voice.

Spike watched as Xander's father rose, feeling Xander's fingers clenching deep into his hand. Xander was focused on the clock, watching the seconds tick past. Every second was one second closer to the end, to the time when it would finally, finally be over. Xander had slept soundly the night before, in no small part due to Xander finally agreeing to take a sleeping pill. They both knew it was the first step, the first acknowledgement that this was something beyond them both. Spike squeezed back as Xander's father began to speak.

"Your Honour, I'm, well, I just want to say that I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I ever did anything to hurt my son, I love him. It's just, I was drinking so much, didn't really know what I was doing and when I saw him with that, that man, the one who twisted him like that, I just snapped, couldn't think straight, never really meant to hurt him." His father sat down then, looking down at his hands, trying to appear repentant.

Xander just glared over. Even now, the bastard couldn't even apologise, wouldn't take any responsibility for what he had done. He glanced at his mother, sitting there, crying, trying to wring an ounce of pity out for the beast she chose to marry. He supposed he should feel sorry for her, but he didn't. She made her choice. Now she would live with it.

The judge just looked down, staring at Xander's father. "Over the last few weeks, I have had the chance to review the testimony and evidence in this case at length. Additionally, I have before me a copy of the Victim Impact Statement filed by the prosecutor that clearly outlines the continuing effects, both physical and mental, of Defendant's treatment of his son. Mr. Harris, it was only your son's own actions that kept you from succeeding in killing him. Your apology here was remarkable for the lack of any admission of guilt or culpability. From what I've seen and heard, that man you referred to is the only one who has shown your son any kind of care or consideration. The fact that your child has managed to maintain any kind of normal life is a testimony to his own strength and clearly not due to anything his family has done for him. I must say that the evidence presented makes it clear that the only appropriate punishment is the maximum penalty available to me. I hereby sentence you to life in prison with no possibility of parole, with confinement in a maximum security prison, sentence to begin immediately. Defendant is remanded to state's custody. Court dismissed."

Xander looked up in a daze as the prosecutor came over to shake his hand. It was over, his father was going to be locked away forever. He was dimly aware that the rest of the gang had gathered around him, unsure of how to react. He glanced down and caught Willow's eye, seeing the tears streaming down her face. He reached out and caught her in a firm embrace.

"Wills, please, don't cry, it's over, it's all over, everything will be fine, I'll be fine." He vaguely heard Buffy squaring off with his mother, registered the sound of a slap, closed his eyes, hoping it wasn't Buffy taking his mother's head off, then heard the bailiff dragging his mother out the courtroom doors. He ignored it all, trying to comfort his oldest friend.

"Xander, I'm so sorry, I should have stopped it, I would have, you should have told me, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you," Willow hated herself for breaking down, hated forcing Xander to comfort someone else when they should be comforting him. She pulled away and turned into Tara's waiting arms. "I'll make it up to you, I'll make it up to you."

Xander just rubbed her back for a moment before Spike gently tugged Xander away, anxious to get out of this hated place. They walked into the hallway, not speaking, not touching, just walking side by side out the side entrance.

"That's it, we are never coming back here," Xander sighed as they finally pulled away, Spike carefully tucked under a blanket in the back seat.

"Don't know about that, pet, did you look at the windshield?" Spike asked, a hint of a smile in his voice for the first time in days.

"Oh, bloody fucking hell," Xander groaned out, seeing the parking ticket. "Fine, we'll just mail it in, it's only an extra twenty bucks."

They both began to laugh as they turned onto the road for home.

---

"G, G, Giles," Tara managed to stutter out as she walked over to him at the counter in the Magic Box.

"Yes, Tara," Giles looked up, startled to hear Tara call his name. No matter how much they tried to reassure Tara that she was a part of their family, she was still horribly shy around them, preferring to let Willow be the bold one.

"Um, it's just, well, there's something wrong with Willow and, well, I don't know what to do." Tara stood there wringing her hands and biting her lower lip.

Giles eyes grew wide and he removed his glasses, automatically polishing them. Whatever it was, it must be quite serious for Tara to have approached him directly this way. "What is it, how, how is she acting?" He moved around from behind the counter, drawing closer to Tara.

"She's just, she's obsessed, she has been since Xander was in the hospital, but, since the sentencing last month, it's gotten worse, she's got all these really, really ancient spell books and she just keeps reading them. She's been cutting classes and she hasn't been sleeping and she hasn't been eating and she won't tell me what she's looking for and I'm, I'm really, really scared." Tara looked up at that, taking Giles' breath away. The pure look of fear there was almost palpable.

"Where is she now?" He bustled about, gathering together his car keys, a few spell books, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"In, in our room, I didn't mean to interrupt, but, well she hasn't moved in two days. Just keeps reading and muttering," Tara practically whispered as she followed Giles out the door. They headed straight for Giles' car and he took off for the dorm, heart sinking. He had expected something like this, for one of them to snap. He honestly had expected it to be Spike, had expected a drunken vampire on his doorstep demanding some amateur brain surgery to remove the chip so that Spike could track the bastard down in prison and kill him then kill Xander's mother. But Xander and Spike seemed to be doing better. He had arranged for them to meet with a particularly open minded therapist who had some experience with supernatural beings. They went religiously twice a week and Xander seemed to be doing well. Buffy had channelled her rage into patrol and Sunnydale was as safe as it had ever been. Willow, Willow had been strangely absent, but he had simply chalked it up to all her responsibilities as school. He cursed himself for not noticing something amiss sooner.

Tara led him into their room and Giles stopped, stunned. Tara had, if anything, downplayed the seriousness of the situation. The room was dark, the only light being the candles around the room. It was almost impossible to walk as practically ever surface was covered by books of all shapes and sizes. Paper was strewn everywhere and the only indication that there was anyone in the room was the sliver of red hair barely visible through the wall of books.

"Willow, Giles is here, came to visit you, you haven't seen him in a few days, I, I thought it would be nice." Tara gently made her way through the books and placed a hand on Willow's cheek. Willow smiled slightly, turning her head to absently place a kiss on Tara's palm.

"Hey, Giles," Willow called out, still not looking up.

"Willow, Willow, what, what is all this?" Giles was unable to keep the shock from his voice as he reached out to move a stack of books out of the way so that he could sit and see Willow's face. Her head started up as his hands settled on a stack and a hand clamped onto his forearm.

"Don't move those, I haven't gone back through those yet, you'll ruin it, they're in order."

Giles just stared at Willow, the frantic tone to her voice frankly terrifying. Gently, he reached out and pulled the book she was reading from her hands. Willow tried to tug back, but Giles was persistent, finally succeeding in getting away from the witch. He turned it around, curious as to what it could be. He caught his breath. It was an ancient spellbook, over 300 years old, containing spells for petrifaction.

"Willow, what, what are you looking for, Tara is quite concerned, and I must admit, so am I." He remained crouched down, trying to look in Willow's face. She was pale and gaunt, unkempt and, frankly, smelled. Nothing like the sprite he knew.

"I have to find it, there has to be something, I have to find it," Willow started as Tara sat behind her and pulled her close. "Have to do something, have to make it up to him." With that, she burst into tears. "Just let me look, please, I have to find it."

"Willow, calm down, we'll help you look, you just have to tell us what it is and we'll help." Tara rocked them both back and forth as Willow's sobbing increased. Giles just looked on, feeling completely helpless. The exhausted cries continued, Willow's body shaking, her lack of food and sleep overpowering her.

"Have to find a way to make him immortal, have to give that to him, have to keep them together, have to, all I can do now," the words were almost a chant, repeated over and over as they rocked. "All I can do, have to find it, has to be there."

Giles reached out, wrapping his arms around the witches, his heart breaking. "Willow, who, who do you have to make immortal? Why is it all you can do?"

"Xander, have to make it up to him, keep them together," the words trailed off as Willow finally collapsed, her body giving way. Tara pulled away as Giles carefully lifted Willow, stunned again by how light she was. He placed her on the bed where Tara immediately sat next to her and began to rub her hands along Willow's arms.

"She's trying to make Xander immortal, I should have known," Tara felt tears welling up in her own eyes.

Giles just nodded, looking at the small frame, which was still twitching, even in sleep. "Do you know why?" He began to move around the room, carefully organising Willow's notes.

"She blames herself for not seeing what, what happened before, she thinks she should have stopped it. She keeps saying she has to keep them together. I think," Tara looked up, catching Giles' gaze. "I think she's trying to find a way to make Xander immortal so that he can be with Spike forever."

Giles sat down heavily. He had never expected this. Xander himself had shown a curious interest in research ever since he and Spike had been together. Giles, while thrilled, hadn't really questioned why. It made sense, however. Spike couldn't turn Xander and it was clear that the two were obsessed with one another. Giles took off his glasses yet again, routinely reaching to polish them. Not obsessed. Loved one another. It was still difficult for him to believe that a vampire could truly love anyone, especially a human. But, if he was honest, it was plain that Spike did love Xander. And Xander loved Spike. And it must be difficult, at best, to know that while Spike had at least the chance to love eternally, Xander did not.

Tara watched Willow as she slept, running a soothing hand along Willow's forehead as her lover tossed and turned. At least she was sleeping, that was good. She just wished that Willow had told her what she was searching for sooner so that she could have helped. She may not have known Xander for very long, but he was Willow's best friend and Willow loved him and that meant Tara loved him too. Besides, they had all accepted her after the incident with her family and that meant more to her than she had let them know.

"We have to help her," Tara began.

"Of course, I'll call the infirmary, she really should be looked over." Giles reached out, searching for the phone.

"That's not what I mean," Tara leaned over, pulling the phone from Giles' hand. "We have to help her look. There has to be some way, something we can do. Xander deserves this, deserves our help."

Giles stared up at Tara, seeing the determination there. For as quiet as she was, when her mind was made up, she was as immovable as stone. He nodded, knowing it was true. Xander deserved this, deserved any chance for happiness he could have. Besides, maybe then the guilt would fade, at least enough to let him sleep without a large glass of Scotch each night, without going over all the signs that he had ignored, without dreaming of what could have happened if Spike hadn't found Xander, if a soulless vampire hadn't protected Xander, if a demon hadn't seen what they all ignored. He nodded again, then turned back to the books.

"Right, should get started, this could take a long time. Do you have any idea what these piles mean?"

Tara just smiled and moved to join him on the floor. "No, for once she wasn't babbling all about her grand plan. Maybe we should wait until she wakes up?"

"No, I would like to at least read her notes, see what she's reviewed to this point, determine the best way to divide the research, see if there's anything she may have missed."

Their heads bent down and they started to work, moving the books far enough to make room for them both in the circle.

Several months later

"Coming, coming, hold onto your horses," Xander yelled as he padded out to the front door, wondering which one of them it was. It could only be one of the gang as they were the only ones who had the code to the gate. He glanced up at the monitor next to the door, a little surprised to see that it was Giles, Willow and Tara, carrying large bags and some kind of basket.

"Hey guys, to what do we owe the honour, sorry for the mess, we're going away tomorrow, just packing, you know." Xander automatically leaned down to kiss Willow and Tara as they came in the door.

"Going away, where are you going?" Willow asked, eyes narrowing a bit.

"Not quite sure, Spike won't say." Xander grinned slightly. Their two year anniversary was the next day and Spike had turned into cryptic guy, refusing to give any hint as to where they were going. When Xander asked what he should pack, Spike handed him a list. Of course, it was a list of sex toys and Xander had hit him over the head with the paper.

"Where is the bleached wonder, need to talk to both of you," Willow continued, voice firm.

"Asleep, it is noon, you did notice that, you know, sun high in the sky, yellow shiny thing, turns vampires into dust?" Xander followed them into the dining room, watching as Tara began setting out various small bowls and what looked like a gong.

"Xander, do you, do you think, perhaps, that you could, could wake him?" Giles asked, looking even more intent than usual.

"Um, guys, is everything fine, you're, well, I'm getting this weird vibe, there's not another apocalypse or something is there?" Xander was worried, whatever this was, it didn't look good.

"No, goddess, no, nothing like that, just, have something I want to tell you, and I want to tell you both at the same time. Actually, it's good news, well, I think it's good news and I think you will think it's good news, and I know Spike will think it's good news, so," Willow paused to suck down a breath, barely able to contain her excitement.

Xander jumped into the pause, recognising the beginnings of full Willow babble coming on. "Wills, might want to consider decaf. If it's that important, I'll go get him." He set off down the hall, shaking his head slightly in fond amusement. He and Willow were finally back to near normal, though Willow had been conspicuously absent the last few months, saying she was working on a big spell. Working on a big spell with Tara at that and Xander knew what that meant. He didn't mind, he was just happy to see her happy.

"Yo, blondie, time to get up, visitors." He belted Spike on the ass with a pillow, taking the chance to cop a feel since he was in the vicinity.

Spike reached back and yanked Xander down onto the bed with him, nuzzling Xander's neck. "Hmm, those lads from Stud finally get here, bout time, service these days is slipping."

Xander laughed and slapped Spike's hands away from him. "No, they were here earlier, but you looked so tired I kept them all for myself. Seriously, though, Giles, Willow and Tara are here and Willow looks like she's about to burst, she's so excited and whatever it is they want to tell us both, so get your sexy undead ass out of bed and into some clothes."

"No, wanna sleep," Spike pouted, even while throwing on his jeans and black T-shirt.

"Tough shit, look once they're gone I'll come back to bed with you, deal?" Xander followed Spike down the hall, hands on Spike's waist.

"Deal, do I get something special if I'm nice to the Watcher?"

"Hmm, yes, but I get to pick what it is. And I get to decide if you were nice."

They entered the dining room and Spike plopped down next to Giles.

"So, what's so important the whelp woke me up in the middle of the day, and not for a shag I might add, rude, that." Spike just smirked as the blush moved its way up Giles' neck.

"Why don't I let Willow tell you," Giles replied, eyeing the witch with a practised eye. She was about to burst and it was best to simply stay out of the way.

"Well, I wanted to do something to apologise to Xander, to make up for him for all the, the stuff and, well, the only thing I could think of was to find a way to make him immortal so that you guys could be together forever, really. I looked and looked and couldn't find anything, then Tara and Giles started to help and they were a lot of help and I should have asked sooner and Tara, I'm so sorry I scared you like that, I didn't mean to, and I know you know I didn't, but I'm still sorry. But we couldn't find a way to make you immortal, I'm sorry, then Giles had an idea and we researched that, and, and we found something that will work pretty much the same way. It's a binding spell and as long as one of you is alive the other is alive and it'll stop Xander from ageing so he'll always be the way he is now, his body won't age, but you can still get hurt, Alexander Lavelle Harris, and don't think you can't. And Spike can still get staked or go out in the sun or any of the other things that could kill him. But you would be together, for as long as you could keep each other alive and I know tomorrow is your anniversary and I want to do this for you, so happy anniversary." Willow sucked in a huge breath and looked at them, pride shining out her eyes.

Spike and Xander just gaped at her, trying to make sense of all she said. Surprisingly, it was Xander who came to his senses first.

"Wait, you found a spell that will make me immortal, but not really, and you want to do it for our anniversary, as a present to say you're sorry for all the other, the other stuff?" As best as he could make out, that was the gist of what Willow had said.

"Very succinct Xander, Willow you might want to consider phrasing things that way in the future," came Giles' dry response.

Spike turned to him, mouth still slightly open. "You know about this, Watcher, and you approve?" He stood quickly, beginning to pace. "A binding spell, should work that, should have thought of that myself, going bloody senile in my old age." The pace quickened as Spike quickly reviewed all he had ever learned of binding spells. He whirled back and stalked quickly to lean over Giles.

"Are you sure there are no catches, nothing like, oh, I don't know, a happiness clause, or us both growing antlers or the like?" Spike battled down the happiness growing in him. A binding spell. So simple, so elegant, so perfect. He knew the catch. The spell was simple. Bind the two beings together, then, when one died, the other instantly died as well. It didn't mater to him, he would die the second Xander did anyway, just a matter of staking himself or waiting for the sun. This would save him the effort.

"Quite sure. We found the spell a month ago and have been checking ever since. Willow was quite right. The spell will, well, it will, bind you together so that your existences are permanently intertwined. When one dies, the other dies. Until then, however, you both remain as you are when the spell is cast. For Xander, that means that he will never age, never change from his appearance as it is now. His body can still get sick, but he won't get any of the diseases associated with old age. However, that means, Spike, that you can never, never, well, the chip will never come out. It will be permanent." Giles looked down at that. This was the sticking point. Willow had been ecstatic when she found the spell, sure it was the solution. They had checked every aspect of the spell, calling all of Giles' contacts, making sure there were no hidden defects. There was nothing, nothing other than this. If they did this, Spike would have to agree to keep the chip.

"That's it, mate, you sure. No problem, that, let's get on with it." Spike was bouncing on his feet, thrilled.

"Spike, seriously, are you sure, um, Spike, come on, let's talk about this," Xander dragged Spike into the kitchen, still in shock from the news. He could be with Spike forever, really forever. It was all he wanted and now he could do it. But not if Spike had to keep the chip. He knew how much Spike hated the chip and he would never, ever ask Spike to keep it forever.

"Xander, bloody hell, what's there to talk about, this is perfect, can't believe I didn't think of it. Bugger." Spike tugged at Xander's hands, anxious to get started.

"Spike, no, stop it. Seriously, Spike, is this what you want, really, think about this, this is a big deal. You'll always have the chip, and, I, I would never ask you to do that, okay? I wouldn't want to make you have that forever, don't want you hating it, hating me, three hundred years from now. We don't have to do this, I won't be mad," Xander started, only to find himself pinned to the kitchen wall.

"What, don't you want to, afraid you'll get tired of me, is that it?" Spike tried to sound furious, but only came out sounding desperate. **He doesn't want this, doesn't want me, that was his out, he knew he would leave, leave me, doesn't want me**

Xander reached up and traced a finger along Spike's lips, clearly seeing the insecurity in Spike's eyes. "No, afraid you'll get tired of me. Spike, if we do this, you'll never feed off a human again, do you understand that? I would never ask you to give that up, not just for me." He stared into Spike's eyes, hardly daring to imagine Spike's response. To have what he wanted more than anything in the world so close and not be able to take it was pure torture, but he would never force this on Spike. He closed his eyes slowly, waiting for the inevitable.

Spike just threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, pet, now I remember why I put up with you." Spike tilted Xander's head up and kissed him gently on the lips. "This was supposed to be a surprise for you for our anniversary, but, hell, now seems like the perfect time. My gift to us this year is simple. I'm going to give up trying to have the chip removed." He watched as Xander's eyes grew wide.

"You, you're serious," Xander whispered, leaning in close to smell along Spike's neck. He had discovered that whenever Spike was serious about something, he gave off a particular scent that even Xander could recognise. He inhaled deeply, the pungent odour of truth crashing into him. "You are serious, when, when did you decide this?" His knees felt weak as the truth sank in. Spike wanted this, was going to give it up anyway, no sacrifice, nothing to taint their future. Just them, forever.

"Don't know really, few months ago. I just, didn't want to ever even be tempted again, didn't want to do anything you would hate. Thought our anniversary would be the perfect time to tell you. Besides, got me out of shopping, didn't it?" The familiar sarcasm, the beloved quirk of an eyebrow.

"So, you won't hold it against me a millennium or so from now," Xander knew he had an idiotic look on his face, but he couldn't help it. This was too good, too right.

"Well, not that, might hold other things against you though," Spike started, then pulled back to move to the entrance to the dining room.

"Oi, Watcher, when you saw we stay the way we are now, you do mean that we won't age and all that shit, not that we can't, you know, have physical reactions that allow us to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh." Spike smirked at the sudden blushes on the faces at the table, knowing full well that, in this instance, the euphemism was filthier than bluntness could ever be. He watched in delight as Giles began to furiously polish his glasses.

"No, no, that's not it, you just won't age. Your bodies will still react to, er, stimulus, as usual," Giles managed to choke out as Xander wrapped his arms around Spike's waist.

"Yeah, and you can still get hurt and you'll heal like usual. That means no playing in traffic, Xander. You can still get sick and die like that. Or hit by a bus. Or a plane crash. Or choke to death, or," Willow added helpfully, smiling up at Xander.

"Thanks there, Wills, those are all such happy thoughts." Xander yanked Spike back into the kitchen. "So, we gonna do this thing?"

"We gonna do this thing," Spike replied. They just stared at each other, then burst into laughter. It was too good to be true. This was it, forever. Always. Xander couldn't imagine anything better. They stumbled back into the dining room, still laughing, still thrilled.

"You sure there aren't any hidden secrets," Xander managed to ask when he regained his breath.

"Positive," Giles answered. "I take it you would like us to, to cast the spell."

"Fuck, yeah" came the practically shouted reply.

"Right. Then, all we need is some blood from each of you. Spike, you sit here, Xander you sit here," Willow grabbed them and pushed them down into two chairs in the middle of the table. Unwrapping a slim package, she handed Xander a knife. She put a small silver chalice in front of each of them. "Not a lot, just a few tablespoons."

Xander looked at Spike, then silently handed him the knife, turning his left arm over, baring the skin. Spike looked deep into his eyes, then slid the blade along the white line that only his vampire eyes could still see on Xander's arm. The blood welled out and Xander let it run into the chalice. Spike, in turn handed the knife back to Xander, baring his left arm. Xander leaned down, gently placed a kiss on the inside of Spike's wrist, then cut. Spike's blood quickly poured into the chalice.

"That's fine, enough from both of you," Willow's matter of fact voice called from next to them.

Spike reached over and licked Xander's wound clean, savouring the taste of the blood. The cut quickly stopped bleeding and Spike turned to cleaning his own cut.

"What now, how do we know it worked," Xander asked, fascinated by the preparations of the others.

"We cast the spell, if it works right, a brand will appear on the insides of your right wrists, now, be quiet, I have to concentrate," Willow answered.

Xander watched, intrigued, as Tara ground some herbs, dumping them into a bowl. Other herbs were added, then some kind of liquid that made a small puff of smoke rise from the bowl. The room quickly filled with the smell of something burning and various scents began to compete in the air. Willow began chanting, soon joined by Tara. Finally, Giles' voice joined them and the soft, lilting words began to grow stronger, more powerful. With one final call, Willow tossed the contents of the bowl over their heads. The potion drenched them and they started. They hissed as a burning began on their wrists, as the air in the room began to swirl. Suddenly, it was over, the pain ended and the room was clear.

Xander slowly placed his right arm on the table as Spike did the same. They turned them, palm up, then with a slight nod from Spike, looked down. There, right on the inside of each of their wrists, was the symbol for infinity, glowing gold in the light of the room. Xander let out a fierce cry of joy as Spike leapt up, swirling Willow off her feet and spinning her around the room.

"Always liked you, Red, always knew you were a right fine chit. Girlfriend's cute, too."

Xander leaned over and kissed Tara on the cheek, then threw his arms around Giles, enjoying the embarrassment of the other man.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, you have no idea, this is, you just don't know," Xander babbled. Forever, he could promise Spike forever. He turned and grabbed Willow from Spike's embrace.

"Wills, gods, Wills, thank you," he felt the tears well up, could sense them in Willow as well. "You didn't have to do this, you never had anything to make up to me, but thank you, just, it means everything," the words fell into her hair as he held her tight.

"Had to, for me, had to give you something to make up for what you lost," Willow sniffled out, thrilled it had worked. "Now you can't say I never did anything for you."

They both laughed at that, remaining locked in each other's arms for a moment. Then, Spike grabbed Xander and kissed him, hard, slamming him back into the wall. They became lost in each other, not noticing the rest gather their things, not hearing the quiet good-byes, enraptured in the taste of each other. Forever, they had forever. They would always be one. They could taste it in the other's mouth, more true even than the brands. Their tastes had altered, becoming richer, purer, more intense. They couldn't get enough. Forever wouldn't be enough.

---

"Spike, where are we going, please, tell me?" Xander tried yet again from the passenger's seat. Spike had insisted on driving as he was the only one who knew where they were going. Xander had tried everything he could think of to get Spike to tell him, but Spike hadn't cracked. Xander had briefly considered withholding sex, then realised that if Spike wasn't having sex, then HE wasn't having sex either and that was just not a good idea. So he had fallen back on being annoying. He figured another five minutes and he would start with "are we there yet, are we there yet." The classics never went out of style.

"Almost there, and don't even think about asking are we there yet," Spike growled out, shooting a glare over to Xander. Xander just stuck his tongue out, still thrilled. Everything looked different now. He had never realised just how much the fact that someday he was going to die and leave Spike had affected their lives. Now that it wasn't an issue, everything seemed clearer, brighter, better. The sex the night before had been unbelievable and that was the real reason Xander wanted to get to wherever it was they were going. He couldn't wait to see if it was a one-time experience or if this was how things were going to be from now on. He suspected it was the latter.

"Fine, spoil my fun." Xander went back to looking out the window, watching for signs along the road. That was always good too, read all the signs out loud. Very annoying. He saw the sign looming ahead.

"Right lane, exit for Monterey. . ." his voice trailed off as he realised they were taking the exit. "Monterey, we're going to Monterey, I've always wanted to come here."

Spike just nodded, concentrating on remembering the directions he had so stupidly not written down, sure he could remember them. After all, he had just been here thirty years or so before, so surely he would remember. He sighed in relief as he saw the turn he wanted. He glanced over quickly. Xander's eyes were wide, taking in the curving road and the spectacular views of the ocean. Spike followed the road for a few miles, Xander finally quiet, awed by the sights. He saw the sign he was looking for and pulled into the hotel, coming to a gentle stop. He leaned over, kissed Xander quickly, then hopped out. Xander followed him a few seconds later, eyes going wider as the hotel loomed over him.

"Spike, wow, this is, wow," Xander breathed out, the majestic hotel looming over him.

"It's something, I'll give you that, even I think it's impressive," Spike answered, dragging Xander inside, then quickly retrieving their keys, checking to make sure they were in the suite he requested. The bellhop followed with their luggage while the valet parked the Jeep. Xander just blindly followed Spike who seemed perfectly at home in the opulent walls. The bellhop threw the doors open and Xander gasped again when he saw the suite. It looked like something out of a magazine. Spike walked in, cast a look around, seeing that the heavy curtains were in place, then tipped the bellhop. He grinned when he saw Xander's face.

"So, I take it you like?"

Xander just nodded, "I like, I like a lot." He turned and grabbed Spike's hands, pulling him towards a door. "Think that's the bedroom, want to see that, sure it's nice too."

"Of course, luv, unless you want to go out on the balcony," Spike teased, stumbling after Xander.

"Balcony, later, bed now." They tumbled into the room, barely managing to kick the door shut.

---

Xander followed Spike down the path running along the top of the bluffs. After they managed to untangle themselves on the bed, Spike had insisted that they go for a walk. Xander had just nodded, agreeing quickly. A walk would be nice, in fact, if they went near the ocean, it would be perfect for what he had in mind for Spike's present. They had gotten dressed quickly, Spike insisting that Xander wear a thick sweater, "Can get really cold with the wind, luv, can't have you catching anything." Xander just rolled his eyes, realising that this was something he would have to get used to, that Spike would now be his usual over-possessive self for a long, long time. Xander dressed quickly, then grabbed his messenger bag, checking to make sure the box with Spike's present was still there.

Spike pulled Xander along behind him, carefully watching their footing. Rounding the corner, they came to the spot Spike had been heading for the entire time. Xander drew in a sharp breath as the vista unfolded in front of him. They stood on the edge of a huge cliff, a steep drop off directly in front of them. Below, sharp rocks jutted from the sea, rising steeply into the air. The waves crashed into them, tossing spray high into the air. Beyond that lay the ocean, stretching as far as the eye could see. The sky was clear and the moon shone, full and heavy, glistening in the waves, a silver path running across the water. The stars looked so close that Xander thought, for one second, they could reach up and touch them. It was the most amazing thing he had ever seen.

Spike moved behind Xander, wrapping his arms around his waist. "This is what I wanted you to see. Found this a long time ago with Dru. She used to dance here and listen to the stars. I used to watch her and think there could never be anything better. Found out I was wrong. Wanted you to see it, wanted to see you here, wanted you to know that this, this is how beautiful you are to me."

Xander nodded, drinking in the sight. Finally, he set his bag down and pulled Spike around, turning to face him. He leaned down and unzipped the bag, pulling the wooden box out, seeing the silver of the moonlight trace over the design.

"You gave me your present, now it's my turn to give you mine. Here." With that, he handed the box to Spike. Spike looked down, tilting his head slightly. He opened it slowly, seeing the knife resting in its bed of red velvet. He looked back up, waiting for Xander to continue.

"For all the pain the chip brought you, it gave you me. For all the pain the blade brought me, it gave me you. I never thought that anything good would ever happen in my life. I was wrong. Everything good has happened. You happened. I never thought I could have anything good. Now I have you, I have you forever. I don't need the blade anymore. You're willing to keep the chip forever. I'm willing to get rid of the blade forever. I don't need it. I have you." Xander stopped, looking deeply into Spike's eyes. "I don't need it, I will never need it again."

Spike nodded, unable to speak. He knew exactly what the blade represented, knew what Xander meant. Wordlessly, he removed it from the box and handed it to Xander. He leaned up, kissed him deeply then set the box down. He turned and stepped back, moving to give Xander room.

"William Patrick Jonathan Bredon, I love you. Forever."

"Alexander Lavelle Harris, I love you. Eternally."

Xander nodded, then reached his arm back. He threw as hard as he could, putting all his strength behind it. He threw high and true, sending the knife sailing into the deep. They watched as the blade sailed far, finally sinking into the sea, swallowed down into the deep blackness, forever cast aside, leaving only the two of them, the moonlight shining down, casting its glow upon their faces, bathing all about them in its silver light.

 

~Fin~