Something Rich and Strange

by
Tabaqui

7 Debt

Xander dragged himself, groaning, to work the next two days.  He wanted nothing more than to stay home with Spike, but he knew he couldn't.  On Wednesday he was actually secretly grateful that there'd been some sort of screw-up By them and not us, thank god  that made work almost impossible.  The required supplies were wrong - and not enough - and damaged for fuck's sake, and Manny was looking daggers at the delivery guys who could only shrug and shuffle around, unable to fix the problem themselves but bearing the brunt of  it.  Eventually - around eleven - Manny just threw his hands into the air and sent everyone home.   Xander stayed an extra hour, helping Manny get the right stuff organized for the next day, checking the site, getting the delivery guys packed up and out of there.  He felt Manny's frustration but relished the idea of being home with Spike instead.  Two more days until the weekend, so this would be a nice break.  He drove home, humming along with Aerosmith on the radio.  Once there he moved as quietly as he could, leaving his boots and tool belt by the door, walking barefoot to the bedroom.  Spike was curled into Xander's side of the bed, buried in covers, and Xander started to smile before he realized something wasn't quite...right.  Instead of the normal near-motionless figure Xander had gotten used to, Spike was twitching and writhing in his sleep, small sounds of unhappiness coming out of him.    Xander moved to the bed, crouching down next to him and reaching out hesitantly to stroke the tangled blond hair.

"Spike?" he whispered, and the vampire twisted away, giving voice to a moaning, keening cry that made the hair stand up on Xander's neck.  He smoothed the vampire's hair again, then moved his hand to Spike's shoulder, shaking him gently.

"Spike - wake up," he said, a little louder.  And then - a blur, pain - and Xander found himself rolling hard into the dresser, thud of his back and shoulder into the wood, sharp ache in his jaw.  Dazed, he looked up at Spike who was...  Where the hell is he?  Ok, what the fuck - I touched his shoulder,  he  jerked away - HIT me, then...   A sound caught his attention, and he scrambled up onto the bed and over, and saw Spike.  Tight against the wall, hands around his head, moaning in agony now.  Oh fuck, oh DAMNIT, that damn thing...  He hit me, having a nightmare - fucking thing...   Sorry, Spike, sorry, sorry, should have ...   Xander stopped himself from reaching out again, watching Spike.  The vampire was silent now, but still huddled - half asleep maybe.  He didn't seem to realize where he was.

"Spike?  Hey, Spike.  Wake up, ok?  You're safe...safe at home... "  Xander couldn't help himself - he reached out again, touching the bowed head, and Spike moved fast, away, scrabbling into the corner and getting trapped between the wall and the bed, panic wrenching a sound from him, inarticulate, terrified.  Spike's head rapped the wall sharply and he froze, eyes open finally, staring around him wildly.  "W-won't," he whispered, and then seemed to see Xander, and he frowned.

"Xan ..."

"Spike, wake up now - you're safe here - home, ok?  It's just you and me here, Spike - you hear me?  You awake?"  Xander didn't move, and Spike scrubbed his hands over his face, pushing them back through his disordered hair, head down for a minute, shaking.

"Come on, Spike, come back up here, let me warm you up," Xander said, and Spike looked at him - really looked this time, and finally, finally he moved, unfolding from his huddle and moving shakily up onto the bed.  Xander pulled the quilt free and wrapped it around them both, trapping the heat in with them, pulling Spike half into his lap and just holding him, stroking his back and murmuring softly to him.

"It's alright love, no one but us, won't let anything hurt you, it's alright, I've got you, just you and me love, safe, you're safe..."  Spike's arms were almost painfully tight around Xanders' ribs, his face in Xanders' neck and soft pants of breath still coming from him.  Xander felt the trembling body gradually still, and he kissed the messy hair, Spike's forehead; stroked his shoulders and back and hugged him tight.  Suddenly Spike jerked away, blue eyes frantic and wide.

"I hit you - Xander, fuck, I - "

"It's all right.  Didn't hurt much.  I startled you, it's ok..."  Xander soothed, but Spike was trying to get away from him, pushing him back.

"It's not all right!  Bloody hell, I could have - "

"You didn't.  You won't.  It's OK.  Spike - look at me!”  Xander managed to grab Spike's hands in one of his, put his other to the vampire's cheek, stilling him, making the blue eyes meet his own.  Spike's mouth trembled, then firmed, and he ducked his head.

"I could hurt you.  Xander, I can't - "

"It was just a nightmare, Spike.  You didn't do anything on purpose.  You have those a lot?"  Xander gently chaffed the chilled hands between his own, and Spike sighed and leaned his shoulder into Xander's chest, resting his head on the boy's shoulder.

"Sometimes.   They're just...just the soldiers, you know?"

"The Initiative?  I thought..."  Xander stopped and bit his lip, and Spike looked up at him.

"Thought what, pet?"  

"I...just thought...they did that, put that thing in you, and you escaped...    I... I'm just being stupid."  

"Xander - "  Spike sat up, looking straight into the mortal's eyes, frowning.  "You're not stupid.  Tell me."  Xander looked away, then sighed.  

"It's not like that - thing - isn't enough to give you nightmares, but I guess I just thought...that's all they did.  You know?  And...it's not, is it?"  Now Spike looked away, not willing to admit to exactly what had happened, not willing to admit how much the soldiers - the scientists - had scared him.  Still scared him.  Xander could see it in his eyes, in the rigid set of his shoulders.  Oh god, WHAT did they do to him, something awful, nothing scares him, but here he is having nightmares, damnit, DAMNIT...

"Fuck.  I should have known.  Bastards.  I'm gonna do something to Riley, I'm gonna..."

"No, Xander."  Spike took Xander's face gently in his hands, leaned in and kissed him, lingeringly.  

"Anything done to those fuckin' bastards is done by me, right?  You don't get your hands dirty with them, not ever.  Not you."  They kissed again, and Xander hugged him close.  

Fuck that, Harris.  We'll settle 'em, you'll see   The hyena growled in agreement, and Xander had to fight the urge to laugh aloud.  He wondered if everyone had multiple personalities urging them to homicide.

"What're you doin' home, anyway?   It's not that bloody late, is it?"

"Screw up at the site - delivery all wrong and we couldn't do any work, so Manny sent us home.  Which is good, because I get to get back in bed with this sexy blonde..."  Xander pushed Spike flat, kissing him, neck and chest and shoulders, and Spike pulled at his clothes, trying to strip him.

"Get 'em off, pet, gonna fuck you..."  Xander flung the quilt away and stripped, letting Spike take control, letting him vent his stress with kisses and bites, long licks and strong, mobile hands.  Despite his initial frenzy, Spike entered Xander in a slow, controlled glide, and then simply lay over him, rocking slowly, kissing him again and again.  They lay in near silence, the only sounds panting breaths, small sighs, low moans of pleasure.  

Ohhh, want this forever, want him forever...no more nightmares, I'll fix that, I will...

"Sspike, love you..."  Xander whispered, and the vampire gasped, surging against him, hands burrowed under his shoulders and holding him like the most precious of things.

"Love you, pet, love you..."  Xander felt himself trembling on the edge of orgasm, nearly there, and he turned his head, exposing his throat, silently urging Spike to take him.  Spike made a low sound, desperate need, and he leaned down and let the demon out.   The fangs slid effortlessly home in Xander's neck and Xander shuddered, writhing.    As Spike took the first sip of his blood Xander arched into silent, trembling orgasm, gasping, pulling Spike as close as he could.  Spike drank, small mouthfuls, two and then three and then he pulled away, gliding his tongue over the marks, and Xander whimpered.  A hazy thought swam through his brain, and he nuzzled in close to Spike - kissed and then bit gently on the vampire's neck - bit harder when he felt Spike shiver, and then hard as he could, tasting Spike's skin and... blood, that's blood, oh   Spike was coming, thrusting into him, calling his name in a broken voice.   Gradually, they were still again, and Xander felt as if he'd run a marathon.  His whole body tingled, and he was pleasantly limp.  He licked his lips, tasting metal and salt and...something rich, delicious.

"Spike!"

"Hrmmm?  Xan, what?"  Spike mumbled, drowsy and unmoving.

"I bit you!"

"Know that, love.  Was good."  Xander pushed at him, making him lean up, and Spike looked down at him, eyes half-shut.   "What, pet?"

"I mean, there's blood - I drew blood."

"Yeah?  You - ok with it?  I mean, wasn't too bad, was it?"  Xander ran his tongue over his lips, then he grinned.  

"Nope.  It was - great.  Tingly.  Tasted...good.   Huh.  Never thought I'd say that.   I didn't hurt you, did I?"  Xander eyed the bite - messier then what Spike had done to him, slightly swollen.   It looked sore.

"No worries, pet.  Had lots worse in the throes of passion.  It was just right."  Spike dipped his head down and licked over his own mark on Xander's shoulder, and Xander shivered.  It was like lightning and fire going through him, sharp and hot, shivery.  It made arousal stir in him, and a fierce want.  He tightened his arms around Spike and they both lay there, unwilling to move.  Spike gradually fell asleep again, it being the middle of his night, and Xander shifted him a little and managed to get the quilt up over the both of them.  Then he, too, drifted - dozing on and off, waking again and again to kiss or caress the silken, milky skin.  Love, this is love, love him. ..how can he love me?  Don't care how... just want him, need him...don't care...  I'll take what he'll give me, for however long...don't care...

Xander drifted for a couple of hours, but eventually he had to get up and decided to take a shower.  Afterwards, he dressed in faded jeans and an old, holey sweater.  He looked at Spike, lying loosely curled in the bed, and reached out and smoothed the pale hair with one hand.  Then he carefully took the blue jay feather from its place in the edge of the mirror over the dresser.  It was tucked in just above the picture of Spike that Drusilla had taken, and Xander touched the photo, smiling softly.  Then he slipped out of the bedroom and through the kitchen, and went outside.  The sun was hovering a hand-span above the sea,  the light thick and still, a bloody amber.  Xander hesitated, then walked down the steps and stood in the grass.  He looked at the feather, and then shut his eyes, taking a deep breath.  He pictured Jack in his mind; mop of black hair, coat of velvet or leaves or denim - wicked smile, eyes like coals.  Jack.  I need you.  You said you'd come whenever I called - I'm calling.  Calling in the debt.  Jack Green ...  The feather seemed to tremble in his fingers and he opened his eyes.  A sudden wind - cool, salt-tanged - gusted up from the west and straight into Xander's face.  The feather spun free of his fingers and flew up, corkscrewing higher and higher until it seemed to wink out of sight in the darkening sky.  The wind ebbed - faded away altogether - and Xander shivered.  Jack was coming.

He went back inside to find Spike just coming out of the bedroom, naked, looking slightly apprehensive.  

"Hey, Spike."

"Xander...been outside?"  Spike came over to him and kissed him, hands on Xander's hips.

"Yeah - it's nice out.  You hungry?"  Spike nodded - kissed him again.

"Gonna take a shower, pet."

"Ok.  I'm gonna make some...spaghetti or something.  Won't take long ."

"Hmmmm."  Spike smiled, burrowing into Xander's neck for a moment, taking a deep breath.  

"You smell nice."  He broke away and headed for the bathroom, and Xander watched him walk out, making the appropriate wolf-whistle.  Spike laughed.

By the time Spike was done showering, Xander had sauce heated on the stove and the pasta boiling.  A mug-full of blood sat in the microwave, ready to be heated.  He lit the big candle they had on the kitchen table and leaned against the counter, watching the pasta.  He felt it again - that strange little tingle.  Jack.  Wonder when he'll get here.   Xander stirred the pasta and got a glass of milk.  Tonight - movies, or maybe there was a match on the TV that Spike wanted to watch.  Or maybe...they would talk.  Or not.   Xander didn't want to tell Spike what he was planning.

What're the odds this'll work, Harris?  You have to tell him.

Don't want to.   I want to talk to Jack first

Not nice, Harris.

Xander turned the radio on, to drown out the soldier, and listened to piano and horns and the rich voice he was slowly coming to recognize - Louis Armstrong.  

"Give me your lips for just a moment... And my imagination will make that moment live ...

Give me what you alone can give... A kiss to build a dream on..."

Xander was starting to like this music.  It was all Manny ever played, these soft songs and tunes from the 'war years' as he called them, and they lent a certain calm to the site that could sometimes be utter chaos.  Xander stirred the pasta again and decided it was done.  He hunted out the lid to the pot and carefully dumped the water, only spilling a little pasta down the drain

"There has to be a better way," Xander muttered.  He was sure there was, he just couldn't remember what his mom had done.  Hanging out in the kitchen when she had done her sporadic cooking had not been a good idea.

"Better way for what, pet?" Spikes voice, sand and honey, and Xander flashed him a quick smile.  

"Oh, this whole draining thing.  I'm sure there's a better way but, you know, I don't come from a long line of chefs or anything."  

" 'Course there's a better way, love. " Spike said, and shot Xander a truly lascivious look, flashing his fangs.  Xander made an exaggerated 'ha ha' laugh, and  Spike shrugged, grinning, passing  through to the living room for his cigarettes.  He'd only pulled on his jeans, and there were still drops of water glittering on his back.  Xander watched him walk past Ah, fuck.  How m'I supposed to concentrate on food when I've got THAT sitting across from me?

"Can't help you, pet.  Never done much cooking, me."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Xander called after him.  He put the pasta pot back on the stove, turned the burners off and got out plates.  He heard Spike's Zippo flick open, and watched through the pass through as he lit the half-dozen candles they kept in the living room.   Then Spike lit his cigarette and came back, trailing smoke, to start his blood heating while Xander got a plateful of food and sat down.  Then stood back up to grab bread and butter and his milk.  After a minute Spike joined him, and they ate and drank in companionable silence, listening to Les Brown and Duke Ellington, Buddy Holly and June Christy.  Spike drank his human blood - he tended to space six or so pints out during the course of the day -  but then heated up a cupful of the stuff from the butchers to pour over his spaghetti.   Xander just watched in amusement as he sucked up noodles, making a mess.

"Jeez, you're not so much 'Creature of the Night' as 'Pig of the Night'.  Have a paper towel."  Spike snatched the towel and wiped at his mouth, then reached over and took Xander's bread-and-butter.

"Hey!"

"That's what you get for makin' derogatory comments about my oral skills."  Spike looked up at him from under long lashes, eyebrow cocked, and Xander choked a little on his mouthful.  He knew exactly what 'oral skills' Spike was alluding to.

"Speaking of 'oral skills'..."

"Yeah, love ?"  Spike murmured, and Xander felt his cock stirring .  How does he do that, drop his voice down so low, make it so...damn...hot.

"Uhhh..."  Spike smirked at him, and Xander sat bolt upright as he felt a lean, wriggling foot insinuate itself into his crotch and stroke his growing erection.

"You were sayin' somethin', Xanderrr,?" Spike purred, and Xander closed his eyes, taking a long breath.  

"Mmmm..."  Spike's other foot was suddenly there, rubbing and kneading in concert with the first, and Xander let his fork clatter to the plate and just slumped back in his chair.  No point in trying to talk...

Xander was just beginning to wonder - in a hazy, half-coherent way - about how to get his jeans off without losing contact with Spike when the feet pulled away.  Xander opened his eyes to see Spike sitting straight up, looking towards the door.

"Wha - "

"Somebody's here."  Xander's heart skipped in his chest, and he sat up as well, his mouth going dry and his erection subsiding unhappily.

"Do you know - who it is?"  Spike cocked his head to the side, listening, then relaxed fractionally.

"Watcher and Red and the blonde.  Red's...cryin'."  Xander looked at him and Spike nodded, pushing back his chair.  "Damn," Xander muttered, getting up as well, and Spike caught his arm, pulling him close for a quick kiss.  

"I'll finish with you later," he murmured, and Xander snagged him back for one more kiss, deep and hard, before turning to the front door.  Just as he reached it, someone knocked, and Xander could hear Giles' voice, saying something.  He undid the chain and opened the door, and Giles, Willow and Tara looked in at him; Willow pale and teary, Tara just pale, and Giles thin-lipped in anger or fear.

"Willow - you ok?"  Xander stepped back, ushering them in, and saw Spike in the doorway of the living room Thank god he grabbed a shirt cigarette in his mouth, fingers dipping into his jeans for his lighter.  Willow and Tara sat on the couch, huddled together, and Giles stood near the bookshelves, arms folded, looking around at the candle-lit room with an expression of bafflement.  Xander perched on the couch arm.

"Xander!  What happened to your face!"  Willow's eyes were huge and she reached towards his jaw.

"Huh?"  Spike - nightmare - remember?  Must have bruised  "Oh - I kinda forgot.  New kid on the site, he got a little clumsy with a board.  No big deal.  Now tell me Willow - what's the matter?  What's happened?"

"It's Oz - "  Willow started, voice shaky, just as Giles said, "Don't light that in here, Spike."  Xander looked over at Spike, who lit his cigarette and snapped his Zippo shut, glaring at Giles.  

"Giles," Xander said, turning to the older man calm, stay calm  "this is my house.  He can smoke in here if he likes." Giles stared at him, eyes narrowing slightly behind his glasses, and then he looked away.

"Very well."

"Go on Willow, what about Oz.  Is he back?"

"He - he came back yesterday.  We were up all night talking, Xander, just - talking, and...and he's been in Tibet, he met these monks and they showed him - showed him how to control the wolf.  It was wonderful, Xander!  We were outside under the full moon and he wasn't going all grrr and everything.  

B-but then, today at school he - "  Willow stopped, gulping, and Xander felt ice in his belly.  

"He what, Wills?  Tell me."  Xander slid off the couch and crouched at the girls' feet.  It was Tara who spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I-i-it was me.  He s-sssaw me and thought - I w-was W-willow, he said hhe could s-smell her,  and then he - ch-changed.  He told me to  r-rrun, and I did but he ch-chased me."  She swallowed, looking at Willow, who gripped her hand and nodded, rubbing at tear-streaked cheeks.

"I r-ran into this cl-cl-classroom and then these - ss-soldiers came - "

"Bloody hell, " from Spike, who started pacing.

"Soldiers?  The Initiative?  They grabbed Oz?"

"Th-they shot him w-with a d-dart gun - I t-t-tried to t-tell them - "

"It's ok, Tara, it's not your fault they didn't listen."  Willow took Tara's hand and squeezed it gently, then looked at Xander, her eyes wide and red-rimmed, terrified and angry.

"They just dragged him away, Xander!  And he isn't dangerous any more, he can control it, he showed me!  Riley told Buffy - one of the soldiers got killed last night by some big demon or something and they think it was Oz but it wasn't!  We were together all night, he was telling me about his trip - "

"Ok, Willow, it's ok.  I believe you if you say he didn't do it...where's Riley? "

"We don't know! " Willow wailed, and Tara clutched her hand.  "We've been driving around trying to find any of them - any of the soldiers.    Do you think he'll make them let Oz go?  I mean, once they see it's Oz?"  Willow's eyes were full of hope, but Xander shook his head

"We can't count on Riley for anything, Willow - he's one of them.   What about Buffy?"

"She is also trying to find Riley.  She was going to go on campus and see if any of the soldiers were about.  But they all seem to have - vanished, tonight."  Giles spoke up from behind him, and Xander stood up, turning to look at him.  "We may have to force our way into the Initiative headquarters."

"Damnit.  How long - I mean, how long has she been trying?  Shouldn't she have - "  The phone rang thank god  and Xander walked fast to it, snatching it up.

"Buffy?"

"I can't find anybody, Xander.   We're going to have to go in there - "

"Ok.  Listen - head back to Giles' house.  We'll meet you there, figure something out.  What about Riley?"  Buffy hesitated, and Xander felt the ice in his belly getting bigger, making him feel slightly sick.

"I can't get him, Xander.  He's not - answering.  Just - get to Giles' house fast, ok?"

"Ok.  See you there."

"See you.  Xander...thanks."

"Sure, Buff.  No problem."  Xander hung up, turning to face Willow.  Willow and Tara had stood up, clutching anxiously at each other, and Giles was rubbing his forehead.

"What'd she say?  Can she find anybody?"

"She can't, Willow.  We're gonna meet her at Giles' house, figure out - how to get in there."  Xander stepped up closer to her - put his hand out and gently touched her cheek.  "It's gonna be ok, Willow.  We'll figure this out.  We'll get Oz out."  Willow smiled shakily at him, gripping Tara's hand, and Xander turned to Giles.

"Will you take the girls back to your house?  I'll follow in a minute - "

"We'll follow, Harris."  Xander snapped his head around to stare at Spike, who was leaning nonchalantly on the doorway, cigarette in his hand.  But Xander could see the tension around his eyes - could see the slight shake of his hand that he tried to disguise by rolling the cigarette, lifting it to his mouth.

"What?  No, no we,  Spike.  No way."

"Xander - "

"He's not going, Giles -"

"Harris."  Spike said, and his voice was cold and level and dead calm.  Xander narrowed his eyes at him.  Spike made a jerk of his head, indicating the kitchen, and pushed away from the doorjamb, walking to the kitchen door.   Xander followed, fists clenched. No, no, NO, Spike, not gonna let you get near there, not gonna risk you, I'm NOT...

"Spike - " he hissed, the minute he was close, and Spike shot a quick glance over Xander's shoulder at the girls and Giles.

"Xander, love, I know a way in.  A - back door, like.  How I got out last time."  Spike kept his voice low and even, but his pupils were dilated so far his eyes seemed black.

"NO, Spike.  You can't - I won't risk you getting caught again.  Who fuckin' knows what they'll do this time - "

"I'm going with you, Xander.  You're not going in there with just the Slayer - she never watches out for you.  I know how to get in, I'll help you.  You just - keep 'em off me, ok?  I trust you, Xander."  Surreptitiously, he put his hand on Xander's chest, rubbing a small circle there.

"Spike...fuck..."  Xander wanted to hit something.  In frustration, he grabbed up the dirty dishes, jamming them into the sink and then leaning there, gripping the sink-edge in a death grip.

"Xander - we need to hurry."  Giles from the living room, his hand on Willow's shoulder, his face set and angry.

"Damnit.  Ok.  OK.  But Spike - "  Xander spun around to face him, anger and helplessness and fear plain on his face.  He dropped his voice down low again.  "You don't take any chances - keep close to me and just - damnit."  

"I got it, mate.  You too.  C'mon now, you're makin' the Watcher nervous."  Spike stared back at him, his facade perfectly calm and emotionless, and Xander shook his head.

"Yeah.  Ok.  Will you - get the candles in the other room, please?"

"No problem, pet."  He went away into the living room, and Xander stood there a minute, trying to collect himself.  What about Jack?  

"Damnit," he whispered, thinking frantically.  He undid the chain on the kitchen door and made sure the deadbolt was unlocked.  Then he grabbed a clean plate and fork and put them on the table with one of Spike's beers.  The bread was already on the table and Xander stared at it for a moment.   The candle was in a glass jar...  should be safe...   Salt!    "Right," he muttered, grabbing the salt off the stove and putting it with the bread.  Should do it.  Please be here when we get back.  Jack - you're welcome here, please wait for us...

"Ready mate?"  Spike called, and Xander hurried through to him, catching the vampire's puzzled look.

"Tell you later," he whispered, grabbing his keys out of Spike's hand.   He hastily stuffed his feet into the work boots he'd left by the door, not bothering to do up the laces.   Spike already had his own boots and the duster on, cigarette clenched in his teeth.   Giles and the girls were on the porch, and they walked quickly to the vehicles.  

"Uh, Xander ?  What's with all the candles in there?"  Willow was looking at him strangely as Giles unlocked his car.  Tara seemed to be smiling behind her hair.

"What?  Oh - uh, saves on the electric, you know?  'Sides, I like it better."

"Oh.  Sure.  Electric." Willow nodded as Tara tugged her into Giles' car.  Giles backed out and drove away, tires squealing slightly, and Spike and Xander got into Xander's truck.  As Xander pushed the key into the ignition, Spike grabbed him and pulled him into a hard, passionate kiss, stealing his breath and squeezing his ribs painfully tight.  

"Love you, love you," Spike gasped, and Xander kissed him back.  

"Love you. Damnit, I hate this.  Don't get hurt, Spike, don't let them near you, run if you have to, just..."

"It'll be ok, love.  Promise."  Xander looked into the wide eyes, the sharply planed face so close to his own.  Beautiful, he's so beautiful...can't lose him...

"Ok, Spike.  Ok."  They drove in silence, Spike's hand resting on his on the gear-shift.

Fuck.  Hate this place.  Stinks.  Rotten blood and death and disinfectant and fear...  Spike clenched his teeth, forcing himself to stride - to strut - behind the Slayer and Xander.  No way was he going to show any fear - any weakness.   He was a Master in his own right, and military hardware or no, he would not cringe or cower.  Ever.  Even in this bloody soldier get-up.  "Evil olive", my arse.

Up ahead,  Buffy kicked her way into a room and a moment later emerged with an older, paunchy soldier - obviously an officer.  

"Riley's in the brig.   We'll get him first."  Buffy looked determined, and Spike didn't miss Xander rolling his eyes.    Spike could clearly see the sweat on Xander's face, the lines of tension around his mouth.   Stay calm, pet.  We'll be in and out in no time.  Get Red's wolf and gone.  Calm, yeah.  Need a bloody smoke   Spike felt his pockets for cigarettes and then cursed when he realized he'd left them in his duster.  Xander glanced over at him and he shrugged, scowling.   The officer - Colonel somebody - directed Buffy down a side corridor and they waited there while she ghosted around the corner, intent on getting her soldier-boy.   Stupid bitch.  Should get the wolf and go.  Captain Cardboard can get his own arse out of this - these are his mates.  If she left him here maybe they'd execute him.  Save us all some trouble    The Colonel shifted nervously and Xander poked him with his rifle, looking ready to blow.

"So what'd this Riley do, eh?  Why'd you lock him up?" Spike asked, trying to distract Xander, make him ease up.

"He betrayed his command," the Colonel said stiffly, eyeing Spike with poorly concealed distaste.

"What's that mean?" Xander asked, looking down the corridor where Buffy had gone.   The Colonel looked Xander up and down, frowning.

"He tried to help an HST escape.   That's a court-martialing offence.  Why are you helping these hostiles, son?"  The Colonel sounded as if he were making an effort to be paternal towards Xander, and the demon reacted instantly.   Spike snarled, vamping out and lunging at the Colonel, who jerked away into the wall.  Spike got up close to him, snapping his fangs in his face.

"You mean a hostile like this?"  Xander got close to the Colonel on his other side, looking from Spike to the soldier.  "I'm helping because the 'hostile', as you call him, is my friend.  And because I happen to be fucking this one."  The Colonels' eyes bugged, and Spike hissed at him, dropping back into his human face and planting a quick kiss on Xander's mouth.

"Ta, love," he whispered, and then spun around as Buffy and Riley came around the corner.

"Let's go," Buffy said.  "He's being held down here."  They quick-marched, silent, Buffy keeping her crossbow trained on the Colonel, her other hand knotted in his shirt.

Oh, my boy, you're gonna get a niiice reward for that bit of bravado back there.  Trailing behind, Spike managed to reach out and let his fingers rest lightly on Xander's wrist for a moment.   Xander shot him a quick grin, and then they were in that place - that corridor.  Glass-fronted cages, with demons and vampires pacing or huddled or snarling from within.  Spike shivered, and the demon roared, fighting to emerge, to rend and destroy.    Back off, back off, can't do anything, just back off, get the wolf and out...bloody hell, smells the same, looks the same...fuck   Spike  could feel his fingers denting the stock of the rifle he held.  Xander shot a look of concern at him and then they stopped, because there was the wolfling, huddled and naked, and more soldiers surrounding them, holding their weapons in a confused mess of level and not, obviously unsure of what to do.

Buffy yanked the Colonel closer, holding her crossbow up to his head.  Spike watched as Oz looked up, recognizing Buffy and then Riley, his eyes flicking over to Xander and then coming to a stop on Spike, widening in surprise.  Spike nodded fractionally at him, glancing around again and again at the soldiers.  

Come on, people, come on, the longer we fuck around the more bloody time they've got to figure out how to fuckin'  stop us.  What'll I do if they attack?  If I shoot when Xander does, will this bloody chip know if I hit anyone?  Bloody fucking HELL - what is she babbling about, William Burroughs?  Christ, Slayer, just shut up  

One of the soldiers walked cautiously forward and used his key-card to open the cell door.  Oz stood slowly, the bruises, cuts and burns on his body clearly evident, and Spike heard Xander whisper "fucking bastards”.   Oz walked out, shying away from the soldier, and Riley and Buffy both looked shocked - and embarrassed.   Spike saw how Buffy was looking everywhere but at Oz and finally realized that it was because Oz was naked.  

Not the time for bloody scruples you miserable...   Spike took three quick steps up to the soldier who'd opened the door and grabbed his shirt.

"Get him his clothes, you bastard," he hissed.  Oz had sunk down onto his haunches again, shivering, and Spike crouched down in front of him, watching the soldier go to a locker at the end of the hall, fumbling with the latch.

"You all right, wolfling?" Spike asked, and Oz rubbed a trembling hand over his face.  

"All right enough to get out of here,"  Oz whispered.  His voice was a ruined husk, and he winced, swallowing hard.  

"Soon be free, mate.  Here."   Spike pulled his flask out of his back pocket and unscrewed the top, then handed it to Oz.  Oz sniffed, eyebrows going up, then he took a long drink, grimacing as the alcohol stung his throat.  Spike could see blood on the corners of his lips.

"F-fuck." Oz coughed a little, and rubbed his hand over his lips.   Spike took the flask back and stood up as the soldier approached with a wad of clothes.  Oz struggled into jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, ill-fitting clothes that were obviously not his.  He didn't bother with the socks or sneakers.  He nodded to Spike and they both went over to Xander.  Xander put his hand on Oz's shoulder, gently, and looked inquiringly at him.  Oz nodded, and Xander stepped back, assured Oz was all right enough for now.  Buffy started backing up, taking the Colonel with her.   They backtracked to a bank of elevators, and Spike felt relief wash over him as they crowded in.  The elevator doors closed on the soldiers furious faces, and they rode up in silence.  

The doors opened again in Lowell House, and Spike snarled.   Should burn this place to the fucking ground   Oz stepped out quickly, limping, and Xander and Spike followed.  Riley seemed to want to say something to the Colonel, and since the Slayer was staying with him, Spike was happy to go ahead and leave them to it.  

They got out of Lowell house fast, making their way across the campus towards where Xander had parked his truck.  Oz staggered, breathing hard, and Spike could smell blood and exhaustion and fear rolling off him - and rage.  The wolf-smell was strong, and Oz kept snapping his teeth, growling a little, obviously fighting for control.  Spike touched  Xanders' arm, gesturing towards a patch of deep shadow.  Xander frowned but followed when Spike took Oz's arm and pulled him into the darkness.  

"Come down here," Spike whispered, crouching down, and they did.  Oz was shaking hard, hands clenched in the loose folds of the sweatshirt, his eyes utterly black.  Xander looked nervous, and Spike could smell fear from him, and worry.

"Wolfling - listen mate.  You've got to calm down.  You can't be wolfin' out on me and the boy here.  You're out now - safe, alright?"  Spike reached to touch his shoulder and Oz shivered, gasping.  Xander moved close in on his other side, and slid an arm around Oz, pulling him close.

"Oz, it's ok.  Spike's right.  Willow said - you learned something from some monks?   Try it - use it.  We've got to get out of here, ok?"  Spike watched as Oz tried to slow his breathing, his eyes wide and still scared, the wolf-scent pouring off him.  He reached blindly and clutched at Spike's sweater and suddenly his face was against Spike's chest and he was crying - gasping, choking sobs that shook his slight frame.  Spike looked up at Xander, meeting the mortal's helpless gaze, then he just folded Oz into his arms, pulling him and Xander both close, holding the shaking, coughing boy to him while Xander crooned something into Oz's ear, rubbing his back, rocking him a little.  The three of them huddled there, long minutes, until finally Oz came out of it.  The dreadful gasps eased off and faded away, and he finally sat back, rubbing at his face; still shaking but the tremors less, now.  His eyes were human again, and he reached out and gently cupped Xander's face in one hand, Spike's in the other.  His hand was cold, sticky with tears, smelling of disinfectant and blood.

"Th-thanks.  I'm ok now, guys."  His voice was so strained and cracked the Spike winced to hear it, and Xander shushed him immediately.

"Don't talk, Oz.  It's ok.  Come on, let's get you to Giles' house, ok?  Willow's going out of her mind worrying about you - "  Xander stopped as Oz clutched at him, shaking his head.

"What, wolfling?"

"Can't.  Not there.  Please?"  Spike looked up at Xander, baffled, but Xander looked as if he understood.

"You don't want to go to Giles' house?"  Oz nodded, his lip trembling, and Xander rubbed his shoulder.

"Ok.  It's ok.  You can - you can come to my house.  You'll be safe there - Riley doesn't know where I live, and you'll be safe.  OK?"  Oz sighed in relief, nodding.

"Right then, let's get a bloody move on.  Gotta get away from these bloody soldiers."  They walked faster now, Oz still limping but doing better.  They got to Xander's truck and piled in, Oz in the middle, huddled and miserable.   As they drove slowly off campus, Oz suddenly straightened, pointing.  

"What is it, Oz?"  Xander asked, slowing even more.  Oz pointed again, and Spike saw a zebra-striped van, parked in the back of a student lot.

"Oh, hey - your van.  Want to get it?"  Oz nodded, and Xander drove over to it.  Spike thought furiously, wanting to avoid Giles' house as much as Oz did.

"Xan - listen.  Why don't me an' the wolfling take his van and get home.  You go over to the Watchers an' explain everything.  They'll wanna know what happened, anyway, and  if I try an' tell 'em anything all I'll get is arguments and threats."   Xander sighed, looking at his hands, then up at Spike.

"Yeah - you're right.  Fuck.  Ok.  Just - be careful.  Don't attract any attention, ok?  'Cause I'm bettin' you don't have a drivers license or an i.d. of any kind."  Xander tried to look stern, but Spike could see the little smile that played around his mouth.

"Right, mate.  Come on, wolfling, you got an extra key for that?"  They climbed out of the truck and Spike slid his rifle under the seat.    Oz felt under a wheel well for a moment, finally pulling out a spare key in a little magnetic box.  He opened the back door and climbed stiffly in, then handed the key to Spike.  Spike shut the door and walked over to the truck, leaning in Xander's window.  He grabbed a handful of Xander's sweater and pulled him close, kissing him hard; the stress and fright of the evening needed some sort of outlet, and this was as close as he was going to get for now to what he really wanted.  Xander kissed him back just as desperately, and then pulled reluctantly away.  

"Ok - gotta go.  Want to get home as fast as I can.  You were great in there, Spike.  Did great."

"Huh.  You too - 'specially tellin' that bloody Colonel we were fuckin'.  Thought he'd drop right there."  Xander laughed, and pulled him in for another kiss, shorter this time.

"I'm not ashamed of it - any of it.  I'd tell Buffy and the gang tomorrow if I thought I could without getting you killed, but..."

"I know love, I know."  Spike petted Xander's hair, seeing the worry and sadness cross his face.    Know you'd claim me from the roof-top, love.  You'd be crazy to do it, but you would...  

"Why do you think Riley tried to help?"  Spike shrugged.

"Dunno.  Maybe he was just tryin' to get some points in with the Slayer.  Don't trust him, no matter what he did."

"Me neither."  Xander reached and touched Spike's cheek.  "You were brave."  Spike grinned, flash of fangs.

"You told the Colonel we were shaggin'.  Who's brave now?"  He leaned in and kissed Xander hard, then reluctantly pulled back.                "We'll go straight home - mind you do the same.  Hurry."

"I'll hurry."   Spike stepped back and Xander drove away, looking back once or twice.  Spike glanced around, then hurriedly got into Oz's van.  It was thick with the wolf-smell, and also with fainter undertones of incense and marijuana, dust and stale bedding and someone - another man.   Friend of the wolf's, maybe, been in here recently.  Not Red, though.   Spike started the van and began to drive, and after a moment Oz shuffled up behind him, kneeling in the tangle of bedding and clothes, one hand gripping the back of the driver's seat for support.  

"Ok then, mate?"  Spike asked, and Oz made an inarticulate sound, throat working.  He coughed and tried again.

"Ffflask?" he whispered, and Spike dug it out of his pocket, handing it back to him.  

"There you are, pet.  Go slow."  Oz nodded and tipped the flask back, taking a small mouthful and wincing as he drank, his throat obviously raw.  He drank a couple more times then offered it to Spike.  The vampire took the flask - weighed it in his hand and then drained it, keeping one eye on the road.  He shoved it back into his pocket and Oz leaned on the seat, eyes half-shut.  Spike drove with uncharacteristic care, not wanting the lackadaisical attentions of the Sunnydale police to notice him tonight.   They were both silent, and Spike was tense until he pulled up in front of the house and parked.   Oz didn't move, half-dazed by the motion of the van, almost asleep.

"Come on wolfling - got some clothes in here?  Grab your kit and we'll get you a shower, right?  Wash the bloody stink of the place off of you.  Get you somethin' to eat."  Oz blinked at him, then crawled away into the depths of the van, emerging from the back with a paper bag stuffed with a few things.  He wobbled, out on his feet, and Spike shut the van door and guided him up to the house.   Xander kept a spare key under a rock on the front porch, and Spike stooped and got it out, and quickly opened the door.  He helped Oz in, shutting the door - and froze.    Someone's been in here.  What the bloody hell is it?  Not human...fuck...  He pushed Oz against the door.  

"Stay here a minute," he whispered, and moved silently toward the kitchen.  The plate Xander had left had been used - fragments of pasta and smears of sauce were drying on it.  The beer was empty, and there was a piece of paper pinned under the bottle.  Spike peered at it.  There were two words written there, in a slanting, careful script.  "Tomorrow - Jack"   What the fuck?  That Jack from Oxnard?  What's he doin' here? And what the fuck is he?  Xan-love, what are you doing?  Spike knew the house was empty except for Oz and himself, but the lingering presence left by this 'Jack' made him uneasy.  He crossed to the kitchen door and turned the deadbolt - set the chain.   Fuck it.  Gotta get the wolfling sorted    He went back out to the living room to find Oz crouched against the door, nearly asleep, his bag crumpled in his arms.  Spike crouched down beside him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder.  

"Come on mate - let's get you clean, get you something - 'nother drink, maybe.  Come on. It's safe."  Oz peered at him, his eyes flashing green in the dim light of the kitchen candle.  He pushed himself slowly to his feet and let Spike lead him back to the bathroom.  Spike grabbed the matchbook that was in the cabinet drawer and lit the bathroom candles  This is better then the regular lights, anyway...never turned those damn lights off in that place...burned your eyes out after a while...  He got the shower turned on, making sure it was warm.  Oz stood, dazed and swaying, and Spike shook him a little.

"Wolfling - wake up.  Can you get undressed?  Come on, pet, that's it..."  He helped Oz shed the borrowed clothes, then guided him into the shower.  The bruises and cuts looked just as bad in the softer candle glow, and Spike felt an unexpected rage well up in him.

He's not my friend - he's Red's dog...why do I care?  Maybe 'cause he's hurt...worse then I ever was.  Even the damn Scoobies treated him like he was human.  They never made him an animal - a thing. I KNOW I'm not human - they made sure HE did, too.  Fucking bastards.  Oz woke up in the shower a little, getting the soap and washing carefully around the cuts.  Spike bundled up the clothes and shoved them into the trash, then heard the phone ringing in the other room.  

"Gotta get the phone.  You'll be ok, mate?"  Oz nodded at him through the steam, and Spike trotted to the living room and grabbed up the phone.

"Xander?"

"Yeah.  You alright?  Oz?"

"As bloody well as can be expected.  Wolfling's in the shower.  You on your way?"

"Yeah - I'm outta here.  See you soon."

"Be careful, love.  Oi, Xander!  Make sure and get my kit - want my coat back!"  Xander laughed.

"Don't worry 'bout it, Spike - got it covered.  Bye."

"Right," Spike said, and hung up.  He looked down in distaste at the army-issue sweater he was still wearing and hastily skinned out of  it.  He went into the bedroom and got undressed, kicking the army clothes away from him, shoving his boots under the bed.  He decided to wear a pair of Xander's sweat-pants and one of his old flannel shirts.  He needed the comfort - wanted to be surrounded by Xander's scent, by his presence.   At this point, he didn't care what Oz would think.   He got dressed and went into the kitchen, heating up a first and second mug full of blood, feeling better for it.  The residual shakes and nerves of the night were wearing off, and he finally started to relax.  The shower was still going, so he went back to check on Oz.

The boy was huddled down in the bottom of the shower, the water running over him, plastering his hair down.  Spike could smell fear still, and utter misery.  He reached in and turned the shower off, and pulled Oz to his feet.

"Come on, pet - you'll be all right."  He wrapped a towel around the boy, who was shivering, and rubbed briskly, getting him dry, careful over the cuts and scrapes, wincing at the deep bruises.

"You want me to put somethin' on these?" he asked, and Oz shook his head, clutching at the towel.

"No - I'll change, later.  Heal faster."

"Change - go all wolfy?  All right.  Come on and get dressed now."  Spike pulled clothes from the bag - soft flannel pyjama pants and an oversize thermal shirt, thick socks.  Good clothes to sleep in, heal in.   Sleep was what he needed the most, Spike figured, and the whiskey he'd drunk was the best thing he could have had.  Oz dressed slowly, then shuffled out of the bathroom, heading unsteadily for the living room.

"Want to eat?"  Oz shook his head and sank down onto the couch.  He curled on his side, shaking a little, and Spike pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and spread it over him.  Oz  burrowed under it, pulling it close, his eyes already closing.  Spike took a minute to light a couple of candles, then he settled down onto the couch as well, putting his feet up on the coffee table.   Oz reached out with one hand, groping along the couch,  finally finding Spike's hand and closing his fingers around it.  Spike slumped down on the couch, gently squeezing back, waiting for Xander to get there.

8 Trust

When Xander arrived home, he walked in the door and stopped dead,  staring  in surprise at the scene - Spike slumped on the couch, half asleep, with Oz curled next to him, their hands entwined on Spike's thigh.  Xander shut the door quietly and Spike's eyes were suddenly open, watching him.  He gently loosened Oz's grip on his hand and eased off the couch, and they both walked quietly to the kitchen.  Xander had a plastic bag of Oz's shredded clothes, wallet, and keys that, amazingly, Tara had recovered from the college.  He put it on the kitchen counter.

"Everything go alright at the Watcher's, pet?"  Spike asked, and Xander nodded, staring at the table.  

"Yeah - well, sorta.  Willow was pretty upset that Oz didn't want to see her, but I told her he was in bad shape and just didn't want her to worry.  Told her he was just gonna sleep, anyway, and it would be better if everybody was a bit more calm when he finally saw them."   Xander walked up to the table and looked down at the note, touching it with his fingers.  "Buffy backed me up, said he needed to rest and not answer a bunch of questions...  That secret project the mad Professor was working on has killed some people.  I think she finally gets it that the Initiative is bad news."

"Took long enough," Spike muttered, and put his arm around Xander's waist.   He leaned there, his chin on Xander's shoulder as Xander picked up the note and looked at it.  He was here.  Back tomorrow... thank god...  Jack, I hope this works  

"What is he, Xander?" Spike asked, and Xander turned to face him, putting his own arms around Spike's waist, groin to groin but leaning back a little.  Spike's eyes were narrowed, speculating, and Xander raised his eyebrows in question.

"What do you mean?"

"He's not human, pet.   I could...feel him, when I got here.  It - he..."   Spike cocked his head a little, thinking, eyes never leaving Xander's face.  

"What, Spike?"

"It was - uncomfortable.  Whatever he is, he's strong.  What are you doing messin' about with somethin' like that, love?"

"He owes me, remember?  I'm calling in the debt."  Xander leaned closer and kissed Spike lightly, lips and cheeks, edge of his jaw, side of his throat.  He nibbled on the tiny marks that hadn't quite faded from his earlier bite, and Spike shivered, shutting his eyes.   Xander let his hands wander up the front of the flannel shirt, undoing one button, then the next, exposing the smooth planes of Spike's chest.

"Think you can distract me with sex?" Spike murmured, and Xander laughed softly, breathily, ghosting more kisses over Spike's collarbones, the other side of his neck.

"Oh yeah.  Is it working?"

"Workin' a treat, love," Spike whispered, pressing his erection tight into Xander, and Xander laughed again.  Spike slid his arms up Xander's back and gently took his head in his hands, kissing him slowly, with utmost concentration.  Xander sighed into the kiss, reveling in it, loving the taste and scent and feel of the vampire, content to just stand there all night, kissing him, feeling him, holding him Safe, he's safe, he's here, mine, oh...please don't leave me, love, please don't...  

"Xanderrr," Spike whispered, breaking away, nuzzling into his hair,  "Want you..."   He grazed Xander's jaw, his throat, with blunt teeth and Xander shuddered, the sensation going straight to his groin, a tingle like electricity all over.

"Have me...whatever you want...yours..." Xander mumbled, and Spike did a slow, sensual slide down Xander's body, his hands working at the belt, the button and zip of the Army pants, opening them and pulling them down.  His cool cheek rubbed over Xander's hip, his lips nibbling, tongue darting out to flicker over heated skin.  Xander gasped softly, swaying, looking down at Spike.   He stumbled a little as Spike pushed him back a step, into a kitchen chair.  He sank down and Spike slid his hands around Xander's waist, rubbing up his back and then down again, to settle on his hips.

His mouth glided over Xander's belly and then finally, ohhh...  it was on Xander's cock, cool and wet, sliding down, licking, sucking, and Xander couldn't stop his hands from going out to Spike's hair.  He curled his fingers in it, only holding, caressing.  The vampire took the head of Xander's cock into his mouth, sucking gently,  and Xander tried hard not to thrust up into him, afraid of hurting him.  Spike went lower, further, and Xander could only writhe under him, lost in the pressure and the slick glide, in the fingers that stroked his hips and thighs and then slid down, to caress his balls.  Spike pulled away and bent to lick there too, mouthing  them, and Xander moaned softly.  

Then the cool mouth was back on his cock and taking him in, flicker of tongue and hard suction, fingers sliding between his legs to stroke and tease his perineum, slipping lower and just breaching the muscle with slippery fingertips.  Xander gasped, transferring his grip to the chair-seat, clutching it tightly as Spike went faster, harder, with both fingers and mouth until Xander was arching up into him, trembling in orgasm and feeling Spike swallow and swallow again.  

Xander slumped back in the chair, eyes shut, panting, and he felt Spike's lips kissing his belly and then chest, pushing the shirt up.  Then Spike's mouth was on his and Xander kissed him hungrily, tasting himself.  Suddenly Spike was gone, and Xander opened his eyes, looking dazedly around.   A noise from the bedroom and the vampire was back.

"Stand up, pet," Spike whispered, and Xander struggled upright, the vampire helping, then turning him, putting his hands back on the chair seat.  Spike pushed Xander's pants lower, past his knees.

"Still want you..." Spike whispered in his ear, and he felt the vampire's fingers again, slick with lube, opening him, and Xander spread his legs as far as they would go in the confines of the camo pants.  

"Want you to come with me, this time," Spike murmured, and Xander pushed back against the twisting, petting fingers, groaning aloud as they found their mark and rubbed there.   He couldn't help but push back, thrusting as hard as he could, and he gasped when Spike abruptly withdrew.  A moment later the cool, blunt head of his cock was pushing there, insisting, and Xander arched into the body behind him, half hard, panting.  

Spike moved into him so slowly; he held Xander's hips in a tight grip and moved inch by inch.  

"Please move, Spike, please - want you in me..."

"Hmmmm..."  Spike leaned over his back, one hand coming around to lazily stroke Xander's cock, fondle his balls.  The other rubbed over his chest, pinching his nipples, scratching sharp nails down his ribs.  Xander pushed back, hard, and Spike was in him.  They both froze for a long moment, and then Spike was thrusting into him, building speed, changing the angle until Xander made a wordless sound of pure pleasure.  Spike put both hands under Xander's shoulders and pulled him upright, holding him there.

"Shush, love, have to be quiet - don't want to wake the wolfling..."  He kissed and nibbled Xander's neck, and Xander shivered as the vampire found his mark and trailed blunt teeth over it.

"Do it, Spike - want to feel that.  Feels like...like I'm in you, when you do that...feels so good..."  

Spike let one hand trail down Xander's body to his cock and began to stroke him in time with the thrusts into his body.  Xander felt him change and he tipped his head to the side, begging silently, his hands going behind to grasp at Spike's hips, urging him on.  Spike thrust harder, making his own moaning cries now, and Xander used his muscles to tighten down on Spike's cock, pushing back, wanting as much as Spike could give him.  

Spike's left arm lifted suddenly, disappearing, and then he was bringing it around again in front and Xander saw that he'd torn his own wrist.  The blood trailed there, gleaming scarlet, and Xander hesitated for only a moment, and then reached to press the wound to his mouth.  

The blood was... Oh...so good...like sparks, like..  Xander almost giggled, licking the heady stuff.  Like Pop Rocks.  Ooohh...  Spike hissed in pleasure and suddenly his fangs were sinking into Xander's flesh, sending out a wave of electric frission, blossoming from where the fangs were sheathed in him and racing over his body, ending where Spike's cock was sheathed.  

Xander arched, rigid and trembling, a knot of fire tightening in his cock and balls and ass, sending him into orgasm.  
Spike's wrist was drawn away, his hand curling around Xander's hip, the other stroking him fiercely, the rhythm of Spike's hips going ragged now as his body stuttered into orgasm as well.  With a low moan Spike pulled away from Xander's neck, licking the blood there and gasping,  his arms tight around Xander.  Xander leaned his head back on Spike's shoulder and just breathed,  his heart pounding fit to burst.  Oh  that feels so good...like we're the same person...same orgasm...never wanted anyone this much...never want anyone else...  

"Love you," he whispered, and Spike's arms tightened around him, and he felt cool lips on his jaw and then cheek, soft kisses at his temple.

"Love you too.   Xander...you sure..."

"Sure of what, Spike?"  Spike tried to move and Xander crossed his arms over Spike's arms, holding him there.

"Sure that...I'm what you want, pet? "

"Mmmm.  I am.  Never been so sure.  Thought about you for so long - and this is better then I ever thought it would be.  So much better...  I was so sure you'd never..."  Xander stopped, and Spike kissed his temple again, hugging harder for a brief moment.

"Sure I'd never what, love?"

"Never feel anything for me.  Why should you?  You had Drusilla...and I'm human - can't compare to a vampire..."  Spike finally let go, turning Xander in his arms.  Xander looked into eyes that were wide and deepest sea-blue in a face so solemn and intense that he felt a clench of fear in his gut.

I can be second to her.  I can.  Don't care...

Don't want that - want ALL of him...   The soldier, fierce and anxious, no intention of being second.  The hyena was only a wordless hum of pleasure, too lost in the presence of  the vampire to notice or care about the sudden tension.

"You can't compare, love.  That's one of the reasons I want you so much.  You're so different...   Never spent this much time with a human, not since I was turned."  Spike pushed his fingers back through Xander's hair, tugging gently, then leaned in and rested, forehead to forehead, his hands burrowing under Xander's shirt, rubbing his back in slow circles.   "I don't want a vampire - I want you.  Dru... she's gone.  She told me what for, and pushed me away...  I loved her so bloody much, once upon a time...but I just don't anymore.  She cut my heart - slashed it to bloody pieces.    And I...it was just habit there at the end, love.  Just habit.  Hundred years I gave her, more, and she took it all...and I just want..."  Spike stopped and put his face down into Xander's neck, and breathed a moment there, deeply.  His hands were shaking on Xander's back, and Xander pulled him close, stroking the vampire's back under the flannel shirt he'd never taken off.

"Just want you.   You make me real too, love - make me know I'm still here.  Make me feel..."  Spike lifted his head, looking into Xander's eyes, and Xander saw the truth there.  He leaned in to kiss Spike, slow and easy and thorough,   cloves and cream, whiskey and spice and...blood.  So...good...

"Love you...just...love you.  Never really thought I'd say that and mean it so...damn...much,"  Xander whispered.  Spike smiled at him, nuzzling his cheek, his fingers coming back up to comb through Xander's hair.

"Glad you do, pet.  Love you too..."  Spike kissed him again, little fleeting kisses over cheek and forehead, nose and chin - caught Xander's lower lip between his teeth and nibbled for a minute, then pulled away, grinning.

"Come wash my hair?"  Xander laughed aloud, quickly shushing himself.

"You  do have an obsessive bathing fetish.  But..."  Xander looked down at themselves, pants around ankles and smears of lube and  - other things - on their bodies and clothes.

"But we do need a wash."  He bent his knees a little and snagged the sweatpants Spike was wearing, pulling them up, and Spike did the same for him, leaving the camo pants gaping open, belt jingling.  As they walked to the bathroom, Xander had to ask.

"Why are you wearing my clothes, Spike?"

"Wanted something comfy.  They smell like you."  Spike grinned at Xander's look of surprise, then laughed as a huge smile spread over Xander's face.

"You got a crush on me, Spike!"  Xander teased, and Spike growled.  

"The evil undead do not get crushes, pet.  We're much too dignified for that."

"Oh right.  Forgot.  Dignity."  Xander reached over and yanked the sweatpants down, giggling.  Spike made a point of very carefully shutting the bathroom door before pouncing.

After they showered, Xander went about cleaning up the kitchen while Spike watched him.  The vampire smoked one cigarette after another until Xander finally opened the kitchen door and made shooing motions with his hand.

"What?" Spike asked, and Xander made a face at him.  

"You're going to choke me with those things.  Until the marathon chain-smoking session is over, go outside.  Why are you smoking so much, anyway?"  Spike looked at the cigarette he was holding and frowned, then crushed it out in the overflowing ashtray.

"Sorry, mate.  Didn't think about it.  Just - this Jack..."

"That's what you're worried about?"  Damnit.  Didn't want to talk about this.  Wanted to talk to Jack first...  Ok, calm...  Xander took the ashtray and dumped it, then tossed it back to Spike, who sat on the kitchen table, bare feet in a chair, his black jeans half undone.  Spike weighed the ashtray in his hands, then looked up at Xander, scowling.

"Do you know what he is, really?  He wasn't even in the soddin' house and I felt...  He's so strong, love.  Can you trust him?  What do you want him for?"  Xander sighed, pulling the plug on the kitchen sink, watching the dirty water drain out, wringing out the dishcloth.  He wiped his hands on a towel and turned around, leaning on the sink, arms crossed.

"He owes me - "

"You said that, pet.  What are you going to get him to pay?"  Spike put the ashtray aside and sat there looking at Xander  as if waiting for him to sprout an extra head.  His eyes were narrowed and he was very, very still.   Like a cat about to pounce.  Well fuck.  Here we go   Xander uncrossed his arms and walked over to Spike, nudging one leg aside and getting between the vampire's thighs.  He rested his hands on Spike's hips and sighed, looking up finally to meet the violet-blue gaze.

"I don't  want to tell you..."  Spike started to speak and Xander put a hand up, stilling him.  "But I will, because...I didn't realize you would worry so much.   I'm going to...   I'm going to ask him if he can do - something - about the chip."  Spike's eyes went wide, and Xander felt Spike's muscles go rigid under his fingers.  Spike didn't move - didn't say anything, and Xander couldn't stop the babble that welled up out of him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Spike, I didn't want to tell you, I don't know if he can do anything at all, he might just tell me to forget it, but you're right, he's powerful, I felt it, and it just seemed like...   He's the only - it's the only solution I can come up with.  The Initiative seems to be imploding, who knows if they'll even be around in a few months, and they're the only other people who know..."

"Xander...love...hush."  Spike lay one cool finger on Xander's lips, shushing him, and Xander looked down at where his hands were clenching on Spike's hips.  He eased up, rubbing gently.

"What..." Spike stopped, looking away, then back at Xander.  "What if he can.  I'll be free of this bloody chip - free to kill.  And I will, love.  You know I will.  Startin' with those soldier bastards and any doctor I can get my hands on...   Every one of them..."  Spike's eyes were lambent brass now, glowing in the candle-light, and Xander rubbed his hands on Spike's thighs.

"I know, Spike.  I trust you."

"Do you really?  Do you really, pet?"  Spike let the demon emerge, baring his fangs, hissing through them, his hands on Xander's biceps, clenching hard.

"This is me, Xander - whatever you see when you look at me with that mojo - this is me...and I earned my name, love, and I enjoyed earning it.  And nothing stops me, and nobody owns me, and I'll snap the Slayer's neck for her, love.  On the day I get lucky, she gets dead, love - do you  really understand, love, who I am, what I am, what I'll do?"  Spike's voice had sunk to a sibilant growl, all the more unnerving for being so quiet.

Xander could feel his heart pounding - could feel fear and anger and desperation all roiling in his gut - knew that Spike could feel it, sense it;  the demon's nostrils flared, and a groaning, snarling noise rumbled out of his chest.  Xander felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck - felt his breath shortening to pants.

Harris, you've fucked yourself,  TOLD you -    

SHUT. UP.  You're not helping.  Gotta calm down - gotta calm him down...what...  

Pack  the hyena muttered, whining,  Pack   Xander's eyes widened.  He knew what the hyena wanted him to do - for the second time, the hyena was urging something Xander knew was dangerous.   But the hyena knew that maybe, this was all he could do.  To calm Spike down.  To show him...he trusted him.   God I hope this works...  Xander closed his eyes and tipped his head back and to the side, exposing his throat, the edges of Spike's earlier bite showing above the collar of his t-shirt.  And waited there, shivering, for what Spike would do.  

He felt the vampire's hands dig hard into his arms - heard the snarl ratchet up into a full-fledged growl; louder, deeper, infinitely more terrifying.  

Spike jerked Xander close, crushing the mortal to his chest, his mouth going down hard on Xander's throat, on his mark, one hand shredding the t-shirt away from it in a single jerk.  The fangs bit, savage and hard, and Xander felt the blood flow out in a shivery rush.   Xander gasped, writhing helplessly.  

Even this - this brutal taking, sent heat through him, want, desire.  His hands scrabbled at Spike's back, trying to pull him closer, and abruptly Spike wrenched himself away, pushing Xander back, launching himself off the table and around the room in an inarticulate fury.  He roared, and Xander heard a yelp and a thud from the living room.   Oz, fuck... don't come in here...

"Spike!" Xander yelled, and Spike rounded on him, snarling, then stopped and backed away.  He came up hard against the wall by the bedroom door and slid down into a crouch, head in hands.  Xander watched him for a moment, then he walked slowly over to him, crouching down as well, clenching his hands together in an effort not to reach out and touch the vampire.  He just hovered there, and finally Spike looked up, human again, the expression on his face utterly furious.

"That was the stupidest bloody thing I've ever seen you do." he grated out, and Xander ducked his head, unable to keep a smile off his face.

"Maybe it was.  But it proved my point, Spike.  Didn't it."  Spike glared at him, and Xander finally reached out, slow, and touched the sharp curve of  cheekbone; brushed his fingers back through Spike's shower-damp hair.  

"You're a vampire.  I know that.  You kill.  I know that.  But..."  Xander smiled softly at him, caressing Spike's cheek, and Spike leaned into it, so feline that Xander almost laughed.  "You're a vampire and I trust you.  A vampire whose soul glows like the sun.  Who loves me.   Who went back into the place that gives him nightmares to help rescue - "

"Me.  And I'm kinda wondering why."  Xander and Spike both whipped around, startled, to stare at Oz, who leaned in the doorway of the living room.  The werewolf was pale and a little shaky on his feet, but his green gaze was steady and calm.  Spike laughed, slightly hysterical, and put his head down in his hands again, scrubbing his fingers through his hair.

"Hey, Oz.  Sorry about - "  Xander made a vague gesture, himself and Spike, and Oz shrugged, pushing away from the door jamb and shuffling over to where the other two were.  He eased himself down, cross-legged, looking first at Xander and then at Spike.

"I remember you, from - school.  Parent-teacher night.  Saw you in the halls...  Spike.  Vampire."

"S'right, mate.  You care?"  Oz shook his head, glancing over at Xander.

"I knew back at - that place.  But you were with Buffy, and...you smelled like Xander, all over.  Figured you were...friendly, somehow.   And Xander smells like you.  So I guess that's why the rescue? You two together?"  Xander choked, trying not to laugh, and then he had to.  He sprawled down onto his butt, snorting, and Spike slid down until he, too, was sitting, kicking Xander's foot.

"You great tit," Spike said, and smirked.  Xander sat up straight, shooting a mock-furious look at Spike.

"Don't call me weird English slang things - I don't know how to respond.  So,  Oz...you don't care?  I mean, about Spike and me...the grrr thing - all that?"   Oz shrugged, rubbing his hands up his arms as if he were cold.

"S'cool with me, man.  I mean, the yelling and the growling was a bit...but you guys seem ok.  That looks a little sore."  Oz was peering at the bite, and Xander reached up to it, ruefully fingering his torn t-shirt.  

"It'll heal.  He wasn't actually trying to hurt me."  Xander just looked at Oz for another minute, grinning.   Thanks, Oz - for being...just calm.  Needed that

"So - how're you feeling?  Do you  - are you hungry?"

"Kinda.  My stomach's kinda...  Mostly I'm thirsty.  I'd really like some water."  His voice seemed to have mended itself, but the bruises were still stark on his face.   Xander scrambled to his feet, pulling Spike up with him.

"Why don't you help our guest to a chair, vampire-mine."  Spike lifted an eyebrow, cocking his head to one side as if considering whether or not to comply.  Then he swooped in and got a quick kiss in on Xander's lips before turning to Oz and holding out a hand.

"C'mon, mate.  Up you go."  Xander grinned and went over to the 'fridge for water, filling a glass and putting it on the table for Oz.  Spike helped Oz to a chair; the brief nap seemed to have stiffened the werewolf up and he moved gingerly, wincing.  He drank in silence, watching as Xander settled in a chair and Spike leaned behind him, the long,  pale fingers going out almost unconsciously to stroke Xander's hair.  

"So - what do you... You're welcome to stay here as long as you like,  no problem, but...what are you gonna do about...Willow?"

Oz looked down at his glass, stroking his finger along the sweating side.  He sighed, then looked back up at Xander.

"I think...Willow and me...that's over.  That girl - Tara?   She was - all over Willow.  Like - well, a lot like you two."

"Yeah?"   Huh.  I thought they were getting close, but - didn't realize...  That must hurt...

"Thought those two were up to somethin'," Spike murmured, and Xander tipped his head back to look at him.

"You did?  Why?"

"Same as wolfman, here," Spike said, and tapped his nose.  Xander grimaced and looked back at Oz.  

"You know, stuff like that just makes me want to bathe about five times a day."  Xander yawned suddenly, hugely, and looked around at the clock on the microwave.   1:16.  Damn.  How do I do this to myself?  "Sorry, guys, but I gotta go to sleep.  I gotta be up early for work.  You two...stay up, if you wanna.  Watch TV or whatever, I don't mind.  Ok?"

"Sure," Oz said, and lifted his glass to his mouth, gulping down half the water.  Spike followed Xander into the bedroom, catching him around the waist and kissing him hard, a desperate kiss of passion and claiming and maybe fright, as well.  Spike reluctantly pulled away, resting his forehead on Xander's.  

"Don't do that again, love.  You could have died."

"But I didn't.  I trust you, Spike.  I see you.  Don't ever forget that."  Xander kissed him gently, and Spike sighed.  

"You're crazy, to be like that."

"Crazy in love.  And - the chip didn't go off.  So I'd say  that doubly proves my point.  You didn't have any intention of hurting me at all." Xander said, and smiled.  Spike shook his head, but he was smiling, too.

"Want me to stay?" Spike asked, and Xander kissed him again, flicker of tongue over Spike's lips.

"Go and sit with Oz for a little, would you?  He might be...  he might need it."  Spike looked at him, and nodded finally, and shut the door softly behind him as he went out.  Xander brushed his teeth quickly and then got into bed, stretching hard and trying to let all the tension out that had accumulated through the day.

I won that round.  I think.  I still trust him.  I hope - I just hope he can...  Fuck.  I wonder if I lived anywhere but Sunnyhell if my love life would be normal   Xander burrowed into his pillow, which held the faint scent of Spike, and was asleep.

When he woke, it was to the unaccustomed sensation of warmth all along his back, and he slapped at the alarm and turned in the bed, wary of what he might find.  He couldn't help but grin at what he did see.  Spike, on his belly, with one arm flopped over the silken back of a large, red-brown wolf.  As Xander stared, the wolf  Oz.  Damn, that's Oz.  Forgot how beautiful.  Wow   raised his head and gazed at Xander with wide black eyes.  

"Hey.  Work."  Xander said softly, and reached out to smooth the thick mane of hair along Oz's shoulders.   Oz made a 'humf' sound down in his chest and lay his head back onto the quilt.  Xander slid out of bed and got ready to go.  Before he left, he tiptoed back into the bedroom and pressed a kiss to Spike's forehead.   A vampire and his wolf.  Hah.  Wish I had a camera.  Least they'll both be safe   He was in his truck and down the street before he remembered that Jack would be there that day.   He glanced back at his house, lit by the rising sun, and mentally shrugged.  One way or another, by tonight they'd both know what Jack could do.   And then - things would change.   And please, for the better

9 Jack

When Xander walked into the kitchen I hope wolves like Chinese. Maybe I should have tried that Ethiopian place...or maybe I should learn to cook Spike was already awake, dressed and sitting at the table, cigarette in hand and mug of blood in front of him. He looked extremely unhappy.

"Hey, what's up?" Xander asked, stroking his hand across Spike's shoulders as he came into the kitchen.

"Bloody witch and the Watcher came by - nattered at the wolf until he bolted."

"What?" Xander knew he'd seen Oz's van outside. "Where'd he go?"

"Out," Spike gestured towards the door - the bluff - and Xander cautiously parted the blinds to look out. Oz was nowhere to be seen.

"I don't - "

"You wouldn't, pet. He went all wolfy. Red seems ta bring it out in him."

"Oh." Xander slumped down in a chair, watching Spike, who stabbed the cigarette out with unnecessary force then toyed with the mug of blood in front of him.

"What's the matter, Spike?"

"Hmmm? Oh - just... Those two. Really fucked with the wolfling. Went on and on about comin' here an' how I can't be trusted and how you been actin' weird and what did the soldiers an' the doctors do..." Spike stopped abruptly and lit another cigarette but didn't smoke it - held it in his fingers and watched the smoke. Xander figured that the last question - what the soldiers and doctors had done - was what was bothering Spike the most. The vampire certainly didn't care one bit about being 'trustworthy', and any opportunity to separate Xander from the Slayer and her gang would only make Spike happy, not all... Is he...mad? More like - brooding. Huh. Angel Jr. Better not say THAT out loud Xander smirked at the thought, then sobered. He got up and got the bag of Chinese food from the counter and grabbed some plates out of the cabinet.

"Well, they'll know better next time. Nobody got - hurt, did they?"

"Nah, more's the pity." Spike lifted his head, nostrils flaring. "Wolfling's back." A moment later, there was a scratching at the door, and Spike retreated to the bedroom while Xander opened the kitchen door. Honeyed light flooded in and Oz with it, russet fur glowing in the light. The wolf sniffed at Xander's work-stained jeans then trotted into the bedroom, claws clicking on the hardwood floor. Xander shut the door, and a moment later giggled when he heard Spike's voice.

"Oi! Get off! That's bloody cold!" Spike came back into the kitchen, wiping his cheek with his hand and shooting a disgusted look back towards the bedroom.

"Damn mongrel," he muttered, but his bad mood seemed to have lifted and he dug into the bag of Chinese with gusto. Xander went over to the sink to wash his hands, and then got a soda out of the 'fridge. When he turned back to the table, Oz was there, back in human form; flannel pants and thermal shirt, barefoot, his henna-washed hair sticking up in spikes and a grin on his face.

"Oz. You look better. Soda?"

"Sure." Oz sat down, watching Spike open boxes in his search for dumplings. Xander pushed his unopened soda across the table and got another one for himself and a beer for Spike.

"So - feeling better, I guess. Did you have a good run?" Xander gestured out towards the bluff and the sea, and Oz opened his soda, lapping at the drops that spilled over the edge.

"Yeah. It was nice. Guess I'll have to apologize to Giles and Willow later - " Spike snorted, pouring soy sauce and then blood over his plateful of rice, dumplings, sweet and sour chicken, and egg rolls.

"Don't owe them fuck-all, mate. They should'a known better. Tell 'em keep their poxy questions and leave you be." He stuffed a dumpling in his mouth and chewed, eyes golden, and Oz shot Xander a look.

"Well, that's an option too." Oz said as he and Xander filled their own plates. For a while there were only the sounds of eating and drinking. The sun crept below the horizon and the kitchen got darker, and Xander lit two new candles for the table and opened the door, letting the cool ocean breeze blow into the house. Spike, finishing first, shoved back from the table a little bit and lit a cigarette, smoking slowly, eyes on the distant, heaving sea.

"S'nice, bein' by the sea like this. Me an' Dru had a house in Casablanca, near the Medina. Used to sit up on the roof, right before sunrise and watch the sea... Dru loved to go down to the beach, lay in the sand when it was still warm from the day..." He drank his beer, lost in thought, and Oz leaned his chin on his hand, watching him.

"Sounds nice. When were you in Morocco?"

"Hmmm? Oh - right after the Blitz started. We stayed there 'bout a year. Then came over here for a while. It got...thin, down there, during the war." His eyes were dark, and Xander wondered if these memories were painful because of Dru, or because of something else. Oz just seemed enraptured, ready to listen all night.

"New York was better - we had fun there. Hell's Kitchen, Greenwich Village, Chinatown..." Spike glanced up at Oz - at Xander, and smiled. "Even got a bloody gang named after us..."

"Oh right! The Capeman murders!" Oz said, and Xander shot him a look.

"What?"

"Gangs and stuff - the Vampires and the...Nordics."

"How do you know this stuff?" Xander asked, getting up and gathering plates. Oz shrugged, stuffing empty cartons into the bag they'd arrived in.

"I did a lot of reading, locked up in the cage at the library. Sometimes - you guys were kinda late, getting there."

Xander paused, thinking about it. "Yeah. I guess we were. Kinda sucked for you, huh?" Oz shrugged again, getting up and pushing the bag into the trash can.

"No big deal." He yawned, stretching - froze in mid-stretch and backed away from the door. At the same moment Spike was on his feet and growling, the demon's eyes flaring yellow fire in the candle-glow. Oz seemed to waver, eyes going black, his teeth lengthening, and then human again, looking back and forth between the door and Spike.

"What is it - " Oz whispered, moving closer to Spike, shivering.

"It's - him...that..." Spike snarled, back tight against the wall, and Xander felt almost sick, his heart was pounding so hard.

Jack? Is it Jack? What the hell is he? Why are they so freaked out?

This could have been a major miscalculation, Harris the soldier grumbled. Xander wiped his hands on his jeans and walked slowly towards the door. The hyena didn't seem to notice whatever it was that had set the others off. Xander could feel the power, but it didn't seem to threaten or frighten. Just...be there, like a subtle smoke. He stood in the doorway, looking out over the porch, into the dense shadow of the eucalyptus that stood near the stairs. Beyond was grass dotted with low bushes, and the bluff; a sharp edge of darkness against a sky silvered with moonlight. Something - moved. And then Jack was there, at the foot of the stairs, grinning up at Xander. Xander jerked back, startled. The bloodied and torn denim jacket was gone, replaced by a leather bomber jacket so cracked and worn it looked like it had survived a kamikaze flight. The jeans and undershirt were the same, the sneakers still patched with duct tape.

"Xander," Jack said, voice low, and his eyes sparked red through the tangled hair.

"Jack." Xander whispered. He backed away as Jack climbed the steps, and from behind Xander rose a sing-song wail, a hideous sound. It was Spike, and Xander crossed to him, unsure if he should touch him, or even speak to him at this point. The hyena reacted to that, a shiver deep down. Hunting... Circle the pack...pack... Oz was crouched down, panting, his eyes black and his clawed hands digging into the floor, splintering it. Spike was head down, ready to spring - although Xander couldn't tell if he'd attack or run.

"Spike? It's ok, Spike. Calm down. You're kinda freakin' me out. Spike?" Jack stood in the doorway, his leather knapsack over his shoulder.

"Fuck. Spike? Oz? Can you guys..." Xander put his hand out and tentatively took hold of Spike's shoulder. The vampire was shaking, his body tight as a bow-string, and Xander gently rubbed his shoulder, creeping his hand slowly to the back of Spike's neck and rubbing, trying to get Spike to relax a little. The vampire hissed, snapping at him, but his hand shot out and grabbed Xander's arm, trying to get Xander behind him. In a minute Xander knew the vampire's grip was going to hurt both of them, and he tried to pull away. Spike yanked, and then was on his knees, clutching his head, still growling but panting in agony now, shuddering from nerves and pain and fright. Oz abruptly reverted to his fully human state and shot a lop-sided grin at Xander.

"We're both a little wigged, man. Let's get him up." Xander nodded and put a hand under Spike's arm, as did Oz, and they both hauled the vampire up. Spike staggered a step and slumped into a chair, and Xander hastily stepped between him and Jack, who was still in the doorway, watching them. Jack walked to the table and slung his knapsack on it, and lowered himself into a chair.

"So. Xander. You called, I came. I see you have...companions."

"Uh. Yeah." Xander pulled a third chair over close to Spike and sat in it, letting his thigh press up against Spike's under the table, keeping his hand on Spike's shoulder. Oz settled into the last chair, looking frankly curious, still shivering just a little.

"This is Spike - "

"William the Bloody," Jack said, and Spike's head came up, game-face again, fangs bared.

"I knew of you in Europe, oh...around 1895. So - you're here. And with Xander."

"What are you," Spike said, and his voice was flat calm. Utterly devoid of expression and deadly quiet. It made Xander flinch, but Jack laughed, and made a motion with his hand, and suddenly he was in the tatty velvet jacket, feathers in his hair, and his eyes glowed. Oz gasped, eyes going wide, and Spike sat upright, glaring at the man.

"What did you - " Xander wondered wildly for a moment if Jack had given them all that power of seeing.

"I just let them see me as you do - took away the glamour. Now do you know, vampire?"

"I know. Leave Xander be. Cancel your debt." Jack laughed again, and settled himself back in the chair. Xander gaped at Spike. What the hell? What the FUCK is going on... Xander almost spoke but then waited, wanting to know what Jack would say.

"Why would I do that? I owe him - he only has to ask. No strings."

"There's always strings with your kind." Spike dug his fingers into the table, his fingernails leaving gouges. Xander winced. Maybe I should have seen Jack alone, first. Fuck

"No strings this time." Jack cocked his head a little, then stretched his arm out across the table, palm up.

"Try it - test me. You know you can." Jack stared at Spike, utterly serious now, and Spike stared back. Jack reached with his other hand and put his fingernail to his wrist, and slit the skin with an easy flick. The blood welled up immediately, darkly glittering, and Spike and Oz both scented it, nostrils flaring. Xander even thought he detected something - a dark, earthy scent, old and powerful.

"No strings. Just a debt paid." Jack leaned forward, bringing his arm even closer, and Spike reached out and gathered the welling of blood onto his finger and touched it to his tongue. Spike shut his eyes, shivering all over, and licked all the blood away in a single, sensuous move. His hand dropped to Xander's thigh under the table and gripped it tightly. And he laughed.

"Fuck, mate. Wouldn't have to eat for a month, if I got one of you." Spike was grinning now, suddenly relaxed, and Xander couldn't keep quiet anymore.

"Oookay, I would really like to know what's going on here. And why I wasn't nearly as - wigged out as you guys were. Care to explain? Jack? Spike?" He looked from one to the other, and Jack smiled again, seriousness gone. He licked the blood on his wrist and the cut vanished, healed.

"You have another of those beers, Xander? The last one was pretty good."

"Sure..." Xander stood up and got two - hesitated, and grabbed two cold ones out of the 'fridge. He put the imported beers down for Spike and Jack and the others for himself and Oz. Oz smiled faintly.

"Ok. Somebody talk." Xander opened his beer and drank, waiting, pressing his thigh and calf against Spike's, itching to do more but not wanting to distract anyone from explaining what was going on.

"You tell, Grandfather. Not my place." Spike smirked, drinking his beer, and Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Grandfather?"

"Suits you, mate." Spike leaned back, casual, but his thigh trembled against Xanders' under the table.

"Huh." Jack drank as well, then set the bottle down and looked at Oz, then Xander.

"You children have heard fairy stories, I'm sure. Leprechauns and will-o-the-wisps and all manner of...otherworldly things."

"Hellmouth. Pretty much got 'otherworldly' comin' out of our ears here." Xander said, watching Jack watch him.

"That's so. Salt?" Xander rose silently, got the salt, set it down, then sat back down, eyes still fixed on Jack. Jack poured salt out into his palm - funneled it into his beer and licked the rest away.

"Well, they are real too, those things. The little folk. The fair folk. Bogarts and the Banshee and all manner of...creature. The Seelie Court. And the UnSeelie, as well."

"And the tithe to hell, eh Sidhe?" Spike's eyes were narrow, watching Jack, and Jack smirked at him.

"You'd know about hell, wouldn't you, vampire? But yes, the tithe to hell, for some, sometimes. It's all...negotiable." He waved his hand in a vague gesture, and drank another mouthful of beer.

"Well, the Seelie Court is home to the queen and king - sometimes they're called Titania and Oberon. They're the Fair Folk." He grinned at Spike, his eyes going narrow. "I'm not."

Xander felt a chill go through him at that, but Oz had a strange look on his face.

"Elves, you mean? Fairy?" Jack grimaced.

"Those words are...let's use the vampire's, shall we? Sidhe. Yes."

"Shee," Oz echoed. Xander was staring.

"Elves?"

"Yeah, those folk. Only this one won't be fixin' your shoe or cleanin' your house, pet. Or gettin' up to lighthearted romps in the woods with maidens and boys. This kind - "

"Let's leave that where it lies, shall we?" Jack interrupted. "As for your - companions' reactions... Well, we're quite a bit older then demons and werewolves. They tend to react badly to their elders." Spike snorted, and Jack grinned at him. "Humans, on the other hand... There are, shall we say... complications, in our dealings. We're no threat to you unless you let us be. Now, vampire." Jack switched his gaze from Xander back to Spike. "You tasted - you know I'm not lying, or trying to trick Xander. And I have no claim over you or the wolf. So let's be...friends?" Jack looked at Spike from under lowered lashes and Xander felt a tremor go through the vampire, and Spike hissed, eyes flashing gold.

"Let's be gettin' on with it, mate." Spike drained the last of his beer, setting the bottle down deliberately, carefully, and Jack copied him.

"Let's, then." Jack looked at Xander, solemn now, his eyes glowing even without the seeing.

"I owe you a debt, you called me to you to pay it. Name your price." Xander felt Jack's power slide over him - surround him - like an invisible smoke. It made the hairs rise on the back of neck. He gasped in a sharp breath, and Oz did the same. Spike just growled, low, and Xander could feel it tremor through his body.

"Can you - can you see what's inside Spike? That...thing." Jack cocked his head, looking at Spike, the power coming off him in almost tangible waves now. He recoiled, his face flashing for an instant into something else - not the homeless man, or the man in the velvet coat. Something...far darker.

"What. Is. That." he grated out, and Xander exhaled sharply.

"You can see it? It's...a computer chip. This military group - they captured him. Opened up his head and stuck that thing in there. It hurts him if he tries to hurt any human - if he...tries to feed." Xander watched Jack - watched a look of revulsion cross his face, and then speculation.

"Military?"

"Yeah. The government. They had Oz, too - tortured him." Jack ran an appraising eye over Oz, who looked back, his gaze mild, his fingers laced tightly together on the table-top.

"But the wolf is free of...things. Little spiders, pumping venom."

"Yeah. Just a spot of the old Spanish Inquisition for the wolfling," Spike muttered.

"I can see it. I'm thinking you want me to do...something...with that."

"Yeah. I do. I want...want Spike to be able to defend himself. To feed. I want that thing out of him." Jack looked at him, then back at Spike, tapping his fingers on the table-top.

"I can...break it. Getting it out would - well, it's not possible. But it's just - elements. I can manipulate those. And this is a good night for it."

"Why is that?" Oz asked, and Jack shot an amused look at him.

"It's Ostara - the Equinox. Night and day, the same length. A good night for things to be put back into balance." He looked at Spike again, and the grin came back, wide and rather feral, the eyes sparking red behind his mane of hair. "It's gonna hurt like fuck," he said. Spike laughed.

"I'd be disappointed if it didn't, mate." He stood up, bouncing just a little on the balls of his bare feet. "Where d'ya want me?"

"Wait - hurt?" Xander stood also, looming over Jack. "Why do you have to hurt him?"

"Some things hurt, Xander. He'll be alright. Vampires, they're tough. And he'll be himself again. Which is what you want. Right?" Jack looked up at him, all innocent except for the hell-shot red of his eyes, and Xander felt a surge of fear go through him. Oh damn, Spike's right, he has power and to spare and what if he - what if he fucks him up, what if he...fuck, FUCK

"Jack..."

"It's alright, love. I tasted his truth. He won't trick you. But don't ever count on that again. Let's get this done, Sidhe."

"Outside would be best, I think." Jack rose and went, and Spike followed. Xander stood in the kitchen, staring after them until Oz stood also and came and put his hand on Xander's shoulder.

"It'll be ok, Xander. But man, you owe me a story." Xander stared down at Oz and a hysterical giggle escaped him. He clapped his hand over his mouth but another bubbled out before he could calm himself.

"Fuck, Oz, I...I just want Spike to be - to not be afraid anymore. Fuck I hope this works." They both just looked at each other for a minute, and then they went outside as well.

Jack was sitting on the ground about ten yards away from the house. Spike was lying on the ground in front of him, on his back. His hands were clenched into fists, and he was staring upwards, face rigid. His eyes kept flickering to gold, and Xander wanted to sit with him; hold his hand, touch his shoulder, kiss him. But he didn't think Jack would let him do that, so he went down the stairs and across the grass, Oz beside him, and settled cross-legged a few feet away.

"All right then?" Jack asked. Xander nodded, and Jack closed his eyes. His hands rose from his lap and settled lightly on Spike's head, where the chip was. He began to make a soft sound in his throat - like humming - but it was deep and strange, wild-sounding. It made Xander shiver, and beside him Oz fidgeted, growling.

Green sparks and lines began to fade up out of the grass all around Jack. They hovered over him, swirling and dancing, tracing the lines of his body until he was encased in a shifting, transparent shroud. His fingers seemed to sink ever so slightly into Spike's skull, and Spike went rigid, his eyes and mouth opening wide. He gasped in a breath, and started to scream, but the light swirled around his face, covering it, going into his mouth, and all Xander heard was a thready whine that seemed to go on and on.

Jack was frowning, still humming, his wrists making tiny movements, and his fingers sunk further away.

Xander ground his teeth together, a helpless, sick feeling twisting his gut; he was gasping for breath, his fingers twisting in the grass. That sound - the sound Spike was making - seemed to shiver through him like nails on a blackboard. It hurt, somehow, down in his bones. He felt Oz's hand touch his knee, gripping, and he realized he was crying.

Spike's fingers had dug into the dirt, knuckle deep, and he was arched like a bow, his body straining off the grass. Suddenly the light around Jack flickered to yellow - white - and was gone, leaving Xander and Oz blinking, half blind. Spike's body sagged in sudden release and his head lolled, eyes shut. He was unconscious.

Jack was bowed over, gasping, and Xander struggled up, crawling on his knees to Spike and pulling at him. He sat back, cradling Spike's head on his thighs, stroking his fingers through the stiff hair. Laying his palm on Spike's cheek he realized it was wet with tears.

"Is it - what did you do? Is he going to wake up?" Xander wiped at his own face, brushing off moisture. Jack pushed himself upright, and he was haggard, drawn. Whatever he did to himself to look like a homeless man - the glamour - was working erratically. The real Jack kept showing in flashes and fits, making Xander dizzy.

"I broke it. It was only silica and metal. A spider with golden legs and a crystalline body, sending out pain along its web. Crouching there..." Jack coughed, wiping his mouth, and looked down at Spike. "I made it draw its legs in - made them knot. Changed it. It's nothing but a bead of gold and glass now. It would make a pretty charm." Jack smirked, then his eyes rolled up in his head and he fell back onto the grass. Xander just stared at him, then down at Spike. The vampire was motionless. He looked to be made of salt in the cool slant of the moonlight, his brows like slashes of ink, his hair glowing. He was unearthly and utterly beautiful and Xander leaned down and kissed him, breathing his scent of leather and smoke, blood and spice. He heard Oz moving closer, and looked up to see him settling near by, eyes wide and amazed.

"Xander. That was..."

"Yeah. Do you think...do you think Spike needs blood?" Xander pulled Spike up a little higher on his thighs, wrapping his arms around him, Spike's head on his chest.

"I dunno. Let's wait a minute and see." Oz glanced over at Jack, who was still shivering in and out of focus. The green light was back, much subdued, and it crawled over Jack like thin worms, weaving a veil that seemed to anchor him to the ground. Xander turned away from Jack to Spike, stroking his hand over and over the vampire's hair.

"Spike, wake up now. Jack did it, he fixed it. Come on Spike, open your eyes and look at me, love. Spike...wake up...please, Spike..." Xander could hear the tremble in his voice, and he tried to calm himself, taking deep breaths. He hugged Spike to him as tightly as he could. He felt Oz's hand on his back, rubbing lightly. Spike, please, please. You've got to wake up, love… The cool body in his arms jerked suddenly, and Xander lifted his head, looking down. Spike twisted weakly in his grip, squinting his eyes tight, and a low moan came out of him.

"Spike! Hey, you ok? Spike - love - talk to me..."

"Bloody hell," Spike said. His voice was a thread, broken and rasping, and he winced and tried to swallow. "Need a drink, mate," he mumbled, and Oz scrambled up and went into the house. He came out a few seconds later with a beer - his or Xander's, it was half-empty. He knelt down and put it in Spike's hand. Xander propped him upright and Spike took a long drink, rubbing his throat.

"Ah...fuck. That was fuckin' horrible." Xander wondered if he meant the experience or the beer. His voice wasn't much better, but he seemed able to talk a little easier. "Ohh, my head..." Spike opened his eyes finally, and Xander felt a moment of panic when they tracked on nothing at all, dazed. Then his gaze sharpened, and Spike looked up at him.

"Did it work, pet?"

"I - I dunno. Jack seemed to think it did. I guess - you'll have to test it." Xander helped Spike to sit up all the way and the vampire groaned and held his head. Oz went back into the house, and Xander heard him rummaging around. Spike just huddled there, rubbing his temples, and Xander held him, kissing his shoulder, his hair, rubbing small circles at the small of his back. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the light web fade from around Jack, and he too, struggled to sit up, looking unhappy and rubbing his forehead. Oz came back outside with a mug and handed it down to Xander.

"Figured he might need a little - help him knock the pain back." Xander sniffed - found blood. Spike was already blindly groping for the mug, so he held it for him, easing it up to his mouth. Spike drained it rapidly and then sat for a minute, waiting. Xander laid the mug aside in the grass and kissed Spike's temple.

"Better now? Can you get up, do you think?" Spike straightened abruptly, and Xander saw his mouth curling in a smile.

"Oh yeah. Better. Thanks, mate." Spike nodded to Oz, who nodded back. "So, did it work, Sidhe?" Spike asked, climbing slowly to his feet, leaning on Xander. Jack was still sitting, hunched, and he squinted up at the three of them and then held out a hand. Spike leaned and hauled him upright with a jerk, and Jack yelped.

"Fuck it, vampire, have a care! I reckon it worked. This miserable place - makes it harder to do things. You should test it. " Jack stumbled past them and into the house, and after a moment the other three followed, Spike leaning on Xander and Oz snatching up the bloody mug from the grass.

"Sit down and have a little more blood first, Spike."

"Aye, blood, and put this in." Jack was slumped in a chair, rooting through his knapsack. He pulled a bulbous brown clay bottle out. It was stoppered and tied much like the little pot of salve had been, and Jack picked at the coarse twine, undoing it with shaking fingers. Xander guided Spike back to his own chair, then sank down gratefully as Oz fixed another packet of blood. Jack finally got the twine off and uncorked the bottle, and a scent wafted out - sharp and alcoholic but overlayed with a warm smell of honey and almonds and something like clean, green grass. It was heady and delicious, and Xander's mouth watered for it. Spike's head came up, nostrils flared, and Jack smirked at him.

"Ever had any, vampire?" he rasped, and Spike shook his head. "In for a treat, then." Oz put the mug of blood on the table and Jack poured a generous dollop of the stuff into it. It was dark gold, and seemed to glow in the candle light.

"Some all round - get more cups, eh?" Jack said, and Xander pointed to the right cabinet for Oz, who got three glasses down and settled finally into his chair.

"What is it?" Oz whispered, and Jack laughed.

"It's the nectar of the gods, wolf. It's...blood of virgins and honey from the rock, it's manna and moonlight and all manner of things: Currants and gooseberries,
Bright-fire-like barberries,
Figs to fill your mouth,
Citrons from the South "

Jack grinned at them, pouring a measure into each glass - more for himself, Xander noticed, but didn't really care. Jack set the bottle back on the table and picked up his glass - raised it a few inches, his expression going solemn for a moment.

"Slainte," he said, and they echoed him, "Slawncha." And drank. The drink was cool on Xander's tongue - and then hot, sparkling with little prickles of mint and cinnamon and cloves. The path it traced to his belly was fiery, and a rush of prickling, delicious heat washed through him. He gasped, his eyes tearing, and Spike threw back his head and howled, laughing. Oz closed his eyes and laughed too, and Xander had to join him. Jack just grinned at them, re-corking the bottle and re-wrapping the twine, his eyes sparking red again, his bomber jacket back.

"Oh, that was good, mate. No wonder you lot don't share." Spike drained the last of his blood and wiped his hand across his mouth. He looked at Xander, eyes sparkling.

"Gotta know, pet. Gotta test this." Xander looked back at him and nodded, holding out his hand. Please let this work. Fuck. And if it does...he might go. For good

Or kill us all, Harris

No. Pack. We'll survive Xander waited, and Spike grasped his hand. The vampire squeezed, tentatively at first, and then harder, and suddenly pain shot through Xander's fingers as they were ground fiercely together.

"Fuck! Ease up!" Xander jerked his hand away, then froze, staring at Spike. Who stared back - who began to laugh, slightly hysterically. He leapt to his feet, knocking his chair back into the wall and roared. The demon lowered his face to them, eyes ablaze.

"I'm free. I'm back. William the Bloody is alive and well." He laughed again, and the lucent golden eyes flashed at them, eerie, otherworldly. Jack rose also, shoving the bottle back into his knapsack and hoisting the knapsack onto his shoulder.

"Then I am done here. This place - drags at me. I'm for the bonny road, me." He turned and began to walk out the door. Spike took a step after him.

"I'll remember this, mate." Jack turned around and looked at him as the demon sank away. Spike's blue eyes were serious, calm and intent, and Jack nodded once.

"You may have to...Spike." He grinned, suddenly jaunty, and strode out the door and away, vanishing like a ghost into the shadow of the eucalyptus. Spike pounced on Xander, pulling him to his feet and kissing him devouringly, deeply. His hands worked up under Xander's shirt and caressed his back and Xander melted into him, tasting the blood and lingering flavor of Jack's drink, breathing deeply of the heady scent that was just Spike. Oh, love you, love you, please don't let this end...don't leave me, Spike, don't... Xander finally pulled away and Spike smiled at him - a smile full of love and desire, joy and excitement.

"Love you, pet. Love you so much."

"Love you too, Spike. I'm - I'm glad it worked." Spike's eyes darkened a little, and Xander leaned down and kissed him gently. "I am glad it worked. I love you...nothing's changed that... nothing will." Spike hugged him fiercely and then he was gone, into the bedroom, and Xander knew what he was doing. He slowly sat back down, glancing ruefully at Oz who had sat silent all this while. There was a strange mix of fear and compassion on Oz's face, and he made a little gesture with his hands, shrugging.

Spike came back out of the bedroom, Docs on his feet and practically ran into the living room to grab his duster. He snatched his cigarettes and lighter from the table and lit up, then stood staring down at Xander, his face serious, his eyes alight.

"I have to, pet. I have to know...for sure. And...I just...I bloody well have to."

"I know you do, Spike. I really understand. Just...fuck... Don't make it so I have to identify any bodies tomorrow, ok? I don't think I could stand that." Spike bent and kissed him, hard, his free hand tangling in Xander's hair.

"Promise, love," he whispered. He straightened and looked at Oz. "Keep an eye on him, right mate?" Oz nodded, and with a last look at Xander, Spike was gone. Xander looked down at his hands, noticing he was clenching them so tightly that his fingernails were starting to cut into his palms. Oz got up and got two more beers out of the 'fridge and settled back into his chair.

"You really need to tell me the whole story, Xander. I think we've got all night, don't you?" Xander looked up at Oz and smiled into his calm, green gaze. He nodded and took a small sip of the beer, and began.

"It started probably three years ago - you weren't a Scooby yet. When Spike was at the school that time, the parent-teacher thing? Well, Angel had this really great idea..."

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