Something Rich and Strange

by
Tabaqui

16 Details

Xander lay on his back in bed, his mind only half-awake and his body not even close.  Something had woken him...  Ah.  The shower.  Spike was back.  Xander shifted in the bed a little, letting himself drift.  In a few minutes there'd be cuddling and quite possibly sex, and he grinned in anticipation.  Squinted at the clock and saw it was only 4 a.m.  Spike was back early.  Did that mean he was hurt?  Xander's eyes opened wide in the darkness and the sleepy languor left him.  Love what hurt   he sent, and what came back was the mental equivalent of an eye-roll.  Xander giggled and slipped out of bed, the exhaustion and strangeness of the past twenty-four hours completely gone.  He padded into the bathroom, looking for clues.  The duster was hung up, as usual.  Not dripping blood, that's good   Docs there - one upturned sole showing the beginnings of a hole. Needs to get those re-soled, again.   Spike's clothes were in a tangle near the washing machine and Xander picked them up.  Jeans - whole but bloody.   Over shirt - torn and damp.  Xander touched a finger to a damp place on the red silk and grimaced when it came away smeared with blood.  T-shirt - definitely shredded - in fact, garbage.  Xander tossed it into the trash, dropped the rest of the clothes back to the floor and turned to the shower.

Spike stood in the stall, arms crossed, grinning at him, the open door dripping onto the floor and a bank of steam eddying out.  Something on his body - blood?

"Got me all sorted then, love?"  Xander grinned back and stepped into the shower, gasping a little at the temperature Spike had the water set on.  He pulled the door shut and immediately began to feel a little breathless from the steam.

"You're back early.  I wondered if you were hurt.  And - you are!"  Xander grabbed Spike's wrists and pulled his arms away from his body.  Underneath were two sets of deep, parallel scratches, still oozing just a bit, a crisscrossing V-shape from collarbones to navel.

"What happened?"  Spike pulled Xander closer, resting his forehead on Xander's and sighing.  Uh oh.  This is the 'I love you lots I did something you'll hate' pose.  What now?

"Spike..."   Tell tell love you

"Went and collected my 'leven pounds, didn't I?"

"Eleven...pounds?  What?"  Now Xander got the actual eye roll and he put his hands on the tiles on either side of Spike's head and leaned into the vampire's body, pressing his groin lightly to Spike's, letting his tongue find the strong tendon of Spike's neck.  Need already coursing through Xander, making him hard.  Spike shifted, hands on Xander's hips, and drew in a small breath.  "Tell me, Spike, before I haf'ta...torture it out of you."  Xander bit lightly at Spike's neck, right above his collarbone, and Spike shivered, his fingers tightening down, his head going back into the wall with a soft thump.

"Poncey bastard owed me, ssso I went to c-collect..."  Xander continued to nibble and lick - softer, harder, his hips keeping up a firm pressure.  He felt Spike's erection pressing insistently at his, and he did the little hip-roll thing, eliciting a breathy moan from the vampire.

"What bastard?  What eleven pounds?  How'd you get the cuts?"  Xander bit down suddenly on Spike's throat - on the jugular - and held him, almost hard enough to break the skin but not quite.  Spike arched fiercely into him, his hips pumping mindlessly, and Xander shook him, just a little, letting the hyena have its fun.

Mine mine kill what did it mine

"Xan-derrrr..."  Spike moaned, and Xander bit a little harder, feeling his teeth sink in.  TELL

"Drac - that bastard - got my...p-pound of flesh, didn't I; got that bastard...please, please..."

Xander let go of Spike's throat - grabbed his shoulders and turned him, pushing him into the wall, running his hands down Spike's arms and capturing his wrists; lifting and pressing the vampire's hands against the tile, above his head.  Xander's own cock was throbbing with want, the hyena desperate to re-claim what was theirs, and the want want want coming off of Spike - the sub-sonic growl that was vibrating through Spike's chest - was pushing Xander over the edge.  He filled his palm with soap and roughly slicked himself - forced two fingers into Spike and groaned aloud when Spike surged backwards, ready and eager and please fuck now NOW  washing through him, a wave of desire and need that made Xander's knees weak.

Xander kicked Spike's legs further apart and then he was pushing in, forcing himself in, the pants and whimpers of mingled pain and pleasure only spurring him on.   He'd learned a lot about that, these past couple of weeks.  How much Spike could take - how much he needed to take, sometimes - and it no longer made him angry, or sick.  Now it was another turn on a wheel - soft and gentle, playful, passionate, brutal - and he wanted it as much as Spike did.  Wanted to claim what was his, however he could.  Rival   Someone else had touched what was his - hurt what was his, and he needed - the hyena needed - to wipe out all memory of that other; to re-establish its own supremacy over all others in Spike's life.  

Which was exactly the same reason Spike had done - whatever he'd done - to Dracula.

Xander surged forward and buried himself, and Spike moaned aloud - the moan going to a rising wail as Xander once again sank his teeth into Spike's throat and began to thrust furiously into him, hard as he could.  Which was damn hard, lately.  Spike was right - Xander wasn't like the other boys, anymore.

As he drove into him, Xander slipped one hand around and began to stroke Spike's cock, hard and tight, making it rough.  Spike was nearly silent now, gasping for one hard breath after another, his body like iron under Xander and his hips moving in helpless, furious counterpoint to Xander's.  The surges of want and lust that they were both sending to each other only made them more desperate - more frantic - and Xander felt the wave of fiery heat, like lightning, rippling through him as he neared orgasm.  Spike writhed under him  blood need  and Xander brought his arm up, pushing it against Spike's mouth.  They both bit down at the same moment; Spike's blood like champagne in Xander's mouth, alive and tingling with magic demon mine  Spike's fangs in his forearm, a point of heat and shuddering want that encompassed his whole body, and they both stiffened into orgasm, Xander groaning into Spike's neck, Spike snarling and growling like some kind of feral cat, the demon to the fore and his jaws locked down hard on Xander's arm.

It took long minutes to come down from that, and Xander just leaned on Spike, gasping harshly, letting his cock slip free by slow degrees, curling his arms around Spike's heaving ribs and resting his forehead on the water-warmed back.  He couldn't help his tongue going out to taste Spike, again and again, little licks that gathered in the spice and smoke of him - taste of unreal and unliving flesh that was everything mine always mine   Spike was mouthing the bite on Xander's forearm - soothing it with strokes of his tongue, kissing gently where he'd bitten so deeply a moment before.  That's gonna be sore  Xander thought fuzzily.        

Love you love you yours  from Spike, and he turned himself, gathering Xander into his arms, his eyes half-shut and the look of a satisfied cat on his face.  Xander kissed him, tasting blood and whiskey and Spike, content to just lean there and slowly re-learn every inch of Spike's mouth.    Xander had no idea how long they stood there, just lost in each other, lost in the feel and scent and taste of the other.  But Spike shivered suddenly, and Xander realized that the water was cooling off.

"Come on, love, let's get dry and get into bed and you can tell me all about your adventures tonight."  Spike snorted, shooting him a look, and they got out and dried off.  The cuts on Spike's torso had sealed, and were starting to fade - they'd be gone by the time Xander got home from work, he was sure.  But the sight of them brought another wave of mine mine KILL IT  from the hyena, and Spike laughed softly and pulled Xander into the bedroom, tumbling the human down into the rumpled covers and kissing him hard.

"Don't worry 'bout Drac, pet.  He'll be healin' for days - and on the move, as well, since I burned his fuckin' house down."  A brief wash of rage and glee from the demon and Xander shivered, wondering just what Spike had done.

"Why didn't he just - do the mist thing or the bat thing - get away from you?"  Xander squirmed around, getting the covers over them, and Spike settled behind him, pressing as close as he could, one arm under Xander's pillow, elbow bent and fingertips in Xander's hair,  the other curling around Xander's chest, held tight by Xander's own arms.  Spike buried his nose in the damp sable hair and inhaled.  love you smell good

"'Cause he's a wanker, that's why.  That gypsy shite is for the food - he wouldn't pull it on another vamp.  'Sides, he thought he could beat me."  Spike laughed, kissing the back of Xander's neck.  "He was pretty weak from tusslin' with the Slayer and still thought he could take me on.  He always did have more balls then brains.  An' I'm not above takin' advantage of a situation, neither."

Sick ones die the hyena insisted, and outsider from the demon.

"So - he's gone.  That's good."  Xander shuddered a little, remembering the feeling of being under Dracula's thrall - the otherness that had been like mist in his brain, drowning out his own thoughts and impulses, smothering everything into dullness.  Spike felt his unease and nuzzled closer, murmuring reassurances, and Xander closed his eyes.  Smiled, when he felt the bone-deep rumble of the purr start, Spike knowing how much Xander loved that.  Xander felt safe, there, enfolded and protected and love love and he let himself remember.

Xander walked beside Willow, heading for the cemetery - out on patrol - something he'd done with the gang so seldom lately it was almost strange.  The Initiative gone and Riley gone and back already, things settling into Hellmouth normal and he felt...all wrong, being there.  It was not pack and Xander wished he'd agreed to meet Willow somewhere else.

Willow was doing her hyper-drive double-speak thing, wringing her hands and going on about secrets - the reason he'd agreed to come out at all.  Willow had told him she had something important to talk about, and he was wondering when she was going to just blurt it out and say it.  She was terrible at innuendo and couldn't keep a secret to save her life.  Spike was off doing something nasty to some vamps that had been stupid enough to choose the old High School as their nesting place.  He was taking his Master of Sunnydale title seriously - at least for now.  He'd told Xander he wasn't going to kill every demon or vamp he came across, but he was going to keep the more foolish and foolhardy from messing with the Hellmouth.  No opening portals into demon dimensions and sending us all to Hell on MY watch, pet

By the time they got to the cemetery, Willow still hadn't actually said anything, even though she'd talked almost non-stop the whole way, and Xander was almost glad when Buffy warned them away.  But too late, whatever she'd been on about was suddenly there, and Xander found himself looking into a pale and dark-eyed face that held them all spellbound.  Dracula?  He really exists.  Who'd have thought?  But still, cheesy cloak.  That's SO last century.  Spike'll laugh...  Then Dracula was gone - or rather, was a bat - and they ducked and covered until he - it - flew, squeaking, away.  Huh.  Wonder if Spike can do that?  That's...fairly cool.  I'll bet Angel can't.

They spent the next hour at Giles' house, listening to Buffy rave about her apparent notoriety with the undead set; to Willow stammer about dark and penetrating eyes, and to Anya - who'd come by to borrow a book from Giles - about past dates with the Prince of Evil, or whatever.  Xander shared a look with Giles and Tara of mingled incredulity and amazement, and left when Riley and Buffy started to bicker about...something.  And I so don't care.  Dark Prince or not, even Buffy wouldn't go for a guy in a cape.    

Xander walked briskly back towards the cemetery - he was going to meet Spike at the vampire's old crypt, get the truck and go for a game of pool.  Friday night, and they had both felt like going out and doing something...mundane.   They were also going to talk about Oz.  Ever since the night the Initiative had gone down, Oz had been...  He'd been wrong, somehow, in a way Xander couldn't put his finger on, but that bothered both him and Spike.   The werewolf was quieter then ever, so serious, and he looked tired - looked haunted, as if his thoughts were too much for him.  He only seemed happy when they did their own patrols, and then he was more feral, more vicious, than Xander had ever thought the quiet boy could be.  Spike and Xander were both unhappy and uneasy, and were determined to fix it, whatever it was.  Xander entered the cemetery, something just on the edge of his awareness, making the hyena cast about, senses as open as possible.

And then...there was...   Xander found himself standing in the cemetery, hands lax at his sides, staring into space.  Something had...  He tried to think, retracing steps in his mind.  Willow-babble.  Dark Prince.  Giles' house.  Walking to the crypt...nothing.  A blank wall of mist - flickering images that made no sense.  A wolf Oz?  dark eyes, long-nailed hand just touching his cheek...  Xander shivered all over, wondering how long he'd been standing there.  He felt as if spiders were crawling on him and he brushed half-heartedly at himself. No...not spiders...nothing was...  
He couldn't seem to finish a thought, and he could feel, somewhere deep in his mind, the hyena going into full panic-mode.  But even that seemed dull and far away - wrapped in cotton wool and unimportant.  What was I...?    Spike.  He was going to meet Spike.  He'd left his truck parked near Spike's old crypt and they were going to...  Xander stumbled forward through the cemetery, bewildered, and finally the crypt was in view.  There was a faint light inside it - Spike had a lit a candle, it seemed, and Xander stopped outside the door, swaying just a little.  Inside he could hear voices - Spike and...Riley?  How long was I standing there?  I should...  He listened to the conversation but it only came through as a sort of low buzz - no words, just tone and cadence, and he finally turned away and wandered off - found his truck and sat in it, waiting.    A few minutes later Spike was there, leaning into the open window, grinning at him.

"I'm gonna kill Captain Cardboard, pet, you mind?" he said, gleeful and utterly serious.  Then, abruptly, Spike was wrenching the door open, dragging Xander out, and Xander was pushing at him, confused.

"What in hell is up with you?  Xander?"  Xander looked at Spike vampire and giggled a little, wobbling in Spike's fierce grip.

"He's gonna make me, you know, immortal.  Just get Buffy to him and - poof!"  Xander giggled again and Spike was game-faced, snarling.

"That bloody bastard.  Fuck, should have...  Come on, Xan-love, get in the truck."  Spike pushed him inside, digging his keys out of a duster pocket, and started the truck.  Xander rocked a little in his seat, humming to himself.  Spike vampire not the Master rival shot him glances of mixed fury and anxiety.  When they got to the house he hustled Xander up the steps and inside, startling Oz who was curled on the fold-out couch they'd acquired; something Tibetan and voiceless playing on the stereo, a book propped on his knees.

"What's up, guys?"

"Bloody Dracula.  He's fuckin' thralled Xander, the wanker."  Spike pushed Xander down onto the edge of the mattress and Oz dropped his book, eyes shifting from green to black and back again as he took stock.

"Dracula?  Wow.  Is - Xander hurt?"

"Nah.  Not hurt.  Just - under his spell, like.  That ponce's got the trick of it, almost as good as Dru."  Spike lit a cigarette and puffed hard, staring at Xander.  Xander watched him, hearing the hyena howling somewhere.   The hyena was trying to use the link, but the soldier was blocking it - blocking them all, and seemingly blocking Spike, as well.  

The soldier mumbled about infiltrators and perimeters and Xander felt as if he'd been re-set, somehow, or just...put on standby.  He wanted to get up, kiss Spike, go find Dracula and He promised.  Immortal.  Dark gifts...   A flicker of coiling mist, white on white, a blur of a face; red lips and chilled fingers on his jaw, scent of age and earth and something like burning, like lightning.  The crawly spidery feeling came over him again, and Xander jumped up, feeling his hands clench together, feeling his shoulders hunch as the skittering twitches washed over him.  He wanted to claw himself bloody, but the mist blinked across his vision again, drowning that thought, so he rocked instead, plucking at the hem of his shirt, rolling it in his fingers, twisting it.  

The Master was... chose him to be...  Xander thought he was talking, but he couldn't be sure.  He put his fingers to his mouth and sure enough, his lips were moving, his tongue.  He giggled at that and absently clawed his cheek, feeling spiders... no, not...

"Mustn't touch, mustn't touch..."  he sing-songed, and Spike stepped over to him and pulled his hand away.  

Dimly, he could hear Oz and Spike talking, then Spike was leading him into the kitchen, sitting him in a chair.  Xander stared at the candles in the middle of the table, lost in the flicker-jump of the flame in a moment, content to just stare.
  The dullness that had settled over him was horrifying - everything was muffled, except for that nasty sensation of bugs crawling over his skin.  He fought it, but it was like fighting mist - he couldn't get a grip on it.  Then something was pushing at his mouth - rim of a glass, and he drank without thinking, choking as he swallowed a huge mouthful of Spike's whiskey.  He coughed, gasping - felt someone pounding his back and then the glass again, and more of the fiery liquid burning down his throat.  He swallowed convulsively, Spike's voice murmuring in his ear, Oz's particular scent dark warm pine earth in his nostrils.  

After a bit the candle flames started swimming, merging, and he put his head down, shuddering.  It was - horrible.  His skin seemed to be trying to crawl off him and he couldn't touch mustn't touch and it was driving him crazy.   He clawed at the table-top, whimpering, and the mist again, a voice whispering  mine  But it wasn't Spike's voice and the hyena howled, frantic and furious, and Xander watched the mist darken to black, and then everything was gone.

When he came to himself he was in the corner of the living room, rocking unsteadily on his feet, his head pounding.  It was just sunset outside, and he hummed to himself, fingers tapping restlessly against his thighs, more of that babble coming out of his mouth but he couldn't stop it and Master wants her, wants her, have to go... she's chosen too, she's...  He sank his fingers into his hair, moaning, yanking furiously, and suddenly there were cool fingers on his wrists - on his hands - delicately prising his fingers apart and pulling his hands down, stilling them.

"Xander - love, don't.  What is it?"  Spike's voice not Master rival and Xander twitched away, looking dazedly around at Spike.  The vampire's face was drawn, exhausted, and his eyes red-rimmed.  Smoke and whiskey smell like a wall around him and even as Xander stood there, mute and uncomprehending, Spike snarled.  The demon came to the fore and then gone, and Spike looked over his shoulder at Oz, who was hanging up the phone.

"Buffy's at Anya's place - they thought that'd be safer.  Willow said Giles and Riley found a place, they're pretty sure it's Dracula's lair.  They're headed over there now."

Xander heard the words but all that he comprehended was Buffy - Anya's place...found the lair...Master needs her, have to go, have to go, have to GO!  He wrenched at the cool hands holding his wrists and Spike tried to soothe him, petting his face.

"It'll be alright, love -"

"Got to go, got to take her - let me go, letmeGO!"   They hyena was hysterical - Xander couldn't tell if it wanted to stay or leave, just felt the panic and it made it all worse, made the spiders worse, and he screamed, battering at Spike, knowing he had to go.

Suddenly Spike was gone - backing off, demon snarling but Oz there, too, hand on Spike's arm and saying something.  Spike hissed at him but then he nodded his head, a fleeting touch to Oz's shoulder, and they were still, watching him.  
Xander watched them back, uncertain, but the mist suddenly cleared, just a bit, and he saw dark eyes Master...wants and he knew Dracula was awake - was calling.  The sun was down.  Xander bolted, hearing the others behind him and not caring.  He headed for Anya's apartment, for Buffy get to the Master his lungs burning as he ran.  
The rest was a blur - Anya all suprised to see him, still talking about Dracula - Buffy hollow-eyed on the couch, watching him, Dracula's bite-mark dark on her throat.  Then Anya was... Hurt her? Didn't hurt her...in the closet and that was all right.  

Then he and Buffy were walking along the street, going towards a house It's a castle! that Xander had never seen before.  Xander could feel Spike somewhere behind him - the soldier couldn't block that, even though he tried.  But it didn't matter - Xander just needed to get there, and everything would be better, be better then, he'll give me...    They went inside, Dracula taking Buffy, and Xander felt himself relaxing, safe now until Riley was there, saying something and threatening the Master! and Xander launched himself at the ex-soldier, snarling.  Then pain exploding in his head, and nothing, nothing.

When he struggled awake, head throbbing, the first thing he saw was Spike hovering over him, eyes wide and anxious and golden, the demon barely leashed.

"Xander - you all right?  Xander?"  love you love you MINE   Xander struggled upright, Spike helping him, and he clutched at his head.

"Christ.  I feel... What did I - oh my god!  Is Buffy ok?  Is Anya - what did I -"

"Love, shh, it's all right, everyone's all right.  He's gone, gone for now, the Slayer got him."

"Oh, man..."  Xander felt his jaw, wincing, and Spike snarled.

"Riley, that fuck -"  kill him hurt you KILL HIM

"No, no, Spike, it's ok, I attacked him and he just - he was trying to save Buffy, it's..."  love you yours always HOME and Spike gathered him close, hugging him so hard he could barely breathe.

"I've got you now, love, got you now.  We'll go home, we'll -"  mine mine protect

"Ok, Spike, ok..."  Xander hugged him back - turned his head and caught Spike's mouth in a hard kiss.  

"Hey, guys -"  Oz's voice, quiet, and they broke apart.  Spike pulled Xander to his feet, steadying him, and Xander smiled at him, love you and turned to meet Giles and Riley and Buffy, coming through the door.

"Buffy!  You ok?  Did'ja get him?"

"Oh yeah.  Got him.  Got him twice, actually."

"Gypsy shite," Spike muttered, and Buffy frowned at him.

"Spike!  What're you doing here?"  Spike scowled back, going through the ritual of lighting a cigarette, the link thrumming with rage and hate, so strong that Xander felt his heart begin to pound.

"The boy was actin' all funny, me an' the wolfling thought we'd better keep an eye on him."  Spike blew a lungful of smoke in Buffy's direction and she shifted, hand clenching down on the stake she held.  "Thought you might need a little help with the ponce."  Spike made a vague gesture around at the castle with the cigarette.

"No, I didn't need any help, and Xander didn't need your help, either."

"Hey - the more the merrier, huh?  I can't believe he - thralled me!   I didn't - hurt anybody, did I?"

"Nah, you were fine, man.  We got you drunk last night, you were passed out for hours."  Oz grinned at him and Xander stared back.

"You did?  No wonder my mouth tastes like the bottom of a shoe."  calm calm love you  Xander pushed that hard through the link, and Spike, who had been pacing agitatedly up and down finally stilled, flicking his cigarette butt away.

"I think it's definitely time to call it a night.  Wouldn't you say, Riley?"  Giles was polishing his glasses and Riley grinned at him, gathering Buffy close into his arms.

"Yeah, I think you're right - I know you must be tired after your...encounter with the ladies of the night."  Riley sniggered into Buffy's hair and Buffy looked wide-eyed over at Giles.

"What?  Giles?  Did you have an...encounter?"  Giles flushed, fiddling with his glasses, finally putting them back on and straightening his shoulders.

"I was just about to - to stake them when Riley arrived -"  They wandered out, talking, and Buffy looked back over her shoulder.

               "You'll get Xander home safe, right Oz?" she called, and Oz nodded.  Then they were gone, and Spike immediately swept Xander up in another hard hug, kissing his neck and face, finally his mouth, slow and sweet and home want you love

"Yeah, let's go home."  Xander touched Spike's cheek, cupping it, and Spike rubbed into the contact, eyes closing.  need you

"So, why'd you get me drunk?"

"You were really freakin' out.  It seemed like a good idea."  Oz smirked at him and Xander pulled him close for a one-armed hug, still tangled with Spike.

"Thanks.  I think.  I need an aspirin and I need to brush my teeth and... these are the same clothes I was wearing yesterday.  Gah.  I need a shower."

"Need somethin' else, too," Spike murmured, rubbing against him, and Xander drew in a hard breath, scent of smoke and leather and spice, scent of Spike, and his body responded immediately - helplessly.

"Oh, yeah...I...  What about the Dusted Prince?  What did Buffy mean, she got him twice?"  They walked out, Xander pulling Spike as close as he could, Oz right there and Xander let his free hand linger on Oz's shoulder, not wanting to exclude him.

"Oh, his bloody Gypsy tricks.  He's not really dusted."  Spike glanced back at the castle, the demon flickering out and back, kill it surging through the link.

"Spike..."  Xander protested, but the hyena was raging, wanting some sort of revenge as badly as Spike did, and he let it go.   Don't care what he does  The soldier was uncharacteristically silent, and Xander caught a feeling of - embarrassment?  What the hell?  Have to find out what THAT'S all about.  But later...god...my head

They made their way home, Xander feeling as if he'd been in a boxing ring.  He'd fought Dracula's thrall every minute, and it had exhausted him.  Like fighting wet sheets, that clung and suffocated.  He stumbled through the door and home home  letting Spike manhandle him into the shower, almost falling asleep under the spray and the gentle caress of Spike's hands, his lips.  He managed to brush his teeth and then gone, out.  His last coherent thought was actually Spike's thought - protect family love you and then oblivion.  

             

Now, Spike in the bed with him, cuddling him close and telling him - telling him he was safe, that everything was all right.

"So he's really gone, this time?"  Xander asked again, and Spike stroked his chest, the grumbling purr vibrating through Xander's back.

"He's gone," Spike agreed, but mine mine was still shuddering through the link and Xander turned a little, looking at Spike in the growing dawn-light that was creeping in from the kitchen.

"What's wrong, love?" Xander asked, and Spike's eyes flashed golden for a moment, and then back to blue, wide and anxious, the purr petering out.

"Never would have happened if...if I'd had my mark on you.  If we'd..."

"You mean - the spell?  To make this… permanent?  You know I want to -"

"I know, pet, I know.  Not blaming you.  It's - it's me..."  Xander felt cold wash over him, felt a sudden, sickening feeling in his stomach like leaden ice.

Means it's me, it's me, doesn't want...should have guessed...

"Xander, love, hush.   I want you love you, don't think...  Bloody hell!"  Spike sat up, cross-legged, sinking his hands into his hair and scrubbing violently, as if it would clarify his thoughts.    Xander sat up also, cross-legged as well, waiting.  love you tell me

"This - spell, this claim.  There's some more stuff about it that I didn't tell you - couldn't tell you."

"What stuff?  Spike - "  Xander reached out and cupped Spike's cheek in his hand, rubbing his thumb lightly along the vampire's lower lip.  Spike closed his eyes, nuzzling into Xander's touch, and they were silent for a moment, just feeling, sending reassurance along the link.

"Spike, just tell me, ok?"  Spike's eyes opened and he looked at Xander, his gaze going over and over Xander's face love you sorry please don't leave  his need and his fear shivering through the link.  Xander let his hand drop to rest on Spike's, rubbing the knuckles, feeling the fine bones in the back of Spike's hand.

"Greyson said -"

"Who's Greyson?"  Xander lifted his right hand, Spike's left, to his mouth, letting his lips rest on the cool, bony knuckles of Spike's hand, letting his teeth just lightly graze them.  Spike shivered, his eyes flickering to gold and back.

"He was - this vamp me and Dru met in Casablanca.  He had a claim on a woman.  He told me about the spell - taught it to me.   This spell...it makes us - one.   You get - you get things from me.  You get immortality, of a sort."  Xander stared at him, his tongue licking over Spike's fingers and Spike hissed in a breath, watching him.

"Immortality - of a sort?  What's that mean? "

"It means - you won't age, Xander - not after a year or so.  You won't get sick, and you won't die of - of a heart attack or anything like that.  But - you can still die.  You can get hit by a bloody car and get your skull crushed - just like I can get staked, or burned.  But you'll change, pet.  My blood'll make you stronger..."

"Isn't it already?  I feel - different, since we - since the link.  The hyena -"

"It's stronger.  Or - more there, maybe.  Sometimes, when we patrol, you're eyes'll catch the light - they'll shine green."  Spike looked anxiously at Xander at that, and Xander felt his eyes going wide.

"Really?  Wow.  They are more there...  It's like - I can talk to them better or - or something.  They were kinda - faint, before.   Now - I can remember so much stuff about fighting and hunting.  It's - pretty cool.  I like that part."  Xander grinned at Spike, and Spike raised a small smile back, but there was still unease  fear in the link - and Xander rested his cheek on their clasped hands, looking at Spike  my love mine love you  silently urging him to not be afraid.

"How much stronger will I get, then?"

"Some.  Not much more.  You're still human.  Just - with extras."  Xander had to laugh at that, and Spike's eyebrow went up git

"Tell me what else, Spike.  Tell me everything."

"They'll know - your gang.  The Slayer for sure - Glinda for sure.  Red maybe, the Watcher maybe.  The wolf.  You'll feel different to them - more like me.  But you'll feel that way to every demon and vamp in the world, too.  They'll know not to fuck with you, 'cause that'll mean fucking with me."

"Well, that's a definite plus, Spike.  I mean - almost like a get-out-of-jail-free card.  No more demon magnet!  Unless - it doesn't mean extra magnetic - uh - demon-attracting qualities, does it?"  Spike grinned and reached with his free hand and pushed it through Xander's hair, tugging gently.

"No.  It'll mean - you'll be able to walk into Willy's and get a drink and nobody'll even look sideways at you."

"Ok then - that's a plus.  Supposing I actually want to get a drink at Willy's.  So far - two pluses:  stronger, and no more random demon attacks.  Oh wait, three pluses - I get to be with you forever."  That smile - the real one, and Xander couldn't resist kissing the softly curved lips.

"Ok.  Is that all?"  A twist of fear again, and Xander pulled his knees up, resting his chin on them.

"'Fess up, Spike."  Spike ducked his head - looked around the room for a moment and then got up off the bed.

"Half a mo, love," he said, and darted into the bathroom.  He came back a moment later with a paper cup half full of water and his smokes and lighter.  He put the cup on the bedside table and lit a cigarette - drew in a huge lungful of smoke and blew it out at the ceiling, watching it swirl away.

"The spell says...'one mind, one heart, one body'.  That means - we'll share things.  Like pain.  Like pleasure.  It'll be like the link, only - more.  You'll know if I get hurt - if I'm drunk, or tired, or...whatever."  Spike tapped ashes into the cup.  They sizzled faintly, and Xander wondered if he would have heard that noise two months ago.

"The sex'll be bloody brilliant."  Spike grinned, that 'wanna fuck you now' grin, and Xander blinked.

"Oh?  I see now - this is just a plot to get more sex, isn't it?"

"Got it in one, pet."  They grinned at each other for a moment, the break in the tension a palpable relief.  Spike took a last draw off his smoke and dropped the butt into the cup.

"If -"  Spike stopped, and regarded Xander for a moment, head to one side.  He was cross-legged again, hands clenched on his knees.

"If I die, or you do - the other won't live."

"I kinda don't think I'd care to live if you weren't there anyway, Spike."  Xander said softly, and love you always

"Yeah.  Me neither.  But it won't be pretty, love.  The one left alive'll...linger a bit.  It'll hurt."

"Death always does."  They were both silent after that never leave me from Spike, and Xander sent his love - his desire - as strongly as he could.  Reassuring as best he could.  What if I'm not enough?  What if - I've never been with anybody more then a few months - what if...he doesn't want me after...

"Xander…"  Spike ran his fingers back through Xander's hair again - his favorite thing made even better, now that it had grown so long.  "You'll always be enough, love.  Don't think that."  Xander smiled weakly, and nodded.

"I'll try and remember that.  It's just - I hope I can do this, Spike.  I hope I can - keep you happy, for so long.  What if -"

"Trust me, love?  You can.  You will."  Xander took a deep breath love you

"Anything else?  Any more?"

"One - more thing.  The...biggest thing."  fear again, a broken-nailed skittering down Xander's back, and he shivered.

"When we do this - we'll share - memories."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean - you'll remember everything that I ever did.  And I'll -"

"Fuck!  Really?  You mean - I'll know what you did - what you were like when - before you were turned?"

"Yeah, and...everything else, too.  What I did with Dru and Angelus and Darla - everything we did."  Spike looked utterly freaked out, and it finally hit Xander, exactly what he was saying.

"Oh.  Oh.  You mean - I'm gonna remember the people you killed and...what it was like to be in love with Drusilla and...all that."  Spike nodded, looking down, and Xander scooted closer, enfolding him in a tight hug.  After a moment he pulled away a little, making Spike meet his gaze.  "Remember - how?  I mean...  All the time?  Like...like having a movie in my head or something?  Or - what?"  Do I REALLY want to know - everything?  How he killed - how many - how much he loved Drusilla?  Do I want to know it all?  What if - what if I start to...forget me?  Xander knew Spike could feel his hesitation, and he knew he was hurting the vampire.  But he had to know.

"When we do it - the spell - we'll remember.  But after a couple of days - you'll have to try hard to know stuff.  Have to think about it like - like trying to remember a book you haven't read in a while or - how to do something you haven't done since you were a kid.  It'll be like - you watched a big movie about my life and you can see the details when you want, but mostly it'll just be in the background."  Spike had put his hands on Xanders thighs while he talked - was rubbing gently, up and back, along the outside.  It felt good, but Xander put his hands over Spike's and stopped him, just holding him there, the cool hands under his tense with fear.

"Damn."  Spike looked at him, startled. "You're gonna know all about - well, everything from when I was a kid and...all the really embarrassing stuff I've been hiding from you..."  Xander smiled at him, and Spike rolled his eyes, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Bloody hell, love, this is serious.  You -"

"I know it's serious, Spike.  What - what was she like?  That woman..."  Spike dug his fingertips just a little into Xander's thighs, kneading gently.  Thinking.

"She was - she was full of laughter, pet.  She thought everything was so...fun.  A grand adventure.  She was from Poland - very poor, she said.  Very strict.  Religious.  And then Greyson and she...  He thought she was beautiful - wanted to turn her but he got...distracted, I guess."

"Distracted?"  Spike raised a faint smile, but love you please please was in the link, sad and desperate, and Xander leaned forward and kissed Spike softly.  love you

"Yeah.  Distracted by her... well, just by her.   Just - wanted what she was instead of...what she might have been.   She was - I liked her, Xander.  She wasn't a vampire.  She wasn't - a demon.  She was herself.  Maybe more herself then she could have been if he'd never met her.  She had time, you know?  To do things and to - live.  And someone to live with her - love her - all the time."  Spike looked helplessly at Xander, the pain in his eyes as clear and sharp as broken glass - as ice over rushing, treacherous water.  

Xander could feel that pain - like a blade, twisting in him, and he closed his eyes and considered, for a long moment, what Spike was saying.

Not like I'm alone in here to begin with.  And it's not like the things that the soldier or the hyena want just...happen.  I control them - they're part of me but I'm still...ME.  How different would this be?  I wouldn't even be getting something that talks back, just...extras   He opened his eyes again, meeting Spike's gaze.

"Is it ok to say I'm scared, Spike?  'Cause I am.  I want this, so much - want you so much it hurts. I'm afraid I won't be me, anymore...  Will I still be - me?"  Xander knew his voice cracked on that last, and Spike pulled him close and just kissed him; aching-sweet, desperate, loving, and Xander let the touch and the scent and the feel of mine my own surround him - seep into him and carry him away.  He gave himself up to Spike for long, long moments, and when Spike finally pulled back love you please mine stay stay  Xander knew what he would do.

"You'll be yourself, love - I promise you that.   Just yourself.  Nothing can touch your soul, love - nothing can touch you - change you - unless you want it to."

"Then - we do it, Spike.  As soon as we can."   Spike just stared at him for a moment and then he smiled, and the relief that came from him was overwhelming.   Relief, joy, love.   Then Spike was kissing him again, laying him down on the bed, and there was an edge of passion in this kiss - the sweetness was still there, the love - but now there was want need and it sent a rush of shivery fire over Xander's skin.  To be wanted, so much...

Eventually, Spike pulled back and looked down at him.

"You really want to do this, love?  It's - a lot to give up."

"Exactly what am I giving up, Spike?"

"Your friends, maybe.  Your - human life."  Xander rubbed at the back of Spike's neck, where he'd held the vampire tight to him.  He met Spike's gaze, serious; reinforcing everything he said through the link, sending want you want this love you always as he spoke aloud.

"I won't miss being the punching bag of every demon in Sunnydale.  And as for the gang - I won't live my life to please them, or anyone.  Except you.    Oz knows - he accepts it.  And Tara does, and Anya.  I dunno about Buffy, or Giles - they're kinda hard-wired into the demon-equals-evil thing, and I don't know how much they can change.  Willow...  She's been my best friend all my life.  She'd be the one I'd really miss, if she - if she couldn't understand.  If she wouldn't.   But I want this, Spike.  I want it more then I've ever wanted anything."  Xander shifted under the vampire, one leg bent a little, settling Spike's lean belly and groin into the cradle of his own - pressing him close.

"I want you - want this - and you want this - that's the amazing part - that's the part that...freaks me out.  Not the link or the spell - but that you want me - just...me. "  Xander couldn't believe he'd said that, and now he waited for what Spike would say - nervous, even now, of hearing second place do for now only if we don't TELL anyone.  

How can you think that?  Can't you tell...  The soldier was incredulous and angry, and Xander shushed him.

"Course I do, love - course I want you.  You...you're..."  Spike gave up talking, pressing his face into Xander's neck and just thinking at him  beautiful sexy brave hearthfire  demonkiller builder laughter mine mine MINE

In moments they were moaning, writhing; Spike kissing Xander's mouth bloody, Xander raking his nails down Spike's back and the both of them hard, ready, desperate to take and be taken, to seal the pact in blood and sweat and semen, in gasping breaths and guttural cries, in the strain of flesh and muscle and bone.  Mindless, heedless of noise or damage or anything but the all-consuming desire to be one; the same flesh, the same breath, taken and consumed and wanted, in ways neither had ever been wanted or needed, before.

When Xander arrived at work two hours late, his split lip still swollen and his whole body stiff and sore, the look Manny gave him was long and considering, and Xander almost told him what he was going to do.  But then didn't, as Manny put his gnarled hand on Xander's shoulder, and nodded once, serious and silent.  Xander figured Manny knew, already.

Two days later, a Friday night, and Xander and Oz and Spike sat around the kitchen table, eating the stir-fry Oz had made, uncharacteristically silent.  Tonight.  Tonight the claiming, and Spike felt like he needed to go out and kill something.   He was beyond hyper, his senses amped up so high he thought he might lose it; the bloodlust and the need for Xander making a whole-body ache that he could barely tolerate.

Can't believe this, can't believe he's gonna... Oh, love you, love you, this is more than I ever...ever thought I'd get, more than I...  my boy, my own...  Spike couldn't keep his eyes off Xander - could barely refrain from touching him, taking him right here and who cared if the wolfling got an eyeful, he just needed -  

Calm calm love you  from Xander, like honey, like smoke; something warm and sweet curling through him, petting him from the inside and he closed his eyes, sinking into it.   Be mine forever, after tonight.  Mine and...never be alone, never be left behind, never...  Oh, love you love you   The same thing - a muddle of nerves and love and reassurance -  was coming from Xander, and Spike finally opened his eyes and got a smoke, staring sightlessly out into the darkness through the open kitchen door, taking deep breaths of the salt-laden air, scenting the warm salt sweet of Xander and the earth dark pine of Oz, the peppers and cooked rice and beef, the candle wax and the laundry soap and the blood from some small cut Xander had got at work, the swirl of spicy-green smells from the bag of herbs the wolfling had brought from the Magic Box - herbs for Claiming, I'm claiming him tonight, oh gods...  

Abruptly Spike stood up and paced outside, standing on the porch and watching the faint glimmer of the sea, listening to the booming of the surf and the insects in the grass and the dry rustling of the leaves of the eucalyptus.  The medicinal scent of that tree overwhelmed even the cigarette smoke and Spike breathed and breathed, trying to calm himself.   The demon was utterly silent - frighteningly so.  It wanted, so badly, and now Spike felt as if it were crouched somewhere down in him, waiting to pounce.

Don't hurt him, can't hurt him, you've got to make sure -

’Course we won't hurt him - it'll be... it'll be fine.  You'll see.

But when he...remembers...  Spike shuddered all over, putting his hands on the rail and bowing his head, breathing.

Know all our secrets, that's all...know everything and... we'll know him - HAVE him, here, inside, forever.  Never be alone, never be left, never...

He could still leave, could still...

NO, he won't, he won't...loves us, wants this...

MINE  the demon snarled, surfacing for one moment and then away again, and Spike stalked back inside and opened a cabinet - pulled out his bottle of whiskey and took a long, long drink.  The fiery liquor burned his throat - sent warmth coiling out from his belly, and Xander got up from the table and came and leaned into him, body to body, tucking his head down into Spike's neck and nibbling at his throat a little, where the mark would be.

"You alright?"  Spike set the bottle aside and put his arms around Xander, hugging him close.

"I'm good, pet.  We should - get started.  Gotta make the draught..."

"Yeah.  Ok.  Let's...get this cleaned up so we can..."  Absently, Xander stepped away and started clearing dishes, and Oz got up and silently joined him.  They'd asked Oz to stay, just in case.  With magic, nothing was ever sure, and they wanted him there if they needed help.  And to keep any unexpected guests away.  

Spike could smell sweat and nerves from the wolfling - he was as on edge as they were.  As the others cleared away the mess from dinner, Spike got the herbs out and began to prepare them, crushing them to near powder with a mortar and pestle, carefully sifting in the different components.  It was a spell so simple as to be laughable.  Greyson had passed it on to him with a small smile, knowing that one of Spike's line - Aurelius - would have no trouble with such a simple charm.  Simple is sometimes strongest  Greyson had said, and Spike agreed.  It didn't make him any less nervous, but at least it was an easy thing to do - nothing much to muck up.  Drink the potion, love his boy, take his blood, say the words.  That was all.   He glanced up at Xander, who was standing with a dishtowel in one hand and a glass dangling from the other, staring at nothing.  Oz gently relieved him of both, and set them on the counter.

"Xander, why don't you go make sure everything's set up in the bedroom, OK?   I can finish this."  Xander blinked - looked at Oz - blinked again and then nodded, stumbling away to the bedroom.  Spike felt the love afraid want love through the link and crushed more herbs, his hands shaking.

Fuck, gotta calm down.  This is gonna be fine, gonna be -  A hand on his shoulder stilled him, and he looked up into Oz's face; calm green eyes and small smile, waft of dish soap and wolf-smell and leather from the half-dozen braided bracelets around his wrist.

"You all right?"

"Bloody hell, wolf, I'm..."  Spike put his head down on his wrist, shivering, and Oz's hand moved, stroking his shoulder and back, gently kneading the tension-wracked muscles.

"Gonna be fine, Spike.  Gonna be fine.  I see you two - makes me... envious.  You love each other so much, and...this is going to be amazing..."  Oz's voice was soft, his tone one of utter calm, and Spike lifted his head and looked at the werewolf - really looked.  

Oh fuck.  This is - this is hurting him.  This is...gotta fix this, soon as Xan and me are...gotta fix this.

"Thanks, pet.  That - means a lot to me - to us."  Spike smiled at him - his real smile, as Xander would say - and Oz blinked and ducked his head and went back to the sink, wiping an already spotless counter, something else coming off him now; a scent of sadness and arousal that made Spike catch his breath.

We'll take care of you, wolfling.  You'll see.  Spike carefully dusted his hands and then went to the 'fridge, lifting down the small copper that he was to make the draught in.  It was filled with sea-water, and Spike set it on the stove, turning on the burner.

The sun's metal and the mother's blood, the living green that springs from the dust of the dead.  Roiled in air, drunk in darkness, spoken as one.  Give each of the seed, of the blood, of the vow, and it is done.  Hyt k'ku, hyt v'lyl, hyt hydu - one heart, one mind, one body

Lying in the darkness, the faint taste of the potion in his mouth - earthy, bitter, green and salt.  Xander beneath him, around him, the light of the single candle showing eyes as wide and as dark as the sea, mouth open on a breathless moan  love love love  pounding through the link as steady as the mortal's heartbeat - as vital.  Slowly, with infinite care, they let lips, teeth, tongues rest on the other.  Spike's mouth was flooded with Xander's taste - sweet and salt and sunlight, cool water, clean wood  The demon came forward, oddly subdued - so focused that Xander was the only light in a tunnel of black.  Spike moved, writhed, thrust, and felt his orgasm from very far away - felt it as a wave rolling in; smooth, heavy and unstoppable.  Beneath him, Xander arched up, gasping, and as their climax took them they took each other, tooth meeting tooth through sweat-slicked flesh and flesh of the living dead.  Spike sucked the heady nectar of Xander's blood into his mouth, feeling hot semen spattering his stomach and chest, feeling his own body pouring it out, a roaring in his ears.  Then they were whispering, saying the words;

Hyt k'ku, hyt v'lyl, hyt hydu.  And....

White light.  A confusion of colors and things.  A red-haired girl crying, a broken crayon...sight and sound and smell and taste cascaded through him - fast and then faster, and Spike threw his head back and roared, aware of Xander doing the same, aware of pain as the images and the sounds and the emotions built stronger and higher and faster - too fast to comprehend, too loud to hear, too bright to see.  Spike jerked up and away, falling half off the bed, his hands knotted in his hair in an agony of sensation.  Dimly, the scent of the wolfling came to him - a voice - but the life-time that was flooding through him was too much, too fast, and he cried out one more time and fell into it, into a stutter of day and night, hate and love, joy and pain, until it wound into darkness and he knew nothing else.

When Xander woke, it was to a cool cloth on his forehead and the dim, aqueous light of mid-day coming greenly in through the curtains.  The face above him slowly resolved into Oz, and Xander reached a shaking hand up and touched it - touched Oz's cheek before his arm fell limply back to the bed.

"Hey - Xander."  Oz smiled at him - glanced towards the kitchen and then back.  After a moment Spike was there, slipping into the bed from the other side, sharp scent of cigarette smoke and whiskey.

"Sspike," Xander whispered, and his throat felt ragged and full of sand.

"Here I am, love.  C'mon."  Spike eased his arm under Xander's shoulders and lifted him, holding Xander against his chest.  Oz had a cup, water and a straw, and Xander drank gratefully.  Oz set the cup down and touched his hand, then stood up and went away into the kitchen, leaving them alone.  Xander closed his eyes, leaning back on Spike gratefully, lacing their fingers together and sighing in utter contentment.  A random thought surfaced, and Xander frowned a little.

"Spike, there's something - with Oz... it's worse than it was?"

"Yeah.  He's...  We'll see to it, don't fret."  A moment's silence, and Spike hugged Xander a little closer.  "So, can I go and kill your father, love?"  Spike asked, and Xander chuckled weakly, squeezing the fingers in his.

"Sure.  An' then, I'll go kill Angel, 'kay?"

"Whatever you want, love."  Spike kissed his cheek - temple - and then settled back against the headboard, pulling Xander close.

"What - when is it?"

"Next day.  We did the spell last night.  I've been awake about... four hours.  Feel alright, love?"

"Mmmm.  My head hurts a bit - my throat.  What - what happened?  Did something - did we do it right?"

"Worked a treat, love.  Can't you feel it?"  Spike kissed his throat - where the mark was - and suddenly something flared up inside.  Xander gasped.  It was the link, but changed.  It was - more.  Deeper.  He could feel the emotions, the love you love you that he was used to, but there was something else, too.  It was as if he were inside Spike's mind, and for a moment he could hear Oz's heartbeat in the next room, hear the radio next door and, very faintly, a siren somewhere in downtown Sunnydale.  The scents of the room flooded into him - he could feel the threads of the sheet and he could, somehow, feel the coolness of Spike's body against his back and his own heat flooding back towards himself Spike at the same time.  It was something like the Super Slayer spell had been, only infinitely more intimate, and he wallowed in the emotions that Spike was directing towards him, and brushed tentatively over the other things - how Spike felt about Oz, Giles - Buffy.  Echoes of the past came to him as well; a brief flash of Drusilla, spinning and spinning, a veil of sheer silk floating around her and how love had surged up in him  Spike, love and desire.  Himself, in their bed, telling Spike I love you and the joy that had leapt up, joy and awe and love love   He shivered, overwhelmed, and the sensations retreated, leaving only the link as it had been, and the steady assurances Spike was sending him.

"God - Spike.  That's...  Love you.  I - I can't even...

"Shush, love, it's all right.  Don't need to talk.  I know. Love you always always mine

Yours

17 Telling

A week since the claim, and the memories had finally subsided - leveled, and lost their subtle but substantial grip. The first day or so it was all Xander could do to get up - walk around. Every thing, every touch, every sound, seem to trigger something, and he'd stand for long, long minutes just lost in memory.

"Let's rent a boat, William. A row across the lake would be lovely."

"Of course, Mother." People galloping past on horses, carriages with well-dressed women sitting inside, nod of head and bow, bow... Walking slow because Mother is ill and mustn't overdo. Two little boys in sailor suits tossing bread crumbs to the ducks and the boatman bobbing and touching his cap, undoing the painter and giving the little rowboat a shove. Mother smiling, so pale, her parasol casting a slant of shadow across her face and throat and the Row crowded with people and horses, the quiet ruffling of the lake-water a balm to frayed nerves...

And now Xander knows that Spike - William - didn't like horses. Or, rather, loved them, for their beauty and romantic Arthurian allure but had never ridden all that well and had never been a part of the 'horsy' set. Had, in fact, had a faint contempt for something so...physical. And that horses had scared him, a little. Then Xander would blink - swallow - look up and see Oz watching him, or feel Spike's fingers in his hair and gone again, another memory rising up like bubbles in a pool.

"You've been a naughty, naughty boy, Spike - Miss Edith says you must be punished." Curve of red lips, tumble of black hair, sharp nails scoring his chest and the rope biting into his wrists. Rope he can snap in a moment but they both like this game so he doesn't, only arches up to her touch, her golden eyes flickering to brown and back again, long pale thighs clasping his, glitter of the knife as it twitches restlessly across his chest, belly...

Xander gasps awake from that one, feeling the surge of arousal and he's on the floor by the kitchen door, Oz touching his shoulder, Spike leaning against the wall and just as lost as he is, reliving some part of Xander's life that makes him snarl when he comes back from it.

It's overwhelming, exhilarating - terrifying. Xander lets Oz pull him to his feet and he sways there a moment, not letting Oz's hand go, because another memory surfaces. This kitchen, this table, Oz saying it will be alright and Spike seeing hurt, seeing loss... Vowing to fix it and Xander looks at Oz and smiles. Yeah, fix it. Just let me... just let me get my bearings, let me get all this...settled. The hyena is bewildered by the rush of remembrance so foreign and so overwhelming and has retreated to a grumbling sulk somewhere down below conscious thought. The soldier is vacillating between horror at losing control so often and so completely and glee at a centuries' worth of mayhem he can plunder for skills and techniques.

Xander sits at the table, drinking a soda, and...

"Thee canna do this, boy, it's too much!" Angelus, furious. Fist twisted tight in Spike's shirt, the threads popping as he yanks and tries to jerk Spike down to his knees. Angry over careless mayhem, gleeful chaos. And of course Spike fights back - ALWAYS fights back, even when he knows he's going to lose - fist driving into that sneering mouth, knee coming up to sink into a vulnerable groin, the grin stretching his mouth as both hits connect and blood is trailing over Angelus' mouth, now. Angelus wheezes and doubles up and drives his head forward, and they are stumbling back, crashing into a spindly-legged table and Darla is looking on, a bored expression on her face, a glass of wine in her hand. Drusilla is on the bed, bouncing excitedly, her eyes gleaming and Spike winks at her and then yelps as Angelus crushes down on top of him, sharp elbow in the belly, fangs snapping at his throat, one hand twined in his hair and the other trying to break his ribs with hard, rabbity punches. Growl, heave, roll, and Spike is on top, rapping that damn great Irish head into the hearthstones with a satisfying crack and then Darla is there, wine-bottle swinging...

Xander groans and puts his head on the table and Spike is laughing, mumbling something. Xander looks up and catches Oz's eye - the werewolf is looking a bit spooked.

"It's a madhouse, a madhouse!" Xander exclaims, his best Charlton Heston, and Oz grins at him, some of the tension flowing away.

"When do you think this'll... settle down?" Oz asks.

"I think..." And that memory comes to him - a slim, pale man vampire in a grey suit, ashy-brown hair blowing in the ever-present breeze from the sea, grey eyes full of laughter and life. A woman beside him; auburn hair, plump, pale blue eyes and the same laughing look to her. Talking about the claim, talking about...

"A couple days, maybe? Not too long. They'll fade." Spike leans on the chair behind Xander and combs his fingers through Xander's hair.

"Right, wolfling. Give it a few days and we'll be right as rain. Greyson said... he could remember if he wanted to. " Oz nods, then, and sighs as Xander and Spike both zone out again, and when Xander surfaces it's dark outside. Oz is watching something on TV about the birth of Blues music in the south and Spike is smoking and looking angry.

"What is it, love?"

"Can't believe they left you there - fuckin' bastards - you were six, you were so scared..." And Xander knows what Spike is remembering. Himself getting his tonsils out and his parents dumping him in the hospital and gone, stuff to do, and he had lay in the bed and shivered and cried. Not knowing why he was there, not knowing what would happen next, too scared to get out of the bed and not knowing how to call anyone and he'd finally wet the bed and then cried even harder, absolute horror because now, now... Xander shook that off, pushed his head back into Spike's caressing fingers. love you warm and sweet.

"I can tell the wind is risin', the leaves tremblin' on the tree...

A man's reedy voice from the TV, the recording scratchy and a little distorted, the guitar stark and unaccompanied. Somehow, it makes Xander shiver.

"Yeah, well... I got ice cream and toys from all the nurses when they figured it out. And Wills brought me a coloring book the next day." Spike snorts, crushing out his cigarette, and Xander leans over and kisses him, soft and slow.

"Come make it all better, love..." he whispers, and somehow the memories are easier to take when they're lying in the bed together, close as they can possibly get; Spike beneath him and around him, murmur of his name, cool mouth against his and want need and Spike's blood like nectar, the claim mark a raised glyph under his tongue. Then the memories wash in and out without so much...baggage. Xander sighs in bliss and relief, cool skin against his and the link wide open and fire in the grate, Drusilla writing in her journal, letting her hair be brushed and brushed to a silken cowl, warm and safe and loved, loved...

Monday - ten days gone, and they'd managed to avoid Buffy, Giles - everyone, really. Even gotten in a couple of their own kind of patrols; the demon and the wolf and the hyena running through the night, being pack, being family, and it's all part of the fix that Spike and Xander know Oz needs. But not all of it. And Xander has tried out a few of those memories - tried a move, here and there, from Spike's street-brawling days and after the second or third try it had been like he'd known them all along. The soldier was ecstatic. And a new thing - images, through the link. Old ones - memories - but new ones, too - what Spike was seeing, or Xander. What either of them were thinking. Spike amused himself by sending little flashes of Xander and himself fucking - just glimpses of thigh and arched back, rib or curve of throat or sweep of buttock. Enough to make Xander hard for hours. He got his revenge by sending images of his co-workers, naked. Beer-bellies aplenty, and Spike just laughed at him when he came home - laughed and tackled him to the bed, as ready as Xander was.

The memories had finally sunk under, but Xander still woke shuddering from nightmares. Nightmares only to him - memories of hunts and fights and Spike learning what sort of damage a railroad spike could do to a human body. Drusilla having tea-parties with blood in the teapot and half-dead little girls listless at her party table. Angelus...showing Spike how much more powerful he is then a five-year fledge and Spike seething, in agony. Too beaten to even move, too lost in Drusilla to run away, too desperate to be part of to abandon his only family. And other things - the Initiative among them, and Xander really wants to hurt Riley now. Those memories were fading, as well - were already losing their hard-edged brilliance and becoming nothing more than vague scenes, scatter-shot across his night-time brain. For that, Xander was thankful. His own life had caused Spike more anger then anything, and Xander had wondered if he would get a call sometime. The police, telling him his dad was dead. But Spike overheard that thought one night, curled tight to him, and whispered in his ear - in his head. Yours to do, or not, as you like. Your choice, your revenge, love...your family

Tonight they were all three sprawled on the sofa-bed, watching the 'Alien' oeuvre and eating take-out from the Ethiopian place. Spike was on his back, propped up with a plate on his stomach. With one hand he deftly scooped up eggs and lamb and vegetables with a piece of injera bread, with the other he idly rubbed Oz's ankle-bone. Xander grinned at that, then groaned and heaved himself up from his prone position when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Xander? It's - it's Giles. I need to speak to you - can you come over here tonight?" Xander felt an unexpected and unwelcome clutch of anxiety, and immediately Spike twisted around, looking at him.

"Something up, Giles? Something wrong?"

"No - no. Nothing is...wrong, precisely, but I've never gotten your side of the spell we did, the...ah...Super Slayer spell, and I really need your...experience to put into my journal." Giles's voice sounded odd, and Xander frowned at that. Oz was watching him now, too, and Xander wondered if he'd ever get used to them being able to hear everything that was said on the phone.

"We're in the middle of dinner here, Giles, when - "

"Oh, say in an hour? And Xander, please tell Spike that Buffy wants to meet him at the Bronze. She wants to talk to him about...about the Slayers he killed."

"What?" A silence, and a sigh from Giles, and Spike is on his feet now, plate set aside and eyes going gold for a moment.

"There was... there was an incident, last night. On patrol. Buffy...got hurt, and she wants to know - she wants to know how Spike killed the Slayers."

"Is she ok?"

"Oh yes, yes, she's fine, a minor wound, really, but in light of her new...dedication to training and...learning, Buffy feels that... She needs to know - how it happened." Xander frowned again, not happy at all. But he couldn't put Giles off anymore, even if he wanted to. And something was making him not want to. He wanted to tell them - the whole gang. He was tired of sneaking and lying. He just wasn't sure if he wanted to yet.

"Ok Giles, I'll tell him. See you in a while." Xander hung up and sighed, and looked up at Spike and Oz. Spike looked ready to do...something. Fight, or yell, or punch something. Oz looked worried. Xander went over to Spike, slipping an arm around his waist and calm love you

"Guess I'm seein' Giles tonight. And you're seein' Buffy. "

"Do you think - what do you think?" Oz asked, stabbing idly at some cooked egg, and Xander shrugged.

"I - don't really know. He says - well, you heard what he says, but I don't know if that's all he wants. He sounded...strange. Maybe 'cause of Buffy, maybe not." Spike ran his hand up and down Xander's side, giving a little squeeze, then sat back down on the bed, picking up his plate again.

"We'll know when we get there, love. Nothing to worry about." His even tone was belied by the tremor of anxiety that ran through the link, and Xander sent back safe love you

"Yeah." Xander sank down as well, and Oz slowly ate a forkful of egg.

"You know, I think I'll go to the Bronze tonight. See what's up with the band that's there - maybe play a little pool. Mind if I tag along, Spike?" Spike grinned over at Oz.

"What, are you sayin' you don't trust the Slayer, wolf? Think she'll need double-teaming?" Oz laughed, and bounced a little on the bed, wolf eyes and fangs and claws for a moment, then himself again.

"Nah. But you're supposed to be all unable to fight back, you know? I just don't want her getting...overzealous."

"Oooh." Xander raised his eyebrows in mock amazement. "Big two-dollar word from the wolf. I gotta get me some of those. But first, the rest of my dinner."

Xander dropped Spike and Oz off at the Bronze, and couldn't repress a shiver of unease as he watched them walk inside. love you safe came from Spike as the door closed, and Xander sent it back hard, then drove on to Giles's apartment. The complex was quiet, and he sat for a little bit in his truck, thinking. Feeling Spike faintly through the link; arrogance and amusement and something like nostalgia. Brief image of Buffy, looking angry, shoving a plate of chicken wings across the table. He wondered what they were saying. Sighing, he got out of the truck and walked down - knocked gently on the door. After a moment Giles opened it, and wordlessly ushered him inside. Papers were strewn over the table - books and several half-empty cups of tea precariously piled among them - and Xander eyed the mess with suspicion.

"Been doin' some heavy research?"

"Something like that. Please - sit down." Xander did, perching on a stool by the breakfast bar, and Giles leaned on the edge of the table, glasses off and thumb rubbing over his forehead as if he had a headache.

"Xander...when we did the spell... You could feel Willow and myself, could you not?"

"Yeah - I could. It was like - Willow was power, and you were..." Xander stopped and looked at Giles, and Giles looked slightly uneasy. "You were - demonkiller. And not - like Buffy is, you know? It was...darker."

"Ah. Yes, well, in my younger days I committed my share of rebellious acts, and I'm afraid some of those acts involved...darker magics then I currently...employ."

"You and Ethan Rayne?" Giles shot Xander a hard look and then sighed.

"Yes, Ethan and I. We were - friends once. A long time ago. Did you feel - anything else?"

"From you? I felt - teacher. And fighter, and...father." Xander fiddled with a loose button on his work-shirt - glanced up to see Giles looking at him with a rather startled expression, one that melted into a small, pleased smile.

"Well, I, uh, suppose that, in my time here, I've certainly assumed many of the...well, responsibilities one might associate with a father, especially towards Buffy..."

"Yeah. You kind of have. For all of us, really. I mean - Willow's parents are gone a lot, and mine... They're just gone, you know?" Xander couldn't help but smile back at Giles, and the tension in the air seemed to lessen a bit. He could sense amusement from Spike again, and the sort of jumpy energy that personified Spike in on mode. Flicker of something - pool cue and table and Buffy's startled face, brief glimpse of Oz, and he relaxed more, knowing the vampire was all right.

"Yes, well... Back to the...point of your visit. You could feel Buffy as well, I assume?"

"Oh, yeah." Xander shivered a little, remembering. "Buffy was....blood and bones. And eternal, and... lonely." Giles was staring at him now, and Xander started feeling uncomfortable again.

"Really, Xander, I'm quite amazed. You seem to be able to...to express how it felt much better then any of the rest of us. I wonder, is that because of the soldier, or the hyena?" Giles voice was so soft - so even, that it took Xander a moment for him to really register what he'd said. And then he stared in amazement at the older man.

"Wh-what?" Giles was watching him closely, being The Watcher, his pose one of relaxed indifference. Ready to pounce Xander thought, and unconsciously straightened on the stool.

"I could feel - both of those things - those entities. The hyena seemed....eager? Excited? And the soldier was very... Well, Buffy said it made her feel brave."

"Yeah, he did. Giles - "

"Why didn't you tell me Xander? How long has this - possession - been going on?"

"I'm not possessed, Giles. They've...they've been there since they happened. The hyena never left, I just got more...control over it. And the soldier the same way - when the spell was broken and we all went back to normal, he just...stayed. It's not... They don't hurt me, or anything - I mean, the soldier helped with Angelus, remember? And the hyena helps, too - they both do. I can fight better because of them. They don't - control me, or anything. They're like...Jiminy Cricket, only - you know - with the schematics for a land-mine and a craving for a rare steak from time to time."

Giles looked at him, frowning, and then stood up and paced closer, his eyes dark and his arms at his sides, tense.

"And how does Spike fit into all this?" Xander felt a wave of icy dread pass over him, followed rather swiftly by sickly relief, and he swallowed, watching Giles.

"I felt him as well, Xander. Buffy and Willow both seemed to think it was - part of the other two. They seemed to have a much more...muddled recollection of what happened. But I remember distinctly that he was there, in you, with the rest. With us, for just a moment. I've had - suspicions - since he moved in with you, and Angel - "

"Angel? What's deadboy got to do with this?"

"When he was here last, he came by, on his way out of town. He said that I should keep an eye on Spike. And I have been, as best I could. It's been difficult, considering how little you two - three, including Oz - are around. And then we did that spell, Xander, and Spike is in your head. How is that possible?" Giles was very close, now, and his eyes had a hard gleam that Xander associated with the darkman Ripper part of the Watcher's past. The hyena growled a warning and the soldier dredged up memories - two, then three, a rapid stutter of images - Spike fighting, particular moves. Xander shook his head, dismissing them, telling the soldier in no uncertain terms to stand down.

"Giles... This is gonna take a while."

Xander finally stopped talking and Giles simply stared at him, utterly motionless. Xander looked at him for a moment then got up and went into the kitchen, getting a glass of water and gulping it down. His stomach was in knots, and he was thankful to be out from under the scrutiny of the older man, if only temporarily. After a moment Giles followed him into the kitchen and began making tea, moving in a jerky fashion that showed how far away his thoughts were. Xander leaned in the doorway, watching him.

"You say - you say you can see... Xander, demons don't have souls - you know they don't."

"But they do, Giles. You said so yourself. Remember the demon trapped in the book, the one Willow scanned? You said its soul was trapped for all eternity. I can see them, Giles. They really are there. My boss is a demon. Hell, half of Sunnydale employs demons! Some are just really good at hiding. But I can see them if I want to, Giles - I can see Willow's soul, and Buffy's... I can see yours. And I can see Spike's, Giles. Both of them. It's...it's the most amazing thing I've ever seen."

"Xander, I... This is all so..."

"I know it's hard to believe, Giles. But it's true. Don't you have - isn't there something you could do - some spell or...something so you could see them, too?" Giles was shaking his head and Xander started to get angry. "I'm going to accept that you aren't just going to believe me - I mean, I'm not Willow with the magic powers and the nerd powers and I'm not a thousand-year-old ex-demon, and I'm not Tara who can see auras, and I'm sure not Buffy, so yeah, I can see where you'd think I was...lying, or under some damn spell- " Xander realized he was shouting, way too close to Giles in the narrow kitchen and he choked it off, taking a deep breath and trying to calm down.

Knew he'd be like this! Didn't we tell you? He doesn't trust us, Harris, he won't believe until he can cut Spike's soul out and examine it under a microscope

OURS. Keep it away! The hyena was snarling, and Xander laughed shortly, rubbing his temples. Giles was standing in front of the stove, arms crossed, frowning, his stance defensive and maybe a little spooked. Ok, god, got to calm down, Spike'll think...fuck, I don't KNOW what Spike'll think, but it won't be good He reached for Spike through the link but got nothing - the vampire had shut it down. The knots in his belly tightened. So not good - damnit

"You know, this won't exactly help my case here, but the soldier thinks you don't trust me. And the hyena? It wants to hurt you." Giles stiffened at that, and shot him a wary look.

"Do you want to hurt me, Xander?"

"Oh for god's sake, Giles! Of course I don't! You know, Spike and Oz neither one had a problem with this - they believed me right off. Why don't you?"

"It's not a matter of belief, Xander, it's - " Giles was cut off by a sudden thump as his front door flew open and banged sharply into the wall behind it. And Spike was there, furious, blocking the link but half into game-face and growling deep in his chest. Behind him Oz staggered in, panting, looking as if he'd run a marathon.

"Spike! What in hell - " from Giles, full-on Ripper in an instant.

"Hey, you guys ok? What's -"

"Sorry, Xander, I - " Oz reeled a little, gasping, and Spike grabbed his arm and pushed him onto a stool, glaring at Giles. The link crashed open suddenly and Xander felt rage fear MINE and he moved hastily, catching at Spike as the vampire rounded the corner of the kitchen doorway, going straight for Giles who was trapped at the back of the minimal kitchen space. Spike snarled, full demon, and Xander yanked his arm hard, making him stop, sending calm calm CALM

"It's all right, Spike - I'm ok. I should have - I just got pissed off. It's ok. Giles didn't do anything." Spike stared at him, panting a little, then whipped his head around as Giles made some aborted movement. Giles froze. Xander did, and Oz was dark-eyed, tense, on the verge of wolfing out.

"Watcherrrr," Spike growled, and Xander shook Spike a little, making him look back, making Spike focus on love love yours calm now yours calm

"Spike, it's OK, you need to calm down. Spike?" The vampire stared at him another long moment. Then finally he blinked, taking a deep breath. The demon subsided and Spikes human face was there, scowling. He leaned forward and kissed Xander, hard and possessive, his hands coming up to cradle Xander's face, fingers in Xander's hair and love you love you Xander kissed back just as desperately, pulling the shivering body close to him, hands under the duster and digging into Spike's back. Slowly, they pulled away from each other, and Xander saw that Giles had buried his face in his hands, glasses dangling from his fingers.

"You felt - it just kept gettin' worse. And then, the last couple of blocks..." Spike made a vague gesture with his hand. "I got worried, is all. Oi, Watcher! Don't piss my boy off, right?"

"Don't, Spike." Xander pulled Spike a little further away from Giles, tightening his grip around Spike's waist. "I was just... I told Giles about Jack, and what he gave me and what I can see and...he doesn't believe me."

"He'll just have to get over it, love. What brought all this on, anyway?" Spike pushed a staying lock of hair of Xander's forehead - gently ran his fingers back through the dark strands.

"When we did that spell - Super Slayer. He could feel the hyena and the soldier. And you, too."

"Huh. So he's all in a panic, hey?" Spike broke away from Xander's embrace and walked around to the front door, shutting it with a brusque push. Then he came back to Oz and rubbed his hand gently over the werewolf's back and sweat-damp t-shirt.

"Sorry 'bout runnin' you into the ground, mate."

"S'okay, Spike. It's good for me." Oz grinned, still panting, and Spike grinned back. Giles slammed a can of soda down onto the breakfast bar next to Oz.

"I'm so glad you're all friends again, but Xander we are not finished here. And Spike - I don't know what you've done -"

"Nothing I wasn't asked to do, Watcher. Chip, remember? You've got a bloody nerve - "

"Stop - stop! Giles, we're together, you're just going to have to...deal with it. This last week we…we made it permanent. It's called a claim, and it's... It's done, Giles. "

"Claim. CLAIM? Really, Xander, have you - have you lost your mind?" Giles was shaking with the intensity of his emotions, his expression one of horror and sadness and fury. "Have you forgotten that Spike has, on numerous occasions, tried to kill all of us? Has nearly succeeded ? He is not - "

"Giles - you don't understand. This claim - I know what he's thinking, Giles. I can hear him, I can feel him." Xander advanced further into the kitchen, getting into Giles' face and making him flinch away. "And he can do the same with me. We know - more then anyone around us - exactly how the other feels. Exactly. I've never been this loved, Giles. Never. I've never been... accepted like this, wanted like this. He can't lie to me, Giles. And I can't lie to him. Do you get it?" Xander was shouting again, Giles was looking more Ripper by the moment, and Oz's eyes had gone black, his shoulders tense. Spike just stood there, watching, and what was coming from him was rage and hate, bitterness and...sorrow. Xander caught his breath - looked over at him.

"What is it, love?" he asked, softly, and Spike shook his head - patted at the duster and pulled out cigarettes and lighter.

"I'm just sorry, pet. Didn't want trouble for you. Didn't want you to be unhappy."

"Not your fault, Spike. Not at all." love you mine always Spike smiled at him, flicking open the Zippo and lighting up.

"Spike, damnit, how many times - "

"Piss off, Watcher." Spike sat heavily on the table's edge and smoked, staring at the floor. Giles pushed past Xander, out of the kitchen and straight for the vampire, to snatch away the cigarette or to grab Spike up from his perch - something. But before he got there Oz was between them, head lowered and his stance screaming 'back off'. Spike had reverted to the demon, and was growling very low and soft. Xander moved hastily to Spike's side and Giles froze again, staring at Oz - at Xander - and took a careful step back.

"Xander, I think that - what you've done is very dangerous, and very foolish."

"And I think you're wrong, Giles. What Jack did - what he gave me, means I can see what people really are. I can see you, Giles. I can see what you did as Ripper - I can feel it. The taint of the demons you summoned, the love you had for Ethan - the things the two of you did... It's all there, Giles." Giles stared at him, and his hands were shaking as they took off the glasses, methodically polished, replaced them. Giles sank slowly down onto a stool, and Xander leaned next to Spike, pressing into him, needing the contact. Spike slipped his arm around Xander's waist and leaned his head on the mortal's shoulder, and Xander sighed. Oz relaxed, slipping back, and Spike touched his hand in passing, shooting him a grateful look.

"I don't know what to tell you, Giles. I don't know how to convince you." Xander spoke softly, defeat in his voice.

"I do." Spike sat up again, finishing his cigarette. He stood up and flicked the butt into the kitchen, sending it neatly into the sink. love you mine

"You want to know about the Sidhe - about Jack? There are books to read - people to talk to. That's the easy part. You want to know about the bloody claim? Call Angel. Ask him. Bloody poufter knows all about them. And I'm sure you'll believe him, won't you, Watcher? Believe the broody bastard when he tells you that we're linked now - blood to blood." Spike took one step, then another, until he was crowding Giles back on the stool and Giles had gone still again, obviously forgetting Spike's supposed helpless state in the primal fear of being prey. Spike's voice was low and rough and soft, and it raised the hairs on Xander's neck. "Nothin' to separate us but death, Watcher - and even that for only a little while. A very nasty, miserable little while. Don't be gettin' any ideas. My pain is his pain, my pleasure is his pleasure, and my death is his death. And the same goes for me, Watcher. Linked. You call Angel, ask him all the questions you want. He'll tell you."

"Well, that didn't go very well," Xander sighed, wearily climbing the steps up out of Giles' courtyard. The three of them walked slowly across the parking lot to Xander's truck; Spike smoking, Oz fiddling with the soda he'd taken with him, Xander restlessly tossing and catching his keys. The hyena was so hyped that Xander felt like screaming, and Oz suddenly made a low, growly noise.

"I really wanna hunt something down and kick its head in," he muttered, and Spike grabbed him in a fierce, one-armed embrace.

"That's the ticket, wolfling! A spot a' the old ultra-violence and we'll all feel better." Oz nodded in agreement, and Xander slipped his arm under the duster, around Spike's waist.

"So what happened with Buffy?" Spike snorted, getting his other arm around Xander and steering them all to a stop against the hood of Xander's truck.

"She got herself staked by some fledge. Got her all in a tizzy, so she wanted some kind of blow-by-blow explanation of how I done for those two Slayers. Couldn't exactly do a reenactment for the silly bint, so we...talked about it. Got me some free beer and wings, at least. An' I told her what she didn't want to hear."

"What's that?" Xander asked. Spike turned to look at him, eyes blue and clear as a noon sky, utterly calm, utterly feral, and Xander shivered just a bit.

"Slayers spend all their time dealin' out death - rollin' in it, persuin' it, dodgin' it. Eventually - they all wanna know - what it's like. They all got a death-wish, and I got to be their soddin' fairy vampire. At least I did for those two." Spike tipped his head back, looking at the sky, and Xander and Oz shared a look across him.

"Let's go fuck something up, guys, " Xander said finally, pushing away from the truck and going to unlock the doors. As Oz slid in behind Spike, Xander looked over at him, smiling just a little.

"Hey, Oz - thanks for - for being on our side, back there. Thanks for standing up for us. I - we - really appreciate it."

"It's ok," Oz murmured, fiddling with the bracelets around his wrist. He glanced down - back up - and his eyes sparked green in the dimness. "We're pack. I couldn't not, you know?"

"Yeah. Pack." Xander grinned, and the hyena let loose a low, chuckling sound, hair-raising in the confined space of the cab. Spike laughed.

"You're gettin' as freaky as the two of us, love. Have you smokin' and swearin' and fornicatin', next." Xander laughed aloud, starting the truck, and the ride to the cemetery was full of sharp-edged mirth as their combined nerves and blood-lust wound higher and higher. They went to Spike's old cemetery and started hunting, Oz half wolf and Spike full demon, and Xander knew his eyes were the hyena's eyes, green-glowing and merciless. They loped in a loose formation, Spike to the fore, alert to every sound. Xander drew in deep breaths over his tongue, almost tasting the air. Spike's blood was telling, more and more.

The air was heavy and warm; summer air, full of the ripe, green smells of growing things. There was the faint tang of the sea, the stronger scent of the river; complex smells of mud and water, dead fish and rotten wood. Fresh-turned earth, damp stone, Spike's duster, Oz's rich wolfy smell. Night-insects made a background cacophony of drones and buzzes and whines, and an owl called and called again, disturbed in its own hunt. Suddenly Spike held up a hand, and they all slowed and stopped, listening. Voices - quarrelling and loud. The breeze veered a little and the scent came to them - of earth and magic and blood. Vampires. Spike grinned, and Oz yipped low in his throat. Xander was silent, but he could feel the building excitement coming from Spike and he fed it with his own - gleeful images of slaughter.

As one, they bolted, silent on the springy grass; Spike's duster snapping a bit, Oz keeping up a steady grumbling sing-song and Xander finally raising his chin and loosing a full-throated shriek as the nest came into view. Seven vampires - all roughly the same twenty-somethings - unremarkable clothes, various collegiate hairstyles. Three females, four males. They had a swath of junk spread out over a large tomb - clothes and wallets, cd's and a player, various other things. Squabbling over the loot. Xander took it all in in a sweeping glance as his call froze them for one crucial moment. Then they were on them, scattering the vampires like a flock of birds. Oz pounced on a female, all claws and fangs, jaws in her throat and ripping in one quick snap and shake, tearing half her neck away. A swipe of clawed hand at the rest and she was dust. Spike leaped for two males close together, a roar of pure unholy joy splitting the night. He was a flurry of leather and hard-angled limbs, bones snapping under his fists and feet, fangs and fingernails shredding flesh. In moments neither vamp could stand and he turned on the next closest, happy to draw out their deaths.

Xander went straight for a male who had managed to get several strides into the bushes. He leaped onto the vampire's back, bringing him down, and his hands went to jaw and temple. With a quick, hard twist he snapped the vamp's neck, rendering him immobile, then finished him with a stake. He couldn't actually bring himself to decapitate - without a weapon it was simply too bloody, and he didn't trust his new strength that much yet. He glanced up to see Oz circling with the last female, swiping and lunging, and the vampire limping on a broken leg, blood at her stomach and throat. Spike dusted the last of his - he always got the highest count - then he too watched Oz, who darted in, feinted, then finished the reeling demon off with a wrench of powerful arms, tearing head from body in one clean jerk. want fuck mine was coming in hard from Spike, and Xander gasped in a breath and laughed the hyena's ululating laugh, sending the thought right back, his cock rapidly hardening in his jeans.

"My god," someone said, and all three of them whirled around, snarling, tensed to attack. Buffy and Riley stood twenty feet away, staring.

"Oz? Xander? What - what are you doing?" Xander was the first to recover, straightening out of his crouch, running his hand back through his hair. He was panting, keyed up, and he knew, from the sudden flinch, that his eyes had caught the light and flashed the balefire green of the hyena.

"Buffy," Xander said, and then couldn't think of anything else. His heart was pounding, he was slick with sweat, and adrenaline and arousal were making him shiver uncontrollably. pack pack pack through the link and Buffy was not pack and Xander wasn't sure he could string together a coherent sentence. Spike stalked forward a step or two, head still lowered and predatory enough for Riley to take a step back and Buffy to raise the stake she carried.

"Sslayer. " Spike hissed, and stopped, head to one side, regarding her.

"What is going on? Xander, why are you acting so weird? Was that - what Giles said? The hyena? What are you doing out here with Spike? And Oz?"

"Pa'rol, Buffy," Oz said, and Buffy caught her breath as Oz stepped out of the shadows, blood streaked up his arms, across his mouth. He was still partially the wolf - fangs and claws and more hair then usual -and the tar-pit eyes that were like a shark's. His words came out faintly distorted - slurred through the fangs. "We pa'rol. You know?"

"You patrol? With Spike? Have the two of you gone crazy? You're going to get yourself killed, Xander!" A low hiss from Spike, and he'd moved closer to the two of them, still with the demon's face. Oz went a little more wolf, growling low in his throat, and Xander finally gathered his wits enough to take a step closer, try on a wide smile. It felt more like a snarl, and must have looked like one, too, because Riley's eyes got very wide and Buffy firmed her stance a little, as if she expected Xander to attack her.

Spike! Back off! Spike stopped his advance, swaying just a little. Oz prowled over to the vampire, leaning into him the merest fraction, and the sudden extra surge of lust from Spike almost made Xander forget what he was doing.

"Buffy - we patrol. Kill demons - kill vamps. Spike's being...Master of the Hellmouth, you know? We keep the dumb fledges out of the school and away from the stuff they shouldn't mess with. Keep the worst of the demons out. Hadn't you noticed...how slow it's been?" Buffy was looking at Spike and Oz, but at that she tore her gaze away from them and looked hard at Xander.

"I had kinda wondered... How long have you been doing this, Xander?"

"Oh - a month or so, a little longer." Xander moved restlessly, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Spike had his hand on the back of Oz's neck - was rubbing his thumb slowly up and down the nape, in the short, newly indigo-blue hair. want pack fix it and the steady surge of need made Xander shudder, and he wanted to be home, right now. He took a step towards Spike and Oz, almost missing what Buffy was saying.

"Xander, I don't like you guys being out here, and I don't like Spike being out here. And as for him being the 'Master of Sunnydale', that's a laugh." Buffy seemed to settle herself a little, and took a step towards Spike. Oz and Xander both stiffened, and Oz growled, deep in his chest. Buffy stopped, and let Riley pull her back.

"I think - we need to talk about this when...when everybody's not so tense. I'm going to talk to Giles about this, Xander. Just - get home, ok? Leave the patrolling to me."

"Not what you've been saying for the last four years, Buffy. Don't worry about us - we're pack. We protect our own." Buffy's mouth opened silently, a hurt little gasp, and her expression softened for a moment.

"Xander - please, tell me what's going on! You've been - you just haven't been around lately, at all, and you and Willow seem to be - fighting all the time, and...you're just..." Xander felt a jolt of guilt - he hadn't meant to upset everyone - but it was drowned in what was coming off Spike - lost in the subtle arch of Oz's throat as he let Spike continue to pet him. Xander looked at Buffy, fighting for coherency.

"I know it's been weird, Buffy. But -it's going to get better soon. I'm still your friend. I've just had - so much happen to me lately... I'm still here, Buffy. I promise you." Buffy looked at him for a long moment, then nodded, finally relaxing out of her stance, letting her hand drop all the way to her side.

"Ok, Xander. I - I still want to talk to Giles. Just - go home and do something...not quite so freaky, ok? I - we need to get going. My mom..."

"What about your mom, Buffy?"

"She - she's been sick, is all. Dawn's home alone with her, I need to get going. We'll talk later Xander, ok?"

"Is she gonna be ok, Buffy?" Xander felt a little surge of fear she'll be ok - has to be and Buffy kind of nodded, kind of shrugged.

"We don't really know. I - gotta go."

"Yeah," Xander said softly, and she and Riley turned and walked slowly away. Spike sent a last snarl in their direction and then he turned to Xander, letting the demon's face go, head cocked to one side.

"She'll be alright, pet. Joyce is tough. Want to go home now?" The worry over Joyce was still there, but it faded as Xander stared at Spike and Oz - the vampire's pale fingers stroking through ink-dark hair, Oz's eyes still dark behind his lashes, half-closed. Xander shook his head fractionally, throwing off the intense desire to simply want HAVE pounce on the two of them.

"Yeah. Home. Let's go." By the time they'd gone a half-dozen strides they were running, and Xander sent a long and wavering cry chasing after Buffy and Riley, hoping they heard it. Hoping it scared them, just a little.

The drive home was silent, the tension in the truck palpable. Once there, Oz got first crack at the shower, being the goriest, and Xander and Spike stood in the kitchen, gulping down orange juice and a beer respectively, eyeing each other.

"Is what I think is going on...going on?" Xander finally asked, and Spike lit a cigarette, tossing his duster over a kitchen chair.

"You mean the wolfling? We have to - fix this, love. He thinks..."

"Yeah. He thinks he's...being pushed out?"

"Something like that." Spike took a long drag, watching Xander. "I want to do something. I know how to fix this - I think I know. But it has to be the three of us, and it has to be...you have to be willing, love, and so does he." Xander finished his juice and put the glass in the sink.

"You're talking about more than...sex, right?" Spike grinned, every bit as wolfish as Oz for a moment.

"Yeah, I am. Although that's almost enough right there. We need - he needs - to really be a part of this. Of the pack. We need to share our blood with him, pet. Just a little." Xander leaned back against the sink, crossing his arms over his chest, frowning. Sheer nerves made him lean and turn on the radio, soft jazz spilling out into the quiet. yours always only yours from Spike, comforting - reaffirming.

"You think that'll work?"

"It'll fix a lot of it. And...I need this too, Xander. If he was - if this was a nest, vampires, we'd all have shared - we'd all be...linked. The demon wants to claim him, make him family, and that's - the only way it knows." Xander rubbed his hands back through his hair - watched Spike reach and stub out his cigarette.

"But he can't bite us, Spike. I mean - Oz is family, but I don't wanna be a wolfman."

"And I like you pelt-free myself, love. He doesn't have to bite - just get the blood in him. Just a little cut, from each of us, and let the blood flow a little... He keeps away from the cut, that won't hurt either of us, and he'll get what he needs. "

"Will it be - "

"Like us? No. That small of an amount, the one time - no. It'll be just enough, is all." Xander pushed away from the counter and went to lean into Spike, untucking Spike's t-shirt and worming his hands up underneath, caressing ribs and shoulder blades. He ghosted kisses over Spike's face, jaw and throat. Spike sighed and hugged him close, his own lips teasing the claim mark that shone palely at the juncture of Xander's neck and shoulder; a silvery hieroglyph against the work-tanned skin. The link thrummed with want but with acceptance, as well. Xander sighed and shifted, and they separated slowly when Oz came out. The werewolf was in sweats and a torn 'Dingoes' t-shirt, and he sank down onto a kitchen chair, looking worn and a little down. Spike tipped his head towards the back of the house and Xander nodded.

"Hey Oz, we're gonna clean up real quick and then - we need to talk about something. We'll be right back out, ok?" Oz looked up at them, his eyes dark and his face clean of all expression. He nodded once and went back to studying his hands, and Xander and Spike went into the bedroom and stripped, moving quickly to the bathroom and showering without the usual foreplay. They were both aroused - tense - and Xander felt a ripple of fear in his belly. Oz needed something from them - needed to belong, and Xander wanted to help him - let him know, however he could, that he was a part of them, a part of the pack. He hoped Spike was right - that this was the way to do it. The thought of driving Oz away, of somehow screwing this up, made him feel a little sick and a lot terrified. Spike was roughly towel-drying his hair and he stopped and came over to Xander - leaned into him for a long, hard kiss.

"It'll be alright, Xander. You'll see. We'll fix this, fix the wolf. Don't be scared, love." Xander smiled shakily at him.

"Yeah. I trust you, Spike. I guess...I just don't trust me, maybe. Don't let me screw this up, ok?"

"Not a chance, love," Spike whispered, and love you beautiful mine made Xander grin. He leaned in for another kiss and then slipped away to brush his teeth while Spike went into the bedroom. When Xander joined him, Spike had lit their bedside candle and spread the sheet and quilt smoothly over the mattress and up around the pillows. The lube was discreetly tucked half-way behind the candle and Spike was pulling on the gorgeous brocade robe he'd 'nicked' from somewhere a month ago. Man's got to have a proper dressing gown Xander got his own robe and together they went back out to the kitchen.

Oz was still huddled miserably on his chair, his knees drawn up and his forehead pressed against them. He seemed to be shaking, and when Xander walked up to him and put his hand on the thin shoulder, he raised a pale, tear-streaked face to them. Immediately, Xander pulled a chair up close and sat down, tugging Oz over into a gentle embrace.

"Oz - come on. What is it? What's - tell us what's the matter." Spike settled onto the table on the other side of Oz, leaning elbows on knees, feet dangling, his expression for once totally serious.

"Oh, I... I'm just... scared, I guess." Oz sat up and wiped impatiently at his face; pushed his fingers back through his hair, making the glossy dark-blue strands stand up wildly.

"Scared of what, pet?" Spike asked, and Oz glanced at him, letting out a short, harsh laugh.

"Of...me, I guess. Ever since the Initiative...ever since they got me, I've felt like...what if I am a monster? I mean...I went in there with you that night and I...killed those people, and I didn't...even care, Spike! I didn't care. They were people, and I..." Oz stopped, putting his head back down on his knees, and Xander gently rubbed his back, looking over at Spike. The vampire looked back, frowning.

"I can't help you with that, pet. I did the same, and you know I don't give a fuck for who I killed in there, or how I did it. They all had it comin', and I'd do it again tomorrow if I could." A flash of gold, the demon flickering out and then away, and Xander looked at Oz, thinking.

"You said that - death by vampire - or by werewolf - was natural, Oz. That - dead was dead." Oz lifted his face, tear-streaked again, and gave another of those strangled laughs.

"What if I was wrong, Xander? What if I...said that just to make myself feel better? 'Cause if Spike - if William the Bloody is natural, if he can...still hunt and feed off people and you can love him, then that puts me just about up there with Jesus Christ, doesn't it? What if he really is a monster? If he is, then I am too. The Initiative wanted me, too, and...I did the same things he did, Xander, I killed them -"

"Enough now, pet." Spike's voice was stern but quiet, and Oz rubbed at his eyes with the hem of his t-shirt and looked up at the vampire. "You and me, we're worlds apart. You got bit - got this wolf thing - you never wanted it. You let them lock you up in a bloody cage every month so you wouldn't hurt anybody. Fuck, you went to the ends of the earth to find a - a cure, or whatever you want to call it." Spike reached out and cupped Oz's cheek in his hand, fingertips rubbing lightly through the soft hair over the werewolf's ear, his thumb resting gently just under Oz's lower lip.

"Me, I saw Dru, right before she bit me. I didn't know exactly what she was but I knew she wasn't human - knew she was offering me the Devil's road. And I took it, wolf, I took it gladly. I wanted what she was offering and the first time I tore the throat out of a human I only wanted more. Until Xander I never gave a moment's thought to the people I was killing, and I wouldn't now except it would hurt him." Spike glanced over at Xander and the love you from Xander was so fierce it made the vampire draw in a sharp breath. Spike looked back at Oz - let his hand drop to cover the werewolf's slender fingers, lacing them with his own.

"What you did - you'll never do it again. You never would have if they hadn't done it to you first. They tried to make you a monster, but they failed. You're no bloody monster, pet, never will be. You're family here - part of the pack. You told Xander: don't hate himself, for what I do. Don't you go hating yourself for what you were driven to, wolfling. You got your revenge. You took back what was yours. Now it's done, and it's just us, fightin' the good fight and pissin' off the Slayer whenever we can, eh?" Spike grinned at him, and after a moment Oz smiled wanly back, and Xander rubbed gently at the nape of Oz's neck, pushing his fingers through the soft, thick hair.

"You've been pack to me for a long time, Oz. Even before the werewolf thing. The hyena always wanted you. I was doin' the whole 'denial' thing, of course, or maybe we'd...maybe we'd have been better friends. But you always felt - right to me." Oz pushed back lightly into Xander's hand, looking calmer, and Xander kept up the gentle caress, ignoring the want from Spike that threatened to drown him.

"Spike's right. You're no monster. You belong here. You're doing what most people in Sunnydale would never even consider doing. You're fighting the monsters they won't even acknowledge exist. You're doing the right thing, Oz. Nothing can change that. " Xander glanced up at Spike - sent a question through the link, and Spike raised his eyebrow and nodded, silent.

"We love you, Oz. Family, like Spike said."

Oz looked at Xander, his jade-green eyes steady and calm, finally, and infinitely old. There was sorrow there, but it was giving way before something else, and Xander had to smile, and Oz did too. The werewolf reached out and took Xander's hand in his - clasped it fiercely, the same with Spike's in his other hand. He looked between the two of them, and he seemed to have resolved something in himself - seemed to be putting aside the fear that had weighed him down for so long.

"Family, then." Oz said softly, and ducked his head, then looked back up and his smile was wider, almost laughing. "Thank you." Spike leaned forward, slipping his hand free and curving it around Oz's neck, pulling him close. The kiss that followed was slow and soft and utterly sensual, and Xander felt the tension and the want that had hovered all evening suddenly slam through him like a tidal wave, and he knew he made a small, desperate sound in the back of his throat, watching them. Oz's hand in his clenched down tight. Spike finally drew back, and Oz just sat there for a moment, eyes closed. When he opened them they were black, and Xander felt a twist of desire and excitement in his belly - felt it from Spike through the link, need pack need NOW and Xander pushed himself to his feet. He tugged the werewolf up, the heady scents of both Oz and Spike making him reel for a moment.

"C'mon Oz. Somethin' we gotta do. Somethin' for all of us, ok?"

"Ok," Oz breathed, and Spike slid down from the table, pausing only to blow out the kitchen candle and slip something out of a pocket in his duster. The radio had switched to a song now, soft flute, guitar, rat-a-tat of a drum. The three of them turned and walked into the dimly golden cave of the bedroom, and Spike quietly shut the door.

"I believe in fires at midnight when the dogs have all been fed.
A golden toddy on the mantle a broken gun beneath the bed.
Silken mist outside the window. Frogs and newts slip in the dark
too much hurry ruins the body. I'll sit easy… fan the spark
kindled by the dying embers of another working day.
Go upstairs … take off your makeup fold your clothes neatly away.
Me, I'll sit and write this love song as I all too seldom do
build a little fire this midnight. It's good to be back home with you."

The bedroom seemed warm, with the candle burning - faintly perfumed with sweet-grass and the citrus shampoo from the bathroom. Xander led Oz to the side of the bed and then stopped there, his robe falling open and his eyes huge and dark. Spike could hear their combined hearts, pounding in double-time; could hear Xander's breath shortening to pants and Oz's catching on a thin thread of noise - a whine that seemed to come involuntarily from his throat.

Spike shed his robe to the floor and moved up behind Oz. He lay his straight-razor, that he'd snatched out of his duster, at the foot of the bed, and put his hands lightly on Oz's hips. The wolf twitched, nerves and startlement, and Spike bent a little and nuzzled into his still-damp hair. The earthy scent of the wolf was strong, and Spike breathed it in - moved his face down to the frail skin at the nape of Oz's neck and just hovered there for a moment.

Oz twitched again, and Spike felt Xander's hands skim his - slide up Oz's t-shirt and cradle the werewolf's jaw. Xander bent and kissed Oz, gentle and slow, a mirror of what Spike had done in the kitchen, and Oz made another thready sound, a whimpering noise that made Spike want to pounce on him and kiss him - fuck him - until that sound became a scream. want want want was the only coherent thing from the link, and Spike felt the first tremble of almost uncontrollable arousal - the need that was driving all three of them.

The demon, wanting to take and have. It was like some hot and coiling snake, slithering out from his belly and lacing through his bones, and Spike groaned and pressed his mouth to Oz's neck - began to kiss; behind his ear, his jaw, along the edge of the t-shirt. He slid his fingers up under the hem of the shirt and pushed, lifting it, and Xander finally broke their kiss, gasping a little, letting Spike maneuver the shirt over Oz's head and toss it aside. Xander gave a little roll of his shoulders and his own robe slithered free of him, puddling around his feet.

Spike stepped closer, pressing his chest to Oz's back and the werewolf gasped, shivering. Spike ran his hands down Oz's arms, tracing the curve and swell of bicep and triceps, the delicate bones of forearm and wrist and the long, agile fingers. He lifted Oz's hands up, bringing them around to rest on his own hips, and Oz clutched fiercely, grinding back. Xander had leaned in for more kisses - quick, nibbling ones all along the werewolf's jaw and throat and chest. He lingered over the pale circles of Oz's nipples, grazing with his tongue and then with his teeth, and Oz made that noise again, tipping his head back, his eyes closed and his mouth open.

Spike couldn't tear his eyes from the pale, fragile sweep of Oz's throat, and he bent swiftly and grazed his teeth over the jugular. Whimper. Harder pressure of teeth and the whimper was louder - needier. Oz's pulse jumped and fluttered under Spike's mouth, and a soft moan escaped him.

Xander slipped to his knees, his eyes fixed on Spike's, and his hands rose and tugged, pulling Oz's sweats down and then off, carefully disentangling them from his feet. Spike tore his gaze away from Xander's and looked down, at a heaving belly, jutting curve of hipbone, dense triangle of dark, auburn hair. Oz's cock was straining upwards, darkly engorged and slick.

Xander put his hands on Oz's hips, stroking the knob of bone under pale skin, pushing up to trail his fingernails over the edge of the ribcage that came and went with each panting breath the werewolf took. Xander dipped his head down, rubbing his cheek into the crease of flesh between Oz's hip and thigh, licking and sucking, and Oz moaned, bucking forward, his rich scent intensifying, the wetness at the tip of his cock pulsing out, shivering droplets. Oz's fingers dug into Spike's buttocks, almost painful, the pressure of his buttocks on Spike's cock delicious and teasing.

"What's he taste like, Xander - taste him - " Spike whispered, and Xander swayed upright and extended his tongue, lapping delicately.

Oz strained against Spike's hold on his wrists - twisted his hips forward, but Xander pushed him back, and Spike felt his own erection slip along the channel between sweat-slicked buttocks, making him press harder. Oz was gasping helplessly now, his knees bending as Xander took the tip of his cock between his lips and sucked gently. Then suddenly Xander stood, whole-body slither, and he was pressing his mouth to Spike's, tongue slipping inside and the werewolf's taste exploded across Spike's tongue, mixed with Xander's own unique flavor. They both surged forward, pressing into Oz's trembling flesh, and Spike broke away from Xander's mouth to pant harshly in Oz's ear.

"You taste like almonds, wolfling - like earth and almonds and - " Spike let one of Oz's hands go and lifted his own hand to turn Oz's head, bending in for a kiss that was rough and demanding, deep as he could go. Oz tasted like almonds there, too, and Xander was suddenly stepping away, up against the bed.

"Oz - I want you. We do. Is that - " Xander stopped, his hand lifting and coming to rest on the pale shoulder, rubbing there. "Is this ok? Will this be ok?" want scared through the link, and Spike knew what Xander was saying - took a step back, letting go, not touching at all and the wolfling swayed a little, his breathing rough and rapid.

"You gotta - gotta say yes or no, Oz. I don't want - don't want this to be wrong." Oz put his hand over Xander's, holding it still, looking up at him and his eyes cleared, wholly human.

"I want it. I need it. The wolf does. It's like I'm lost out here, just...drifting. I - we need to be - part of something. Tied to something. It hurts - " Oz stopped, head bowed, and Spike moved forward, enfolding the smaller, leaner body - pulling Oz back until they were touching along their whole length, no gaps between. Xander stepped close again, doing the same, holding Oz safe pack tightly between them. Spike could feel the werewolf's heartbeat, strong and rapid and steady, and he inhaled the combined scents of the three of them. It was a warm, heady mix and Spike felt the purr start in his chest, almost more vibration then sound, and Oz laughed.

"God, that's... " he twisted around to flash a grin up at Spike, teeth and the wolf's eyes, and Xander stepped away again, backing up into the bed and collapsing back on it.

"Bring him here, Spike...wanna..." Xander wormed upwards, ending propped on his elbows, legs in a wanton sprawl. Spike grasped the slender hips in his hands and steered Oz forward, knee behind knee, nudging him up onto the bed. At the last moment Xander twisted aside and Oz was on his belly, head bowed between his shoulders, trembling.

Spike lay on the other side of the werewolf, the purr fading, and he and Xander began to work they way down the pale body, licking and kissing and biting, going from feather-light touches to bruisingly hard ones. Their hands stroked afterwards, their own erections digging into Oz's hips or thighs. Oz whimpered, gasped, moaned aloud. His hands clenched in the quilt and his hips writhed, digging into the mattress. Spike motioned to Xander, sending an image through the link and Xander immediately complied. He tugged at Oz until the werewolf lay over him, groin to belly. Xander bent his knees, getting them between Oz's thighs and pushing them apart, all the while holding his jaw and kissing him. Spike's mouth moved from Oz's nape down his spine, trailing wetness, leaving little bruise marks from teeth and suction. Spike lay flat on the bed, letting his tongue slip between the tautly muscled buttocks, gathering the dark, salty flavor of the werewolf into his mouth. His tongue glided over puckered flesh and the slick perineum, and he gently pulled Oz's scrotum into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue. Oz bucked, gasping, and Xander's hands slid down, combing briefly through Spike's hair before going back up to knead Oz's back and shoulders. Spike let his tongue slip back up, to probe gently and then to push in, and Oz cried out, shuddering. Spike continued to fuck the werewolf with his mouth, stabbing and licking and going as deep as he could until Oz was grinding into Xander, his head down on Xander's shoulder, fists clenched in the quilt, and his voice breaking, trembling:

"Please, please, Spike - please, need it, need you, please - " Xander stretched, reaching, and Spike felt the lube being pushed into his hand. He flipped it open and slicked himself, his own want a fierce ache in his belly, his face rippling between human and demon, barely in control. Xander let his legs fall - did a quick re-arrangement of limbs and Oz was on his knees, face to Xander's chest. Xander lifted his legs, opening himself, and Oz yipped in startlement when Spike's cool, slick hand reached around and coated him in lube. He pumped forward mindlessly into the loose grip and Spike withdrew. He sent a question to Xander can you and Xander responded by pulling Oz closer, legs around the werewolf's ribs.

"Oz, come on - want you in me, Oz - want you to fuck me..." Xander whispered, and Oz lifted his head and moved, a little clumsy, shaking hand guiding himself forward to rest against and then push into Xander. Xander arched his back and groaned, but it was want yes NOW through the link and Spike scrambled to his knees - put a hand on Oz's hip and rubbed the tip of his cock down, into the slick crease, and then he, too, was pushing, pushing in, and Oz threw his head back, his breathing rapid and hoarse, his mouth open. Then Spike was in, going deeper, and he pushed harder and Oz was going deeper and Xander was writhing, urging him forward, chanting breathlessly.

"Oz, fuck, so good, Spike...ooh... " his voice choked off as Spike surged forward again, deep as he could go and Oz howled, and then the three of them were moving, thrusting, finding the rhythm that worked, and Spike set his teeth on Oz's shoulder, holding and letting the prickle of fangs spur Oz on. They strove together, breathless, fingers leaving bruises, nails scratching. Spike pinched at Oz's nipples, reached and did the same to Xander, and Oz was trembling now, gasping, and Spike suddenly reached behind him, feeling over the quilt until his fingers found the chill, flat shape of the straight razor. He pushed forward hard, crushing Oz down onto Xander and the two of them cried out. Xander's eyes were wide and glinting green in the candle-glow, and Spike bared his fangs at him in a snarl.

"Hold still, hold still wolfling." They all three were frozen, trembling, Xander and Oz panting harshly, Spike feeling the demon fighting for control - desperate to claim the werewolf for its own - be the Master of the nest, the pack. But Spike didn't take without asking - not in this, not with Oz.

"We want you to taste our blood, wolf. Take us into you - take y