Something Rich and Strange

by
Tabaqui

25 Encounter

Slow, slow push - pause - slow pull out. And again, and again. Xander tightened his calves around Spike's ribs - ran shaking hands over neck and shoulders and tense, quivering biceps.

Spike...love you...love you, ohhh Above him, golden sparks drifted; demon's eyes, watching him as unwaveringly as he watched back.

So fucking perfect, pet...love you, Xander, love you so much

Oh god... Xander raised his hips a little higher, trembling. His whole body felt as if it were being shot through with an electrical pulse, over and over. A tingling, warming judder every time Spike moved - pressed there. His legs ached - his throat was dry from panting. But he didn't want it to end; he didn't want Spike to stop moving, stop touching, stop being right there, so close he barely knew which was his own body and which was Spike's. A delicious fusion - the link open wide and ghost-sensation of fucking while he was being fucked making him bite his lip bloody - making him clench inner muscles down tight. The feeling was almost more than he could bear, but he loved it. Loved having Spike there in his head. All the lonely years of his childhood sloughing from him like snakeskin - being replaced with this new thing - this Spikeskin of utter want and need and love - blood and sweetness in equal measure. He pulled at the back of Spike's neck, wanting him closer, and Spike obliged; dipping down to kiss him as slowly as he was fucking him -making minute punctures along his neck, just teasing the claim-scar. Xander bit back, not even breaking the skin, hissing in pleasure as Spike's measured thrusts begin to get a little ragged - hurried. Xander mouthed Spike's mark - let his teeth sink in just a bit. Spike's face was pressed tight into him now and Xander felt the change as Spike let the demon all the way out. He ran his hands up over Spike's neck and head and lifted the vampire's face just a little - let his fingertips caress the demon visage, finding the places that make Spike mewl in pleasure. Shuddered a little at the echo that came back to him. His own face tingling in pleasure, his own body arching up and taking Spike further in.

Mine mine always mine... Hypnotic murmur from the demon and Xander tipped his head back and urged forward with his hands and the link and Spike claimed him again, bone-deep spasm of pure bliss. His orgasm was almost painful - almost too much. Spike was gasping now, thrusting into him hard enough to shake the bed, and Xander did his own reclaiming, groaning in pleasure as the blood sparked over his tongue and rushed through him like pins and needles - little jolts of lightning.

Afterwards Spike just collapsed on him, rumbling purr like an engine vibrating through them both, and Xander had to laugh at what that felt like; feeling it in his own chest and half-convinced he could do it too, if Spike just kept at it long enough - let him learn it from the inside out.

Keep you here all night, all day - forever. Don't need to get up. Wolfling can feed us... Xander laughed aloud, trying to hug Spike closer.

"Fuck, I could do that. Does that mean I'm some sort of...weirdo, that I could do that?"

"Means you're smart," Spike mumbled, licking like a cat at the beads of blood and sweat on Xander's neck - kneading his fingers into Xander's back and making him laugh again.

You're so sweet...big fluffy kitty-pire...still need to get you that collar. And that little surge of oh fuck yeah made him catch his breath and groan. Xander entertained himself for a few minutes showing Spike exactly what sort of collar - what sort of game - and Spike whimpered into his neck, writhing against him and getting hard again - getting Xander hard with him, sharing his arousal.

Want you IN me, Xander - fuck... Spike moved - rolled them over, his thighs fanning wide and taking Xander in - pulling him in. Second time they've done this tonight and Xander pushed forward into still-slick flesh. Spike arched up hard - groaned - urged Xander on with sharp nails and a progression of that little kitty fantasy that left Xander gasping - pounding in. This time, when it was over, Xander was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to move for hours.

Thank god it's the weekend, Spike, love, can't move, ooohh... Xander kissed what he could reach - shoulder, collarbone - and just panted, his heart pounding. Demon-blood had changed him, but he still had his limits, even if the limits were a lot further out then they used to be. Spike ran his fingers slowly back through Xander's hair, half asleep himself and the purr cutting in and out. Xander giggled softly.

"You're gonna get a spankin' if you don't quit that," Spike muttered and Xander gave a half-hearted wiggle, feeling the tug of drying semen on their bellies.

"Oooh, promise?"

"Mmmm..." Spike brought one hand down on Xander's buttock, barely enough force to make a sound and Xander snuggled in a little closer.

Gonna be gross in the morning.

"What?" Xander raised his head and looked at Spike, who lifted up an inch and kissed him.

"Wolfling's coming down the street. Guess we play possum?"

"Oh. Guess so. Don't wanna embarrass Derio." Xander caught it now, the pulse of frost night moon that whispered Oz.

"Huh. Don't think we could."

"Oh, sure we could," Xander said, and sent an image - Spike, handcuffs, whipped cream, the kitchen table - that made Spike shake with laughter.

Well, okay, yeah. That might well do it, pet." Spike sighed and settled Xander over him again, shifting a little so Xander could get his hands under his shoulders.

Like him. He's good for the wolfling.

Yeah. "He told me his grandma is a - lyalochas? A priestess, back in Puerto Rico."

"Lyalochas - Santeria. Huh."

"You know what that is?" Xander lifted his head from Spike's shoulder and looked at him, utterly unable to keep from grinning into the sleepy blue eyes and contented smile that greeted him.

"Oh, a little bit. It's - one a those religions that started in the islands somewhere when the bloody Catholics tried to convert their slaves. Old religion with a Christian cover so they wouldn't be found out."

"Oh." Xander leaned down to kiss - shifted a little and then froze at the sound of a van door being slammed. "He said that's why he knows about the Hellmouth - she told him about it."

"Huh." Spike kissed him back and then heaved a deep sigh, closing his eyes. "Gotta patrol tomorrow, gotta take care of the Bit..."

"Yeah," Xander shut his own eyes, feeling that drifting feeling of almost-asleep coming over him fast. The front door creaked a bit, opening, and there were a few moments of scuffling and stifled laughter as Oz and Derio got the sofa-bed unfolded. Faint pulse through the link; Oz just content - happy to be home and happy to be with Derio and Xander smiled into Spike's chest and slept.

Patrol was - weird. There was just a strange sort of vibe in the air, and Spike wondered if it was because of Glory or something else. The Slayer and her Watcher had gone out of town on some sort of vision quest, and Spike had been hoping they'd get to do some real damage on patrol - maybe even find some of Glory's scabby little minions and see how much pain they could endure. But there wasn't anything around - everything seemed to be gone or in hiding and Xander and Oz both commented on it, uneasy.

"Doubt it's anything but this bloody Glory. She's got everybody spooked. She's been tryin' to recruit - doin' a sort of 'you're with me or you're dying a slow painful death' kind of thing." Spike couldn't keep a bit of admiration out of the link - that was the proper way to do things, after all - and Xander poked him in the ribs.

"Supposed to be on our side, evil undead," he said, and Spike poked him back, grinning.

"Can't help it if I think she's got the right idea. Won't help her, though. She's still gonna be dead as soon as we figure out how. I still think if me and the Slayer -"

"No, no, and no, Spike!" Xander was frowning now, and Spike cocked an eyebrow at him, patting the duster pockets for his cigarettes. "We talked about that - you and Buffy aren't going to do anything as crazy as taking her on alone. Especially now that we know she does that ...mind suck thing." Xander shuddered and Spike shrugged, lighting up.

"She wouldn't know what hit her," he mumbled.

"Wonder if you could drain her? I mean - god blood. Gotta be good stuff," Oz mused, and Xander poked him.

"Stop that! Don't give him any ideas, Oz!" Oz just grinned, and Spike winked at him behind Xander's back.

Know you did that! in the link and Spike laughed out loud.

"Oh, pet, don't -" Spike stopped abruptly, listening, and they shared a look between them - as one began to trot through the cemetery. There was a fight going on somewhere up ahead. They dove through a stand of trees and stopped in consternation. Two vamps, circling - one limping. And Buffy, stake at the ready. One vamp lunged forward and Buffy whirled and kicked and pounced, dusting him. The limping vamp looked as if he wanted to run away but a moment later Buffy flattened him and then she was standing up, dusting off her hands. She glanced over at them and stared for a minute, then walked over.

"Hey Buff, I thought you were out of town - doin' that dreamy visiony questy thing with Giles?"

"Xander. You build things," Buffy said, and Spike snorted, flicking his cigarette butt away.

"No points for statin' the obvious, Slayer," he said, and Buffy turned to look at him.

"Spike. You're a vampire," she said - and launched herself at him, her hand and her stake going up and coming down with deadly intent. Spike dodged, astonished, and kicked her in the back of the knee, making her reel. Xander and Oz were both frozen for one long moment and then they tackled her, pinning her to the ground. She fought back, almost heaving the both of them off, and Oz wolfed a little, growling. Spike stomped on her wrist and snatched the stake away - kneeled over her legs and snarled at her, demon-faced and furious.

"Slayer, what the fuck are you doing!"

"Buffy! Spike's not the enemy anymore!" mine mine MINE! from the hyena and

Not pack! from the wolf, anger and bewilderment in equal measure. Buffy stared at them - abruptly stopped struggling.

"Of course he's not. I knew that." She blinked and smiled, and Xander recoiled just a bit. The smile was - strange.

What in hell -

Smells wrong from Oz, and Spike took in a deep breath - realized it was so.

"Let me up, please," Buffy said, and they exchanged glances.

"You gonna behave, Slayer?"

"Of course I am." That weird smile again, and they slowly got off her. She sat up and brushed her hair back, frowning at the dirt on her hands. Spike crouched by her feet, watching her.

"Slayer, that - vision quest thing - it didn't involve...peyote or some such, did it?" Buffy blinked at him - frowned.

"Of course not! Drugs are for losers." She stood up and brushed off the seat of her pants. "Now I have to go patrol some more. Good night." She strode away, looking determined, and the three of them slowly got to their feet.

"Okay. That was -"

"Weird," Xander finished, and Oz nodded. "Do you think the vision quest thing screwed her up?"

"Dunno. She smelled like..." Spike paused, thinking over the sense-memory in his head.

"Chemicals. Or..." Xander shrugged, looking puzzled. "Like plastic. Like she had a new raincoat on or something. But she didn't."

"Weird," Oz said, and Spike lit another cigarette.

"Let's go to the Slayer's house. See if maybe the witches know something," he said finally, and Xander and Oz agreed. Oz was thinking Derio in the link - thinking he needed to call him, tell him not to wait up, and Xander and Spike both felt guilt over that. But Oz just shook his head at them, grinning a little. Derio knew - and understood, and he'd asked, not long after meeting them, just what Spike was.

"Get these...feelings, sometimes. From my abuela, from my granny." A shrug. "Mom says."

"Feeling - what?" Spike asked, for once utterly serious, and Derio had looked at him across the table at the Bronze, his eyes a little distant, his fingers absently finding and turning a green glass bead threaded on a dreadlock.

"Feeling...heat. And - movement? Like you're flame. Always something...bright, in the corner of my eye. Something that makes me feel...safe." Spike hadn't said anything, then, and Xander had wanted very much to use the seeing, and know what Derio looked like. But he hadn't, and Oz had touched Derio's hand and nodded at Spike.

"Vampire, Derio. An old one." Derio had looked at Spike - nodded once, like that explained everything.

Later, Spike had sat staring blankly at the pages of a book until Xander had nudged him, and then Spike had looked quizzically over at him, head to one side.

"You think he can see me...us?" Spike had asked, and Xander had thought about that.

"I think he can see...what you are."

"What am I, then?"

"Special. Mine. Best beloved."

At the Summer's house, the witches, Dawn, and Anya were playing Monopoly, all of them wearing pyjamas. Spike leered appreciatively at Tara and Willow and Anya - chucked Dawn under the chin.

"Havin' a sleepover then? Gonna braid your hair and talk about that - Timberlot fellow?"

"Timberlake, Spike, and I am so not into him. Anymore." Dawn blushed and Spike laughed - threw himself down on the couch next to her.

"Spike, you're wearing eye liner." Anya observed. Spike shrugged, sending a quick, laughing glance towards Xander.

"Thought I'd give the bad guys a thrill." Anya shook her head, but she was smiling.

"So - how'd the vision quest thing go for Buffy?" Xander asked, settling on the floor between Willow and Tara. Oz sprawled down next to Anya and admired her piles of play money.

"Oh, well, see, we don't know about the vision quest thing 'cause - she's not back from the vision quest thing. They'll be back tomorrow." Willow tugged at her robe nervously and Spike grinned at her.

"No - I mean - we just saw her. Out patrolling." Willow looked at Tara - at Anya - and there was a sudden frission in the air. Fear, maybe. Spike felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, and he sat up, growling just a little.

"She's not come home early, then? Are you sure?"

"Well, of course we're sure; she'd have come straight here, wouldn't she? I mean - she would, right?" Willow looked at Tara again, anxiously, and Tara took her hand.

"Sure she would, sweetie."

"Or maybe she had to de-brief. You know - put down her experiences or something so she went to Mr. Giles house instead," Anya said. She straightened a stack of blue money and smiled. "I like this game."

"Yeah - maybe that's what she did. I think I'll call Giles, just to be sure." Xander got up and went into the kitchen for the 'phone, unease in the link. Spike exchanged glances with Oz - settled back down on the sofa.

"So - what do you mean you just saw her? Where were you?" Dawn asked, looking worried.

"Sunnydale Memorial.," Oz said. "She dusted a couple vamps and..." He stopped, frowning, and Spike picked up where he's left off.

"And had a little chat with us." He glanced up at Xander who was coming back into the living room. He was frowning as well. "No joy then, pet?"

"Huh? No. I mean, no answer at Giles place. I think... I think we'll go by there, see if he's home and just - in the shower or something. Oz -" Watch Dawn?

Yeah. Careful

Safe as houses, wolf.

"Think I'll stay and try to buy Anya out," Oz said, sitting up and scooting closer to the coffee table.

"In your dreams, Mowgli," Anya chuckled, cracking her knuckles. They stared at her. Anya stared back. "Hey, I like Disney, too."

"Oh! We have double-fudge almond ice cream, Oz, want some?" Willow bounced to her feet and Oz smiled up at her.

"Sure Willow." Willow bustled off and Spike stood up, ruffling Dawn's hair.

"You stay in now, hear me, Bit?" Dawn stuck out her tongue.

"Duh. I'm in my pj's already, Spike!"

"Just sayin', Bit." Let's go

"Okay, we'll swing by later, after we check Giles' place." Xander waved and Tara stood up, walking them to the door.

"Do you think its okay?" she asked softly, and Spike looked over her shoulder at Dawn and Anya, who were squabbling over whether or not to start fresh or just let Oz start in the middle.

"It'll be fine, Glinda. Just a little mix up or something." Spike held her gaze for a moment and Tara finally nodded.

"Okay - you guys be careful."

"Ta, pet." Spike and Xander slipped out the door and down the walk, and by the time they'd reached the end of the block they were running.

Giles' place was dark and locked - he wasn't home, his car wasn't there. They decided to go by the Magic Box, just in case, and Xander fretted as they jogged down side streets.

Be all right, love.

Yeah...but... He couldn't shrug off his feeling of wrongness, and it only got worse when they found the Magic Box as deserted as Giles' apartment. They swung back through the cemetery but if Buffy was still around, they didn't find her. Then they went by the Bronze - Willy's - anyplace they could think of. They even roamed over the UCS campus, but everything was quiet.

Too quiet Spike thought, and Xander snorted in amusement - looked over at Spike who was grinning around a cigarette, walking along the top of the wall outside of yet another cemetery - Peaceful Rest or something. At the moment, Xander couldn't even remember.

"Who names cemeteries, anyway? They all have these terrible, cheesy names."

"Well, most humans would be upset if they called 'em 'Worm Buffet' or 'Last Stop before Hell Gardens'," Spike said, doing a jump-step over a decorative piece of wrought iron. Xander rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I guess. Makes more sense, though."

Everybody wants to hide from death the soldier mumbled, and Xander winced a little. The soldier had been - down, lately. Xander had no idea why, unless it was because he repeatedly squashed the soldier's more fanciful solutions to the Glory problem. Hijacking nuclear waste being the latest.

He's right, though. Spike thought, and Xander rolled his eyes.

"Jeez, don't encourage him. He's so...moody, lately."

"He just needs to work out some frustrations," Spike said, jumping down and pinning Xander against the wall. Several minutes of intense 'snogging' at least made the soldier shut up, and they made their way in a convolute fashion back to the Summer's house, arms around each other's waists. Oz was out front, swinging slowly in the porch swing, looking more like a fox than a wolf at the moment. He'd re-dyed his hair the dark henna-red but tipped it with gold and bronze, so that the pale, spiked ends made a sort of glowing halo against the porch light. The house was dark and quiet - the girls all in bed.

Pack safe softly, and Xander and Spike joined him, Spike pulling out his flask and having a little sip.

"So, no Buffy?" Xander asked.

"No Buffy. No Giles?"

"Nope." They sat in silence for a long moment, and then Oz sighed.

"I think we should stay here tonight. It feels..." Wrong. Bad.

"Yeah. Think you're right, wolf." They sat out a while longer, but it was nearly four a.m. and Xander and Oz were yawning. Spike said he'd make one more quick patrol - he was hungry - and Xander and Oz went inside to light-proof the living room. They made a pallet on the floor, moving quietly, and Xander felt his heart almost stop when he saw a figure on the stairs.

"Christ, Dawn! What are you doing up!" he said in a harsh whisper.

"I was hungry," Dawn said, crossing her arms over her chest and scowling. "Can't I get a snack in my own house?" Xander went over to her - put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her.

"Sure you can, Dawnster. You just startled me is all."

"Your eyes were all - green," Dawn said, looking uncertainly up at him, and Xander grinned at her, urging her off the last step and into the kitchen.

"Yeah. Just the hyena, you know? It can't hurt you."

"Oh. Yeah. I'm not afraid of him - he thinks I'm part of your - your pack." Dawn climbed up on a stool at the island and Xander opened the 'fridge.

"Yeah, that's right. It - he - does. So, what's it gonna be? Pizza, fried chicken, or... ummm....gah." Xander held a Tupperware at arms length, eyeing the greenish contents with trepidation.

"I think that's the leftover beef stew Buffy made. She's discovered the crock pot."

"It's turned, then."

"No, that's what it was like when she made it." They giggled together, and Dawn settled for a slice of cold pizza and a glass of milk. Oz wandered in and dug out crackers and cheese, and Xander made a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich. They ate in companionable silence, and all three of them jumped when the back door creaked open.

"Everybody havin' a snack, then? Dawn! You should be in bed." Spike stood in the doorway, faintly outlined by the paling sky, and Dawn frowned at him.

"Sheesh! My house! Late night snack! Over the age of six! Get over it, guys." Dawn chugged her milk and Spike grinned and shut the door - snagged a cheese-and-cracker sandwich from Oz.

All quiet?"

Sunnydale is dead, pet. Xander chuckled and reached for the peanut butter - flinched and almost dropped it when Dawn squealed.

"Spike! You - there's blood! Are you hurt?" She jumped off her stool and darted over to him - reached with her napkin to dab at a streak of blood on Spike's jaw.

"Is there? No, I'm not hurt, Niblet."

"But - where did..." Dawn stared up at him and then a huge grin threatened to crack her face in two. "I knew it! I talked to Anya about it and she said she thought so, and now I know!"

"Know what, Bit?" What the hell?

No idea. Dawn glanced around - leaned in close to Spike.

"You got the chip out, didn't you." They all three stared at her in shock, and Dawn cackled and bounced in place like a demented old crone. "I knew it!"

"Uh, Dawnie -" Fuck, Spike, what -

"Don't worry, Xander, I won't tell anybody. I mean, Spike's good now, so I know he's only eating people that are, you know, murderers and child molesters and stuff. Anya said 'once a demon always a demon' but I know you wouldn't kill innocent people, Spike."

Good grief.

Can't hide anything from the Bit. Spike looked smug, but also a bit anxious.

"Listen, Niblet...you're right. It's - gone. But let's just keep it quiet, ok? Red - doesn't need to know."

Spike!

Be all right. Niblet's all right.

Yeah, but...sheesh. Xander, Spike and Oz exchanged glances - looked at Dawn.

"Does Buffy know?"

"Yeah, an' the Watcher. I just think Red might - hold a grudge, you know?"

"'Cause you tried to bite her that one time? Buffy told me all about it. I don't think she'd mind."

"Oh, I think she'd mind, Dawn. Let's just keep it our secret, ok?" Xander didn't like that - lying to Dawn - but he wasn't about to tell her about Spike's drunken threats to Willow, either, ages ago when Dru had first left him. The three of them had discussed it, and they just didn't feel...right...telling Willow. She made the wolf and the hyena nervous as hell and the soldier didn't trust her. The demon hated all things magical, oddly enough, and all of that just made Xander second-guess himself. He trusted Willow, but he couldn't put aside the others' feelings, and had reluctantly agreed not to tell her. She didn't really need to know, Spike had said, and if she doesn't ask, there's no need to bring it up. They had no idea if Buffy or Giles had ever spoken about it - it tended not to come up.

Oz thought Tara probably knew, because her abilities to see below the surface were far stronger than she let on. But she'd never mentioned it, and they knew if they told her, they'd have to tell Willow. So for now, the witches were being kept in the dark. Xander didn't like it, but he didn't feel like he had a choice. He glanced unhappily at Spike, then back to Dawn.

"You're right Dawn. Spike is good now, so we don't need to make Willow worry." Xander tried to keep a straight face at the mental barrage of curses and threats that Spike was sending him - Oz didn't even try but laughed helplessly over the cheese. Spike glared at them and stalked into the living room, and Dawn took her glass over to the sink.

"I can tell Anya I'm right though, can't I? She promised she'd buy me anything I wanted off of eBay if I was right." Oz snorted and began wrapping up the cheese and crackers, and Xander got the dishcloth to wipe the island down.

"Oh, why not. Just tell her not to babble it to Tara and Willow, ok? Spike won't hurt them - any of us - so..."

"Okay Xander. We'll keep it our little secret."

"How - what made you think it was gone, anyway?" Xander asked, curious. Dawn looked thoughtful for minute.

"Anya was talking about it. She said - Spike acted different. And then, she saw him down at the Bronze one night and some guy was hassling him over a pool game and he punched him and Anya said it didn't hurt him. I thought maybe the guy was another demon but... she was right. He does act different. More like when he first came here. For a while he was just...angry all the time." Dawn looked seriously over at Xander. "He is good now, right?"

"As good as he'll ever be, Dawn. You don't have to be scared of him, though. He'd never hurt you."

"I know." Dawn grinned up at Xander and bounced into the living room and a moment later the curses started through the link again as Dawn started asking Spike rapid-fire questions about the chip, who he hunted, how it had happened...

Xander! Get in here! Get her off me!

Big Bad needs some help, huh? Xander tossed the dishcloth down and he and Oz went into the living room. Spike was on the pallet on his back, a pillow over his head, and Dawn was sitting on his stomach pummeling the pillow and whisper-shouting Talk! Talk! Talk!

"C'mon, Dawn, don't torment the poor vampire." Dawn pouted but rolled off Spike - snuggled down on the pallet.

"I wanna sleep down here." She saw the look Xander and Oz shared and sniffed a little. "I'm scared upstairs by myself, with Buffy not here and everything... She's okay, isn't she?" This time the sniff sounded genuine, and Spike came out from under the pillow, shoving it under his head.

"She's fine, Bit. I think her - quest thing - must have been pretty intense, is all, and she just wanted some privacy to work it all out."

"Yeah?"

"Sure, poppet." Dawn smiled tremulously at Spike and Spike reached out and gently petted her hair. Xander sat down heavily and took off his boots - tossed them into the corner with Oz's and then started on Spike's laces.

And I thought my childhood was weird. Vampires and werewolves and Hellgods -

Oh my double chorus from Spike and Oz at the same moment and Xander grinned down at Spike's boot-laces, wrenching a knot free.

"You can sleep on the couch, Dawn. It's softer then the floor."

"No, wanna stay down here with you guys," Dawn mumbled, and Xander could see her eyes were closed.

Oh man, she's out. Think it'd be okay...?

It'll be fine. We'll tuck her up all warm. Spike sat up carefully and pulled off his duster - grabbed a blanket from the stack by the couch and draped it over Dawn. Oz padded into the downstairs bathroom, and after a couple of minutes the wolf trotted out. He stood on Spike's legs, bumping his nose into Spike's chest, then Xander's, Pack love you.

Love you too, wolf. Oz yipped very softly and then curled up on the other side of Dawn, nose on paws. Xander got Spike's boots off then grabbed another blanket and lay down next to Spike - sighed happily when Spike spooned up behind him, holding him close.

Love you Oz. Love you, Spike, my Spike. Be all right, huh?

Love you too pet. It'll be fine.

26 Hurt

Xander woke when Buffy shrieked his name, and he groaned and tried to sit up. Spike seemed dead to the world - fast asleep - and Xander tried to squirm free of his hold.

"Xander! What is going on! Why are you - why is Dawn sleeping with Spike!"

Oh fuck "Buffy -"

"She's not sleepin' with me, Slayer, she's sleepin' with the wolfling," Spike growled.

Spike! Let me go!

Well fuck... If you let me go I can make her stop shouting. Spike sighed heavily and let Xander go, and he scrambled out from under the blanket and got up. Spike immediately moved into his spot and pulled the blanket over his head, and Xander surreptitiously kicked him. Bastard. I'm still tiiired.

Make it go 'way. Spike thought, and Xander ran his hands back through his hair, wincing at tangles. Buffy stood in the doorway of the living room, hands on hips, an outraged expression on her face. Giles stood behind her, a hold-all over his shoulder. They both looked tired and a little sunburned.

"Care to explain, Xander?"

"Maybe keep your voice down, Buffy, Dawn's -"

"Wide awake. Thanks a lot, Buff." Dawn sat up, scowling, and then smiled when she saw the wolf. She hugged him around the neck and started scratching behind his ears and Likes me best, smugly from Oz.

Oh good god. Xander shook his head in disbelief. "Lemme just get in the bathroom real quick and then we'll talk, okay? Maybe have some coffee?" Xander couldn't keep the plaintive note out of his voice and Buffy finally relaxed a little - let the frown subside. Giles shook his head and moved past her, heading for the kitchen.

"Right. Fine. Dawn, go get dressed. You're in your pyjamas at two in the afternoon with three men!"

"A wolf, a vampire, and Xander, Buffy. None of them count."

"Oh, thanks for that, Dawn," Xander snapped, stumbling towards the bathroom. Two? It's two?

"You know what I mean, Xander! Good grief." Dawn jumped up and ran upstairs, slamming her door, and Spike groaned.

"Shut the bloody hell up, people! Creature of the night here, tryin' to get in a decent kip!"

"Shut up, Spike," Buffy said, and stomped into the kitchen. Xander went in the bathroom - winced away from his reflection in the mirror and washed his face, used the toilet. He found himself zoning out on the mutant fish design on Oz's t-shirt that was on the toilet tank and finally nerved himself to leave. Oz trotted in and began a rapid change, reaching for his clothes.

"I'm supposed to be at the Magic Box," he said, and Xander shrugged.

"Anya'll probably understand." Xander said. Anya had hired herself at the Magic Box as 'Head of Acquisitions' and she frowned upon any other employees not being properly punctual. Oz looked at him.

"No she won't," they both said simultaneously, and Xander grinned and went into the kitchen. Giles was slumped on a stool at the island, looking half asleep, and Buffy was making coffee. There was a piece of paper in the middle of the island that said, in Willow's precise script: 'Gone to class, back around three-thirty, don't touch the green stuff in the Tupperware!' Xander sniggered half-heartedly at that.

"So, care to explain - this?" Buffy asked, gesturing towards the living room with the coffee pot. A little water slopped on the floor and she frowned at it.

"If you'll explain what the hell you were doing last night, attacking Spike."

"What?"

"She did what?"

"Giles! You know I didn't attack Spike last night!" Buffy glared at her Watcher and went to pour the water into the coffee maker. Giles ran his hand back over his hair and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes.

"Perhaps you'd better explain, Xander?" Xander climbed up onto a stool of his own and told the story, Oz coming in halfway through and confirming it. When he was done, Buffy and Giles stared at each other.

"Could it - Giles, if I was in a - trance, or something, could I have done some sort of...freaky out-of-body thing?"

"Buffy, I really don't think so." Giles looked baffled, frowning down at the sunflower placemat on the worktop.

"But you - it - whatever, was real. I mean - solid. You know?" Xander said, and Oz nodded.

"Real, but - you smelled off."

"I what?"

"This thing - whatever it was - smelled odd. Like...plastic. Or chemicals. It was weird." Oz wrinkled his nose at the scent-memory.

"Yeah. But - it sounded just like you, mostly. And looked just like you. You - it - dusted a couple of vamps, no problem." Buffy looked from Xander to Giles and then slowly got up and took some cups out of the cupboard.

"I don’t like the sound of this," she said, and Giles sighed.

"Nor do I. Perhaps we'd better do some research - see if there's anything about...golems or...simulacrums...something." Buffy poured the coffee and passed mugs out and they drank in silence until Dawn came into the kitchen, dressed and looking irritated.

"So why didn't you come home last night, Buffy? We were all really worried."

"I was in the desert last night, Dawn, talking to the first Slayer. Well, talking at the first Slayer. She just spouted all this mystical cryptic kind of stuff and ignored everything I said."

"But Spike and everybody saw you!"

"It wasn't me." Buffy said, and got up and got a box of cereal out of the cupboard - got a bowl.

"Oh." Dawn stared for a moment then shrugged, obviously happy to let it go. "Well - I called Janice while I was upstairs and she said if I come over right now I can go to the mall with her and her mom. So can I go?" Buffy stared into the 'fridge and Xander saw how tired she looked. How drawn.

She's...so worn out. he thought at Oz, and Oz nodded silently.

"Buffy!"

"Huh? Oh - yeah, sure. Mall. Back before dark, okay?"

"Thanks," Dawn said, smiling for the first time, and darted out of the kitchen to the front door. It slammed behind her and a loud groan came from the living room. A moment later Spike shuffled in, the blanket around his shoulders and his eyes squinted half shut. He had his flask in his hand and he opened it and poured a huge measure of whiskey into Xander's coffee - picked up the cup and drained it.

"Christ, do you people never shut up?" He leaned heavily on Xander, eyes closed, and Oz smirked into his cup. Giles did the glasses-polishing thing, which Xander had decided was an attempt to pretend he couldn't see what was right in front of him. Buffy just stared.

"Spike, is that eye-liner?" Xander suppressed a laugh.

"Poor vampire. You wanna go down the basement?" Xander moved Spike between his thighs and pulled him close, arms under the blanket.

"Damp down there." Spike nuzzled his face into Xander's neck, kissing, and Buffy rolled her eyes, pouring milk into her bowl.

"You guys are worse than Willow and Tara. And way worse than Oz and Derio."

"You haven't seen those two backstage at the Bronze," Xander said, and Buffy held up her hand.

"And I don't want to. Single girl here, don't need to be hit over the head with it." There was a small silence after that and Xander felt a little guilty.

Not your fault, pet.

"Buffy, I -"

"Xander, please. Don't... Just don't, okay? I'm - fine." She concentrated on pouring out some cereal, and Giles looked sadly at her for a moment before climbing wearily to his feet.

"I really must get home and get cleaned up - get some books. Buffy, you should rest and come down to the Magic Box after closing, see if we've found anything."

"Can I bum a ride, Giles? I’m supposed to be at the shop," Oz said, and Giles nodded.

"Of course, Oz. Gladly. We'll see all of you later." They left, and Buffy stirred her spoon around and around in the cereal then sighed and put the spoon down - leaned her head on her hands.

"So - what did the first Slayer tell you, Buffy? Anything - good?" Xander was slowly working his hands in under Spike's t-shirt.

"Huh." Buffy sat up, making a face. "Mostly just with the mumbo-jumbo. And then she told me..." Buffy trailed off and Spike shifted a little - sighed into Xander's neck.

"What'd she say, Slayer?"

"She said...death is my gift. What the hell is that supposed to mean? I mean, it can't be that I'm the Slayer, 'cause, news flash! I already know that. Stupid mystical guides. Never any help when you really need 'em." Buffy looked down at her bowl - grimaced and got up and dumped her untouched breakfast into the sink.

"I need to get a shower and change. I guess - you guys can hang out here until it's dark." She started to walk out of the kitchen - paused at the door.

"Thanks for taking care of Dawn, guys. And - I - I wouldn't try to kill Spike, Xander. Not anymore." Buffy's gaze was tired - earnest - so lonely, and Xander smiled gently at her.

"Sure Buff. I know. We know. We'll figure this out. No sweat."

"Yeah." Buffy smiled wanly at him and went away upstairs, and Spike finally lifted his head from Xander's shoulder and looked at him.

Love you love you.

"Yeah. Let's go get a couple more hours, huh?" Spike smiled at him.

"Brilliant."

By sunset, Spike was more then ready to go patrolling, and he, Xander and Buffy headed towards Sunnydale Memorial in the hopes of finding the other Buffy. Once again the cemetery was eerily deserted, and their Buffy finally gave up in frustration.

"I'm gonna head over to the Magic Box, guys, see if Giles has come up with anything."

"Okay Buff. We'll do one more round, see you there."

"Sure, Xander." Buffy strode off, and Spike sat down on a tombstone, his hands in the pockets of his duster.

"What a bloody boring night."

"Hey, no killing, running, screaming, or bleeding. Pretty good night to me." Xander leaned into Spike and started to kiss his neck, alternating with little bites. "And it's gonna get better," Xander murmured. Spike shivered, taking in a sharp breath and bringing his hands up, pulling Xander closer. Just sinking into the kiss. Warm, wet, tasting of gas-station lemonade and cheap, sweet chocolate. Something rustled in the grass behind him and Spike pulled away - started to turn. A fist rocked his head sideways and Spike snarled, leaping up and pushing Xander back.

Enemy! Xander stumbled a step and then went into a fight stance and Spike spun and went for the creature behind him.

Glory's little trolls! from Xander, and Spike focused long enough to see their brown robes and scabby, squinty little faces. Then he was fighting; a whirling, kicking dance that was second nature. But there were dozens, as well as some vamps and an assorted demon or two. Glory's recruits. Spike felt a chill come over him - this was wrong, it felt all wrong. Xander was holding his own, but they didn't seem to be attacking so much as -.

Ambush, pet. Too many. Let's - And then the other Buffy was there and suddenly Spike was fighting for his freedom if not his life as the other Buffy rained blows down on him and two other vamps and a handful of the little troll-acolytes jumped him at once. Too many, throwing a rope around his neck, one lucky shot around a wrist, a Nyrn latching onto the tail of his duster and pulling him off balance. Xander yelled - dove for him.

Spike! Get out of here, we've gotta - And fell.

Xander! Fuck, XANDER! The vamp who'd hit him threw the branch he'd swung away and Spike roared, having the satisfaction of seeing utter terror cross the vamp's face as he tried to lunge for him. But there were too many, too much weight, and the rope on his throat was pulling him down, and then another on the other wrist and suddenly he was on his knees - on his back - and the other Buffy swung her fist once, twice - Third time's the charm. muzzily, and everything went black.

Xander tasted...blood. And grass. And his head throbbed, like a dull-bladed knife that stabbed deep with every heartbeat. He tried to lift his head - groaned, and felt something on his back - on his neck.

Spike! What-

Pack. Safe. It was Oz, warm hands gentle on his shoulders - helping him roll over - and Xander groaned again. The streetlight he could see from his position seemed unnaturally bright and made a sharp spike of pain jab into his eyeballs. He closed his eyes tight.

Spike! "Oz - fuck - where's Spike? It was Glory's goons..."

"He's not here, Xander. I can't - feel him. Can you -?" Xander lay very still - reached out in the link, searching. Another stabbing pain made him gasp sharply and stop altogether.

"Damnit, my head, it's...it's messing with the link, I can't - push out very far. Oz - they got Spike, they - there were a bunch of 'em and - some vamps - and that other Buffy -"

"What? The other Buffy?" Buffy's voice and Xander let his eyes come open a tiny bit - saw her and Oz, blurry figures hovering over him.

"Yeah, she - they wanted him, they weren't trying to kill us, they - fuck, help me, Oz." Xander held out his hands and Oz took them - eased him upright. Xander's head seemed to explode with pain, and his stomach roiled - lurched - and he leaned to one side and was sick, clutching his head and gasping for breath afterwards.

"He's got a concussion, he's gotta get to the hospital -" Buffy's voice again, and Xander spat and spat - sat gingerly upright.

"No, Buffy - we gotta find Spike. I dunno why they took him but it can't be good. And I can't - he's alive but I can't - reach him. We've gotta go - get him." His stomach lurched again and he clamped his teeth shut.

"Xander -"

"Please Buffy - I'll be okay."

Sick from Oz, but he felt the werewolf's hands under his arms, gently lifting him to his feet. Xander struggled upright, gritting his teeth against the pain and the nausea. Buffy was on his other side in a moment, and he stood swaying between them.

"Let's get to the Magic Box, get you some aspirin at least - something. See what Giles says. He is the in-house expert on head trauma." Xander swallowed - opened his eyes all the way, finally, and took a deep breath - tried a weak smile in Buffy's direction.

"Okay. We'll do that. If it - stops hurting so much I know I can - hear him."

Heard you. Came fast. Oz was looking a bit shaky and Xander put his arm over the shorter man's shoulders, leaning on him a bit.

"Thanks Oz." Oz just nodded and they walked slowly out of the cemetery.

Xander! Fuck - pet - ANSWER me! Wolf - wolfling! Spike struggled, cursing, but the chains around his wrists were spelled - weren't ordinary - because he couldn't break them. He could feel Xander - knew he wasn't dead. But he couldn’t hear him. Nothing. And Oz - Oz wasn't that strong, in the link, and probably he wouldn't have been able to hear him, anyway. Spike's throat was on fire - the damn rope had been pulled punishingly tight - and it felt like a couple of ribs were badly bruised, maybe broken. Little bastards got in some licks while I was down. They'll regret that. He twisted in the chains, looking around him. He was in a posh flat; huge, with heavy draperies, plush sofas and chairs. Clothing, cosmetics, candy boxes and knick-knacks were strewn all over the place, and there was one of the little acolytes - bloody and grinning - hovering in a doorway.

"Ah. You're awake. Now you shall meet Glorificus!" The acolyte scuttled away and Spike wrenched at the chains again - hissed in anger and pain as his sore ribs protested and the chains didn't budge. There was a noise - something hitting a wall? - and the acolyte stumbled back in, more demons coming behind it and - her. Blonde, skinny, haughty; wearing a bored expression and a shimmery red dress. Spike revved up some mental gears and smirked at her.

"If it isn't Glory, goddess of - wait. Goddess of nothing much, right?"

"What is this?" Glory asked, staring at Spike. One of the acolytes bowed low, spreading its hands wide.

"Oh, your most magnificent Magnificence! It's the Key!" Glory stared at the demon and a frown slowly screwed up her features.

"The Key. My Key? You're telling me this is the Key."

"Oh yes, your Deliciousness! We -"

"It's not the Key." Spike jerked ever so slightly in startlement as a dark-haired boy stepped out of the room behind Glory. He was pale and broad, and the other Buffy trailed behind him. He shot Spike a look of loathing and turned to Glory.

"It's not the Key. It's a vampire. It hangs with the Slayer and her gang." Glory looked at the boy - reached out and dug her fingers into his hair, yanking him over so she could talk right into his ear.

"And what do I want with a vampire, Warren! I just want. My. Key!" She shouted the last, and Warren flinched and cringed, trying to pull away.

"Hey, hey! I told them to get it because it is a vampire! Just a soulless, inhuman monster! Do you really think it'd be loyal to the Slayer?" Glory stared at Spike, and he resisted the urge to laugh at her.

And what's with this 'it' business? Boy's got a problem...

"Oooh. Good thinking, Warren." Glory let him go - pushed him - and he slammed back into the wall, paler then before. He caught himself and straightened - brushed his shirt down and shot a glare at Spike. Glory walked up closer - walked around Spike once, and he felt her nails on the back of his neck - felt them dig in and tear down, opening his shirt and his skin in five blazing lines of pain that only stopped at his jeans.

"Ow! Stupid bint! Leave off!" Glory came around in front of him - idly licked one bloody nail.

"Hmmmm...you taste funny." Glory looked at him - reached up and did the same thing in the front, shredding his shirt and opening his chest and stomach. Spike reacted on pure instinct. His hands knotted in the chains, his legs came up and he kicked, both feet, as hard as he could. Glory stumbled back, looking stunned and then furious.

"Hey! You don't kick me, you stupid vampire! Those boots are muddy!" and she punched, right into his ribs. He felt those go for sure, breaking like sticks, and he yelled in pain. "And this is a Versace!" Another punch, the other side, and more ribs gone. Spike groaned, coughed - spat, and foamy blood spattered across Glory's dress.

"It's a fuckin' rag now, you cunt." Glory looked down in disgust at her stained dress and then back up at Spike. She put her hands on either side of his face and pulled it down, so they were inches apart.

"You're really, really gonna wish you hadn't done that, vampire." She stared at him - let one hand trail down his chest, digging a little at the deep scratches there. Spike hissed at her, and Glory blinked. "Nothing to see out here... I wonder if there's something interesting inside?" She grinned and dug her nails in, and Spike felt the blood running down his belly and under his jeans.

Fuck fuck FUCK this is gonna be bad. At least Xander can't feel this...please don't be able to feel this...

It took far too long before the blackness came back.

Oooh god it hurts...hurts...please please...help me... Xander writhed on the couch in the back of the shop, barely aware of Oz's hands on him, holding him down. His head was splitting, and the nausea wouldn't go, and now the link flared and burned with agony. He tried to shield Oz, tried to shut the link down without losing touch with Spike altogether, but the pain was making it hard to think straight and Oz's hands were trembling. There was a white-hot sort of crunch through the link and then nothing at all, and Xander went limp. Out, he's out...not gone...Spike? No, just... He carefully opened his eyes - shut them again hard at the dazzle of light from the overhead fixtures.

"Oh - ow -god -"

"Is it Spike? Is something happening?" Giles, his voice sounding strained.

"Yeah, it's -" Oz stopped and rested his head on Xander's shoulder for a moment. You there?

"Glory is - was - torturing Spike," Oz said, and his voice was hoarse. "Xander can...feel it and...I can feel him..." Another pause and then Oz drew away slowly. Xander grabbed blindly at him, catching the werewolf's hand in his and clinging tight.

Don't leave! I'm... Oz, I...can't...

Pack... Won't leave. Oz squeezed back, his hand warm and solid in Xander's grip, and Xander relaxed just a little. His head was so muzzy - still ringing from the blow, and from the overload of pain. Why couldn't he talk to Spike?

"Oz? Why can't I...I can't talk to Spike, why - is it that...that Toth again? I'm..." He felt the couch move as someone sat on the edge.

"Xander - can you open your eyes? I need to look at your eyes." Giles again, and Xander cracked his lids open the tiniest bit - shut them immediately.

"Hurts, Giles. Too bright."

"Oh - wait. Anya? Would you turn off the lights back here please?" Oz shifted - it felt like he was crouching down at the head of the couch, and Xander felt his own fingers tighten in panic.

Don't! Oz!

Here, I'm here, safe.

Harris, get a grip! Gotta stay cool. Let me...

"Xander, open your eyes now - the light is off." Xander took a deep breath and slowly opened them. He blinked a few times and his eyes gradually focused. Giles was next to him on the edge of the couch, and Oz hunched over near his head, just out of sight. The light from the front of the shop was enough to illuminate them and Giles had a small penlight in his hand.

"I need to look at your eyes, Xander," he said, clicking it on. Even pointing away from him it was too bright and Xander flinched.

"No - don't Giles, don't! It hurts..." Xander struggled against the vertigo that threatened to make him throw up again.

Can't do this...oh, fuck...

Just let ME do it. Harris - LET me... The soldier, dead calm and collected. Able to think past the pain and Xander just let go and let the soldier take over.

Oz, listen, he'll know - he can do it...

"We need something for the pain, Watcher. Something strong."

"What? We? I don't -"

"It's the soldier, Giles. Just - listen to him." Oz's hand a warm weight, and Xander let that hold him there, floating in the red-shot darkness. The concussion was like a jackhammer in his skull, and the back of his head, where he'd been hit felt swollen to twice normal size.

"What do you mean? They're not - separate..."

"Sometimes we are. Just help us. We only need it for a little while. If we can use the link right we'll be able to find him easy. We just need -"

"No! I can't just dose you with any sort of - of drug, Xander! That could be fatal, in your condition. You have to...to rest and Oz -"

"I can't find him, Giles. I’m not strong enough." Oz sounded - so sad, and Xander squeezed his hand hard.

Oz, it's all right, don't -

I know. Love you.

What if she...if she does that mind-thing, FUCK - Xander felt his heart pounding and the soldier moved restlessly in him - pushing for control.

No time for histrionic, Harris! We need logical steps, here. We need to think clearly. He was icy calm - very quiet - and Xander took a deep breath, and then another. Forced himself to relax.

"I know the situation is - is bad, Xander, but you must - " Giles stopped and patted his hand. "You must try to stay calm, and let us do what we can. We won't let him die."

"No. We won't. But you have to give us something. We can't function like this. Wolf, help me." Xander, or the soldier - he wasn't even sure now - tried to sit up. Sent the impulse through the link and he felt Oz's hands under his shoulders, very slowly pushing him. As his head got higher then his stomach the nausea swelled up alarmingly and Xander gagged and swallowed several times, trying to force it back.

"Giles, he's gonna be sick, get a -"

"Here, this -" Giles snatched something from the floor and held it up and Xander forced himself upright - leaned forward and frantically grabbed the trash-can Giles was holding, leaning over it. His stomach spasmed and sent up bile, and then nothing at all as he dry-heaved.

Better out than in, the soldier muttered, and he moved, dislodging Giles from his perch so Xander could get his feet on the floor. Oz sat next to him, arm over his shoulders, and Xander leaned into him just a bit, taking comfort from the quiet pack that Oz constantly sent. Giles crouched helplessly on the other side, face slightly averted.

Oh god this is...just...I can't.

I CAN! Let me, Harris! Xander wavered but finally gave way - retreated into that odd, still darkness that had taken him when the soldier first appeared. He'd watched the soldier shoot the transformed trick-or-treaters from that darkness. Watched him take down demons on patrol, sometimes. If he said he could do it, said he could function through the pain, then he could. Xander wondered just how much crazier he could get. The soldier lifted his head - looked squarely at Giles who seemed to see the difference and pulled back, just a little.

"We have to have something, Watcher. There's no other way. We're the only ones who can find him. Harris can't take much more of this." Giles looked at him for a long moment and Xander hoped, rather distantly, that the man could just take this in stride; treat it like just another Hellmouth oddity and help him - them. Giles sighed, finally, and lowered his head, and Xander knew they'd won.

"I - I don't like this, Xander. But - I don’t see any other choice. Willow and Tara already tried a locator spell and Glory's - aura, or wards - something - disrupted it. We didn't get anything at all."

He's not dead, doesn't mean he's dead, FUCK this damn headache -

Safe, pack safe, calm. Oz squeezed his shoulders a little, willing him to calm down.

He's fine, Harris. We can still feel him - just concentrate. Soon as we get the pain under control, you'll see.

"Appreciated, Watcher. We - Xander can find him, if we knock the pain out. This will work. We're not human, Watcher. Giles. Not anymore. Not...completely. It won't hurt us as much as you think. She's asking about the key, Giles." Giles looked at him, his expression strained and sad, and Oz's arm over Xander's shoulders tightened for a moment.

"None of us are just plain...normal anymore, Giles. It'll be ok," Oz said softly, and Giles straightened slowly from his crouching position.

"You're right, Oz. You - we - are not. I'll... I'll go and get Tara and get started. It'll take a little time. Xander should try to rest. Just don't let him go to sleep."

"Sure, Giles." Giles walked away, slowly at first and then more briskly, his head coming up determinedly as he visibly set his misgivings aside, and Xander sighed in relief.

You rest, Harris. I'll keep watch. We'll have him back before dawn.

Yeah. Ok. Oz...thanks. Oz just hugged him a little closer, scent of almonds and wolf, and Xander let himself drift. Back before dawn.

His second coming-to wasn't nearly so nice. The broken ribs grated, and one eye was swollen, his lips split. He thought maybe even his jaw might be cracked, and the ear-drum on the left felt as if it had burst - it hurt with a steady, piercing pain, and sound was muffled on that side. His wrists were raw - one felt broken or dislocated - and he felt the blood down his chest and belly, soaking his jeans. He didn't really want to see what she'd done - glanced down, anyway, to make sure nothing was...exposed. Blood, and the white glint of bone, but -.

Bloody hell. Gotta learn to keep my mouth shut. At least my innards aren't strung across the room. Spike intentionally kept still - reached out with the link, feeling for Xander. After a long moment, Xander was suddenly there, his presence a swelling wave of warmth and comfort.

Xander! Hear me? Love, can you hear me? Nothing coherent came back, just the steady sun warm life that meant he was alive. It seemed to - flicker - for a moment, and then was steady again. Okay. He can hear me, I bet, but can't answer. Took a damn hard hit to the head, maybe he's just - woozy, or somethin'. Gotta - gotta tell him where I am - show him, somehow - Spike carefully opened his eyes to slits so he could covertly study the room. He sent the images as clearly as he could - the acolytes milling around; a few cleaning, the others looking through books. That Warren bloke sitting sullenly at a desk, a miniature tool-set spread out before him. And the other Buffy, who was bolt upright in a straight-backed chair, her shirt unbuttoned and a lacy black bra exposed. As Spike watched, Warren reached out and did - something - to the other Buffy's midsection. It swung open and Spike saw wires - cables - parts.

A fuckin' ROBOT? What the hell! Oh, fuck. He'd involuntarily made some noise, and one of the acolytes had heard - had got up from scrubbing at a stain on the carpet and scurried into the other room. Spike sighed - winced - and then noticed a curtain was drawn partially back. He stared out the window, trying to see something, anything, that would help Xander find him. He could see - there - the ruins of the old high-school. Just part of them. It looked like maybe the very back part of the old campus. Spike stared harder, frantically sending image and observation as clearly and quickly as he could, feeling that little flicker in the Xander-ness that he was sure meant Xander was hearing him.

"So, back among the living, are we? Well - in a manner of speaking." Glory was suddenly there, in a new dress, her hair combed and her make-up freshened. She smiled at Spike and reached out - patted his head.

"Now listen up, vampire. If you be real, real good, we're gonna give you a treat. Warren says he knows just what you want to give up the Key to me." Warren had gotten up and was standing behind Glory, a weird little smile on his face.

"Warren says you've got a little problem - he says you can't bite people any more." Spike stared at her - choked back his first incredulous instinct to laugh and instead scowled, looking angrily at Warren.

"What does that little bastard know about it?" he spat, and Warren smirked.

"Oh, I know more than most people think. I know all about the Initiative and their little - experiments. I even got a hold of another vamp they implanted. I dug out the chip and figured out how it worked. And I figured out how to modify it - or turn it off." Spike struggled to make his expression believable - he could smell arousal coming off this Warren, and he had a pretty good idea what sort of modifications the little bastard had tried.

How can he not know...? Fuck it. Idiot. "What - what happened to that other vamp, then?" Spike asked, making his voice sound hopeful and sneering at once, and Warren smiled.

"Oh, getting the chip out kind of - messed up its head. I used it to test my - work - and then I had to dust it. It was insane." He smirked again, and a fresh wave of pheromones bombarded Spike.

"Fuck that -"

"Now, just hold on. The modifications worked. And so did turning it off. I can do the same to your chip without taking it out. All you have to do -"

"All you have to do is tell me where my Key is, and Warren here fixes you right up." Glory was smiling perkily at him and Warren was smirking, and Spike knew for a fact that if he still had the chip in his head, old Warren would have done something to it, but not turned it off. He stared at the both of them - let himself smile. Pushed it all through the link; any little thing might help.

"Okay - you got me. Fuckin' chip. I'd do anything to get rid of it - get it turned off, whatever. Anything. You let me down, huh? Let me down and get me some blood and I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Promise." Spike looked anxiously back and forth between them and silently vowed to take this Warren kid out, first chance he got. He was creepy.

"Oh, no - that's not how it works. First you tell, then he fixes, then you get loose. Right, Warren?"

"Exactly right, my queen." Warren murmured silkily, and Glory preened.

"Oi! That's a load 'a bollocks, that is! How do I know you'll do anything at all? You let me down - my fuckin' arms are killin' me! You let me down and I'll tell you everything. Fuckin' Slayer - what do I care about her and her stupid Key?"

"No - that's not the deal." Glory stepped up close to Spike - put her fingers lightly on Spike's temples. He snarled silently at her, and she grinned.

"Jinx! Are you sure I can't eat a vampire?"

"Oh yes, your most high Altitudinousness. You really can't," twittered one of the acolytes.

"But I've never tried," Glory said, and pushed a little with her fingertips. Warren was frowning. Fuck - is this that mind-suck thing? Can't do it to a vampire why? Oh shit -

"Maybe that isn't the best idea -" Warren started to say, and then Glory really pushed and the pain was incandescent - blinding - a hundred times worse then the chip had ever been and Spike felt his throat tearing as he screamed.

"Oh - noo! Oz!" Xander pushed his fists hard into his temples as a jolt of agony blazed through him from the link. Xander felt his knees buckling - felt Oz's hands grabbing at his arms, holding him upright. As soon as it had started it was over, and then the link was quiet, just that faint pulse of Spike - olderthan chaos malice love the same thing he'd felt in the aftermath of the SuperSlayer spell.

"Xander?" Oz's voice was shaky - he'd felt that too, even though Xander had tried hard to keep it out of the link. Even the soldier was momentarily jolted by the intensity of that pain, and Xander took up the slack.

"Fuck - she did something - we've got to get going." Xander leaned on the display counter, trying to ignore Willow and Tara's fussing. From Oz there was carefully restrained fury and terror, and the werewolf's hands shook where they rested on Xander's shoulders. Spike, Spike, oh god, oh PLEASE be all right, Spike, love you -

No TIME for this, Harris! He gave us what he could - gave us a good look out the window - we've got to USE it now. Back in command, and Xander straightened under the soldiers whip-crack voice - strode over to the table where Giles was spreading out a map of Sunnydale. He'd had a mouthful of vile-tasting tea - some concoction of Giles and Tara's - and the pain had receded to a low throbbing. But his heart was pounding like a trip-hammer, he was sweating and shaking, and he knew he couldn't hit a barn with an elephant or write his own name legibly just now.

Wonder what they gave me. Christ... The edges of things were vibrating and he thought his head might just float off his shoulders. But the pain was gone, and Spike was alive, and he could find him now. He knew he could. He took a deep breath - leaned over the map and let the soldier take over again.

Spike - we're coming.

"Right. He showed us the view out the window. We could see a section of the old high-school - this part here." Xander-soldier pointed, and Giles nodded. "We could only see a very small section, however, and the angle was very high - at least six storeys. So - she has to be here, somewhere." Xander fanned his hand over a pricey, residential section of Sunnydale, and Anya pushed in next to him, looking at the map.

"Oh! I'll bet she's right here -" Anya put her finger on the map and tapped. "This building is at least that tall. It's also very pricey. I was looking at a two bedroom there, but it was out of my price range - for now."

"What's the name of the place, Anya?" Buffy asked, and Xander rubbed at his chest, wishing his heart wasn't pounding so hard. It was hard to hear.

"It's called Parkview Place. Not very original, but it does have a pool and -"

"Right, okay. So we know where to look. That's great." The soldier cut in brusquely and Anya frowned a little. "Oz - we need the van. Spike's hurt, we'll need to be able to lay him down. Take Giles' keys and get your van and get it back here. Giles can collect his car later. And he's gonna need blood. Willow, can you give us the phone? You and Tara are going to go to Willy's for us, get him a bunch of blood. Anya - show us what the building looks like inside - where the front doors are, where the elevators and stairs are, is there a guard or a doorman, whatever you can remember. Thanks, Willow." Xander took the phone - looked at the faces that were staring at him in varying degrees of astonishment (Buffy and the witches) satisfaction (Giles and Anya) and pride (Oz).

"C'mon people, move! We're on a deadline!" Everyone stared a moment longer and then they moved, and Xander - the soldier - grinned humorlessly as he dialed Willy's bar.

"What do I do, Xander?" Buffy asked, softly, and Xander smiled a warmer smile at her.

"We need weapons, Buffy, and a First-Aid kit. It's gonna be us, you and Giles. Oz has his own weapons." Oz, who was striding past with Giles' keys in his hand stopped - pivoted on his heel - and came back to Xander. He leaned in and gave him a fast, hard kiss and then was gone, sprinting out the door, love you love Spike fast PACK in his wake. Xander closed his eyes for a moment love you love you and then lifted the phone to his ear. The soldier hovered, waiting to jump out again when he was needed.

"Willy! This is Xander. You know me... Right, Spike's Xander. Yeah. I need a favor from you..."

Third time's the charm...oh wait...deja vu... Spike could tell he was lying down now - lying on something rather hard - Floor? No - table and his arms were being held down. He slowly opened his eyes - stared straight into Warren's smirking face. He looked left, then right. Vamp on the left, gripping his bicep hard enough to bruise. That's the bastard that done for Xander. Gonna get him. Acolyte on the right, holding a little more gingerly. As if afraid it'd hah hurt him. His head was utter agony - as if his skull was filled with razor-sharp rocks, and his right leg felt like it was on fire. He hissed in pain as Warren bumped it.

"Oh - yeah. You had a little - I dunno - seizure when she did that. Guess they were a little over-zealous when they restrained you. You've been out a while." Warren grinned, and fiddled with something - a bulky hand-held device. Spike looked at it with what he hoped was interest. He was on a coffee table, he realized.

"That gonna - fix me up?" he rasped. His voice was gone - his throat felt like he'd swallowed ground glass. Xander...still here...love you, pet, please hurry...

On our way, on our way, almost there Spike HANG ON! Xander, back in the link finally, thank fuck and on his way. The relief was dizzying, and Spike started planning how to get the hell out of there. He didn't want Xander or Oz anywhere near Glory.

"Ooooh yeah, fix you right up." Warren said, and started pushing buttons. The thing gave off a low hum, and after a few minutes Warren tossed it aside, seemingly satisfied. He had something else in his hand, though - a smaller device that he held and stroked in such a way that made Spike want to rip his head right off.

"Now you're all - good to go. Shall we try it out?" Warren held up the device - pressed a button. Spike had been waiting for this. As soon as he did Spike moved, sitting up so fast he tumbled the acolyte to the floor and dragged the vamp halfway across his lap. The vamp squeaked, startled, and Warren recoiled, tripping over his feet and falling on his butt. The pain in Spike's head flared to incandescence and he hung grimly onto consciousness, his vision going black and then clearing unevenly, full of spots.

"Hey! That's - that's not supposed to - oh fuck."

"Oh fuck is right, you wanker. And you -" Spike glared down at the vamp that was writhing in his grip. "You hurt Xander. So now - you're gonna pay." Spike changed - lunged - and drank the vamp down. The blood was cool and a little thick but it crackled with magical energy and he felt it roar through him like a train; healing minor injuries, dialing the pain of broken bones and his headache down to acceptable levels. Drained, the vamp abruptly went to dust and Spike flung himself off the table at Warren, catching the boy's ankles and yanking him backwards furiously.

"C'mon, fucker, I need another snack."

"Warren!" It was the Buffy robot, running towards them, and Spike hesitated one moment and then rolled aside, letting Warren go and narrowly missing being kicked in the head. The 'bot launched another attack and he scrabbled away - got between sofa and coffee table and levered himself to his feet. His broken leg wouldn't hold him and he staggered badly - took a hard blow to the ribs and howled in agony and fury.

"Fuck am I tired of being hurt today!" He picked up a table-lamp and swung it with all his might - connected sharply with the 'bot's head. She stumbled - blinked at him - and tiny blue lightning began to flicker over her.

"Wa-ar-arrrren," the bot slurred, jerking, and Spike stumbled away from it - was brought up short by Glory.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't our little traitor. Where the hell do you think you're going, vampire?"

GOD DAMNIT. Just gotta wait - pet, you close?

HERE from Oz, and Spike almost laughed, despite the grinding of bones in his chest - the slick-sticky blood that was gluing the rags of his t-shirt to his skin.

"I'm goin' home, you daft cow. I haven't had that chip in my head for months, and your boy should have known that if he's half as smart as he thinks he is." Spike looked Glory up and down, letting a sneer curl his lip. "And to think we've all been so bloody worried about you. Fuckin' brain-dead fashion victim is what you are. Get your lopsided arse and your Lee Press-Ons outta' my fuckin' way." Glory's eyes were wide as saucers and she surreptitiously ran her hands over her butt, checking it. Then fury sparked in her eyes, and Spike braced himself.

Here it fuckin' comes - gonna hurt -

Spike! We're here, hold on!

XANDER - pet, thank god - ! And then Glory kicked him, and he flew backwards, plowing into the door to the hall and crashing out in a hail of splinters and bits of laminate. He thumped painfully into the elevator doors and lay there for a moment, stunned.

Xander! Comin' down -

Pack safe HURRY from Oz and Spike laughed weakly - a laugh that turned into a cough. It felt like he was coughing splinters and he reached up and slapped at the call button. The acolytes were streaming out of Glory's apartment as the elevator doors opened and Spike fell backwards - dragged himself by his elbows inside and groaned as his broken leg twisted painfully. He hit the lobby button and slumped against the wall, and the last thing he saw was Warren dragging the 'bot by the arm, heading for the fire stairs, and Glory shrieking and shoving acolytes pell-mell.

They were half-way up the first flight of steps when they met the acolytes coming down. Giles had a crossbow, Buffy had her fists. Xander had a sword that was a bit dangerous in such a small space, and Oz was halfway to wolf and snarling like a hellhound. It was hard to fight in the cramped quarters of the stairs and when Spike told Xander he was on his way down they fell back gratefully into the lobby, where Xander could swing the sword and not accidentally hit anybody. The tea had worn off enough for him to focus, and he focused hard. He methodically swung at two, three, four acolytes, decapitating them neatly. Buffy was holding her own - Giles was getting in hit after hit with the crossbow, as precise and efficient as always. Oz - was creating bloody mayhem, but it felt good, in the link, to let some rage out, and the acolytes were starting to waver. Xander felt Spike behind him - slightly above him - and he turned as the elevator doors opened.

Spike, love, oh FUCK - safe now safe now

Safe. and Spike slumped sideways, out cold. Xander found Buffy in the melee - yelled to get her attention and tossed the sword to her. She caught it neatly and swung it in a wide arc.

"Get him and get out, Xander! We'll hold them here!" Xander was already folding Spike into his arms - picking him up and cradling him close. He could feel the broken bones shifting, and his arms and chest were damp with blood in minutes.

Oz - let's go, gotta hurry! Oz whirled - snapped - broke out of the mob and bounded across the lobby, shedding the wolf as he went. He opened the door and Xander edged out carefully. At the van, Oz opened the back door and climbed inside - carefully took Spike's shoulders and helped to maneuver the limp form onto the pallet they'd made in the back. Xander pulled the door half shut behind him - crawled up next to Spike and touched the battered face.

"Fuckin' bitch. Let's go, Oz." Oz nodded - scrambled out the front door and ran back to the building. A moment later the back door opened again and Buffy climbed in, yanking the 'bot along behind her. Xander stared for a long moment - turned to see Giles and Oz in the front and then the van was moving, speeding away, and Xander felt, finally, that he could breathe. Felt the soldier fade back, flushed with success. Everyone was spattered with blood or some other fluid, and Xander wondered a bit hysterically what they would say if the police stopped them.

"Is - is he okay?" Buffy whispered, and Xander ran his fingers gently through the tangled, bloody hair - touched Spike's cheek.

"He's - here. He'll be okay, once he gets some blood. Fucking bitch. If I could just -" Xander felt his throat closing up - clamped his mouth shut and just leaned there, not daring to touch Spike - desperate to touch him.

Oh love you, love you, got you back, MINE, never let you go, Spike, Spike...

Be okay, from Oz, and Xander took a deep breath.

"Yeah. He's gonna be - gonna be fine." He leaned down and gently kissed Spike's mouth.

"Ewww. That's gross." Xander's head snapped up, and he glared. The bot was looking at him with a strangely blank expression, and Xander looked over at Buffy, who looked mortified.

"Why'd you grab - it?"

"Just thought; the enemy shouldn't have...me. You know? That guy - whoever - he was trying to get out the service entrance and I was gonna grab him but she - it -" Buffy looked momentarily confused, glancing at the 'bot and then back to Xander. "It attacked. Trying to defend him, I guess. But it's kinda screwed up. I hit it and it fell down and he took off." Buffy looked upset and Xander swallowed his anger - nodded.

"Warren says two men -" Buffy reached over and smacked the 'bot and it made a sizzling sound and shut up.

"Yeah. Good thing you grabbed it. It's better if we - dismantle it or - whatever. That guy - what a creep." Xander had related what Warren? had said to Spike as they'd driven over, and they'd all agreed to grab him if they saw him. But the 'bots creator, it seemed, had escaped, and Xander just hoped his pack could find him out and about one night. He wasn't as important as Spike, though.

Fucking sicko.

Safe now. Pack.

"Safe." Xander touched Spike's bloodied cheek - looked up at Giles. "You guys - did really great, back there. I just - " Xander paused to gulp a little more air. The pain-killing effects of the drug were almost all gone now and his heart was thudding slower and slower - his head felt full of cotton-wool. The pain was coming back, too - licks of fire that got a little higher with every thump thump thump, and Xander swallowed heavily and tried not to think about being sick.

"Xander? You ok?" Buffy's face swam out of the gloom, and Xander blinked at her.

Xander. Sick?

"Yeah, I'm - I'm kinda - oh man, that drug is wearing off fast, Giles. Uuhhh....fuck..." Xander heard a peculiar sort of buzzing in his ears - tried to ignore it but it got louder and louder until it was drilling into his head, and he was clutching his skull and panting - collapsing back onto the pallet next to Spike and desperate to be home. The journey passed in a miserable, nauseating haze, and he was barely aware of Buffy doing what she could with the First-Aid kit.

Home now. Oz's hand on his wrist, on his head - pine and earth and wolf-smell, love you coming unbelievably from Spike, and then Xander slipped gratefully into unconsciousness. They'd made it home, and he was content.

27 Healing

Spike dreamed. Or, he hoped he dreamed. Angelus was there, doing something to Dru and making her scream, and he couldn't get loose - couldn't get to her. And soldiers - soldiers were there, looming over him, discussing... A white-coated doctor pushed through them and nodded, listening to their murmurs and when she turned to face him her features rippled - the Mad Professor, Buffy - Darla. Spike struggled to get free - what the hell was holding him? - and Xander was there, whispering to him. Vampire Xander, with Dru's thin hand in his hair and he felt cold seeing that. No no NO, why did she do that - when - XANDER! Oz there too, half wolf and a thick collar around his neck, chain snaking away to Angelus' hand and Spike roared, launching himself at the bastard. Something struck his face - hurt - and he recoiled, staring. Xander - the real Xander - pale and wild-eyed, holding his shoulders in a crushing grip. His body ached - his head was splitting, and Spike moaned, writhing.

Spike, Spike - you're safe now, Spike - love you - please, you're safe, please calm down, you're safe, safe.

Home safe pack. Oz on his other side, his Oz, green eyes so tired.

"C'mon Spike - here - drink. You'll get better faster. Please." Xander's arm against his mouth, scent of blood and he bites and drinks and drinks; blood sweet and hot, full of love, of need... He snarls when Xander is wrenched away from him.

"Oz, damnit -"

"You think I'm going to let him hurt you? What the fuck do you think he'd do if I did? It's enough, Xander." Oz does something, his eyes flaring black, and then it's his arm, his blood; earth and almonds and Spike drinks that too - falls back on the bed and just breathes - pulling unneeded air into his lungs as the nauseating pain slowly ebbs from his skull.

All right love? Spike, please - you all right?

Hurts...Xander, hurts... Warmth all along his right side - his left - two heartbeats lulling him, and Spike sinks back and the dreams are there, waiting for him.

Xander stood by the bed, watching Spike. The vampire turned restlessly, his eyes moving beneath closed lids. His wounds - the broken bones - were healed. There were only a few faint scars to show where Glory had split skin and muscle with sharp nails and punishing blows. Spike could just be asleep, except for the link. Worse than Dru's spell, the link roiled with nightmares - with pain - and it was like a lure, like a siren-song. Xander wanted to crawl into the bed beside Spike and hold him, soothe him - sink into the dreams with him until they were both dust, or Spike woke.

"Xander."

But he couldn't. Or, rather - he wasn't allowed - and for a moment Xander felt a flare of resentment, almost anger. Spike needed him; he should be there with him, in whatever twilight he lingered in.

Shouldn't be in there alone. Xander wavered - reached out his hand, leaning forward. He could just sit here, on the edge of the bed -

"Xander!" He flinched, startled, and looked over at the door. Oz stood there, watching him. Jerked his head once, summons, and Xander reluctantly pulled back and stepped away from the bed. The link was an ache - a droning, mind-numbing buzz like a giant hive. The nightmares shot through and through it, crackles of pain and images Xander tried to forget as soon as he saw them. The first day, he'd tried to block it out - shut the link down - but he'd felt so lost, then. Felt as if he'd deliberately deafened and blinded himself, and he couldn't do it. After that he'd spent - two days? - in bed with Spike. Holding him, and trying to calm him, trying to wake him. Getting blood into him, but not enough. Oz had hauled him out and forced him to eat - made him go outside and sit on the porch in the sun for an hour. Oz almost invisible in the link, closing it down so completely Xander wasn't always sure he was even there. Shutting it down so he could function, so he could force Xander to, and it was taking its toll. They were both pale - they both had dark shadows under their eyes, and were thinner then they had been. Oz was edgy - twitchy - and except for Xander's name he'd stopped talking altogether. Xander had lost all track of time, had no idea what day it was - just barely knew it was twilight by the low, violet light that glowed around the blinds. He thought it had been a week, since Glory. He felt like he'd been beaten, too. Everything hurt, and he couldn't tell if that was Spike or him, anymore. Couldn't tell if the nightmares where Spike's or his own. God, has to stop, has to STOP - Spike, wake up, wake up, wake up...

A rumbling growl, full of frustration and pain, and Oz's hand on his arm, wrenching him up from where he'd gone to his knees by the bed. Dragging him out of the room and all but hurling him into a chair in the kitchen. Oz slammed cupboard doors and drawers - put a bowl of soup on the table in front of Xander and a spoon. Xander looked at it and sighed - turned his head away and Oz snarled; slammed his fist down on the table hard enough to make the spoon jump - to spill a little soup over. His message clear. Eat. Xander wanted to cry, wanted to scream, but he picked up the spoon instead - ate a mouthful. Quick stroke of Oz's fingers through his hair and the werewolf went back to what he did most of the day: pacing. He looked ragged - as ragged as Xander felt - and Xander tried to send some comfort, something. But the link was closed to that too, and Oz just paced, biting his lip. Stalking between Xander and the bedroom because he wasn't letting Xander back in there until the soup was gone. Didn't need words to make that obvious, and Xander bent to the task of eating.

Rustle of pencil on paper and Xander glanced over at Derio, sitting opposite him. He was the only person Xander would let into the house. Because Oz needs him. He had a sheaf of papers spread out before him; notes on a song he was writing. He picked his fiddle up out of its case and tuned it for a moment - stroked the bow over the strings and began to play. It was low and slow and soft - it was nearly a lullaby - and it washed over Xander like warm water. It calmed Oz enough for him to sit down finally, one knee pressed tight into Derio's thigh, head bowed. Xander wondered, fleetingly, how it was Derio fit, so well. At the house every day, playing his fiddle or Oz's guitar. Singing softly in that hoarse voice. Or turning on the radio, helping to cook. Talking for Oz and talking for Xander, even - talking or singing or making a clatter with pots and dishes. Making a cocoon of sound to drown out the pained silence that had fallen over the house. It helped, more than Xander could say.

Xander ate, head bowed. Finished the soup and pushed the bowl away and just lay his head down on the table. He was so tired - and it wasn't just his body, but his head. Numb and confused and aching for Spike, and he didn't know how much longer he could do this. The fiddle-music washed in and out of him, low and steady as the sea, and Xander drifted.

"Ey Vato," someone said, soft voice rusty from dis-use, and Xander sat bolt upright, startled out of a half doze. "That's nice."

Spike

Xan love... Xander stood up slowly, feeling like a clock-work toy whose gears had had sand thrown in them. Spike was in the doorway to the bedroom, leaning on the doorjamb. He'd put on his brocade robe and tied it, and he was...

Thin, love, you're so thin...god, Spike...love you love you Xander finally felt something like mobility return to him and he was across the kitchen floor and his arms around Spike, holding the too-thin body close to him, putting his face into Spike's hair and neck and just breathing, just feeling him. That hideous pain finally gone. Spike hugged him back hard - not as hard as he should be able to, but just to have him there was enough and the rest could be fixed.

Derio was still playing, and Oz was motionless beside him, but he was smiling - blinking hard. Xander kissed Spike's neck and jaw - kissed his mouth, slow and gentle until Spike finally pulled away and looked at him, a little bewildered.

"I'm not gonna break, pet. Why all the -" He touched Xander's cheek, and Xander realized he'd been crying.

"Days, Spike, it's been - I don't even know..." Xander coughed, his voice rough. "You - it's been days since Glory and - and you were -" He couldn't finish that - pulled Spike into another hug, holding him tight. Never leave me.

"Eight days," quietly, from Derio, and Xander pulled back and sent a quick smile over his shoulder to the other man.

"Eight days?" Spike leaned his head on Xander's shoulder, arms loosely around his waist. "No bloody wonder I feel like I could eat half the Bronze." He shifted and looked at Xander again, his eyes anxious.

"What happened? Did that bitch catch me again? I thought - we got out..." He trailed off uncertainly and Xander turned them both - tugged at him a little and led him over to the table. Spike sank down into Xander's chair and Xander pulled the last chair over close - sat down as well and put his arm over Spike's shoulders. Spike leaned into him and sighed. Derio let the music fade softly to silence and started putting his fiddle away, looking serious.

"Real nice, Derio."

"Thanks Spike." Spike looked over at Oz, who was sitting with his head buried in his hands, his shoulders hunched.

"You okay, wolfling?" Oz's head came up and he shot a wild look at Spike - eyes red-rimmed and wet. He was up and around the table in a heartbeat, crouching down beside the chair and putting his hands on Spike's thigh. They were trembling, just a little, and Spike leaned down and kissed the top of his head.

"Jesus, Spike..." Oz whispered, and his voice was a cracked thread of sound.

God, Oz, are you back? Oz - And Oz just there in the link, like a light coming on - like something breaking but it wasn't pain, it was the sweet flood that comes with the bite into an apple.

Pack pack Spike love you both. He put his head down on Spike's thigh and for a few minutes they all were just silent, the link thick with happiness, contentment - love. Spike ran his fingers gently through and through Oz's hair. Oz wiped his eyes and leaned back, finally - went back to his chair. Derio reached out and took his hand and twined their fingers together, smiling softly.

"Tell me what's been goin' on, Xander."

"Well - we came and got you - you remember that?" Love you love you love you.

Love you. "Yeah... I was in the elevator and - you were there and the Slayer...wolfling... The Watcher was there?"

"Yup. He's a damn good shot with that crossbow. We got you out. Oz brought the van and we got you here. I - I sent Willow and Tara down to Willy's to get you blood." Spike goggled at him, and then he laughed a little breathlessly.

"You what? Red an' - an' Glinda down at Willy's? Getting blood?"

"Oh yeah," Xander grinned at Spike - at the familiar expression of amusement and love - and his heart felt like it might just pound right out of his chest. "Willy knows about them, you know. You really think he's gonna refuse two powerful witches? Especially when I called him and told him to expect them."

"You're barmy, pet." Spike said, but there was obvious pride in his voice, and he leaned over and kissed Xander for a moment, then snuggled back into him again, sighing happily. Love you pet, smart boy, my boy. "So - what? I've been just layin' there for a week?"

"You don't remember?" Xander's could feel Spike stiffen under his arm, and he hugged him closer.

"I - I was...havin' really bad dreams. I thought - it was just the one night. Eight days. I reckon it was that mind-suck thing."

"What?" Xander couldn't help it, he jerked sharply and Spike sat up, frowning a little.

Pack safe now, from Oz, even though he looked as disturbed as Xander felt. Derio was frowning, too.

"Mind...oh fuck. She did. I - kinda forgot. It hurt so much when she did that I kinda..." Xander shook his head.

"Yeah, she did that - or, she tried to. One of those little goons of hers, it told her she couldn't do that to a vampire but she tried anyway. It fuckin' hurt. Hurt her too, I guess - I remember her screaming..." Spike shuddered and pushed his hand back through his hair - grimaced at the feel of it, the tangles.

"Christ, pet, I need a bath." Xander laughed - he couldn't help it - and he couldn't help that he sounded a little hysterical, and he couldn't help that he couldn't stop right away. Manny had let him off work, and Oz had stayed home so they could sit what felt like a death-watch over Spike. Derio had been there so much Xander was wondering if he actually had a job. And Oz had stopped talking and Xander had just...stopped. And Spike wanted a bath. Suddenly the world was right again - was solidly back on its axis and spinning at the right speed, instead of careening wildly through darkness and cold. Xander hugged Spike hard and kissed him again.

"Course you do. C'mon and have your bath and we'll go and - you can get fed." Spike looked at him at that, surprise in the link, surprise and puzzlement.

Love? You know -

I know. Don't care anymore. Can't be without you, won't leave you for a minute, don't CARE anymore, my Spike, my VAMPIRE, fuckin' Big Bad and love you love you love you Spike's robe soaked up tears pretty well, and Derio and Oz found something interesting on the TV. Xander just sobbed - release of unbearable tensions and fear, and Spike held him hard - whispered to him, kissed his hair and his temples and rocked him slowly, slowly. After that, Xander was ready for a bath, too.

They got back in just past midnight, and Xander was feeling - pretty strange. He really hadn't let Spike out of his sight, and he'd never seen Spike hunt before, or feed. And Spike was right - it didn't hurt, and he'd only killed one. Sick old man whose heart couldn't take it and who wanted it, anyway, or so Spike said and so the link said, too. Vampire senses reading illness and despair and Spike the lion in the field, culling. Xander felt -

Jealous? You're jealous, pet.

I'm not! Fuck, AM, course I am. You... Xander paused at the front door, looking at Spike who was on the top step of the porch. A Spike who looked as if he hadn't spent a day in bed, much less eight. He was sleek and practically glowing with blood and health and Xander reveled in it. "I didn't realize it was so...intimate, I guess. I thought - hunt - you know? More 'grrrr' and less..."

"'Allo ducks, wot 'ave we 'ere'?" Spike said, accent like some old movie and Xander grinned for moment.

"Yeah. Better this way. I mean, no trail of bodies or anything but..." MINE, you're mine, always mine, ONLY mine, beautiful, fuckin' beautiful. Spike laughed softly, moving up close to him, slipping his hands around Xander's waist and up under his t-shirt, tugging him close.

"Course I am, love. All yours. Wanna claim me? Wanna bite me, love, wanna fuck me and take me and make me scream your name, love? Wanna...?" Spike nibbled along his neck and jaw - reached his mouth and settled in for a long kiss, his tongue strong and cool and demanding - devouring. Blood and lemon drops and cigarettes. His hands pulled Xander close - pressed them together all along their length and held Xander immobile and helpless and Xander was trembling - gasping. He clawed Spike's t-shirt free of his jeans and ran his hands up and down Spike's back, relearning and rediscovering the silken skin, the sharp curve of muscle, the ridge of bone. The screen door groaned alarmingly as Xander fell back against it, bringing Spike with him and he didn't care if they woke Oz up, or Derio. Didn't care if the neighbors were watching. He just wanted in, wanted Spike, wanted to prove to himself - to all his selves - that Spike was alive and whole and his, oh his.

Fuck, Spike, want you, want you, NEED you, Spike - love you oh god Spike never leave me... Spike pulled back half an inch, his eyes golden and gleaming.

"Inside," he grated, and Xander fumbled with the screen door - fumbled with his key - pushed the door open and glanced around. A lamp was on, but the rest of the house was dark, and as Spike turned the lock Xander saw a piece of paper taped to the TV screen. In Oz's slanting writing it said W/D - with Derio - and Xander grinned.

"Thank bloody gods. Gonna make you scream, pet." Spike flung his duster over the couch - reached out and grabbed Xander's face and dove back into kissing him, walking him backwards. As they walked Xander fought to get their shirts off - finally just shredded them, lust and need making him frantic. In the bedroom Spike pushed him back until he felt the bed against his legs and then abruptly let him go - turned him.

Want you want you... Spike undid button and zipper - pushed Xander's jeans down and then did the same to his own. He leaned and wrenched open the bedside table and snatched the lube out. Xander leaned his knees into the bed - put his hands on the mattress and braced himself, panting already, so hard it hurt and pre-come leaking cool and steady from his cock.

"Hurry, Spike, don't need it -"

"Shhh, love. Almost there..." Spike's hands were cool and deft, the preparation cursory. A moment later he was positioning himself - pushing in with one hard thrust that went to the hilt and Xander didn't so much scream as howl, the hyena roaring to the surface and wanting. Wanting proof of life - proof of existence and of Spike; same old fear, same old pain. Spike knew it was there, lurking, and he knew how to let it out - like drawing a splinter, only he used his body; used his teeth and his nails and his cock to open old wounds and make them bleed - make them heal. Xander loved each stinging scratch and throbbing bite because it meant he was there and Spike was and Glory didn't win and the Initiative didn't and his fucking parents didn't... Spike came too soon for Xander, and they took a minute to wrench off boots and jeans and then Xander was pressing Spike down hard into the mattress - pushing his legs up and leaning in and slamming in, more proof in the arch of Spike's throat and the clutch of his body - in the blood that Xander drew with hard, nipping bites and the growling sounds of pure pleasure that Xander pounded out of him. Letting that week of ache and helplessness spill through the link, letting it go in an overload of scent, touch, taste, feel - Spike was there, and Xander was giddy with it.

In the aftermath Xander felt utterly spent - wrung out and weak as a newborn, but light, too. Like a feather, lying on the bed, anchored by Spike's arms around him - by Spike's mouth on his.

Love you love you love you whispered with each heartbeat; the link so open they might as well be one person.

"You think I'm some kind of...? Is it normal, to want somebody this much?" Xander asked, more to himself than Spike.

"Normal for me," Spike said, hand lazily stroking the small of Xander's back.

"Normal 'cause...the demon is like that, or 'cause you are like that?" Xander wiggled around until he could prop his chin on Spike's chest and Spike put his arm behind his head, looking down at Xander.

"Don't know. The demon just wants, and it takes and haves until...until it doesn't want, anymore." Always want you. "I - we..." Spike stopped, and Xander could see something in his eyes, flickering. Flash of something, a long-buried memory, and Xander closed his own eyes for a moment - relived a party, and a girl, and a moment of indescribable pain and loss.

"Guess it's me, too," Spike said softly, and Xander reached up and ran gentle fingers over his face.

"So - it's okay, for me to want you this much? 'Cause sometimes..." Xander's turn to be quiet, to remember wanting so much and so desperately. Wanting love and family and somebody to know him, to want him. "I mean - seems like...I should be..."

"What, tougher? A manly man who never needs nothin' and nobody?" Spike sounded disgusted - very possibly hurt - and Xander shook his head, looking at him.

"No. Just - I wonder if..."

"What, love?" Spike's fingers combed back through Xander's hair, and Xander nuzzled into that most-loved touch.

"Just - if it's too much, sometimes. I fell apart when that Toth - when I couldn't hear the...voices in my head for god's sake... Fell apart this week, too. Am I just...too...needy?" Too broken. Spike startled Xander by laughing - bouncing his chin off Spike's chest with the force of his mirth.

"Christ, love - I'd chain you to the bed if I could - I'd take you away and lock you in a tower if I had one! Never let you out of my sight. I never spent a day apart from Dru for a hundred years, love, or near enough - that needy enough for you?" Spike turned them suddenly - flipped Xander on his back and held him close - put his forehead to Xander's and kissed his face with tiny, fluttering kisses.

"You can't want me too much Xander - can't need me too much. I'll take everything you've got and beg for more, love. Can't break me with need, love - can't wear me out with want. Everything you do - everything you say - it just feeds my addiction, love. Feeds me. I only want all of you and everything and what you are forever and a day, love." Not broken. Different. Strong. Perfect match - just what I need, MY boy, my own, always. Xander just stared up at him, and felt the truth of it through the link; Spike inside him and around him, sweet as honey, soft as down. Felt the truth of it in the touches Spike lay gently on him - in the love that made Spike's eyes like stars.

Oh god.

"Some of it was the link, you know. Making it...worse." Spike gazed down at him, his fingers in Xander's hair and his eyes so serious. Better now, love? My poor boy, so tired...

"Yeah... I didn't know it'd be so..." Xander stopped - pushed it away. He didn't want to dwell on that pain that still echoed, just a little. "So if I tell you that's your lot in life now, to have me on your shoulder at every possible moment, you're not gonna wig, huh?"

"Can you quit your job? Stay home all day?" Xander laughed this time, and then Spike did, and they lay in comfortable silence after that, basking in the nearness of the other - the scent and taste and feel.

Mine, saved you - did it just right. That made Spike lift his head again and look down at Xander, puzzled.

"Who's that, then?"

"That's...me, but mostly it's the soldier. He's - feeling better, now. He got to take control for a while there - figured out where you were."

"Knew you could," Spike said, in the link and aloud and the unwavering strength of his belief was heady, heady stuff. Xander reveled in it, even as his breathing slowed, and Spike's eyes fluttered shut, and they slept.

Something different, the next day - something... Spike felt it in Xander's touch - in him, in the link. Belief, maybe. Rest. Xander knew, finally, down in his soul. Knew it was real, and for always. Dru's visit had done most of it. Chose me in the link but so soft Spike was sure Xander had never meant for him to hear. Can't do without you there as well - such profound relief when he'd stood in the bedroom doorway and Xander had turned to see him. Spike wasn't hurt by this - didn't mind that it had taken such extreme things - such pain - for Xander to finally let go his deepest fears. It was a good feeling, this. Xander utterly his now in a way that he hadn't quite been before. And this knowledge - not new, just finally, finally cemented - put a shine in his eyes and a quiet confidence in his movements. Wholly Spike's, now, and wholly his own, and even Oz noticed it, coming in that afternoon from work; watching Xander who was cutting up tomatoes for dinner and singing quietly along with the radio.

"Something's different," Oz said, looking at Spike. Spike nodded - wondered what to say.

Knows, Oz thought, conveying more than just that word in the link, and Spike could only look at him - look and smile a little, at the things the wolfling saw.

Owe you. You kept him - here... You were so strong... Oz shook his head, frowning just a little.

Pack. Always. After a moment Oz smiled back - got up to help and trailed his fingers along Spike's shoulders - bumped Xander a little with his hip, getting out another knife and reaching for his own tomato. Xander grinned over at him, still singing, and Oz joined him a moment later. Spike smoked and watched them and hummed to himself.

"Money, get back. I'm all right Jack,

Get your hands off my stack.

Money, it's a hit. Don't give me that

Do goody good bullshit.

I'm in the high-fidelity first-class traveling set

And I think I need a Lear jet..."

"Talked with Derio last night," Oz said suddenly, and Xander looked over at him - dumped a cut-up tomato into a bowl for salad - Oz's influence, all the veggies. Spike wasn't sure about them, even if it was fun to embarrass Xander in the grocery by making suggestive remarks about cucumbers and squash.

"Yeah?" Trouble?

"Nah. He was just a little...freaked out. The link - we'd talked about it some, but..." Oz stopped and pondered, and Spike felt a little tension coiling up in him. "This whole week - he was kinda scared. Didn't really understand why -" Oz stopped again, and the link was flooded with a little hurt, a little fear. With images, and Derio's serious face. "Had to tell him - everything. About the Initiative and about... what happened. Us." Oz picked up a piece of tomato and ate it - looked over at Xander and then at Spike, who were both tense.

"And? Christ, wolfling, what?" Hurt you? Wolf, love you.

Love you, Oz. Tell us. Oz smiled a little - a private, a secret sort of smile. Let one tiny image slip through the link, and Spike blinked at the jolt of arousal that hit him - his own, and Xander's, and Oz.

"He's all right. We are. He - understood." Knows everything. Love you both.

"Thank god." Xander grinned at Oz - nudged him with an elbow, and Oz just ducked his head and grinned down at the tomatoes - reached for a pepper and started chopping it. "Tell him how much he helped, okay, Oz? Tell him I said thanks." Oz nodded, and Xander went back to his vegetables.

The phone rang and Xander and Oz both held up knives and vegetable-smeared hands and Spike grimaced and got up. He hated phones - noisy, intrusive things always interrupting at the wrong soddin' moment, always bringing bad news or trouble or some bloody fool selling something and he'd managed to talk Xander out of a cell phone twice.

Didn't actually talk. Just distracted him with my mouth until he forgot he wanted one. Spike smirked to himself and picked up the phone as if it were a poisonous snake.

"'Lo?" he asked cautiously, and frowned at Anya's rapid, panicky question. Trouble, always trouble.

"Nope - sorry. Haven't heard from Glinda all day. Why - What?" All chopping ceased, and Spike felt Xander and Oz looking at him.

"Fuck - yeah - right there." He slammed the phone down - shot information through the link rapid-fire as he strode into the bedroom for his boots.

Glory acolyte, shop, Glory thinks Glinda is the Key - Red and Slayer looking - Xander was right behind him, shoving bare feet into his work-boots and grabbing one of the axes they'd brought home from the shop.

"Why would she think Tara -?"

"Who fuckin' knows? One'a those little trolls of hers is at the shop - Watcher got it to talk but I'll bet it'll talk more." Spike didn't even bother to keep the demon at bay and he snatched his duster and a blanket and all but ran for the door, the others behind him. Late afternoon sunlight slanting blood-red across the yard, almost intolerably bright to demon eyes, and he ran for the DeSoto, blanket in place, not noticing the slight burn he got on his wrist. Xander and Oz crowded into the front seat and he turned the key - engine revving and Motorhead blasting out at them, Lemmy advising him to 'put the bite on the son of a bitch' - a sentiment Spike wholly agreed with but he snapped the stereo off as he reversed out of the driveway. Not the time.

Driving, pushing the DeSoto to top speed where he could, the pounding human heartbeats next to him injecting a further note of urgency that made Spike snarl.

"Red and her were gonna do this fair thing, this -"

"Yeah - near the river - west of campus," Oz said, and Spike nodded.

"She went to look." Wanna-?

Drop us, yeah. "You'll -"

"Magic Box." Spike glanced over at Xander - felt a warm hand on his thigh. Love you CAREFUL be careful, damnit, wolfling be CAREFUL. Glinda...

"Yeah," Oz said, Protect pack, and Spike took a hard right and saw people - booths - World's Culture Fair banner and he hit the brakes.

"Right. Go. Love you! Get her and get out!" Quick, hot brush of lips along his cheekbone and they were gone and he was gunning the engine again, making a u-turn and speeding back towards the Magic Box; four minutes and he'd be there.

Sick of this, sick of this bitch fuckin' with Xan's - with MY - family. Better not have killed that little bastard, Watcher, I wanna make it SCREAM.

Through the front windows of the Magic Box, Anya was pacing fretfully, eyeing with loathing the scabby acolyte tied to a chair. The Watcher was leaning on the display counter, looking more Ripper than usual. As Spike pelted in under the blanket they both jumped, and Spike smelled the little jolt of fear from them when they saw his face.

"Spike! Where are -"

"Xander an' the wolf are at the fair-thing, helping Red. They'll find her if she's there. Where's the Slayer? And Niblet?"

"Buffy went to check on campus - Dawn is with Clem." Giles' voice was thick with tension. Spike tossed the blanket down on the lighted table - circled the acolyte who cringed, wild-eyed.

"I serve G-Glorificus and any harm you do to me will be v-v-visited upon you ten-fold!"

"You think?" Spike asked, leaning down into the acolyte's face, baring his fangs. "I think that if she can't actually find enough of you to figure out if you're one of hers or the dog's fuckin' dinner, there won't be much bloody retribution happening. What'd it tell you, Watcher?" Giles looked at the acolyte, his eyes steely behind his glasses.

"Only that Glory thought Tara was the key. Because she's the newest one among us."

"Huh. That's not much." Spike took his duster off and folded it - draped it carefully over a chair-back. Making a bit of a show. He looked around the room - flexed his hands, making the knuckles crack.

"Be a shame to get - bits - all over the things in here. An' - blood's hard to get out, no matter what you do. Wha'dya think, Watcher?"

"I think I have a spell. A variant on a containment spell. Should work a treat." The acolyte looked wildly from Spike to Giles and back - looked at Anya, who was all cool interest.

"You will l-learn nothing! Glorificus -" Spike backhanded him, and the acolyte had blood down its chin - tongue bitten badly.

"I don't wanna hear that name right now. Ready with the spell, Watcher?" Spike grabbed the back of the chair and tipped it - dragged the acolyte back to the training room. Giles followed, hastily grabbing chalk and some herbs. Anya stood in the doorway, arms crossed.

"I'll just stay here. I've got a good view and I can hear the phone. Do you need any knives, or pliers, or matches?"

"Think we're well set up, ducks, thanks." Spike drew his knife from his boot - tapped it against his lower lip thoughtfully and circled the acolyte as Giles did the spell.

"That's all right then," he said softly as Giles finished, and bent to his work.

Running, trying very, very hard not to knock people aside. The hyena pushing his senses to the limit and the soldier quartering and dismissing sections of the grounds with swift, hard glances. Oz beside him, eyes black, trying to keep the wolf at bay. Scenting for Willow and Tara and following the scent through the crowd like a rope of twisted green and red. Fury pounding through the link from Spike, and abruptly something else - gleeful satisfaction and an almost mindless bloodlust. Xander knew the acolyte was getting something very nasty done to it, and he hoped it had something more to tell them than what they already knew. Oz growled, swinging his head abruptly over to the left and then he darted away, follow follow follow in the link. Xander ran after him - dodged a juggler and nearly tripped over a baby-stroller and then he saw them. Willow and Tara, cuddling close on a park bench. Willow had Tara's head on her shoulder, and Tara was holding her hand awkwardly - bleeding.

Light witch HURT.

She found her she found her thank god, as they ran up to the bench - skidded to a stop, panting. Willow looked up at them, her eyes streaming tears, her mouth working in silent, anguished sobs. Tara didn't move, and then she did - looked at Oz and at Xander, utterly blank.

"There's no way out, when you're blind," Tara said solemnly, and Willow shook, gasping.

"Wills? Oh fuck, Wills, what - what happened?" Xander crouched down by Willow's knees, grabbing her wrist and squeezing. Willow took in a hard, moaning kind of breath.

"I was too late! I was t-too late, Xander I was - I was too laa-aaate." She started to sob brokenly, curling into Tara who looked serenely out at the crowds. Oz sat heavily on the bench beside Tara, biting his lip, and Xander bowed his head for a moment, fighting rage - fighting tears. Tara moved in Willow's tight grip - flinched and made a gasping sound of pain when her bloody hand bumped Willow's arm.

"Wills? What happened to her hand? We - she needs to go to the hospital, Willow."

Spike! Have to go to the hospital. Tara - she got Tara... Rage, from Spike, strong enough to make he and Oz both flinch, and then silence as Spike abruptly shut the link down to almost nothing. Xander was pretty sure the acolyte was dead. And Spike was on his way.

"Willow - Spike's coming. He's gonna bring the car and we'll get Tara to the hospital. Willow? You've got to - get it together, Willow. Tara needs you to be calm, okay? You have to talk to the doctors for her." Xander put his hand on Willow's shoulder - shook her, just a little, and Willow gasped and coughed. Sat up finally, and wiped at her face, sniffing. Oz stood up and darted off, coming back a minute later with a stack of paper napkins. Willow took them gratefully and blew her nose - wiped her eyes again.

"Okay. Okay, Xander, okay. I'm - I'll be okay. Thanks, Oz. Oh god, Xander -" Willow closed her eyes - groped blindly and gripped Xander's hand tightly for a moment.

"It'll be okay, Willow, it will." Xander stood up, looking around warily at the fair grounds. The sun was mostly down - lights were coming on all over the booths and exhibits, but it was still dark - still shadowy and full of places to lurk - to hide.

Gotta get out of here, Harris. She might come back -

Yeah. Right. Gotta go.

"Willow, come on, we're gonna walk back up to the street so we can meet Spike, okay?" Willow looked at him for a moment then nodded - wiped her eyes one more time and put on a variant of her 'resolve' face that looked like it might crack at any moment.

Trying so hard, from Oz, full of grief, and Xander pushed himself to his feet - held his hand out. "C'mon, Wills." Willow took his hand - stood up and then helped Tara up, being careful of her hand. Tara flinched anyway and ducked her head - twisted her good hand in the hem of her shirt and shuffled obediently along beside Willow as they started to walk towards the street. Oz hovered at Tara's side, not quite touching her.

Pack, soft and so sad in the link.

"What - what happened, Wills?" Xander asked quietly, and Willow sniffed ferociously and gave a sort of barking laugh.

"We - we had a fight. I was feeling all - second-best and I said - I said some s-stuff, and she - she left, said she'd just come down here... And then, that little demon, at the shop - it said it was there to watch us while Glory got her key..." Willow hugged Tara a little closer, guiding her around a knot of boisterous students and Tara smiled at her - looked up at the sky.

"Too late now, cat's out of the box. Should have killed it," Tara said, and Willow gulped.

"She - Glory did that - that thing to her - took her mind... Xander, what am I gonna do?" Willow's voice cracked on the last and Xander put his arm around her shoulder.

"We'll fix it Willow - we will. We'll figure it out. Tara's going to be okay. She'll be okay." He thought for a moment about mentioning Spike - that she'd done that to him, too, but -

Don't and he looked over at Oz - nodded. It really wasn't the same. They were at the street now, and Xander could hear the DeSoto roaring towards them, and they kept walking, trying to cut the distance. The car skidded around a corner and came to a screeching halt, and Spike was half out of the door, looking at them across the roof.

"C'mon - get in!" he called, and Oz trotted forward to open the back door for Willow and Tara. As they approached, Tara recoiled, looking into the dark interior with trepidation.

"Oh no, no, no - too dark. They can find you in the dark," she whimpered, and Spike did something - made the dome light come on. Xander hadn't even realized it worked.

"It's all right, pet. Not dark now. Bundle her in Red, that hand looks like it hurts." Fuckin' bitch is gonna PAY...Glinda...

Willow shot a grateful look at Spike and coaxed Tara into the back seat. Oz climbed in after her and pulled the door shut as Xander got into the front.

Not too fast - don't scare her, Xander thought, and Spike looked over his shoulder at the girls.

"Ready then?"

"We're ready, Spike. I guess you're - all right now, huh?" Willow was holding Tara close and Tara had closed her eyes.

"Right as rain, witchling." Spike put the DeSoto into gear and they drove to the hospital at an amazingly sedate pace - but still faster than Xander would have dared drive. Giles and Anya were waiting at the desk, Giles with a clipboard half filled out, Anya looking grim. Willow gulped and steeled herself, and led Tara down the white, antiseptic corridor to the waiting doctor.

It turned out Glinda-witch's hand was broken - six bones - and Spike watched Xander and Oz try to keep Willow calm - try to comfort her. Hovering over Tara as much as Willow did.

Pack pack pack, in the link, the wolf and the hyena both angry and hyper-protective. Red was over her first shock, and Spike could see the fury building in her - fury that threatened to spill over onto a hapless orderly who told her that Tara had to spend the night in a ward - 'observation, just a precaution'. But the scent of anger and magic rose around Willow like a hot, stinging cloud and Spike wondered what she was gonna do with all that. He wanted to get Xander and Oz away - that much thwarted fury was never a safe thing - but he knew they'd be there as long as Willow was. And Tara - huddled on the gurney, smelling of fear and her eyes looking into some dark place only she could see. The demon wanted to get her away, only seeing the threat of out-of-control magics, uncaring of the link between the two witches. Buffy arrived, hollow-eyed and grim, out of breath. Giles tried to distract himself by asking Spike how he was - what had happened exactly, over the past week, but Spike wasn't in the mood to share. He growled and lit a cigarette, ignoring the baleful looks Giles shot him, ignoring the tentative 'excuse me' some little nothing of a nurse aimed at him. A bigger, less tentative orderly curtly told him there was 'no smoking' in the hospital and Spike snarled and flicked his cigarette into the man's chest, at the end of his patience. Before the orderly could quite recover from his shock Xander was there, apologizing, telling him that Spike's 'sister' was hurt and Spike was just a little out of it and he was so sorry. Spike just turned and put his boot through the cinderblock wall and then stood there, shivering, as Xander leaned into him, blanketing him and putting his arms around him, holding him close.

What is it? What's wrong?

Red's gonna fuckin' blow - gotta get out of here - Glinda's makin' me - Spike could barely form a coherent thought. Every time Tara said something - whimpered in fear - some part of his week's worth of nightmares would come back to him. Glory's voice in his head 'small and scared and dirty and when it finds you it's gonna PUNISH you and you can't get OUT' and even though he knew it was just - echoes, bad dreams - it twisted at something in him and he was pretty sure he couldn't stand to be there and hear Tara go through it much longer.

Love, it's all right, you're sa