Elderly Pets

Fic: Elderly Pets

Author: josie_h

Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: Mature Audiences (M/M sexual content! And themes)
***Warnings: D/s, Major character death, slavery***

It’s an AU!..... The Premise: A hundred and fifty years after the final battle with the Senior Partners… Demons rule the world. The luckier humans are pets…. Most are bred for food. Spike survived, and in the early days found Xander at an auction, purchased him and did what Spike does best…. Made the most of it.

Author’s Note: Don’t own the characters etc and bow down to their original creators Joss, et al., plus all the wonderful online writers who continue to give them life.


Part 10

……………………..

Master had given strict instructions that their father should be in an open coffin, unfettered but for the ruby arm band that was Master’s. He was to have only his favorite comfortable white sweat pants on. The unusual request was that he there be a rug tucked around him, Master *insisting* to Daniel that his Pet wouldn’t want to be cold! Matilda was Spike’s sitter that hour and it suddenly occurred to her that father was to be cremated which meant… too warm… She dismissed herself and swiftly made for the bathroom in time to grace a fluffy white towel with a flood of tears and muffled, grief stricken wail.

Daniel was leaning against the door frame when his red eyed sister looked up. “You OK?”

“Yes.. No! Oh Danny!…” She sniffed hard and composed herself, “K..I’ll be fine.”

“ K well I’ve gotta go, you know, fix this rug thing, then the kids can come through. We better get things moving, ‘cause once the others start arriving tomorrow evening, it’ll be bedlam”

“Just wish we could have a happier reason to get everyone together.” She replaced the towel on the rung and moved to the door, and noted how very tired Daniel looked. “Let me get the rug Danny. I’ll send up some food for you and Master, then you should both try to get a few hours sleep. And he might relax more if he knows it’s you in the room…. C’mon, you know I’m right.”

There was no protest, rather Daniel simply leaned down and kissed his sister on the forehead with a relieved, “Thanks… tell John where I am would you?”

The woman nodded and with a concerned look at Master, departed the suite.

Just on a half hour later, a long line of children, youngest to oldest and accompanied by nannies, handlers (who for the younger ones referred to themselves by the tongue in cheek term ‘herders’) and all the mothers, filed past the open casket, raised only slightly from the floor, so even the smallest could see. Each carried a flower from the Chateau gardens and was told that rather than everyone giving Grandfather a kiss, they should kiss their flower and make a wish for the future. Each child then placed the flower beside the coffin and was allowed close enough to whisper their personal goodbye. It was a slow procession but important for many of the younger ones who, once ‘free’ again and outside playing, seemed quite impressed by the whole thing. Desmonde was seated on a swing under one of the large trees, feeding her latest daughter, and couldn’t help but smile a little at some of the snatches of conversation drifting toward her:


“He looked really comfortable. I’ll bet that’s why vampires sleep in coffins”
“Do not.”
“Do too.”
“Master doesn’t.”
“But he’s a *Master* Vampire stupid so he’s special… *all* the normal ones do.”

“Did you see the Master’s ruby cuff on his wrist? … And Master must have his collar… Oh that’s *so* romantic!”

“D’ya think the soul leaves right away?… ‘Cause it looked like Grandfather but like it really was just his body there. Weird”

“Imagine what he’s done in a hundred and eighty five years! You know he used to fight demons when he was our age… you know before the Rise.”
“Yeah but did *you* know that Master and Grandfather fought together back then too, that’s kinda cool.”
“Everyone knows they did dumbass.”
“Not outside the family they wouldn’t.”

Desmonde felt a pang of pride in the last exchange… Outsiders wouldn’t know, but they admired anyway …
……………..

It was late in the fifty first year of the Chateau Aurelius Stud’s existence when they received the news. The Master of Aurelius, William the Bloody had been successfully voted onto the Alliance of Ruling Regions as the representative of all the southern European clans eligible to be present. Established twenty years after the demon wars, its purpose was to set and enforce standards of production and trade (this covered the treatment and rights of humans), plus settle the occasional territorial dispute. With only sixteen regions around the globe given a vote, it allowed Spike and his liberal followers an opportunity to change the draconian ‘human breeding and behavior’ laws still plaguing the world.

Spike and his fellow breeders, plus many of the liberal thinkers in the demon world celebrated the appointment with a lavish dinner party in the front of the house. While the members of the Aurelian Stud Line and their handlers celebrated in the rear. The handlers also had a vested interest in the laws shifting, as it was not unheard of to have a handler severely punished for failing to control an ‘errant human’… and it did not matter that human’s life role. In many establishments the handlers were treated little better than the slaves they controlled. The Master was known for being firm but fair with his staff, and they all took their sworn allegiance too him very seriously. Few had seen his game face, those that did would never forget ‘the lesson’. Spike was nearing three hundred years since his turning, if he was angry, a dark and terrifying power flowed from him in waves. He had but to growl at that point and compliance was absolute.

The first week long meeting of the year for the Alliance was to be held in the former Abu Dhabi (United Arab Emirates) and hosted by the controlling Clans whose territory covered the whole of the old Middle East. It may have been only Xander, Spike, and a handful of others, who were old enough to see the irony in the fact that it was now the most peaceful of the large demon ‘nations’ on the planet.

The travel had been easy. A personal jet landed vertically on the front lawn of the Chateau, much to the delight of the children who had been allowed to watch from the safety of the enclosed playground. The interior of the plane was plush but simple, with two seats and two kneeling pads, one at each chair, and a lounge area with bar at the rear. The copilot politely took the luggage then indicated that Spike with Xander at heel, should enter. He then busied himself showing Spike how to secure his pet beside him in the down kneel position, ready for the takeoff. When Xander was in position, one harness passed comfortably around his upper back from anchor points under Spike’s seat and provided padded and adjustable cuffs for the arms to rest in. The other was similar to the usual lap belt. With shoulders and head resting on a purpose built cushion, and Spike stroking his hair the entire journey, it really was a comfortable ride. In fact he slept a fair part of the way. Xander woke when the copilot flipped open the tiny door and announced that their ETA was two hours.

“Waddya say Pet…. Shall we join the mile high club?”

“What if we hit turbulence? I might you know….accidentally bite it off.”

“Weren’t thinkin’ of that luv… There’s a perfectly fine lounge suite back there goin’ beggin’.”

“Are you sure you can get this thing back on me for landing?”

“Thinkin’ of buyin’ one for home pet … you look right pretty all trussed up…”

“Are we gonna talk or do.”

“Gonna do you …. Then we get there ‘n you do me… deal?”

Xander grinned and looked up batting his eyelashes dramatically, “Hi I’m Xander, I’ll be your steward for the duration of the flight …. How do you like your ass served sir?”

The remainder of the flight was rather a bumpy one, but the bumping was of balls against backsides not of wind currents on fuselage.


The hotel was exclusive and all gold and marble… and more slaves than there were jobs to do. It seemed that the remainder were being used as hallway decoration, as most did not move from their down kneel for many hours at a time. After the cosseted environment of the Chateau, it was always hard to observe, yet these were in fact some of the lucky ones … but then that’s why Spike was here, they were here, to make it better.

The night before the meeting, the cocktail party would have been better called a ‘pissing contest’, as the experienced delegates sized up their fellow Alliance members and spoke loudly of the various marvelous things that were being achieved in their region, and how instrumental they were in the process. The bullies on the block were easily recognizable as the cartel that now controlled almost half the former North American continent. Though it was well known that their methods of enforcement and control were becoming so extreme that the dissent was growing from within their ‘nation’, and the outcry from without was beginning to tell on their control.

Spike was introduced, Xander listened and analyzed. Several times left kneeling in a corner, he was able to discern conversations amongst demons from the not so known regions… quickly sorting them into categories according to their stated politics. By a stroke of luck, ‘the Yan-kees’ (he had no hope of pronouncing their full title!) were standing behind him as he knelt in a formal down position, ‘waiting’ for Master to return from discussions with the Russo/Northern emissary. (And how often they had used that tactic, and won out). The demons were in a huddle discussing the ‘newcomers’, who was a threat, who was most powerful, and who most vulnerable. Obviously unused to ‘slaves’ listening in, or being versed in several demon languages, or being the other half of a very influential Master Vampire’s team, they discussed their chosen targets and possible methods of ‘persuasion’ freely.

The Vampire with the Soul was the softest target they decided. His elderly, grey-haired, pampered breeding slave, was representative of everything they hated. They had heard that the Vampire no longer hunted, so would be weak, and his slave would be no trouble. The only difficulty was the when and how… They were about power and control… and public displays of the same. It was still not resolved as the group wandered out of earshot.

If Xander of Sunnydale was often underestimated, then Xander, Prize Pet of Ensouled Master, was almost entirely ignored. With his ageing locks, priceless body adornments, and newly acquired silver streaked moustache and goatee, he would of course be thought of as a mere accessory. Xander suddenly became extremely grateful that despite his age, he and Spike had kept up training and sparring in all forms of martial arts. And although the vampire had to be careful not to hurt his lovely human, the activity was always exhilarating and inevitably finished with a post spar spa (with underwater activities of course… Spike remained champion of the longest time spent underwater blowing his friend… Xander never had a hope of winning that contest!) . The teaching of fighting and weapon use techniques were – as to be expected – banned for all slaves, so practice was conducted in the gym or the movie theatre – Spike insistent that it was the darkness factor, Xander aware it was the lovely couches that were the attraction, making the transition from sparring to shagging spectacularly swift.

Back in their hotel room, Master and Pet continued to play their parts. The high pitched whine of electrical equipment made them ever mindful that their every move would be monitored. It was as much for their protection as for spying purposes, nevertheless, they had done this before. Master led the Pet to the bedroom by the rarely used lead.

“Undress me, Pet, then I would have you prepare yourself.”

“Yes Master”

This was old territory for them. Xander and Spike had (over the years) watched so much B grade porn, that it was a challenge to see who could outdo the other in corny lines for their ‘spy’ camera. While at a similar (though lower level) meeting in Venice, Spike almost gave the game away by describing, in amorous Italian, the delights of his Pet’s ass, accompanied by kisses of such melodrama, that the silent film actresses of old would have been outdone. By the time he was half way through, Xander burst into a fit of giggles and was only silenced by a single thrust to full penetration and passionate kiss.

This night however, much needed to be discussed, so noises would only be of the ‘usual’ variety. Well timed loud panting, grunts, begging and groans confounded the sound reception as equipment attempted to adjust to the variation from yelling to near silence. But vampire hearing was *made* for picking up the whispered information given, as the Pet apparently nibbled his Master’s ear while being ‘well shagged’.

Their next opportunity was in the huge spa in their suite, with bubbles on the Yan-kee challenge was discussed amidst a series of lazy kisses. They didn’t know when or where, but Spike knew it would be soon.

In the first day, the opening speeches over, each delegation was given five minutes to table particular issues concerning their region. Spike spoke of the concessions in existing laws being sought for humans in their region for the sake of economic growth and tourism in the ever popular Southern Europe Stud areas. The Yan-kee delegation guffawed rudely at the suggestion, and as Spike attempted to continue, interjected loudly that a decent torture chamber would bring a bigger crowd. This brought sniggers from some at the table. Xander, his head bowed and ears tuned to the positions around the conference table, quickly noted who. Spike attempted to continue with some other trade concerns regards the ongoing lack of standard pricing for raw materials and simply paused politely, as the larger Groxlar Beast agreed. Adding that the increasing shortages of some staple products in their region was compounding the pricing issue. He too, was rudely interrupted, this time by the demon to the right of the Yan-kees who was obviously a little slow when it came to the ‘art’ of heckling, yelled ‘What like bagged sheep’s blood and false fangs for the oldies.’

Spike’s polite silence and lack of reaction to any of this, gave him the air of authority rather than weakness, something that made his pet immensely proud, and the Yan-kees and their supporters livid. Eventually the meeting proceeded and some progress made, so a food break was called.

They were ushered into a lavish hall with two long tables heaving with all manner of foods. The diets of all present were catered for, and there was enough fruit for pets to also be fed. Xander preferred not to eat, and was so close at heel to his Master that they were almost touching.

They were at the back of the queue as the demons processed around the tables, selecting various tidbits. Spike took his time collecting an odd variety of blood, fried items and a sticky chunk of fresh honeycomb. The last choice puzzled Xander a little, but then he saw why. The rest of the group was busy gorging themselves and talking loudly as Spike ordered his Pet to get him a napkin. Apparently “The honey is dripping all over me hand here”.

In order to comply, Xander had to lean across a section of meats where several short carving knives lay. As he stood back, the knives were gone.

Head bowed as protocol dictated, the Pet announced, “Master, I picked up two.”

“Well give one here! Quick. No second thoughts, you do it, just… while I’ve got my hand up. Well come on!”

Xander wiped his Master’s hand and as he did so, the folds of the napkin concealed the knife sliding down Spike’s sleeve, handle first.

Without a sideways glance Spike simply said, “And you’d better hold on to the other one for later, case I need it.” And began to suck the honey from the wax, this time apparently he was surprisingly less awkward.

Xander dropped into a formal kneel again, large starched serviette with its enclosed prize held ready should Master need it. They were both on standby, if nothing happened then all well and good. They didn’t have to wait long for the something.

The leader of the Yan-kee cartel was a huge, grey-brown Yh’nkeelie demon, and whose face was a parody of a warthog, marched up to Spike attempting to intimidate with his size. Spike had been smaller than most male humans and vampires all of his life and unlife, so was utterly unimpressed. And that managed to further anger the Yh’nkeelie, “Look…It’s our new friend from the Land-of-Too-Much with his [snigger] Pet. You know, the other bloke from your place, what was his name… anyway, sad that he met with an accident at one of these. But you’re already dead so I’d personally be more worried about that old breeding slave of yours while you’re here.”

“That right mate…. Well why don’t you run on back to your little boot lickers over there and find someone who might give a toss about your threats. I’m here to do business, sustainable trade. You seem to be here for the food and some childish posturing. So if ya don’t understand the concepts of ruling clans, honor, and carin for, and feedin’ the bloody population on your side of the pond, then I can’t see how you’ll be around here for much longer anyway. Ever heard of the French Revolution mate?” Spike had done his homework. The point was made and the whole room knew that they had had to deal with the bullies before, while their support across their regional clans was solid. But if Yan-kee control was waning, it would no doubt mean a split, and two or three new regions to consider for membership of the Alliance. The other delegates stopped to consider carefully the need to continue to ally themselves with a ruling group that had made nothing but trouble for the Alliance to date.

The huge demon realized his error, and roared his frustration and anger, then made a lunge for Spike and missed. Spike and Xander knew the others of the Yan-kee delegation (allegedly ‘body guards’), and the ‘happy heckler’ from the morning meeting, had moved to surround them while they were ‘otherwise occupied’. The rest of the room froze. The fight for power was a familiar one, this one just happened to be physical.

Spike turned to face his assailant as he dropped into game face and slid the knife into his hand. What shocked the audience was the Aurelian Master’s old Pet. The grey haired human (complete with glittering body jewelry) was instantly on his feet and back to back with his Master in identical fighting stance. The Pet was also armed with a knife. Both held their short weapons blade out for slicing, and to keep a punch with that hand an option.

The attacking demons seemed unsure for a moment, until their leader roared and went for Spike. He met Xander’s blade instead, his demon neck sliced almost clean through. Their reversing positions startled the incoming three demons, who faltered. The two closest taken out by the lightening fast round house kick that came with Spike’s change of position. The kick broke the first one’s neck and knocked the demon next to him half way across the room. Xander had seen the ‘heckler’ heading for him but it was on his blind side as he turned, and he knew he needed help. It came swiftly in the form of Spike’s thrown knife severing his attacker’s spine. Xander tossed his own knife deftly to Spike as the last remaining attacker began to move… but the assailant must have thought the better of it. The demon stopped and knelt in supplication.

The Aurelian Master moved over to the food table, ceremonially picking up a napkin and wiped the blade. He then placed the knife with particular precision, back in its original position. His Pet, was still panting but fairly pleased with himself, had dropped to his knees in a formal position leaning lightly against his Master’s thigh. Spike bent down, cupped his Pet’s face with both hands, and very publicly kissed him on the forehead. “Nicely done Pet. Nicely done.”

Xander knew that there would be many kisses in other places shortly, but even Spike’s small public gesture brought gasps from a few of the conservatives.

The fallout was extraordinary. The remaining cartel delegation was ejected from the meeting for their conduct. Spike and Xander were a little concerned that there might be retaliation from the cartel but the roll on effect was one of accelerating the complete downfall of their rule and an end to their stranglehold on the region. There was an immediate emergence of new more moderate clusters of Clans willing to participate in the Alliance.

Spike was hailed the hero of the moment, and demand for the Aurelian Stud Stock trebled with most of the world’s leaders and elite now wanting their Pets from the line and so trained. The Aurelian Founding Stud Sire became legend, and as the story was retold, descriptions of ‘the diamond back chains sparkling as he moved to defend his Master’ became more and more exaggerated… The numbers attending the open days at the Chateau bordered on the ridiculous, until Spike put a ceiling limit on visitor numbers and demanded that priority be given to those with more than a passing desire to see the offspring of the famous Aurelian Founding Sire. The vampire community was perhaps the only group unimpressed, grumbling that any claimed human life partner was bound by blood to react the way he did, though still gave a nod to the odds and the outcome.

Progress was still altogether too slow for Spike’s liking, but he persevered, and over the next twenty eight years as the two of them began to turn the tide in meetings, Xander always had a special cushion for him to kneel on as a sign of respect. In January of the thirtieth year of Spike’s membership, Daniel followed his Master into the room. Some of the older delegates were sad not to see the, by then white haired, genteel human, and felt a pang of nostalgia as an era passed.

………………….

The stud coordinator Marcus, and Spike’s closest business associate, a mild mannered Marsett demon, Master Janni (whom Xander had taken a liking to instantly – he had ‘Clem features’) were the organizers of the ‘formal’ funeral. They had invited all members of the Alliance as protocol demanded, but as expected, some still opposed to the reforms Spike and his supporters had enacted, declined the invitation to a *human’s* funeral. They would not be missed.

Janni suggested the political and business leaders to invite while the breeders and buyers were invited, as they were also requested that they bring any of the direct Aurelian line in their possession. Others on the guest list were selected from a few prominent members of the local and regional community, and of course the press.

Marcus discussed the arrangements for the offspring with Daniel and John, behind closed doors. And the many minor details that might make the day for the Master just that much easier. The demon was a remarkable support and comfort to the two sons and where possible preempted their wishes. This meant that a tired “Yes that’s wonderful”, was all that was gratefully required of them on this occasion.

As they walked down back toward their quarters, John slung a friendly arm around his brother’s shoulders. “We’ve gotta take him to see the casket soon.”

“Yeah I know… You been?”

“Yeah… twice… needed to.. um.. well just…”

“You want a drink?”

“You have no idea.”

“C’mon then, don’t think Master will mind a little scotch on the breath.”

“My rooms, drinks, then we’ll take him together.”

“Yeah, together.”


…………………………..