Chronos' Puppet

Alright people, we're almost at the end! Thanks to everyone who gave this story such great reviews...it really helped me to keep going when the muse wasn't talking. Remember, Feedback keeps me writing, so keep sending them in!

*****************

Solomon's room had been warded against eavesdroppers as soon as the doors slid shut. It
would only allow sound through if the panels opened again or if counterspelled by the
Master himself. Xander sat against the column adjacent to the doorframe and waited.
This conversation could result in so many actions that even Xander couldn't foresee the
outcome. It would ultimately depend on whether his Sire was in a benevolent mood and
if Spike would hold his tongue. So close to his goal to have his prodigal childe by his
side at last; meditation was hard to perform with his mind racing the way it was.

So he sat with his thoughts as he listened to the boys in the monastery settle down for the
night.

The disembodied voice of his sire from beyond the door came on so unexpectedly that
Xander almost thought he had heard his own dead heart start to beat. Steeling his nerves,
he opened the door and looked inside.

Solomon's custom was that if a vampire, minion or otherwise, was unworthy to continue
in the ranks a stake would be passed to the maker of said vampire to kill the offending
creature. Xander saw Spike conscious and sitting quite comfortably by Solomon's side,
and felt a rush of relief as he was called forward. His sire did not reach for the sharp
piece of wood usually kept hidden under his chair but stood and approached Xander,
clasping him warmly on the shoulder.

"He can stay." Xander nodded at his sire, his eyes belaying his gratitude for allowing
Spike this chance in the order. "He needs to feed, and from what I know of that device in
his head, you will have to see that he receives his food. James, you are wholly
responsible for his conduct and training here; if he falls out of favour it will be on your
hands. Do you accept?"

Again, Xander nodded. "Yes, sire. I understand." Solomon stepped back and sat in the
armchair, lounging in the way that housecats would in a stray beam of sunlight. "Good.
Now that this nonsense is out of the way I expect you to start focusing on what goes on in
the Order. You will be allowed the customary two weeks leave allowed to those who sire
new childer, as you both were denied that initially." Solomon raised an eyebrow at Spike,
who seemed to be his biting his tongue to shreds to keep from reminding the Master that
he was still in the room, and not a sodding dog that needed housebreaking. A rare, wry
smirk crossed the Master's face at Spike's poker face. "Although, if you need another
week, you may have it. I suspect there are some habits that need to be readjusted."

"Oi!"

Xander bit back his own laugh at Spike's outburst, but had also dropped the formal stance
into something a bit more relaxed. "Mission Impossible again, Sire. I'm not a miracle
worker, but I'll give it my best shot." He glanced at his childe again. Spike practically
vibrated with fury at the teasing jabs, and Xander decided it was time to get the blonde
settled in. "By your leave, sire?" With Solomon's permission, Xander bent forward and
kissed the opal signet ring on his Sire's right hand before tapping Spike on the shoulder
for him to heel. Spike practically flew out of his chair, a curt bow towards Solomon
before following Xander out with the duster flapping wildly around his ankles.

When the doors slid shut once more Spike grabbed Xander and shoved him against the
wall. "What the hell, Whelp! I'm not a bleedin' mutt to bring to heel and paper train! 'I
suspect there are some habits that may be adjusted'. Soddin Chr..." The last statement
was cut off as Xander switched their positions with a manoeuvre that made Spike's head
spin.

"Spike. Not so close to the Master's door, okay? You were lucky in there. If he wasn't in
so good a mood that simple 'Oi' you gave him would have been enough for Sol to rip out
your tongue and feed it to you. It's only the fact that you've proven yourself by offing a
few slayers and being the childe of the Master's Heir that you're still in one piece.
Just...give it a chance, alright? If you can't control your temper at a few jokes you're not
going to last a night here. To him, you're just a fledge." Xander stepped back, and started
down the dimly lit corridor towards the main room. Cursing to himself, the blonde
followed his sire into the chamber and out into the night.

"'M not a fledge."

Xander stopped at the petulant mutter and turned to its owner. "I know. Think of it this
way; just because someone is a blackbelt in one fighting style, doesn't make them an
expert in all of them. They have to start from square one if they switch. Like I've said,
you've proven yourself out there, but not to Solomon. I know you're not a fledge, Will,
and I wish I could have had a hand in guiding you instead of Angelus..." the name was
bitten off with a growl and Spike could see the flash of gold appear for a moment in the
chocolate irises. There was too much emotion here...to much that was still hanging over
them and it was putting Spike on edge.

"We'll make the most of it now, eh? Looks like Grandsire has given us a bit of a
honeymoon to make up for that, so enough with the bloody angst. I'm starving!"

"Hey, you were the one complaining about being back in vampire kindergarten."

"Was not!"

"You so were! ''M not a fledge!'..." Xander whined in perfect imitation of his childe.

Spike elbowed his sire, who smacked him on the back of the head before bolting for one
of the suspended bridges that led to the cliff dwellings. Grateful that the awkwardness
had passed the blonde grinned and ran after Xander. He was seeing more of the James he
knew at that moment then the self-conscious Droopy Boy Harris from Sunnydale and he
wondered to himself for the upteenth time that night about what he had just gotten
himself into.