Chronos' Puppet

Xander's own dwelling was a higher up on the cliff-face then the monastery itself,
practically next door...if you ignored the long suspension bridge above a bottomless
chasm and the hundred steps to get there. Spike didn't. He skid to a halt at the sight of it
and cursed. Xander was already a quarter of a way along the rickety contraption when he
noticed that there wasn't an echoing bounce on the bridge to tell of his childe's following.

"Spike? You alright?"

"Yeah. Fine. Just peachy, Xan." Spike did not have a fear of heights, or so he told
himself. Rooftops did not count. The abyss that the suspension bridge hung over did.
He steeled himself and took the first step on to the weathered wooden slat and swallowed
hard as it creaked. "Bloody..."

The bouncing increased and Spike closed his eyes tightly as his sire approached. A hand
gripped his own tightly and the blonde forced himself to look at a concerned Xander that
seemed to be hiding his shock at his childe's behaviour. "Heights, Spike?"

Biting back a snark he only nodded. "It's a long way down, pet. Don't trust the
architecture."

"It's sturdier then it looks. Maintain it myself. Come on, I'll get you over." Pulling
gently on Spike's hand, Xander eased the other vampire onto the bridge and slowly guided
him along its length. "Jesus, Xan, you think that with you being the Master's Heir you
could get something a little closer to home, yeah?"

"It's worth it for the view Spike. Trust me. You'll get used to it in no time."

'Yeah...gotta get used to a lot of things 'round here, don't I pet?' thought Spike as he
followed along behind his sire. Hands still gripped tightly together they inched along
until they finally met the looming rock face of the cliff. Xander drew Spike from the
bridge
and brought him forward so the blond would be taking the steps first. Just in case he
had to encourage Spike forward again. Grabbing the handholds carved into the rock,
Spike slowly
ascended a step at a time, never looking down beyond the narrow steps. He was surprised
at the lack of wind until he realised they were on the lee of the cliff. 'Clever, that,' he
mused. Finally the pair reached the top, and the blond eased onto the wide ledge that
jutted out from
the cliff and chanced a look around.

He gaped, stunned by the view. "Beauty, isn't it?" said Xander from behind, but Spike
hardly noticed him. The white jagged teeth of the snow-capped peaks glinted in the
moonlight like a shark's mouth, the moon itself suspended teasingly above their points.
Below was the monastery glowing warmly with its lamps and hearth fires before the rest
of the scenery disappeared into a shroud of clouds. A tug on the hand and Spike
reluctantly left the scene and followed Xander to the cave behind him.

A wooden wall sealed off the opening save for a door that Xander pulled open and they
stepped into the chilly air. With enhanced vision blessed by the light spilling from the
doorway Xander found what he was looking for and struck the match to light the small
woodburning stove in the corner before proceeding to light the lanterns. "Lot of fire for a
vampire to use, isn't it?" Inquired his childe, though Spike was impressed by the set up.
The pipe to the stove merged with the stone wall and let the smoke out into the open air
instead of the interior. Not that they had to breathe or anything to worry about smoke
inhalation, but the particulates would still have irritated the hell out of their eyes.

Xander looked up from lighting the last lamp and threw the used matches into the stove.
"Hard to get power-lines up here. It's easier to get a wood supply through gating
anyway."
He then turned to the cedar chest near the back of the room-sized cavern and opened it,
pulling out robes similar to what the monks below had worn. "Put these on and make
yourself at home. You don't eat if I don't eat, so I'm heading out for some food."

Seeing at this point the futility of asking why he should shed his duster for the cloaks,
Spike shrugged and grabbed for the saffron coloured cloth held out by his sire. By the
time he was finished dressing Xander was gone. This was seen as an opportunity by the
blonde to snoop around a bit, and he sat down on the pallet of furs and looked around.

Simple tapestries lined the walls, supposedly to keep out the cold and damp and trap
the warmth in. There was also an ornate rug on the floor with a vibrant mandala
patterned
in the weave. Over to the side of the door stood a washbasin complete with a natural
spring
for a constant supply of fresh water and a stand stood nearby draped with cloth Spike
presumed were towels. As for anything else that resembled furniture there were plenty of
wooden crates; some holding various flotsam such as spare candles and dishes or upside
down to be used as chairs or a small table.

It was the chest itself that held most of Spike's curiosity, and after a few glances around
the room he decided to have a peak. Whelp said to make himself at home right? So for
once he was going to listen to Sire's wishes and get familiar with the place. Peering
inside he
rummaged through old photographs of various lands including India, Japan, Moscow's
Red Square...all at night. Moving on downward were bits of fabric, some bloodied,
though
the scent was indiscernible and foreign, and various envelopes and pieces of paper. A
particular yellowed one caught his eye, as it looked like the sheet of paper had been
refolded many times while the other pages looked barely touched. Spike reached in and
gingerly took out the paper to unfold it, and sat back in shock as his handwriting stared
back at him.

The rhyming was terrible, the syntax even worse, but he knew the instant he saw it for
what it was. The poem he wrote about 'James' the morning after their drunken groping
session. How the hell did he find this!

"I found that by your bed when I went back to your house. I had to sneak away from Sol
to find it, but the beatings for being AWOL were worth it." Spike nearly jumped to his
feet at the sound of his sire's voice. Xander grinned down at his curious childe. 'Finally,
after all these years I got him back for the times he scared the shit out of me in the
basement,' he gleefully thought to himself. Spike glared like a startled cat, almost as
though he could read the words running through Xander's head.

"That was quick."

"Yeah, well I figured that saying to make yourself at home would be like saying 'feel free
to snoop in my personal effects'." grinned Xander. The blonde watched the other vampire
step forward to kneel beside him, and the chocolate eyes scanned the paper. "Saw that
you had written that after I woke up with that hangover the first night."

"You mean when you threw up in my ficus."

"Something like that, yeah."

"Don't think I need to ask why you went back for it, eh?" the scarred eyebrow cocked in
amusement at the other.

"Probably not. You did it, sentimental value, incriminating evidence to me fucking up
the timeline."

"Sure it was," smirked Spike. Xander glared, his eyes glinting with the mock challenge.
"You calling your sire a liar, childe?"

"Nope. A poncy git, maybe. But not a liar." Spike stood up to meet his maker, grinning
madly...until his knees gave out suddenly and he pitched forward. 'Shit...' he thought,
'haven't had enough blood today, and that earlier drain from Xander didn't help much.'
The taller vampire caught his childe quickly and placed him on the palate of furs. "You
have to eat, Spike," said Xander as he sat down beside him. Settling an unresisting childe
in his lap he drew back the neckline of his robes and brought Spike's face to the jugular.
He felt the blonde stiffen and Xander nodded his approval before he felt the twin pricks
of fangs in the skin followed by the drawing of blood. Spike fed eagerly at the wound,
with neither noticing when their positions had changed from sitting up to lying back on
the furs with Spike sprawled on top of Xander.

Xander meanwhile was feeling the rush that usually came of his childe feeding off him; a
sensation that was still new to him but one he never hoped to get used to. Arms wrapped
around the writhing creature pinning him to the palate while he moaned for the blonde to
stop. Any longer and he was going to have to throw Spike off before he was drained too
far to do it himself if needed. Amazingly, Spike conceded and the fangs drew away to be
replaced by a gently probing tongue that cleaned up the slowing flow of blood. Xander
lay back in a daze, his entire universe focused on that wonderful wet muscle that decided
to move up his neck, detour at his jaw, and met his lips with a kiss that shocked down his
spine to buck his hips up into Spike's from below. All too soon for Xander those
wonderfully soft lips pulled away and he looked up into deep indigo irises that peered
down with lust. "Sire?"

A finger traced along a sharp cheekbone, and Spike leaned towards the caress. "What do
you want, Will?" He heard from below. Rocking his hips into his sire's he tried to make
what he wanted blatantly obvious.

"You sure about that? Could be the blood talking." Oh Gods, don't let it be the blood
talking! Xander had lasted 120 years for a chance at this again, he didn't think he could
wait another night. Luckily Spike, being the stubborn one, took the control away from
Xander for a moment and smashed his mouth to the other vampire's as an answer. Once
again they found their positions changed with Spike looking up at his sire's face half-
shadowed by the lamp light. At that moment Spike could practically imagine they were
back in the guest room of his mother's house. It was almost as if the last century had been
a nightmare and the pair had been given another chance to get things right. And in a
round about way, they had been. Linking his hands behind his sire's head, Spike leaned
back into the furs, his smile mirroring the warmth of the candles.

"Yeah, James. I'm sure."