Sweet Memories

Part 17:

The passage of days and nights had developed into a pattern for the tentative lovers. Work in the late evenings into early morning, then home to hang out for a while eating, watching movies, or reading. Going to bed around sunrise, and waking in the afternoon with a few hours to kill before heading to work again.

Neither minded the seemingly odd hours. Wil was more comfortable since he was able to be out and about at night, and Alex just enjoyed being with Wil. Plus, the neighborhood sported quiet a few all-night places as a concession to the mixed clientele, so getting groceries, renting videos, or performing any other errands wasn't a hardship for them.

And their Sundays off had been designated 'date night'. Last Sunday, they'd gone to a movie, choosing seats in the back row and holding hands through the picture. Wil had even pushed up the armrest between them so he could get that much closer to Alex. A few stolen kisses in the darkened theater had made the outing perfect.

Now another Sunday had come. They'd just finished breakfast and were relaxing on the sofa in what had become a familiar scenario. Alex was snuggled close to Wil as the vampire read aloud to him from whatever the book of the day was.

Alex watched Wil's face as he read, smiling. He'd managed to convince the blonde to purchase a pair of reading glasses by the simple expedient of dragging him to the display at Wal-Mart and waiting until he picked one out. The fact that seeing his boyfriend's wide blue eyes peeking up at him from behind the wire rims made him break out in a sweat as his groin tingled may have influenced said boyfriend's decision. Slightly.

Wil pushed his glasses back up on his nose as he read, then dropped the hand back down on Alex's head. Fingers played gently with the slightly curled locks of hair, mussing them deliciously. He could feel every breath that Alex took, the warm puffs of air drifting through the thin material of his shirt. It was...comforting.

A soft knocking at the door broke the mood, and Alex peeled himself away from Wil with a sigh. He walked over to the door, opening it. "Hey, Mellie!" he greeted the woman with a grin. "How's life?" He stepped back to allow her inside.

Mellie smiled back. "Oh, just peachy." She entered, pulling a young woman in behind her. "Hello, Wil," she chirped at the vampire who had risen to join the group. "Those spectacles make you look even cuter than usual."

Wil laughed. "I don't think you're the only one with that opinion, pet," he replied, nodding in Alex's direction.

"Oh boys, I just wanted you to meet someone." She gestured to her companion. "This is my daughter, Dana. Dana, Wil and Alex."

Everyone exchanged hellos, and the next few minutes were spent in pleasant conversation. Then Mellie cleared her throat, and the others quieted. "Boys, Dana here dabbles in magic, and I'm proud to say that she's quite exceptional at it."

Dana blushed. "Well, my blood has a lot to do with that. I'm 1/4 Kcsterk, and Kcsterki females tend to have a lot of talent for working magic. Mum's just one of the exceptions."

Mellie patted her hand. "Nonsense. You'd be just as good if you were a full-blooded human." She gave her daughter a quick hug, then turned her attention back to Alex and Wil. "Anyway, we were talking this morning when Dana came to visit, and she mentioned finding an old memory spell. I thought of you two right off, and when I explained what had happened with the Grun-thak demon, she offered to work the spell on you. If you want her to, that is."

The boys stared at their visitors blankly, mouths agape. Then Alex shook himself. "Um, would you excuse us?" At their nods, he tugged Wil into the kitchen. Biting his lip, he asked in a low voice, "You want to do this?"

Wil shrugged. "Dunno, pet. Don't like the thought of more magic, but...if it helps..."

"Yeah."

Wil plucked at the hem of his shirt. "Will you...?"

Alex waited a moment, but nothing else was forthcoming. "What is it?" he encouraged.

"I just...I..." Wil sighed, then asked softly, "Will we still be together? When we remember?"

Pulling the vampire into a fierce hug, Alex murmured in his ear, "I *like* you, Wil. A *lot*. Remembering...Before…it's not going to change how we are now. I won't *let* it!"

"Oh. Ok." Wil smiled and tilted his face up for a brief kiss, which Alex gave him gladly. "I say we go for it then."

"Damn right."

~~~~~~~~~~

Mellie accompanied her daughter on the quest for the supplies needed for the spell. Dana had agreed to perform it that evening, as neither Alex nor Wil wanted to waste any time once they'd decided to go for it.

It was nearing dusk when they finally had everything they needed, including a copy of the spell itself. It wasn't that things were difficult to find, but Dana was quite picky about the quality and freshness of each component. Eventually, though, even she was satisfied, and the two women set off on the walk back to the apartment complex.

They chatted amiably as they went, occasionally making a brief pause for a bit of window-shopping. And Mellie couldn't help but dash into a candy store that sported a large, chocolate castle in the window, stating that 'the boys are sure to be famished, and they do so love their sweets!'

Dana just laughed and waved her on, used to her mother's behavior when she found someone new to coddle. Of course, that didn't stop her from holding out her free hand for a piece of the fudge that Mellie had bought.

They were only a few blocks from their destination when Mellie froze in her tracks, clutching at Dana's arm to halt her as well.

Dana frowned. "What's wrong?" she asked, worried.

Mellie jerked her head toward the slight figure just up the street.

Confused, Dana watched as the young woman accosted each passerby, shoving a piece of paper in front of them and questioning them intently. It was apparent that she was growing more and more frustrated at each headshake she received in response. Something seemed familiar about her...

Dana's eyes widened. "Isn't that the--?"

"Yes! What could she be doing here?"

"Grilling random strangers, by the looks of things. Does she really think anyone around her will tell her *anything*?"

"Hush now," Mellie hissed out the side of her mouth. "Let me handle this." Then she shook herself and plastered on a beaming smile just as the Slayer made her way over to them.

"Hi." Buffy gave them a weary grin as she flipped a strand of hair out of her face. "I was looking for a friend of mine, have you seen him?" The paper appeared again, and Mellie took it, examining it carefully.

She cocked her head, wondering why Alex seemed so sad in the photograph. Raising her eyes, she peered earnestly at Buffy and answered, "Oh my, no, he doesn't seem familiar in the least. Is he a good friend of yours?" Not letting Buffy get a word in edgewise, she heaved a beleaguered sigh and continued. "Oh, it's such a shame when you lose track of friends like that. Then again, young people these days are always getting it into their heads to go gallivanting off to who knows where at the drop of a hat. Never a thought for anyone who might worry about them and wonder where they've gone to." She shook her head, making 'tsking' sounds. "Why, in my day, children were brought up right. None of this 'finding yourself' nonsense. No, they learned the importance of family. Now, it's all just 'me me me'!" Mellie shrugged. "Then again, that's just this old biddy's opinion, and I'm sure you haven't much care for that. Would you like a piece of fudge?"

Buffy had followed this rambling dialogue with a dazed look, nodding and shaking her head at what seemed appropriate intervals. Blankly, she accepted the proffered sweet, then looked down at her hand as if wondering where it came from. Blinking, she glanced back up. "Um, so...you haven't seen him then?"

"No dearie. He's quite a handsome fellow, though. Is he your beau?"

Buffy wrinkled her nose. "Ew, no! He just a friend. He...went missing a few weeks ago, and we've all been trying to find out what happened."

"Well, I'm terribly sorry that I couldn't be more helpful."

"That's ok, it's not your fault. Thanks anyway." Buffy took back the picture, gave them a wave, and went on her way.

Dana waited until the Slayer was out of earshot before she spoke. "What do you suppose she wanted with Alex?"

Mellie frowned, her forehead wrinkled. "I have no idea," she replied, "but it certainly can't be good. The Slayer's 'friend' just *happens* to be our Alex, whose boyfriend just *happens* to be a vampire, and both of whom just *happen* to have been injured in a way that made them conveniently forget anything they might haev known about the situation."

Dana gasped. "You don't suppose she had something to do with their injury, do you?"

"I don't know. But something isn't adding up, and I *can* tell you that she's going to have to go through a lot of people if she wants to get at either Alex or Wil. And even the Slayer might have a tough time tangling with Sophie!"

"Now *that* fight I'd like to see!" Dana giggled. She sobered quickly, though. "Are you going to tell Alex that the Slayer is looking for him?"

Mellie thought for a moment, then shook her head. "No, I don't want to worry either of them. I think we should do the spell first, the Slayer can be dealt with once the boys can remember exactly what happened."

"If you're sure," Dana replied doubtfully.

"Positive."

~~~~~~~~~~

"Total bust."

Willow slumped down in her chair at this news. "You sure you tried everywhere?"

Buffy nodded. "Hoofed it all over town, not even *one* person has seen him recently."

Both girls looked expectantly at the door as Riley entered. "Anything?" they asked in unison.

"Depends." He gave Buffy a quick kiss. "Drove around, didn't find any sign of his car. Then I got the idea to see if it had been impounded."

"And?"

He grinned. "Three days after he went missing, it was towed in. Had a bunch of flats, quite a few parking tickets, but was in decent shape otherwise." His face turned grim. "No idea where it was picked up, though. Seems they 'misplaced' the paperwork."

"So basically another dead end." Buffy kicked the wall, denting it noticeably.

"Well, I mean, at least we know he didn't leave town. Right?" Willow blinked up at them hopefully, clutching Tara's hand with her own.

"U-unless he took the bus, or train, or...something." Tara shrugged apologetically at her girlfriend. "Sorry," she whispered, wishing she could wipe away the desolate expression.

"It's not your fault," Willow whispered back, giving her a tearful smile. "It's just...what if something *bad* happened to him! He would never have left without saying *something* to me. I can't stand this not knowing!"

Just then, Giles returned, and he wearily tosses his jacket over the back of a chair.

Buffy perked up, almost bouncing. "Get anything out of the bleached menace? You didn't pay him, did you? It's so much easier on the bank account when you just beat the information out of him."

Giles removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. "Yes, well, I imagine it certainly would be more fun, but actually I did neither."

"What? You mean he just spilled? Why don't I believe that?"

"It's more bad news, isn't it?" Willow sighed resignedly. "I can take it. What'd he say?"

"Well, due to the fact that Spike's crypt was, shall we say, rather devoid of any vampire inhabitants, I'm afraid I was unable to retrieve any information for you at all."

"He wasn't there?" Buffy growled in frustration.

Giles shook his head. "It didn't even appear as if he'd been there any time recently. There were cobwebs and dust covering everything...more so than usual, that is."

"How typical. Wouldn't you just know he'd move and forget to leave his forwarding address?" Buffy rolled her eyes and snorted. "Well, good riddance. Who needs the chipped freak anyway?"

"Don't say that!" Willow cried out. "What if...what if he knows something and we can't ever find him? Or...what if *he* did something to Xander!"

Buffy's eyes narrowed. "Well now. That would put a whole new spin on things." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Ok, this thing has gotten way out of hand. We need help."

"What do you mean?" Tara asked quietly.

"We should hire a private investigator. One who can help us find Xander, and take care of Spike if it comes to that." Buffy grinned. "I think we should call Angel."

*****
Part 18:

"This isn't gonna hurt, is it?" Alex warily perused the transformed living room.

Dana frowned slightly, her brow wrinkling. "Not much. Well, not after the first few hours. And I'm sure that blood coming out of the ears is perfectly normal." She glanced up at Alex, who had inched his way behind the sofa and was staring at her in wide-eyed horror. She giggled.

Wil glared at her as he pried Alex's fingers off his shoulder. "That wasn't funny, pet."

"Oh, sure it was! Lighten up!" Dana rolled her eyes, then went back to her task of placing the candles in their proper positions.

Alex stuck his tongue out at her before jumping over the back of the sofa to land almost on top of Wil. "Save me!" he pleaded pathetically as he burrowed his head against the vampire's chest.

Wil snorted.

Alex blinked up at him through tearful eyes. "But I'm scared...comfort me!" His lower lip poked out as he pouted.

"Yeah? An' what kind of comfortin' are you lookin' for?" Wil pressed Alex close to him as he ran a thumb over the protruding lip.

Alex smiled, kissing the finger. "What kind do you think?" he asked flirtatiously.

With a growl, Wil tugged Alex's face up and proceeded to kiss the human breathless.

Mellie sighed. "Boys." When that got no response, she barked out more sharply, "Boys!"

They jumped, turning dazed eyes to her. Alex flushed and cleared his throat. "Yes?" His voice was husky with restrained passion.

Mellie shook her head fondly. "Plenty of opportunity for that later," she admonished good-naturedly. "Everything is set up here. It's time."

"Oh." Alex reluctantly pulled away from Wil, running a hand through his hair. "Right. Guess we should, uh, do...that."

Wil grabbed his hand. "We...we don't have t'do it, luv."

Alex shook his head. "No, I want to." He brushed Wil's cheek gently. "I wanna remember everything about you that I can."

Wil turned his face toward the caressing hand, giving it a soft kiss. "Let's do it, then."

Alex pulled him up, leading him over to the circle of tall white candles.

"I need you to sit in the center. Face each other and hold hands. Make sure to keep the brazier between you." Dana waited until they were in position, then nodded to her mother. Mellie flicked the light switch off, plunging the room into darkness.

Wil held tightly to Alex, and both turned to face the flicker of light that appeared.

Dana slowly lit each candle, until a ring of light surrounded the boys. Carefully, she stepped inside the circle and used a long match to light the contents of the brazier. Almost immediately, wisps of sweetly scented smoke began to curl up around the seated figures.

In a whispered tone, Dana began the chant.


"Mnemosyne, we beseech you.
These, your children, have need of your power.
Daughter of Heaven and Earth,
Child of Uranus and Gaea,
Bestow upon us your aid."


Reaching in the hand-sewn, silk pouch, Dana removed a mixture of herbs and petals, scattering them over first Wil, then Alex.


"As you gave birth to the Muses,
So do we ask your loins to grant rebirth to these two.
Gift them with your grace,
Bless them with your power,
Bring forth in them that which was sundered."


She parted their clasped hands, depositing a small handful of the mixture in them before closing them together once more.


"Heal the minds which were broken,
Restore the memories which were stolen.
Grant unto these supplicants your gift of Memory.
Renew in them the knowledge they have lost.
Make them whole once again."


Dana pulled a small vial of oil from her pocket, unstoppering it and dabbing a drop on each of the boy's foreheads.


"This we ask.
This we plea.
And as we ask,
So let it be."


The remaining oil was poured into the brazier, and a bright blue flame shot up. Alex and Wil both flinched back, but didn't let go of each other. A gasp escaped the vampire as all the candles were abruptly extinguished, and a brisk breeze swirled through the room.

Then, the wind ceased, and there was silence.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you sure?"

Buffy rolled her eyes as she spoke into the phone. "Angel, this is Spike we're talking about. How could he *not* have something to do with this?"

"Buffy, I--" Angel sighed. "May I speak with Giles?"

Buffy pouted, but handed the phone over to her watcher.

Giles handled the phone distastefully, obviously not wanting to speak with Angel. But for Xander's sake, he was willing to make the effort. "Yes?"

"Giles, could you just tell me what you know for certain? Without the speculation?"

Giles took a deep breath. "Well, it seems Xander simply disappeared several weeks ago. He left behind no note, only an empty basement, a distraught girlfriend, and indifferent parents. We've neither seen nor heard anything from him, although we do know his car was impounded. Also, it seems that Spike has gone missing as well, apparently around the same time. At least, the last day he was seen was when Anya discovered Xander had left the basement. However, we don't know for certain that the two disappearances are related."

Angel groaned. "But with Spike's history, you're assuming the worst."

"Quite."

There was a bit of muted conversation as Angel spoke with his associates, then came back onto the line. "Look, we don't have any cases going at the moment, so I can be there sometime tonight." A screech as heard in the background, and Angel amended his statement with a sigh. "*We'll* be there."

"Wonderful," Giles muttered, then thrust the phone back at Buffy.

"Angel? So, you're coming? Great, we'll fill you in on all the details when you arrive. Bye!" She hung up the phone and beamed at everyone. "This is great. We'll sic Angel on Spike, and have Xander back in no time. Who's up for a latte?"

~~~~~~~~~~

Alex and Wil sat on the couch, holding hands. They watched as Dana poured the bits of mixture they'd held into the silk bag, then sewed it shut.

"I don't feel any different," Alex complained. "And I still can't remember anything."

"Don't worry," Dana told him calmly. "It'll come back slowly. Otherwise, your brain would get too swamped with information and overload. But it *will* come back to you."

"Everything?"

Dana nodded. "Every last little detail. Hope there was nothing you'd repressed during your childhood." She grinned, handing over the pouch. "Now, tie this to your headboard. Keep it there until your memories are back to normal."

Wil took the proffered item. "So, how slow is slow? Are we talking months here?"

"Oh no! A few days, a week or two at the most. You'll be as good as new in no time."

Mellie finished putting everything away, and gave the boys a hug. "Now, we'll just be heading back to my place. You two get a good night's sleep and come visit tomorrow before you head to work. Let us know how it's going." Smiling, she hurried Dana out of the apartment.

Wil snuggled up against Alex. "You sure we did the right thing?"

"Yeah. We'll be ok. You and me...we belong together."

"You think?"

Alex kissed him. "Definitely."

"Hmmm." Wil stroked along Alex's chest. "So, think we should...go to bed early?"

Alex didn't even pause to think about it, he simply stood and led the way to the bedroom. The two of them undressed to their boxers. Wil tied the pouch to the head of the bed, then Alex shut off the lights. It was early for them to be sleeping, but it was past dark, and the day's excitement had tired them out.

They cuddled up together under the covers, exchanging long, lazy kisses. Hands that stroked along bare flesh soon slowed and stilled, and the boys fell into a deep slumber.

*****

Ander gritted his teeth in pain as he dragged himself upright. He looked up at the steep hill he'd managed to stumble down, knowing he wouldn't be able to make it back up. Not with his leg hurting like it did.

Almost fearfully, he examined the leg. He could tell it was bruised, and there was a liberal amount of blood visible, but he could only hope that the bone hadn't given. He remembered the last hunter who'd ruined his leg that way; the man had been reduced to relying on his mate to scrounge enough food for them. He hadn't lasted through the harsh winter, and the woman he'd left behind had promptly been joined with another unmated hunter.

Ander had no mate to provide him with even a cursory amount of care, and any hunter who was going to be a liability to the clan was expected to...remove himself. After all, who would want to be mated with a crippled man unable to provide for those in his care?

Grunting, he tried to lever himself up the hill, giving it up when the pain overwhelmed him. He fell back, panting harshly. He closed his eyes, shivering as the sun began to set and coldness descended.

Knowing that to fall prey to the sleep of cold was to invite eternal slumber, Ander struggled to gather together any nearby kindling. However, he gave a low cry of frustration when he discovered his flint pouch had vanished, lost in the fall that had injured his leg.

He huddled into a ball, hoping another hunter from his clan would find him soon.

A twig snapped, and Ander forced himself to wakefulness. He held his breath, listening closely, but was unable to detect any signs that one of the larger predators in the region had found him. Sill, he reached for his broken spear, taking hold of the sharp end.

There was another cracking of wood, then a man emerged from the underbrush, approaching warily. Ander bared his teeth, raising his bit of spear menacingly.

The man stopped, crouching low to the ground. He glanced around and, seeing no one else nearby and nothing to indicate that there even *was* anyone else around, he crept forward.

Ander snarled weakly. This man was unknown to him; not of his clan, and therefore a potential enemy. There was much competition between clans for food during this time of little rains and scarce game. It was even rumored that some clans had taken to eating their own dead.

The stranger came close, examining the pile of wood that would have been a fire. He peered closely at Ander, noting the immobile leg that was encrusted with blood. He cocked his head.

Ander's hand began to tremble as he held the spear, and his breath was coming harsher. He didn't think he could stay awake for much longer. It was so cold, and he was so tired...

There was a spark, and another, then a tiny flame appeared. The stranger bent over the new ember, blowing on it gently until it flared up and consumed the tinder, soon growing to a tiny, welcome blaze. He snuck another peek at Ander, then scooted closer. He touched his hand to his chest. "Illam," he said softly.

Ander jerked back, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. He stared at the fire, then back at the man...Illam. The man didn't appear to be a threat, and Ander knew he'd be unable to defend himself at the moment even if Illam should prove to be an enemy. He sighed. "Ander."

Illam flashed him a wide grin. He crawled over to Ander and, after pulling out a bladder of water, gently began to clean the wound on Ander's leg.

Ander watched in the flickering light, grateful that the injury proved to be small and not as serious as he'd feared. He grunted his thanks, inching his way closer to the small warmth that the fire provided.

Illam frowned as he watch Ander shiver. Swiftly, he unrolled the pack he'd carried in, shaking out a fur-lined skin. He draped it over Ander.

Ander fingered the soft skin, then looked back at Illam. He blinked, then lifted the edge. Another wide grin met this action, and Illam scooted up behind him, spooning against his back. A hand brushed his hair away from his ear, and a voice whispered, "Sleep."

Enclosed by the warmth of the skin and the other man, Ander slept.

*****

Alex sat up with a gasp, his arms coming up to gather around Wil, who had also started awake. They stared at each other incredulously, somehow knowing that they'd shared the same dream.

"What the hell was that?!"

*****
Part 19:

They gaped at each other wildly for a few seconds, then Alex closed his eyes briefly, struggling for control. "Ok, calm down. It was just a dream, right? Dreams are normal."

Wil scooted closer to him. "Yeah, but, the same one? At the same time? And what was with the jungle thing?"

"I don't think that was a jungle," Alex corrected with a grin. "Jungles are warmer than that."

"It was still weird," Wil retorted with a slight pout.

"It was a fluke. That's all. Let' just...go back to sleep."

"You sure?"

Alex pulled Wil to him, hugging the vampire close. He kissed the top of his head softly. "What else could it be?"

Wil sighed. "'Kay then." He yawned and let his eyes drift shut.

*****

Al tied his horse up to the hitching post outside the tavern, then walked down the dusty streets of the small town toward the mercantile. He was short on supplies, but flush with...newly appropriated wealth. He figured he could make a quick stop someplace where he most likely wouldn't be recognized, load up on the necessary goods, then hole up somewhere until things cooled down a bit.

He moved through the cluttered aisles of the shop, methodically picking out food, clothing and ammunition. Quickly, eyes kept downcast, he paid for his things, then strolled casually back outside. Al figured he could stop for a quick drink before heading out of town, and his mouth began to water at the thought of getting himself a few pints of decent whisky.

A commotion across the street momentarily drew his attention. It was just enough time for him to miss seeing the other person walking his direction. The young man, also focusing on the scene across the street, plowed right into him, sending Al's supplies tumbling to the dirt.

Al cursed under his breath as he bent to retrieve them.

"Oh dear, I'm terribly sorry. I didn't see you. Are you all right? Let me help with that." Slim, uncalloused hands began to scoop up Al's things, making a neat pile of them.

"Yeah, sure, no problem. I'm fine. Thanks." He buried his annoyance and looked up. His breath caught. Something...something about the earnest, blue-eyed boy tugged at his heart, sparking a pang of recognition in him. But he'd never met this youth before, he was certain of that. Irritated with himself now, he shook off the feeling. Grabbing back his things, he stood and started to walk briskly away.

"Sir? Um, Sir?"

Al stopped with a sigh, waiting for the young man to jog up to him. "Yeah?"

"You, um, you...dropped this as well." He held out a small leather pouch that clinked loudly as the coins inside shifted around.

"Oh. Thanks." Al juggled his armful of supplies until he could take the pouch, making sure to tuck it securely away. "I'm...rather surprised you returned it. Most wouldn't have."

"But that would be frightfully dishonest," the boy replied. A grin broke out on his face. "It wouldn't do for the mayor's son to be caught doing anything remotely unsavory," he told Al with a sparkle in his eyes.

"Ah." Al studied him for a moment, then made as if to continue on his way.

"Can I buy you a drink or something? To make up for running you down like that? Oh, I'm Willard, by the way."

Al sighed, then shrugged. "Sure, why not. And it's Al."

Willard smiled again and strolled next to Al as they headed for the saloon. "We don't get a lot of stranger coming through here," he told Al conversationally. "Still, the sheriff has been sending his deputies on extra patrols ever since that...incident up at Broken Ridge last week. Have you heard about that?"

Al bit back a groan. "I...may have," he responded, his jaw clenched.

"Oh, everyone's been talking about it," Willard continued excitedly. "They say it was an entire gang of outlaws, and they stole every last penny in the entire town! Why, they even--"

"Well, well. What have we here?"

Al froze at the sound of several guns being cocked. Very slowly, he turned around, groaning inwardly at the sight that met his eyes.

"Sheriff Creed!" Willard turned his cheerful grin on the foreboding man and his deputies. "Why, I was just mentioning to Al here that--" He broke off, eyes wide as he saw the guns leveled at his companion. "Sheriff Creed?"

"Back away, Willard. No need to concern yourself here."

Willard's eyes flickered between the lawmen and Al. "I-I don't understand..."

The sheriff dismissed him, glaring at Al. "So...Albert Wilcox. We meet again. I assume you remember me?"

Al glared back just as strongly, giving the man a tight nod. "Creed. Or the Angel of Death, as you were so fondly known among...my sort."

A predatory grin lit up Creed's face. "And I just *hate* it when scum like you try to avoid your proper fate."

Willard stood stunned, unable to move. "A-Albert Wilcox?" he breathed in horror. "But you...you...oh dear god..."

"Now, you just come along quietly, Wilcox, and we'll make this as painless as possible."

Al cocked his head. "You know, I'd *really* love to, but I just *hate* doing things the easy way." In a lightening move, he flung his armload at the sheriff, distracting him for the crucial second he needed to make his move. One hand went for his gun, drawing it smoothly, while the other reached out to drag Willard in front of him. He calmly pressed the barrel of the gun to Willard's head. "Now," he said evenly, "I do believe Willard here mentioned something about being the mayor's son? Well, I don't suppose the good mayor would take too kindly to having his child's brains splattered all over this street, now would he?"

Creed snarled in annoyance, and his own weapon wavered slightly.

Chuckling bitterly, Al began to back up, pulling his captive with him. He positioned himself with his back against the wall of the saloon so no one could sneak up behind him. "Why don't you have one of your deputies be a gentleman and fetch my horse for me?" His finger tightened on the trigger, warning Creed not to try anything stupid.

Reluctantly, Creed motioned for one of his men to go for the animal. Once it had been brought back, Al nudged Willard into taking the reigns.

"Now, I want all of you to walk very calmly into the saloon there and have yourselves a drink. Because if I see you coming after me, then..." he rubbed the gun down Willard’s neck.

Teeth gritted with fury, Creed nonetheless complied, walking stiffly around the building and leading his men inside.

Quickly, Al holstered his gun and tossed the boy up into the saddle. He swung up behind him and dug his spurs into the horse's flanks. "Now, you behave yourself, and everything will turn our ok for you," Al murmured in Willard's ear as they raced out of town.

"Damn it." Al glared half-heartedly at his horse. The poor animal was limping pitifully, having picked up a stone that wedged itself into the fleshy part of a hoof. There was no way the nag would be able to carry the both of them any further, even if he could manage to pry the offending object out.

Eyes narrowed, Al whirled around, pulling his gun and cocking it. "I wouldn’t do that," he warned.

Willard halted, one foot still in the air from his attempt to make an escape.

"Get over here." He tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for the boy to do as he was told.

Scowling, Willard trudged back toward his captor. "What?" he muttered sullenly.

Al unbuckled the saddlebags, tossing them toward him. He snorted in amusement as Willard staggered under their weight. "We have a bit of walking to do," he informed the boy. "Best get started." He motioned for Willard to start moving, following him with weapon still drawn.

It was only a couple of hours before they came upon a small, rundown shack. Although he didn't like having to stop, he'd started to form blisters that he knew would need to be taken care of. Besides, the boy looked ready to keel over if he didn't get a rest.

Al ushered Willard into the welcome shade of the building, Almost immediately, Willard dropped the saddlebags with a groan. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the floor. Al eyed his unmoving form for a moment, then sat and removed his boots. He rummaged through the bags, retrieving some ointment and bandages, which he used to doctor his blisters. Boots on once more, he dug out his canteen and took a deep swallow of the warm water inside. He again glanced at Willard, who was sprawled out on the floor, panting. He chuckled.

With a groan, Willard rolled over and sat up, grunting painfully. "It's not funny," he rasped out.

Al rolled his eyes. Wordlessly, he offered his canteen to the boy, who took it and drank, a look of bliss covering his face. Without asking, he tugged off Willard’s boots, causing the young man to start in surprise.

"What--?"

Ignoring any protests, Al slathered more of the ointment on the raw, blistered skin of Willard's heels.

Willard watched as Al sealed stored the container of medicine. "Why did you do that?" he questioned.

"Why not? Feels better now, don't it?"

Willard's face twisted into a grimace of anger and hurt. "Why would you care? You're...you're just a thief and a murderer! Everyone in the territory has heard about the things you've done, Albert Wilcox! And you kidnapped me, and dragged me halfway to the next county, and now I'm supposed to be *grateful* to you?"

Al glared. He snatched his canteen back and, while putting it away, removed a length of rope from his bags.

Willard gasped and tried to stand, but his tired muscles protested, and he crumpled again. He whimpered as he was callously manhandled against the wall, his hands and feet bound securely.

Satisfied, Al reclined a few feet away. He saw the boy's mouth open again, and spoke first. "One more word, and I'll cut your tongue out." He ignored the twinge of conscience that informed him he'd do no such thing.

Not doubting the outlaw would do as he threatened, Willard shut his mouth with an audible click. Glowering at the smirking man, he shifted awkwardly, trying to find a reasonably comfortable position.

Al tuned out the soft rustling, falling into a light doze.

It wasn't much later when his eyes snapped open and he bolted upright. "Shit." He crawled over to Willard, covering the boy's mouth with his hand. He listened with growing dread to the noises outside.

"We know you're in there, Wilcox!" Creed's voice bellowed. "Where's the boy?"

Willard bit down on Al's hand, managing to free his mouth long enough to yell out a quickly smothered cry for help.

"Give it up, Wilcox! There's only one way out of that building, and we're here waiting for you!"

Al cursed as he realized that Creed was right. He hadn't even checked for another exit, and that oversight was about to cost him. He let go of Willard and crept to the door, opening it a crack.

He ducked, and the bullet that had been fired splintered the wood just inches above his head. Taking a chance, Al returned fire, but his gun was quickly emptied of rounds. There was a lull in the gunshots from outside, and Creed spoke up again.

"You're out of ammo, aren't you? We found the stuff you bought and left behind. A man like you ought to know better than that." His voice was thick with amusement. "You just come out of there *real* slowly, and we can settle this without any bloodshed."

Mentally, Al weighed his chances of getting out of this encounter alive. But he knew Creed; after all, there was a reason the man had been given the nickname 'Angel of Death'. Besides, he *was* wanted 'Dead or Alive', and Creed would be able to collect the bounty either way.

Things didn't look too bright for him.

He sighed heavily. Well, no one had ever said this was an easy way to make a living. He did have a hostage to use for leverage, though, so perhaps all wasn't lost quite yet.

Of course, with his luck, Creed wouldn't care and would simply shoot the boy himself, then blame the murder on him. Actually, that was a real possibility, especially since there were no witnesses other than Creed's posse of 'deputies'.

He glanced over at the trembling boy huddled in the corner of the small shack. Something inside him twisted at the thought of him dying. "Aw, fuck it," he muttered, then crossed the room.

Willard cringed and squeezed his eyes shut when Al pulled a knife out. He prayed silently, knowing he was about to die. Then he felt a tugging at his wrists, and peeled his eyes open again.

Al quickly cut through the ropes that bound Willard, and the boy stared at him in complete shock.

"A-are you going to...to k-kill me?"

Al snorted. "Nah kid. It'd be a crime in itself to mess up a pretty face like yours. Besides, I may be a murderer, but I ain't never killed children. That's more Creed's style than mine."

Willard scooted himself farther away from Al, flushing with anger. "I'm not a child!" he snapped.

"No," Al mused, "I don't suppose you are." He shook his head. Quickly, he checked his weapon again, hoping insanely that more bullets had miraculously appeared in the chamber. No such luck, though. He eyed the door.

"W-what are you going to do then?" Willard asked timidly, confused by this bewildering reversal of behavior.

Al shrugged. "Go out there and make the best of it." He grinned crookedly. "It's what I do."

Willard flicked a glance toward the door, knowing that outside waited several of the best sharpshooters in the county. "If you go out there, you'll die," he whispered, wondering why that notion upset him.

Again Al shrugged. "Everyone dies sooner or later. Nothing a man can do if his number's up." He steeled himself. "Well, guess this is goodbye, then." He tipped his hat at the boy.

"A-Al?" Willard timidly crept across the floor toward him.

"Yeah?"

"I...I don't think you're a bad sort. Not really."

Hardly knowing what came over himself, Al knelt in front of Willard. He gently cupped a soft cheek, inhaling sharply as long eyelashes fluttered against his fingers. "You have yourself a good life, kid," he said gruffly. Before he could reconsider, he pulled Willard to him and pressed a fierce, passionate kiss to his lips, tongue darting briefly inside as the boy's lush mouth opened in astonishment. Then, he stood abruptly, turning his back on the wide-eyed boy and striding out the door.

Willard sat, stunned, his lips tingling. His breath came in whimpering little pants, and he raised a hand to touch lips that felt hot and swollen.

The sound of multiple gunshots snapped him from his reverie and, with an anguished cry, he jumped up and stumbled from the building.

It was quiet now, and clouds of dust were settling in the stillness. Willard let out a soft cry when he spotted the bloody, shot-riddled body on the ground. He jumped as a hand settled on his shoulder.

"You all right?"

Willard shook Creed's hand off him, and he stepped numbly to where Al lay. He dropped to his knees, startled to hear a gurgling breath come from Al. "Al?"

Al's eyes flickered open briefly, and he offered up a tortured smile. Gasping out the words, he spoke haltingly, "You make...a...much...p-prettier..." He coughed up a lungful of blood, then continued, "A-Angel of...Death that C-Creed...ever did." A shaking hand rose and ghosted lightly over Willard's lips, then fell limply back to the ground. Al gave one last, shuddering breath.

Willard felt the tears well up in his eyes. "Al?" he whispered quietly. He sniffled when he got no reply, then gasped as something wrenched inside him. It felt like his very heart had been ripped out. Without knowing why, Willard began to weep. "Al..."l woke, a horrified scream stuck in his throat. He frantically fumbled for the light, then rolled over to face an equally horrified Alex. "Oh god," he whimpered, running his hands desperately over Alex, searching for any trace of injury.

"I'm ok, I'm ok," Alex panted.

Wil gave a sob of relief and pressed his face to Alex's chest. "You were...god, you were..."

"Shhh, I know. It's over now." He clutched the Wil to him, seriously rattled but still trying to offer comfort to his lover.

"Something's wrong, Alex. Something's really, *really* wrong. An' I don't like it!" He pulled away from Alex, glaring at him fiercely. "And if you *ever* do something that bloody stupid, I’ll damned well kill you myself!"

"I won't leave you, Wil. I *promise*."

"Yeah. Well, you better not." He sniffled. "What are we gonna do, luv? What...what's happening to us?"

"It's *got* to have something to so with that spell." Alex ran his hands through his hair nervously, then sighed. "That or we're going crazy." He clambered out of bed, tugging Wil after him. "C'mon, we're going to see Mellie and Dana *now*."

*****