Tainted Returns

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Part Five
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Xander closed his eyes, reveling in the utter freedom of movement. Part of him wanted to head straight to Giles' and look up the effects of this type of demon. Fortunately, it was a very small part of him, because he'd forgotten to ask what kind of demon it was. He could figure it out later. What he knew now was enough for him -- mostly.

He wasn't possessed again. It wasn't the hyena spirit come back. He vividly remembered how that had felt. Like when he'd been the soldier; he'd been along for the ride, but kinda separate, as though he were two different people. This was different. It was *him* doing and feeling this. It was *him*, Xander Harris, moving like an athlete.

Spike had been right about the blood letting him bypass his inhibitions, his 'morals', but that wasn't *all* it did. Something no one else -- well, possibly Giles -- knew, and that *he* had ignored, was that after each possession he'd changed. The hyena had left behind instincts and desires that he'd never acted upon, that he had, in fact, buried so deeply that he forgot about them most of the time. The soldier left behind the memories of his training, and even some knowledge.

That, he'd let the others see for a while, but when nothing changed, he'd slowly allowed them to forget. He'd acted like it was all fading. He'd gone back to being what they needed him to be -- the joker, the one who kept everyone's spirits up, the one who made sure nothing got too heavy to handle. He did it with a joke, using morbid, gallows humor that everyone rolled their eyes at, chuckled, and tackled the demon of the week that could literally tear them limb from limb -- and *win*.

He was also their precious glimpse into normal. He was the single one of them that actually had a chance at a completely normal life -- if he were to take it. He was their ever present picture of what, exactly, they stayed fighting for. Those were his roles with the Scoobies. They knew it, and he knew it. And as much as it sometimes hurt being that person, it was an important part to play. Eventually, habit became truth, and all his skills and abilities had surrendered to the Zeppo.

For the moment, he was freed from all that, and it was *glorious*. He'd been completely honest when he'd thanked Spike for it. It wasn't something he'd have given -- allowed -- himself. Even in his current state, he knew that. The blood hadn't taken his intelligence. He laughed. No, just his ability to care about right and wrong.

A scent in the light breeze caught his instant attention, and he dropped into a crouch. Nostrils flaring, he inhaled deeply, savoring the fresh mouth watering odor. He'd found what he was hunting for. Grinning, he rose gracefully to his full height, heading toward the source at a trot.

When he neared, he slowed, moving carefully now. Not a sound was made as he picked his way through the trees, not a leaf rustled, not a stick cracked beneath his feet. The hyena instincts may not have been all that great at stealth, but the soldier's were.

**There!** Dropping down, he waited, the hyena urging him to charge ahead and *take*, the soldier urging patience, urging him to wait until the time was right. He followed the soldier's advice, waiting, forcing himself not to fidget restlessly.

He watched, eyes avid as the yearling ate, apparently oblivious to its imminent mortal danger. It worked its way ever closer to the waiting man. Xander swallowed as the deer stopped *just* short of the ideal ambush spot to nibble on the leaves of a newly sprouted sapling. His mouth watered.

He remembered well the feeling and taste as he and his pack had slaughtered and ate the school's mascot. He remembered, too, the feelings of disgust after the hyena spirit had been banished. He was sure he'd have to go through that again, but right now he didn't care. That was tomorrow, or the next day. Tomorrow wasn't important to him.

His heart pounding in his chest as the yearling took that precious extra few steps, Xander leapt. He crowed, howling with glee as he landed squarely on his prey's back. Xander's feral laughter rang out as the animal fought for its life, twisting and bucking wildly. Locking his arms around the animal's neck, and clamping his knees tightly to its heaving sides, he held on for all he was worth.

Finally, his chance came; the yearling, mouth frothing from exertion, stumbled, and Xander's weight drove it to its knees. Never loosening his grip, Xander threw himself to the side, rolling with the animal. Twisting deftly as it hit the ground, Xander clamped his blunt teeth over the deer's throat. He didn't break the skin, merely held on until the animal lost consciousness.

Hyena, soldier, Xander, all crowed as the life beneath him stilled into blissfully unaware sleep; merging, joining, becoming one cohesive whole.

Now, all he needed was a pack, teammates. Xander grinned. A mate. He was working on that.

Energized with renewed purpose, Xander leapt to his feet, hefting the unconscious animal over his shoulder. With one last triumphant glance at the scene of his victory, Xander headed back to Spike.

The return trip took him longer, weighted down as he was, and what with the necessity to hide from the few souls brave -- or stupid -- enough to be out this late at night, but eventually the crypt came into sight. He grinned again, his mind whirling with ideas, thoughts, and nebulous plans. He had a vampire to seduce, and he now knew he had the way to do it.

Of course, he hadn't forgotten the fact that the vampire in question still needed to be punished, but that could wait. It would wait until that being was *his*, well and truly his. Then, and only then, would he exact his punishment for Spike's crimes. That he understood completely what had driven the vampire, did not one single thing to change the fact that Spike had overstepped his bounds in attacking someone Xander held dear, someone Xander chose to protect.

The moment he entered the dark crypt, Xander knew something had changed. He paused, scanning the room, scenting the air, trying to figure out what it was. It didn't take him long, and he grinned when he realized what it was. Spike was trying to escape -- and hadn't yet made it. It seemed he'd been close, the air was permeated with the sweet scent of the vampire's fevered anticipation. Clinging to that, was the lingering odor of the flash of panic that Spike *had* to have felt in that instant he'd heard Xander's return.

He'd ignore the transgression for now. It would be added to the ones the vampire would pay for later. He looked forward to it.

Striding in, Xander frowned, wondering how he'd managed to bury his enhanced senses. Until tonight, he hadn't realized he actually still had them. **Yay for the power of denial,** he thought sarcastically. He hoped that this time around, not all of his potential would get buried. He *liked* feeling this way. He *liked* moving with grace instead of awkwardness. He *really* liked being in control.

When the blood wore off, he hoped with every fiber of his soul that it wouldn't all get hidden under the weight of guilt. With that thought in mind, he told himself not to do *anything* so bad that his 'normal' self would feel obligated to overcompensate. Maybe if he could prove he wouldn't do anything *too* drastic while completely uninhibited, maybe normal Xander would get a clue.

He shook his head, chuckling as he strode into the room that housed Spike, then sighed. It was a nice *thought* anyway. Normal Xander couldn't even loosen up enough to admit that he liked guys the same way he liked girls. He certainly couldn't admit that Spike, in particular, drove him to distraction. What he was doing on that score alone would be enough to send Normal Xander into a tizzy of denial so strong, Free Xander wouldn't see the light of day -- or the moon -- for *years* to come.

Spike's eyes were locked on him, following his every move as he stalked slowly toward the bed. He could feel the weight of that intense gaze, though he didn't bother looking at the vampire as he closed the distance between them. Dropping the yearling on the floor, Xander turned away, crossing toward the chest at the foot of the bed.

Opening it, he found what he'd hoped would be stored there. Grinning, he popped back up, prize in hand.

"Bloody hell!"

He grinned at Spike's predictable response to the new set of chains he held. "You didn't really think that I wouldn't realize you'd be able to work yourself free did you?"

"I'd sure as hell *hoped*!" Spike muttered, then snapped his head up, eyes blazing angrily. "If I'd been at full strength, I'd have been out of here *long* before you got back."

Xr nor nodded knowingly. "The chains are strong enough, but that bed, sturdy bed that it is, isn't exactly made to withstand a vampire's strength."

"You knew!" Spike accused petulantly.

Again Xander nodded, stepping forward.

Spike shifted instantly, his hidden hands coming back into view as he renewed his frantic efforts to free at least one hand before Xander reached him.

Xander stopped, cocked his head, and waited.

It didn't take long to get a response. Spike stilled when he realized Xander was just standing there staring at him.

"What are you looking at?"

"You."

Spike's eyebrow cocked upward in surprise, obviously unsure what say in response.

"Do you really think you're going to get free before I can get these on you?"

"Got to try, don't I?" Spike retorted, resuming his efforts.

"Why?"

"Huh?" Spike responded, once more stopping to stare at him. "What do you mean 'why'?"

"Why waste the energy doing something you know won't change anything?" he asked, honestly curious.


TBC


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