Trickster II: Janus' Shadow

Xander scooted back a bit, trying to avoid the broken spring on the old sofa sleeper as he watched the small television he kept in the outer apartment. Not that it was an apartment—more like a large closet with a refrigerator at one end. If he honestly had to live in a dump like this, he would set fire to it just for the pleasure of watching it burn.

Sitting in the flickering light of the television, Xander suddenly wondered what the hell he was doing. He… what? Loved? Desired? Lusted after? Felt possessive about Spike? Oh god, Xander let his head fall back against the couch and stared at the yellowing ceiling. Okay. He felt something for an evil creature, and did that make him evil? Xander knew he had evil in his heart and had since the hyena and the vampire, maybe even before that, but he couldn't avoid thinking that hanging out with the bleached evil was making him feel a little more evil than normal.

But hanging out with a vampire again, hunting, having a clan… not that he needed a clan. Nope, not the Xand man. He just needed friends, like Willow and Buffy, only ones that saw him as a fighter and who enjoyed the feeling of a sharp sword slicing through flesh and didn't complain about demon goo on shoes or go all weird when Xander laughed in the face of danger. He liked laughing in the face of danger.

Xander shot a glance toward the bathroom door as he shifted again and then really just wished Cordy would just show up because he was starting to get a headache. He wasn't thinky-boy, as evidenced by the fact that he had obviously started something he couldn't handle.

Unfortunately, Cordelia Chase didn't live by anyone's expectations or preferences, so he sat and stared at some bad science fiction movie, the plot of which seemed to be to get as many earth women out of their clothes as possible.

Xander had watched nearly an hour of women with spandex shirts that bounced with every step, and he still hadn't figured out any plot by the time a pounding at the door interrupted him. Sighing, he escaped the grip of the butt-poking couch and peered through the peep hole. In this neighborhood, you could never be too cautious, but only Cordy stood there with an expression that suggested she hadn't enjoyed the trip.

Pulling the door open, he plastered on his best smile. "Cordy!" he cheerfully welcomed her as he stepped back. He'd expected various Cordy-insults aimed at his pathetic, small apartment, but she just looked around and made a small disgusted sniff before getting to the point.

"So, where's the Bleached Menace?" Cordy demanded, a blue cooler over one arm and a small designer bag over the other. Trust Cordy to look like a million dollars even while living off a vamp who grew up when five dollars a week could make a man a nice living. Xander guessed that Cordy was probably in the middle of breaking Angel of that belief.

"Out," he answered shortly.

"Ah-huh. Right. You just let him go wandering around town?" She didn't bother hiding her disdain or her disbelief.

"He's chipped; he can't hurt anyone," Xander pointed out, working to control his frustration at her challenging tone of voice.

"Exactly, and you just let the helpless vampire go wandering around with the soldier boys out there hunting?" Cordy put the cooler on the tiny island that barely had enough room for one placemat and turned to glare at him with her hands on her hips.

"It's not like he's a prisoner," Xander snapped, and the minute he did, he regretted it as Cordy's eyes turned to stone. Xander crossed his arms over his chest and tried to ignore the rising discomfort. Okay, now he knew why Angel complained about her. Of course, he kinda already knew she had a nearly magical ability to make anyone she looked at like a bug actually feel like a bug, and considering she was a Hellmouth-raised princess, there just might be magic involved.

Xander dropped his gaze and suddenly he felt a familiar self-hate at the fact that he was backing down to Cordy because she was just a human, but then he was just a human, and Xander closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he tried to gather his quickly scattering thoughts.

"I don't care what you two have going on, but you'd better leave Angel out of it. Every time you call he spends the next week pounding some poor punching bag or some poor demon or in one memorable case, one poor wall. Of course then he gets guilty and buys me things for acting like an ass, but I can get him to do that without your help, thank you very much." Cordelia stopped, and Xander looked at her with an open mouth.

"Um, okay?" he stuttered an answer, not sure how to handle a Cordelia who sounded strangely protective of Angel. A nagging part of him resented a human's claim on a master vampire, but then he was sort of pot and kettlish on that score.

"So, where's Spike?" she asked again, the anger gone in a blink as she examined the room, which was strange since there really wasn't much to examine.

"He's not here. I don't have him shoved in the closet if that's what you're worried about," Xander said as he watched Cordy's eyes focus on the closet doors. Xander rolled his eyes and went to load the blood from the cooler into the small, dirty refrigerator with the motor that made a high-pitched whine when he kept the door open too long.

"Uh huh," Cordelia went over to the closet and slid open the doors. One stuck and she swore softly as she tried to wrestle it back onto the track. "So, where are you living these days?"

Xander nearly dropped the blood. "Hey, what you see is what you get," he answered after an awkward moment of juggling a squishy bag of blood while holding the refrigerator door open with his hip.

"Right. So, where's that comic book you raved about for days when Buffy touched it?"

"I don't know what you mean," Xander said as his heart started beating faster. The comic in question was hanging in an airtight display in his real living room along with several others he'd bought over the years.

"Considering that thing said 10 cents on the cover, I don't see why you got so cranky about Buffy tossing it, but I definitely remember your face turning a beautiful shade of white. I also remember that you used to have some surprisingly not disgusting clothing in your closet. This thing is full of flannel and geekwear." Cordelia waved a dismissive hand at the closet and then sat on the arm of the couch, which was actually the most comfortable part of the thing.

"I, um," Xander struggled to come up with an answer. "When did you see my closet?" Xander went for distraction, but from the amused look of disbelief, he did it poorly.

"Senior year, that day we all came over right before we blew up the school. I sure as hell wasn't checking out you, so I had to look at something," Cordelia shrugged. "But enough about you, Angel promised you were providing payment for this little side trip."

Xander finished stacking the blood and happily followed Cordelia onto the new topic. "Hey, not sure this is real, but I found it in one of the vampire lairs we raided last year. Xander opened a kitchen drawer and pulled out the red and gold bauble. He traded a good solid week on a translation of a family lineage for a demon that smelled like moldy bread to get the piece. Now he offered it to Cordelia. He'd been planning on offering a smaller blue bracelet, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and Cordy's sharp vision was making him pretty damn desperate.

"Oh, Xander," Cordelia breathed reverently as she stood up and flipped on the kitchen light to see the pendant better. "This is real ruby," she fingered the stone that hung from the gold chain, and Xander smiled at the expression of awe. Now if she just forgot the rest of the conversation, it would all be worth it.

"Hey, count on demon lairs to be full of the good stuff. Or is that dragon lairs that have the treasure?" Xander went to go sit on the couch, but he found himself in a tight hug. Before he had a chance to return the embrace, Cordelia had let him go and practically pushed him toward the couch.

"I should probably have it cleaned to make sure I don't get cooties," Cordelia sniffed.

"You know, as much as you abuse me, why didn't we ever get together?" Xander asked with a wink.

"Because I'm top dog, and I don't plan on sharing that spot with someone with equal parts bossiness and dorkitude," Cordelia answered in a voice so matter-of-fact that Xander had to gather his thoughts for a second.

"I'm hurt," he finally complained as she fastened the gold and ruby necklace so that the stone lay on her bare skin, winking at him in red flashes.

"Whatever. Just do me a favor and leave Angel out of this because he goes and does the whole brooding thing whenever you two talk."

"Hey, so not my fault."

"So don't care," Cordelia shot back with an exaggerated shrug and a small smile. "Just so don't call any more."

"Right, like I want to talk to Deadboy,"

"If you need to talk…" Cordelia's voice grew suddenly serious, and Xander saw a flash of the true Cordy, the one who stayed with Angel because she had just as much loyalty and selflessness in her as anyone he'd ever known. Someone who delighted in verbally torturing others as she hid that more compassionate side, and he could appreciate her flare for torture too.

"I'm okay, Cordy," he answered just as seriously.

"'Okay' might be a strong word for it. I'd say more like not a complete dork," Cordelia sniped back, mask firmly in place, and Xander smiled.

"A complete dork who just gave you jewelry, so I think I've bought myself some insult free time this evening."

"As if. You're just lucky I have some real work, other than playing go between for you and McBroody pants." Cordelia leaned forward and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before she turned around and headed for the door, waving her hand over her shoulder in a farewell.

Xander watched her breeze out of his apartment. Right. Time to deal with Spike. Chipped Spike. Not that he wanted Spike dechipped. Okay, maybe a little want in there. Xander sighed as he closed and locked the door. Spike needed Angel's blood, and he needed a brain transplant, but at least he could fix one problem.


Walking into the inner apartment, Xander avoided looking at the corner with the tied-up vampire as he focused on the west wall. His prized comics hung in sealed containers that protected them from dust or grease or inconsiderate slayers. The one with Robin crashing through a paper hoop to appear for the very first time had a place of honor on the top row with the first comic book to feature Cat Woman and the one with Superman joining Batman and the one where Spiderman had to fight the Chameleon.

"Give me your word that you won't do anything I wouldn't do," Xander said, still facing the wall.

"Seems like I'm not sure what that means," Spike's voice sounded calm, but Xander could imagine how the childe felt. He'd pledged himself to a sire who just might have lost his marbles. Then again, this should be familiar territory for Spike. Xander turned around and found himself mesmerized by the sight of that perfect body spread out in front of him, still tied to the bed by his wrists with his ankles wrapped in leather.

"Promise me that you won't do anything I might find morally of the bad. No killing nuns or eating babies."

Spike's head tilted to one side as he held his head up at an awkward angle that left him looking down the length of his body.

"Right then, those the only terms?"

Xander thought quickly. "No doing harm to anyone who doesn't, you know, completely deserve it. And at least try to avoid doing harm even when someone does deserve it," Xander amended himself. Spike stared at him silently. "And no doing stuff that could hurt someone even if the chip lets you do it, so no trying to make Buffy starve herself to death by calling her fat. In fact, no calling Buffy fat at all because she so isn't, but if she doesn't stop dieting… and I think I'm going to stop now." Xander felt his face heat as he realized he had just blown through all his cool points. But at least he wasn't the one tied up. Xander wandered across the middle of the room, biting his lower lip and considering the perfect body laid out before him.

"So, you want me to be some bloody boy scout?" Spike asked, scorn clear in his voice.

"No!" Xander instantly replied before the rest of his brain started complaining about Spike tone of voice.

"Then wot?" Spike's accent thickened and his face froze into a cold expression, one that others might call anger, but Xander thought probably held more fear.

Xander sighed as he tried to get this right. The words he spoke now meant too much for him to fuck this up. "Promise me that while you will still be snarky and bitchy and just as—" Xander struggled for a word, "as puerile as ever, you won't actually cause permanent or substantial harm to anyone if you can avoid it."

He looked into Spike's eyes as he reached the side of the bed. Reaching out, he trailed one finger up the captive leg, feeling the smooth, cool skin ripple in response. "Promise me that you won't make me sorry for getting that chip out for good. Promise me that you won't do something to confirm Giles' belief that I'm in total self-destructive mode here." Xander now focused on that hard cock as he allowed his fingers to brush the edge of the surrounding hair, his fingertips exploring the curve of a hip and the dip of a bellybutton as Spike hissed an unnecessary breath. "Promise me," Xander finished. He splayed his fingers out against Spike's strong thigh and looked into bright blue eyes.

Spike considered him for several minutes, and Xander knew that Spike knew that his words would matter.

"You askin' me ta go crawling around your mates?" he finally asked.

"No! Um, I'm thinking I don't want them to see you crawl. I don't intend on anyone seeing you crawl," Xander's fingers tightened until they created furrows in the flesh and he had to intentionally loosen his grip.

"So, if I have the chip out and some soldier boy is tryin' to take me?" Spike let his question trail off.

Taking a deep breath, Xander sat on the bed and stroked a patch of skin as he watched Spike struggle to not twist and whine in need. "I'm not big on the thinkiness. I've always been more on the act now and figure out how to cover my tracks later. Hell, even as a vampire I drove Nusa insane with the whole taking on a slayer by myself trick, which I managed to do over and over and over again despite skin-flaying whippings, and thinking was not really a big part of the package."

Xander remembered that part of his history with equal parts pride and self-loathing. He just really hoped that part was all imagination, the overcompensating of a Zeppo who had a slayer always telling him to go home despite the fact he had fought at Angel's side any number of times. He hoped the memory of killing five slayers was his own sick and twisted imagination and not chaos magic making the impossible possible.

"Anyway, I've decided I'm going to stop with the thinking and go with acting first, covering of ass later," Xander admitted.

"Right then. What the bloody hell does that mean?" Spike asked, but the tone carried more amusement than anything else. Well, maybe less amusement than frustration, but Xander was chalking that one up to the slow, tender stokes he now made up and down the shaft of Spike's cock, a tenderness more torture than any whip.

"Means that I would want you to kill as few soldiers as possible," Xander answered, "and no torture, definitely no torture," he amended himself after remembering Angel's story of Spike's last visit.

"Deal," Spike offered. "My word on it, and while I'm an evil, murderous bastard, I do keep my word."

"Oh yes, you will," Xander agreed as the magic made the air flare with a subtle heat before it shimmered and settled into Spike's skin.

"So, the only thing definitely off the menu is torture; torture's my job," Xander added as he swirled a thumb around the head of Spike's cock and then took his hand away altogether as Spike made an awkward attempt to thrust up.

"After all," Xander said with a smile, "I'm sire, and that makes this body mine," Xander pointed out as he ran a fingernail up the underside of that engorged cock. Spike slid into gameface and snarled. Xander only pulled back again, and this time aimed a snapping finger at the head, tweaking it hard enough to elicit a growl from Spike.

"Mine," Xander said cheerfully as he flicked the head of Spike's cock a second time. "Mine," Xander reached down and jerked a single hair out of Spike's balls. Spike hissed, snake-like and low. "Mine," Xander said as he trailed a tickling finger around the head of the cock so that frustration shone out of Spike like rays of sunshine.

"In fact, you're all mine, and I'm never letting you go again," Xander said as he yanked off his shirt and lay down next to the bound body. "You're my deadly pet, and you'll never escape me," Xander reached over and took a small brownish nipple in his teeth and nipped sharply before sucking.

Spike groaned, and his self-control snapped as he started twisting so that the metal frame of the bed creaked. Xander ignored the struggles and continued to alternate sharp nips that caused bucking desperation and sucking that led to a needier twisting motion.

"All mine, and I can do whatever I feel like with you," Xander pointed out. "I can leave you tied here forever and slam into you a dozen times a day until you're worn out and used up and lay here limp from pleasure and pain."

"No bloody way you can wear me out, mate," Spike snapped back, and Xander recognized the challenge. He laughed slowly and quietly, little more than a chuckle.

"Maybe I'll just fill you up then, stuff the world's largest dildo up your ass and seal it in so that every time you move you remember that your body is mine. Maybe I'll mark you so that every time you look at yourself you remember that I'm never going to let you off this invisible leash you're going to wear for the rest of your unlife." Xander dug a fingernail into one of the faint rune scars hard enough to make a crescent-shaped cut. Xander had a dozen more small tortures planned, but Spike's body stiffened and arched as he came all over his own stomach.

Xander looked up at Spike's face, both eyebrows raised in question and wishing he could figure out the one eyebrow trick.

"Don't bloody say it; it's been too damn long. Besides, it's not like you lasted either," Spike complained.

Xander didn't say anything, but he did laugh as he settled back down onto the bed, thinking that he really needed new sheets. Seriously needed new sheets. However, tomorrow would have to be soon enough.

"Plannin' on untying me?" Spike asked as he yanked the wrist shackles, making the chains rattle.

"Nope," Xander answered as he tucked a pillow between Spike's head and arm so that he could lay his head next to his childe's. Clapping twice, Xander made the apartment lights turn off as he hummed the tune of "Clap on, clap off."