Shadows across the heart

Chapter 7

“Would someone please take this wretched creature off my hands…?” came a long-suffering voice.

Giles stiffened, a quivering tension running through him. It seemed that he was seeing everything through some sort of red glaze. Distantly aware of Buffy nearly vibrating at his side. An indescribable expression flittering across her fine-boned face.

“You…” he breathed, slowly turning to face the man. And his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. A sick feeling of being helpless, powerless coming over him, but it was overshadowed by intense, virulent rage.

Ethan gazed at his erstwhile friend. There was an almost insuffer exp expression on his thin, careworn face. He stiffened his knees, feeling an alarming tendency in his limbs to tremble in fear. Despite the blank look on Rupert’s face, Ethan felt as if nothing had changed. He could still read his old friend like a well-worn book.

The old boy was in a right tearing fit, he noted uneasily. It wasn’t that difficult to know WHO Rupert was so flaming mad at. And silently Ethan cursed a blue streak. Whether he was more angry at the Guardians or himself, he didn’t quite know yet. But he was very much leaning towards those bloody Guardians. They were the ones that ‘persuaded’ him to step into this den of a savage creatures.

And he certainly wasn’t talking about the Shadow Queen and her minions. They were mildly threatening compared to what Rupert, much less Buffy, would do to him if they ever got their hands around his neck.

Oh, dearie me, look they’re free, he thought with bitter sarcasm. This will be interesting, he added to his internal comments.

He let go of the human aspect of the blonde vampire and wisely took a step back. Then Ethan took a couple more just to be on the safe side, all the while searching for a convenient solid wall to place between him and the enraged duo.

Two seconds later Buffy charged. Her face frightening in its total, near mindless fury.
“You fuckin’ BASTARD!” she screamed, swiftly closing the distance between them. All the things she heard him do to Dawn, the sickening sounds of her sister having sex with that…that….pedophile. All she could think, all she could feel was the desire to destroy him. Wipe his smug, smirky face from the face of this earth. And if it violated her being a Slayer, she didn’t give a damn. Let them find another girl. She was through!

Every time she heard them, it made her rattle the bars of her cage even more, struggling to get out. To protect her baby sister. Her rage knew no bounds during those moments.

She had her priorities. Escape, kill Ethan, then deal with the things that were threatening her territory.

So caught in her rage, she was unaware of Giles racing at her side. There was an expression of deadly fury on his face as well. Sounds of his shadowed self having sex with Ethan, stirred in him a strong desire to pound his former friend’s face into the ground for the affront. Each time he heard them having sex, WITH HIS BODY NO LESS, he raged and roared in his imprisonment. All too aware of the creature’s bubbling amusement yet unable to stop himself from frothing at the mouth.

Xtchaly materialized in a cloud of blue smoke, behind Ethan and spread his wings. His mouth barred in a snarl of undeniable menace at the two humans. Inch long claws slid neatly from the tips of his fingers, silent death in each thick, silver claw. No longer the sensuous, beautiful creature of the night, he was now a creature of death.

Cold and sharp.

Deadly.

Now while this was usually enough to check some demons and most humans, to his surprise, neither onrushing humans looked terribly impressed.

Blinking, he closed his wings about Ethan and vanished. Only to reappear, in a swirl of smoke, some distance away.

“STOP…!” Lakti yelled frantically when Buffy and Giles slid to a halt. They seemed to turn on a dime and charged in that new direction. They were like two hunting dogs, locked on a scent. Unswerving in their determination to run their prey to the ground.

Lexi threw a barrier between Ethan and his, soon to be dead, attackers. Xtchaly really had a problem when someone threatened one of his lovers.

Buffy and Giles hit the barrier and bounced backwards, falling on their butts. Ka sighed and gestured, opening a portal for Angel to take Xander and the rest of his people home.

Giving the woman a grateful look, Angel carefully picked up his charge and jerking his head, urged his people home.

Cordy halfway wanted to stay, but at the glare Angel sent her she heaved an impatient sigh and departed.

Buffy got up slowly, her eyes hard and calculating. With a determined expression she began punching the barrier, her expression smoothing out, becoming calm and peaceful. Either the barrier was going to give or her hands. If her hands, then she would use her feet. But one way or another Ethan had to die.

Ethan looked at the girl, then Rupert with dismay and shuddered. He really hoped the girl’s hands broke before the barrier. Though he had a sinking feeling that wouldn’t quite stop her. The only thing that would stop her would be her dead. He thought for a few seconds and perked up. On reflection, he didn’t have that big of a problem with the girl dying.

“Mr. Giles, please control your Slayer,” Lakti said sternly. His expression dark and foreboding he added coolly, “Or I will.”

Giles gave him a cold look, his eyes bearing a hellish, icy fury. “Be my guest…” he snarled with a tight smile.

Buffy ignored the byplay. Her only interest was getting to Ethan. Her plan was really quite simple…barrier goes down, Ethan dies. Simple, wasn’t it? None of those pesky little details that usually weighed her down.

Ethan’s brows drew down, surprise in his eyes. He knew his old friend would be a trifle…upset, but this? He stepped away from Xtchaly’s protective embrace and move forward. “Rupert, think for a moment…!” he said sharply, his eyes dark and withdrawn. “Do you honestly think I would molest you in such a fashion?”

Giles gave him a speaking look. Ethan flushed, but lifted his chin and waved a hand dismissively. “That was only that one time,” he said insistently. “Besides, you got your jollies as well!”

He paused, eyeing his former lover. There was a look of profound regret in his eyes. “But do you honestly believe me capable of rape?” he asked quietly.

Giles hesitated, reason raising its head. Then he shook his head sharply and looked at the dark-haired male coldly. “Once upon a time, I would not have believed Willow capable of doing what she did.”

“That wasn’t Willow…just like you were not you,” Ethan replied steadily, his attention on Giles. They both ignored the furious Slayer steadily punching her fists bloody. Splotches of blood stood in stark evidence of her determination to reach the Chaos mage.

“You’re Chaos,” Giles responded, although there was a note of uncertainty in his voice.

Ethan smiled without humor, his head cocking to the side. There was a look of dark mockery on his face, a hint of pain in his shadowed eyes. “In all these years, you never ONCE asked me what manner of Chaos I followed.”

The other blinked, a startled expression on his face. He recovered swiftly. “Chaos is chaos. Unpredictable and unruly. You delight in throwing things into confusion and inspiring terror,” he said firmly, his face hardening. “Like Elyghon and that Halloween easily comes to mind. Or was it my imagination?” he asked acidly.

Ethan’s head cocked to the side. He smiled coldly. “Had things progressed in the manner it was supposed to go, Elyghon would never have bedeviled you and yours. I didn’t know it at the time, but something was already affecting my spells. It only got worse when I arrived in Sunnydale. In order to remove Elyghon, I simply needed to be in the general proximity of you. It was never supposed to happen that way. I suspect that was the reason why Willow’s spells failed to work so often. The Shadows, in the form of Rack, were already operating in Sunnydale. Affecting every witch, as well as every major and minor spell.”

“And the Halloween spell? Perfectly harmless…only a tiny bit of mischief was intended, nothing to get alarmed about. Certainly not quite on the scope that truly happened that night, old boy. It was then that I became…concerned. My spell was perfect, so the travesty that took place should NOT have taken place. I simply assumed it was because of some magical fluke due to the closeness of the Hellmouth. I had already begun the preparation to free us all from Elyghon, and with much of my power committed to this spell, I had no choice but to move forward with my plans. But with sufficient precautions, I thought it would be relatively safe. I…I had no idea that just how truly awful things would become,” Ethan finished, his face dark with the memories of that dreadful evening. He tried frantically to fix matters, only to see all his well-intentioned efforts blow up in his fac.

Lexi took up the tale. “After that, Ethan sought us out with his concerns, fearing some great catastrophic event about to take place. Due to the nature of his magic, he at last sensed some disturbance warping the flow of magic. However, we are not so easily found. It took him two years to track me down,” she said without a smile. Her face was dark and grave with the seriousness of her words.

“Buffy…” Giles said quietly, touching his Slayer’s shoulder, and staying her next blow.

“Continue,” he said grimly, giving them his attention.

Lexi nodded. “Unfortunately, we also were investigating the troubling ripples in our world and found it time-consuming to pinpoint the exact source. It was much like trying to locate a specific grain of sand on a beach. When Ethan came to us, we at last had a direction so we focused all our attention on Sunnydale. We discovered events had moved faster than we thought. To our dismay the Shadow Queen had already inserted one of hers into the town. At first we intended to destroy her agent, but then we thought to cut off the head of the snake. So we waited. Watching to see who the Shadow Queen would choose as her representative. When we saw Amy Madison frequenting Rack’s establishment, we thought that she was the one. And while we moved to destroy her, the Shadow Queen slipped past us and her first lieutenant took over Willow.”

“I was sent into Sunnydale to keep an eye on what was going on, so that the Queen would not become ‘spooked’ and jump prematurely, throwing this world into an age of blood and war,” Ethan said quietly. His eyes steady and calm as he stared at his one-time friend.

“Did you think you were the only one to turn aside from the path of Darkness and Chaos, my friend? I had my fill that night Elyghon killed our friend. However, unlike you the Darkness still beckoned me. But through my struggles, I found that there were many shades to Darkness, just as there are different forms of Chaos to serve. Chaos is not all about destruction and random violence. It’s also about change and evolving. I serve Neutral Chaos and struggle daily not to tread on the path of Evil. I can’t serve the Light; it is too bright for me to bear. But in my own small, way, I help maintain it’s light. All those like me, do so with joy in our hearts.”

“If you weren’t…molesting me then why did I hear you doing that very same thing?” Giles retorted sharply, his eyes narrowed and angry.

Ethan smiled wryly. “It was the only thing I could think of to keep yours and Buffy’s spirits alive. Combined, you two are a formidable match. So it was their plan to immediately extinguish your souls, leaving the Shadows in sole possession of your bodies. But your anger, it was what kept you initially alive. They enjoyed feeling the intense surges of rage that gripped you. But I think you both had begun to despair, and so once again they were going to kill you. So I came up with the plan to fake having sex with you and Dawn. I knew that would send you both into tizzies.”

He looked at both the shocked faces. “And I was right…” he murmured dryly.

“You never touched Dawn…?” Buffy blinked, stepping back in stunned surprise. “This was all just…just…fakery?! You were actually helping us…” she nearly squeaked in amazement.

Dawn stumbled to her feet, her eyes narrowing in disgust at the conversation. She scowled horribly at her sister. “Ewww, as if…! God, Buffy you are so gross!” She made a gagging noise. “I heard them talking and laughing, I mean, the OTHER Buffy and Giles,” she stammered. “They were cracking up about how pissed off you and Giles were. Usually they had their performances in the kitchen or the living room.”

She turned to Giles, her expression utterly serious. “I like you…I really do, so when I burn down our house, me and Buff are coming to stay with you.” Dawn looked at Buffy, her face stern. “Don’t try to stop me, I’m serious about it. You would not BELIEVE some of the things they talked about in the living room and the kitchen. I can’t even THINK about those two rooms without wanting to hurl!”

Lexi cautiously released the barrier.

Buffy looked at Ethan with unsure eyes, halfway wanting to believe her baby sister was still innocent and halfway wanting to knock a hole in Ethan.

“Yo…you…didn’t touch my sister? It was all pretend?”

Ethan shook his head. “Dear girl, my tastes most definitely do not run to females,” he said dryly. “And most assuredly, not to prepubescent females at that!”

“oh,” she mumbled. Then catching his meaning Buffy eyes rounded. “OH…!” she didn’t dare look at her Watcher.

Spike, now released from his imprisonment growled savagely. He sprang for his humanself, laying a brutal fist across the recovering mortal’s jaw, willing to accept the agony just to be able to hit the idiot. He was surprised to find his head didn’t explode with pain. Exhilarated by that he pounded on his human self.

“I heard what ya said about me Xander. Ya bloody poufter, ya blind bum boy! Think I don’t know what yer a-hankerin’ for?! I AM YOU, ya numbnuts! Me and you, we have the same tastes, ‘cept I don’t try t’hide behind mine! Ya likes the fellows just as much as me! Ya soddin’ piece of arsewipe!” He aimed a hard kick into his humanself’s unprotected ribs. A wild grin on his face at the satisfying crack he heard. He drew his foot back to have another go at the prone body…

Buffy tackled him in a flying leap, knocking him from the seriously beaten human. “Spike, normally I would be yelling and screaming at you, then maybe there would be the beating and staking of you,” she began breathlessly struggling to contain his furious struggles.

“But dude, you gotta take a chill pill and calm down! You can’t keep hitting him….” She exclaimed.

Demon Spike snarled. His eyes, a raging riotous flaring gold. With contemptuous ease, he threw her off and flowed to his feet. “Yeah, that’s right! All you bloody humans stick together…!” he spat out angrily, gesturing to the moaning figure.

Giles cleared his throat, drawing the demon’s attention. “Spike, if you planned to merge back into one body, wouldn’t you rather do so in an undamaged one?”

Spike froze. “Oh, buggery…” he groaned, just contemplating the thought of his human self’s broken ribs in his body. He was awfully tempted to just let the human lay there, but he could already feel a disturbing weakness growing within him. Despite his contempt for his humanself, something within him called, craved to be one with his mortal body. And he had a sickening feeling that if he wasn’t merged back soon, he was going to go bye-bye.

His eyes narrowed, another disturbing thought sliding in his head. He wasn’t a fool or noseblind. His bloody pouf of a grandsire’s scent was all over his nummytreat. He had smelled Angel all over Xander. Obviously that southern nancy-boy forced his pet to give up the goodies.

Taking his Dru was the last thing Angelus was gonna take from him! He bloody well wasn’t taking his Xander.

Spike’s eyes burned with an icy ruthlessness. If was about time to show Peaches who really had the biggest pair.

If he had to stake the dirty old bastard and take back his Xander, he would. He would enjoy it. The blonde’s vicious smile made even Buffy eyes narrow and she stepped back.

With a sigh Ethan rolled his eyes. While jealousy could look so ugly on a body, especially a demon, he didn’t think anything would dare to mar that the white perfection of blonde vampire’s face, he thought wryly.

Gathering his power and focusing his will, Ethan began to softly intone the words that would recombine the two halves of the vampire. Human and demon would again be united. His hands circled one another, shaping the air between them. The startled watchers could see a brilliant light start forming. Getting bigger. And bigger.

It was soon the size of a beachball.

Ethan looked up, a faint smirk on his face. “This is going to hurt you far more than me,” he calmly said to the now worried looking vampire.

Spike’s eyes widened, remembering that awful pain. His mouth opened…

…Ethan released the energy ball

And Spike’s voice went up in a harsh shriek of pain. He writhed, his arms outflung as he gyrated with the force of the spell. At his feet, the human tried to crawl away. But a tongue of energy licked out and wrapped with seemingly gentleness around his ankle. Despite that, the human’s voice rose in a high, shrill cry of torment. His hands scrabbled on the floor, seeking something to anchor him.

He was pulled inexorably to his feet by an invisible force. Closer to the glowing, spastically jerking demon. Then his body began to move in a half-second delayed reaction to the demon. Buffy’s sharp, horrified eyes widened as she noticed that except for the timing, both males movements were exactly the same. Eerily so.

There was something, sensed more than heard. A kind of click when both Spike and his human counterpart’s wild gyration matched. Slowly the demon moved, carried by an unseen force. His body becoming almost translucent as his form was overlayed against the human. Now there was doubmagemage of the two. Human, with the demon’s form shimmering, still visible despite the solidity of the human male.

There was one last wild shriek. The man’s knees crumpled unable to sustain his weight any longer. He was barely able to extend his arms, slowing his headlong face plunge to the floor. With a shattered moan, his arms gave away and he slid bonelessly to the floor.

“Spike…?” Buffy whispered, taking a cautious step forward. When he didn’t answer, she took another step, shaking off Giles’ restraining hand.

Ethan and Xtchaly merely looked on sardonically. The incubus wrapped his wings around the mage and both silently vanished. Lexi gather her remaining people and with a wave of her staff summoned a portal. The Warriors followed her with little noise.

The Slayer dropped to her knees. Carefully she rolled the man onto his back, her body tensed and ready to move away if he proved a threat.

The others saw her stiffened, then a weary laugh came from her.

“It’s Spike…” she sighed getting to her feet and turning to the others.

“How do you know that?!” Giles asked in exasperation. He reached out a hand and snatched his headstrong Slayer away from the dangerous creature.

“Who else would tell me, and I quote: ‘fetch me a pack of smokes, a bottle of Jack Daniels and a pint of blood then leave me the hell alone, ya soddin’ Slayer’ end quote,” she replied with a tired smile.

“Spike…” the others agreed with equally weary expressions. Thankfully some things didn’t change, their smiles seemed to say.

Slowly their faces changed, darkened becoming immeasurably saddened as they recalled what had taken place in this very room. Their joy of freedom, the cleanness they felt in their souls was tainted by the blood price that was paid. That, for all they knew, was still being paid.

…And some things changed beyond recognition.

Buffy refused to look at the others, her face set in stone. She hurried to her sister and pulled the younger girl to her in an almost suffocating hug. As long as Dawn was safe, then everything would be okay. She held on to that one thought as tightly as she could.

Back at the Hyperion, Angel had his foot on the first stair. He was near frantic with haste to get upstairs and safely into their bedroom in the castle so that Xander could heal and rest.

“Angel…” Ka’s voice called him back. Turning around he frowned at her cold, withdrawn face. But inwardly, the Guardian was squirming with discomfort with what she had to say, but better now than later. She gave a sidelong look to her Defender, receiving a sympathetic look in return.

“Angel, take this…” she said shortly, placing a bottle in Xander’s lap. She peered into his face, and sighed. Thankful the boy was still passed out from the pain of his injuries. By the time he awoke, it would make what was to come a little more tolerable. Not easier, just…tolerable.

Cordy and the others drifted to the couch in the lobby with sighs of exhaustion of their own. They were barely paying attention to the conversation of the two individuals.

Angel scowled, his brow wrinkling in confusion at the bottle. “What is it…?” he asked suspiciously.

Ka was silent for a few seconds, her face paling slightly yet still cold, if not colder than before. “Did you think your pairbonding would stop just because one of you is injured?” she asked quietly. The woman slowly shook her head at the stunned look of horror on the vampire’s face. “It doesn’t stop, not like that. The pairbonding is a harsh taskmaster. The only thing that will temporarily slow the progress of it will be pregnancy.”

Hearing what the woman was saying, Cordy blinked. Even Gunn’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Bu…but…he’s…I mean…shit! He’s been beat like a crack whore!” Gunn protested heatedly.

Ka rounded on him, anger on her face. “I don’t make the rules!” she shouted. Then closing her eyes, she breathed deeply. “Forgive…” she murmured with a sigh. When she opened her eyes, there was a well of pain and weariness in her midnight eyes. “The bonding between a Guardian and Defender halts for very little. It matters naught whether one or both are injured; all that matters is that the pairbonding is satisfied. This is the only way we know how to combat it if one of us in injured.”

She gestured to the bottle in Xander’s lap. “This will numb our brother sufficiently for Angel to…do his duty,” she said with a clenched jaw. Everyone saw the effort her words cost her.

Angel numbly turned and headed up the stairs. Bypassing his warriors, unseeing of their quiet concern. Unaware of the Hyperion crew watching him with pain in their eyes.


Once in their bedroom, he headed straight for the bathroom. Pathetically grateful to find the showers going, the water lukewarm when he stepped into the spray, fully clothed. Kneeling, he held Xander’s face turned to his chest, out of the way of the water. Carefully removing the boy’s clothing, he winced at the sight of torn, bloody flesh. To his dismay, the boy came to.

Moaning Xander slowly rose to a painful, groggy awareness. He whimpered, his body burning, it felt like he had been dipped in fire. He tried to remember who or what had done this to him, and he cried out softly, his mind flinching away from some private memory.

Low cries coming from his throat, he felt water flowing over him, making his whole body flinch, shrink away from the intermittent tongues of flames. He tried to struggle, tried to get away from whatever or whoever was causing this agony. Xander moaned frantically for his Spike to come kick somebody’s ass, to help him. Praying for somebody, anybody Buffy, Giles or Will....And he cried out again, fire licking at his mind as an image of his redheaded friend briefly appeared in his mind. Mercifully a gray veil sweep across his mind, dulling the pain.

Then, recognizing the familiar hands holding him, he turned into them. Despite the warmth of the water beating down on him, he felt the unnatural coolness of the man holding him. Spike. Low keening sounds of pain coming from his lips, he tried to burrow into the body holding him, seeking comfort. Blurredly he opened his eyes, his vision strangely distorted and wavering. He chuckled hoarsely, humor coming to save him from the pain of his body and mind.

“Now, don’t be mad, but ya know, you look an awful lot like Angel,” he snickered at Spike. His lover looked appropriately horrified at the idea.

Angel rolled his eyes at the boy’s mumbled comment but decided to ignore Xander’s wandering mind. With extreme care, he washed the blood and dirt from the boy’s body, nearly growling at the sight of the multitudes of wounds decorating Xander’s lanky frame.

Xander pouted, his lip thrust out sulkily. “Ya know, you oughta stop being so jealous of Deadboy,” he chided his lover. “Just because you think he’s this great poufter and thinks he knows everything is no reason to be pissed at him. He has a lot of other equally annoying qualities that make excellent pissable reasons to dislike him. For instance, do you know that the amount of styling products he uses must equal the national debt? Ya didn’t know that, didya? Or that women always fall for that broody ‘oh look at me, I’m Mr. Sensitive’ look he’s got going there? Trickery! Nothing but trickery!” He snorted in contempt. He cast another look at his lover, expecting to see a smile, but to his dismay, all he saw was Spike wavering in and out of focus. Settling into Angel’s brooding countenance.

“Spike,” he complained tiredly, no longer able to ignore the pain of his body. “I really wish you would stop playing games with me! I don’t think I like it when you keep switching back and forth between you and Angel’s face. It’s distracting.”

Angel sighed as he listened to the boy ramble about his shortcoming. “Ya, luv…that Peaches is a bloody nancy-boy, alroight,” he claimed in an approximate rendition of Spike’s rough accent.

“Yeah…he’s a nancy-boy,” Xander sighed, his eyes dropping close. “Whatever that is…”

“Eh luv…? Could ya do me a favor and drink some of this liquor…? It’s good for whatever ails ya,” Angel coaxed the boy gently. He carefully held the bottle up to Xander’s lips and tilted it slightly.

“ ‘k…” Trustingly, Xander took a big mouthful, and immediately tried to spit it out. “Ewww! Blech…!”

His eyes grim, Angel forced the liquid down the boy’s throat despite the strident protests. Keeping a weathered eye on the nude figure, he was grateful to see the water was clear and the cuts were no longer bleeding. He could almost see faint signs of healing taking place, but he also knew it would take more than a few minutes for the boy to heal completely.

Xander gasped, his eyes opening wide as a fiery sensation swept through him, leaving a pleasant numbness behind. “Whoa…” he muttered dazedly feeling himself picked up and carried. “Somebody oughta bottle that stuff and give it away.”

Angel paused in midstep, the boy’s words filtering through his worried mind. Then he roughly shook his head and continued up the shower steps and into the bedroom. After laying the boy on the bed, he stepped back and swiftly removed his wet clothing and crawled into bed. Sighing with regret, he pulled Xander into his arms and, finding an unmarked flesh, stroked a hand back and forth over his Guardian.

“Mmmmm,” Xander murmured, his eyes closed as cool familiar hands stroked lazily over his body. He stretched upwards, his lips parted for a kiss. He opened his eye and blinked in bewildered dismay when Spike drew back. A frown drawing down his brows as the Angel rippled over Spike’s face.

Angel drew back when the boy tried to kiss him. Ever since they mated, they had yet to kiss each other. Unspoken, was that their lips was the final barrier that they were loath to cross. Yet at the clear unhappiness that darkened the bruised face, he sighed in forlorn regret. He lowered his lips, caressing Xander’s mouth with his own.

Xander sighed contentedly, his eyes closing as a mouth brushed delicately, gently over his, and a tongue licked coaxingly over his lips. Eagerly he parted his mouth, allowing the welcomed intruder entrance. Moaning unreservedly, he sucked with increased vigor on the sleek wet tongue, his darting out and following the cool caressing tongue back into his lover’s mouth. Greedily he feasted within, mapping the moist interior with all the erotic skill at his command. Unaware that Angel was prepping and stretching his body for the coming pairbonding. Long, pleasure filled minutes passed for the young man as he kissed his lover dreamily, enthusiasm had him trying to wiggle closer.

Moments later, he could vaguely feel an increased fullness in his behind. But it felt so distant, almost like that part of him wasn’t connected to his body anymore. Frowning, Xander opened his eyes, crying out in shock and anger at the sight of Angel, in full demonface above his own. But on the heels of his anger, the veil across his mind ripped apart.

And he howled, his cry one of despair and loss. “Willow…!”

Angel hastily labored to bring them both to a quick release. At Xander’s cry, the boy’s body tightened achingly around him and he groaned, bowing his head almost to Xander’s chest, spewing his release deep into the boy’s spasming interior.


It took Xander three long, pain-filled days to heal from his confrontation with the Shadow Queen…

…and Spike to come to rescue his lover from the ‘great pouf’s ham hands’.

Silently a slim figure slipped into the bedroom of the hotel. Angel and Xander slumbered on, pressed close together. The young man lay against Angel’s right side, his head pillowed on the broad chest; their limbs sleekly entangled. A thickly corded forearm held the boy anchored in place.

Using every ounce of stealth at his command, Spike stole gingerly across the room to the other side of the bed. A stake held at the ready. And at the sight of his boy laying snuggled in that soddin’ bastard’s arms, he was more than ready to stake the blooming bounder! His eyes were a bitter, frozen flame as he regarded the unknowingly cozy scene. He wasn’t to know that this was the first restful night Xander and Angel had had in three days as the young man healed.

Standing over Angel, Spike raised the stake…

Angel’s eyes snapped open as he sensed danger. His mouth parting….

…and Spike slammed the stake home, a vicious look of triumph in his cold, blue stare at the pained look on his grandsire’s face, silencing the shout stillborn in his elder’s throat.

Angel silently poofed, dust settling on the sheets in a vague approximation of a man.

Xander sneezed explosively, his head falling into the pile of dust. He came wide-awake from the force of his sneeze, his eyes widening in alarm at the sight of Spike on the other side of the bed. He yelped, drawing back fearfully at the angry expression on the blonde’s face. Before he could say anything, Spike had leapt over the bed and was yelling at him to ‘C’mon!’ Still stunned, Xander’s disbelieving eyes fell on the space where Angel had laid, and a whimper escaped his mouth at the sight of nothing but dust.

His eyes darted to Spike and the stake the other carried. One thought uppermost in his mind…

…Angel was soooo gonna be pissed!

Growling impatiently, Spike grabbed his lover and hauled him out the bed. His nostrils flaring at the distinct odor of sex saturating his boy. His mouth flattened in a thin line, but he pushed his anger aside. They had to get their asses out of this place. Not that he was scared of a few measly humans, but that bitch of a Slayer would dog their steps until she got her stake firmly imbedded in his chest for killing her precious Angel.

Xander only had time to grab his robe before he was hauled willy-nilly out the room. Dragging his heels, he tried protesting, but clearly Spike wasn’t listening to him, intent on getting away.

Castle West, sensing an interloper in her Defender’s dwelling contemplated what she should do. Using feelers that she had imbedded in the walls of the hotel, she observed a pale one like her Defender, dragging her Guardian through the halls. She dithered for a few seconds and, had she been human, she would be hopping from foot to foot, wringing her hands with an anxious expression.

Master Angel, for some odd reason, had recalled all the Warriors back into the Library and Castle. Now he refused to allow any of them to roam the hotel, to guard and protect the young Guardian. Stubbornly insisting that HE would protect the young Guardian. So now, there were no Warriors in place to stop the pale one stranger.

What to do?! What to do?! She was not built to fight. She didn’t even know HOW to fight, or stop the pale one from removing her Guardian. Then she brightened. But she did know how to rearrange herself and hurried to do so, simultaneously alerting the Warriors.


Gunn was stirred into wakefulness, feeling an odd sensation crawling over him. Three hours of battling demons, chasing a couple of idiot brain demons, then getting chased themselves by a bunch of hulking demons-which happened to be cousins to the idiot demons, slogging through the sewers and finally getting patched up really took a lot out of him. He opened bleary eyes and noted the color change of his hotel room room. The walls were decorated with masks and spears. There were huge, sleek panther- and lion-size cats sprawled comfortably on about the room. They raised their heads curiously, regarding him with cool neutrality. The large warrior patted the new bed that appeared under him, felt an ocean breeze caress his skin. Then turned over and went back to sleep. Fuck that shit, he was tired!

The cats looked at each other, silently communicating. Then one wearily got up and left the room, returning shortly with a dark purple robe that he tossed on the bed before he returned to his spot. Growling, he discovered his choice spot now occupied. The other widened golden eyes, pure innocence shining from them. The first cat hissed and smacked the other with his thick tail then turned to find another spot to sleep, a distinct grumble underscoring his silent steps. Tiny kittens, squeaking excitedly, immediately began climbing the covers of the bed, struggling to reach their new playmate. But to their disappointment he was asleep. And the floor looked too far away. Shrugging, they curled up around Gunn and went to sleep themselves…

While not quite as tired as Gunn and the others, as the bulk of Fred’s involvement was usually with the researching end. Occasionally she had the pleasure of whacking a couple of demons. But usually Angel and the others kept her in the background and away from too much danger. However, she had been sleeping quite soundly in her narrow bed. Now she sat huddled in the corner of the new room, watching the rippling effect that changed her room into a thing of splendor. Five golden-colored cats were in the room with her. They regarded her with surprised looks in their eyes, before it seemed they sighed and laid back down. Closing their eyes, they seemed to sleep.

But the timid young Texan remained crouched in her corner, terrified. Little balls of fur slipped away from the bigger cats and raced towards her, tumbling over themselves in their eagerness to reach her. Regaining their feet, one particularly brave kitten reared up on her hind feet and hopped in a circle.

Soon all five of the small creatures were playfully hopping around in a circle, while Fred laughed delightedly at their antics. Getting to her feet, she danced with them.

Gunn and Fred became the first to meet the, oftentimes, other half of the Warriors. The catlike creatures.

Cordy sat up in her bed. Despite her hair being tousled and sleep creases on her cheek, she still looked beautiful.

Dark eyes widened as the Seer took note of the enclosed bed that was cradling her body. It was the type of bed that she had dreamed about ever since coming to L.A. It was heavily draped in curtains of rich hues and huge. Her wondering eyes trailed over the opulent and pure lavishness of the incredible large room. It would make Donald Trump’s ladylove green with envy.

There was just enough light to see a pale Queen Anne’s sofa. It was accent with touches of a darker color, a color that complimented the two matching chairs sitting at an angle. The artful positioning of the furniture created a perfect yet intimate conversation area just in front of a fireplace. Which looked big enough to roast an elephant, she mused. Oriental rugs were scattered with careless abandon throughout the room; a writing desk peeked coyly from behind a decorative screen. Beautiful objects d’art were placed with the expert touch of a master designer.

It was a room fit for a princess or a Queen.

Cordy nodded decisively. “It’s about damn time,” and fell back asleep in minutes. A smug smile of contentment was on her face.

In Angel and Xander’s bedroom, the dust began swirling gently as if stirred by a breeze. Then faster, stretching almost the length of the bed. And if seen from above, the dust would be circulating in the distinct pattern of a man. A broad, powerfully built man. On the vague indistinct features, was a suggestion of vast irritation or extreme anger on his face. A brief flash, and Angel rested naked on the bed. And he was sorely pissed at his rude awakening. Not to mention the lack of Xander’s warm body. There was a definite rumble of thunder in his voice…

“SPIKE…!”


Spike yanked Xander along behind him as they ran through the halls. He knew this hotel like the back of his hand, he thought smugly. They turned a corner that would lead them to the stairs.

Only to meet a solid wall.

Spike blinked and looked at the back of his hand suspiciously. Okay, it was still the same. So what the bloody hell was going on?

Xander jerked his hand free, and shrugged into his robe, a worried expression on his face.

“Spike, what the hell are you doing here? I mean, glad to see you and everything, but WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” he screamed, moving away from the blonde. He abruptly stopped, not in the least surprised at the wall now at his back.

Spike whirled around, his mouth open to reply. And blinked at the solid wall behind the boy. “Okay, what the bloody hell is going on…?!” he snarled angrily. “That wasn’t there a minute ago!”

“I know…must be Cassiwe,” Xander muttered thoughtfully. He couldn’t help but feel proud of her inventiveness. And worried. “Angel is so gonna be pissed at you,” he tossed the comment distractedly to Spike.

“Who the bloomin’ hell is Cassy We?” Spike yelled, his eyes glittering with temper. “And that big poufter ain’t gonna be…”

“That would be Castle West. It’s Xander’s pet name for her,” Angel interrupted coolly. But his eyes glowed a savage gold at his startled grandchilde. He shook his head pityingly. “Spike…Spike… Spike…what have I always told you about planning this type of caper?”

He was magnificently naked. Spike gaped at him, feeling distinctly out of his depth.

“But…but…but you’re dust,” he stammered, his eyes growing wide in shocked amazement.

“I got better,” Angel shrugged carelessly, but his eyes were hard and angry.

Slowly the walls shimmered and 10 grim-faced Warriors stepped forward. Five were behind Xander in the unblocked hallway, and five stood on Spike’s left. A little too closely for his liking, however, but before he could move, he was seized in a grip of iron.

“Now Angel…” Xander rushed over to his Defender, ignoring Spike’s furious snarling and growling. “Spike was just…he was just trying to rescue me…from…from…uhm, your nefarious hands?”

Angel stared at him stonily. “My hands are NOT nefarious, bit bit out. “They may be a little dusty at the moment, but they are not nefarious.”

Xander relaxed slightly, noting the tiny gleam of humor in the other’s gold eyes. If Angel could make jokes, then he must not be too mad about getting staked, Xander thought hopefully.

“Now, what should I do with an impudent grandchilde that doesn’t know how to respect his betters?” Angel mused thoughtfully, staring with cool eyes at the furious vampire his people had restrained.

“Ya show me a ‘better’ n’ maybe I’ll respect ‘im,” Spike shouted, growling as he struggled to get free.

Jahna strode calmly, with imposing dignity down the hallway towards the gathering. She squinted, one eye narrowing at the sight of her Defender bare-ass naked. And she couldn’t help the tingle of female awareness for him. The Guardian was one lucky human, she thought enviously.

She peeled off her tunic, and stood before them in nothing more than a bustier and a tight pair of pants. Spike paused in his ranting to absentmindedly leer at her, then continued yelling furious threats of what he would do to Angel. Once he was free.

“Angel…” Xander warned the other vampire in a low, threatening voice.

“Xander…” Angel replied mockingly, pulling the tunic over his he


The young man huffed in annoyance. Xander crossed his arms and gave Angel an evil glare.

“You hurt one blonde lock of hair on his head and I’ll…I’ll…do something,” he proclaimed dramatically.

Angel raised a brow, an interested look on his face. “What will you do?” he asked, curious to see what threat Xander could possibly make that could dissuade him.

The young man’s mouth opened and closed, struggling to think of something horrible enough to make sure Angel didn’t hurt Spike.

“I’ll…I’ll…I’ll get a dodo,” he said triumphantly, a smug look on his face.

Spike stopped his angry ranting to give Xander a puzzled look. “A small, flightless bird? I thought they were extinct,” he looked at Angel in confirmation

“They are,” Angel responded calmly. He was watching his Guardian with an amused expression.

“A bird?! Uhm, I’ll get a dido,” Xander claimed, but his voice was a little uncertain.

Angel crossed his arms and pulled at his lip with a thoughtful look, then decisively shook his head. “A good singer, I’ll give you that, but I don’t think she’s what you’re looking for.”

“Perhaps the word you’re looking for is dildo,” he suggested kindly, his eyes glittering with hterhter.

“YES! A dildo,” Xander yelled triumphantly. He turned beet red at the amused looks everyone gave him. In retaliation he punched Angel, who just blinked.

“Ow,” he said mildly. Then at the mutinous expression on Xander’s face he sighed. “Go back upstairs and wait for me.” The young man immediately looked alarmed. “Go…I won’t hurt a single hair on his head,” Angel promised with the sweetly innocent smile. Eerily reminiscent of a cat with feathers sticking out of it’s mouth. And an empty birdcage.

For a minute Xander looked relieved, then suspicious. “Yeah right! That just leaves the rest of his body for you to hurt. No deal, buster! He walks out of here, no bruises or broken bones; upright and totally dust free.”

Angel looked exasperated, and abruptly tired of sparring with Xander. “Fine!” he snapped. They both ignored Spike’s yelling for his nummy not to peddle his arse for him. He could take care of himself.

Casting one last painful look back, Xander left the hallway accompanied by five warriors. Angel watched him go, he wasn’t taking any chances that the boy wouldn’t come back.

Once the elevator doors shut, he whirled around with savage grace, in full demonface. “Listen to me carefully, Spike,” he enunciated with great care. “Don’t come back unless you have my express invitation to do so. Things are different. And currently Xander belongs to me, just as much as I belong to him. You interfere again, and you’ll only wind up hurting Xander and yourself.” He didn’t bother mentioning that he would be hurt, more than sure that with that incentive, Spike would merrily parade up and down their bedroom.

Spike matched him, demon to demon. “He is MINE!” he growled, straining against the hold on his arms.

“Not anymore,” Angel retorted coldly. Then he sighed, looking regretful. “Spike, you should have Claimed him when you had the chance. Not that I’m blaming you, cause stubborn is Xander’s middle name, but had you took him as mate none of us would be in this mess that we’re in right now.”

“Then give him back,” Spike immediately shot back. “You don’t want him, so give him t’me and I’ll make sure we don’t come ‘round these parts ever again.”

Angel shook his head pityingly, his eyes sympathetic to the gleam of pain in the younger vampire’s eyes. “Xander would kill you,” he said quietly. Spike scoffed mockingly, his laughter wild and free.

“My boy would never harm a hair on me head,” he replied hotly, curling his lip at Angel.

“Not intentionally, no,” Angel agreed softly. “But you see, Xander was born a Shardt. A Shardt is an individual capable of making the transition from human to Guardian. A Guardian is irrevocably bonded to a Defender, which happens to be a demon. That also happens to be me.”

“Give him to me…ya bloomin’ poufter!” Spike said through gritted teeth. He struggled furiously against the steel grip about his arms.

“Irrevocable, mean NO CAN DO!” Angel yelled at the snarling blonde. “Besides, the way this works, if Xander so much as thinks about fucking you while he’s touching you, the energy that runs through us will kill you. Drain the semblance of life from your body.” He deliberately didn’t mention thct tct that Xander wouldn’t leave him. Couldn’t leave him. There was no need to upset Spike any further.

“Then let him!” the enraged vampire shouted angrily.

“You want the guilt for killing you on his conscience?” Angel demanded harshly, in a sub growl of his own.

“YES…! I just want him,” Spike shouted wildly, desperately. “Give him back to me…” he pleaded, his voice low and passionate. “Angelus, I’ve had everything taken from me: Dru, me dignity, me reason to BE a vampire. All I have left is Xander…don’t take him from me…please,” he begged hoarsely.

Angel softened, his eyes gentled on the emotional demon. And seeing their Defender soften, the Warriors eased their hold on Spike. Which was the chance he had been waiting for.

With a roar of fury, he tore from their startled grip and attacked Angel. Putting all his pent up rage into the blows and flurry of kicks he laid on the older vampire. Soon they were both snarling and rolling on the floor. Punching, biting and growling as each sought to get the best of the other.

Jahna regarded the two males rolling around at her feet with an exasperated glare. Heaving a sigh, she reached down and jerked them apart. Spike turned on withwith a savaged snarl, and she roared back, shaking him viciously as her lips peeled back from her teeth. Teeth that swiftly grew to long, very sharp points in her gaping mouth.

Spike froze, momentarily jarred out of his intense rage. Cautiously he felt for the floor with his foot, swallowing hard as he hazarded a glance at the floor. He dangled from han hand like an ill behaved child.

He threw a bitter look at Angel, joy surging through him at the numerous bruises, scratches and bloody teeth marks littering Angel’s body. He smirked. Angel was naked again. Then he frowned, remembering the girth of his grandsire. He wasn’t dumb, he knew Angel was forcing his nummy to be his bum-boy.

Angel growled at Jahna. She regarded him calmly then opened her hand, allowing him to drop to the floor.

He wiped his mouth, wincing at the sting of pain. “Get out of my hotel and don’t come back until you learn how to behave yourself,” he snarled. “Xander stays…end of discussion!” he snapped when it looked as if Spike was going to argue. “Get it through your head, we can’t be parted from each other!”

Jahna dropped Spike and stepped back. “I’ll figure out a way t’get me boy back,” Spike sneered.

Angel gave him a cold look of warning.

With one last growl, Spike stormed off. Silently vowing to come back and reclaim his boy.

Angel turned and stalked to the elevator, with the Warriors falling in behind him. He was still furious at the defiant childe of his line. Irrita, st, stupid, starkly damn fool, was the least insults he heaped on Spike’s head. Couldn’t he see people were trying to protect him?

Angrily he stormed into the castle, his anger slightly dissipating at the sight of Xander waiting anxiously in their bedroom.

“Did you…?” Xander swallowed hard, feeling sick at the set look on Angel’s face.

“No…” Angel sighed, coming further into the room and pulling the boy into his arms. “I’m afraid he doesn’t understand. He’s too pissed to hear what I said.” He could feel the rioting waves of anger ease from his muscles. He sniffed at Xander’s neck, licking quickly at the frantically beating pulse, using his touch to calm his Guardian down.

Xander subconsciously tilted his head, to give Angel greater access. “What are we gonna to do if he comes back?” he asked shakily, gripping the vampire’s pale forearms with nervous hands.

“Deal with it…” Angel murmured distractedly. He was intent on getting Xander into bed and doing away with the tension that rode them both.

“Deal? Deal? Deal how? Deal as in killing? Deal as in talking? How are we going to deal?” the boy moaned softly, his body beginning to singis eis eyes were heavy-lidded when Angel drew back.

“I don’t know…we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Angel quietly said, walking them to the waiting bed. Untying Xander’s robe, he pushed it off the youth and urged Xander down. Following the boy swiftly, and kissing whatever his mate was going to say into ruthless silence.

Soon the room was filled with breathless moans and loud cries of delight and pleasure…


Spike made it back to Sunnydale without trouble. His eyes were stormy with bottled fury, he was swift and sure death to any unlucky demon that crossed his path. For the next several days he raged about Sunnydale, and the returning demons learned to avoid him like he was the Slayer. Fearing him more than Buffy, who was desultorily going through the motions of slaying. Lost without her two best friends at her side.

He also began drinking heavily, falling asleep every morning in a drunken stupor. Uncaring about anything. Most of the times, unaware of how he wound up back in his crypt.

Most unwise of him.


Spike jerked to consciousness at a feeling of extreme danger. Growling, he blearily opened his eyes, only to see a pair of predatory golden eyes staring down at him. Then pain exploded in his jaw and he slumped back down, unconscious.

Slowly the blonde vampire swam to consciousness. Profoundly aware of a stabbing pain in his head. Remembering the golden eyes, he tried to sit up in alarm. Only to find his arms bound to his side and his grandsire a-straddling him.

“Wot the bloody…?” he froze at the pinprick of a sharpened wooden stake sliding into his chest.

Angel smiled, his eyes coolly dispassionate as he watched the younger vampire. “See? It’s not so nice to wake up with a stake going through your chest, is it now?” he asked pleasantly.

Spike glared, not daring to say a word just in case the soddin’ nutter actually staked him

“What’s the matter, Spikie?” Angel asked playfully. “Cat got your tongue?” He had a mocking expression on his face. With sickening ease the stake slid deeper into the younger vampire’s chest.

Spike exploded in virulent, foul curses that singed the air. Angel responded by shaking his head sadly and tsking. “And you used to kiss Xander with that mouth.” He pulled the stake out of the blonde’s chest, resting it just undpikepike’s breastbone.

“Yeah, and now he’s spreading his legs for…” the blonde started to say nastily. But before he could finish, Angel slammed his fist in his stomach.

“I think we need to get the rules straight right now,” Angel said with icy finality, his eyes colder than the depths of space. “You may rant and rave all you want about me, you may curse me to hell and back. However, you will keep a civil tongue in your mouth regarding Xander. Do I make myself clear?” For emphasis, he pushed the stake in a little bit more.

“Clear…” Spike growled, his eyes hot and bitter. He had a resigned look on his face. “Ya always hafta come ‘n muck things up for me,” he muttered softly. But Angel heard him.

“Not this time,” the older vampire shook his head. “This time it took only you and Xander to muck this situation up. If you both had the balls to admit you were in love with each other, then maybe you two would be together right now.”

“Yeah, and I bet you’re just loving it, aincha?” Spike shot back snidely.

Angel cocked his head to the side, a peculiar smile on his face. “Did you know that I was having an affair, or as much of an affair as possible, with Wesley? We were searching for a way around the curse, or some way of breaking the damn thing outright.”

“Well, congratulation on having yer two boys t’warm yer sheets…?” the younger vampire exclaimed, but there was a cold, twisted sneer on his face that belied his words.

Angel ignored him. “Once Xander and I were mated I found that thinking about Wes in a certain…way and or touching him caused him pain and would have killed him. It also caused me pain; Xander passed out, he couldn’t take the agony rioting in his head. Ya, th, that’s how we found out that we literally can NOT touch our former loves. We can barely think of them without hurting ourselves. If I think too long about Wesley, both Xander and I hurt. A lot. This is how the pairbond conditions us. Until eventually both Xander and I will forget we ever loved you and Wes in order to avoid the pain.”

Spike froze, listening to that quiet voice speaking about what amounted to torture for Xander. He shivered, remembering what the Initiatives did to him, how they conditioned him not to attack humans by implanting a chip in his head. Enough pain, and you learned. A body would do almost anything to avoid hurting. Just like a soddin’ dog, he was.

“Fuckin’A…” he sighed, his eyes dulling. “How long…?”

Angel regarded the younger male. “How long before the pairbond wears off?”

Spike looked up, startled and elated at the thought. “Yes…!”

“Fifty years…” was flat response. The older vampire’s eyes were shadowed with pain but Spike didn’t take any notice in his excitement. Fifty years was nothing! With a bit of luck, and avoiding Slayers and such, he would be around when…and his thoughts slowed to a stop. He took a long hard look at his grandsire, and an unaccustomed feeling of pity welled up in him.

Wes would be an old man or dead by then…Angel was going to be alone. Then Spike shrugged, but he would have his Xander.

Angel smiled without humor. “I see that you’re pleased,” he remarked dryly and casually dismounted from the younger vampire’s body.

“Well, I’ll still be around for my boy once your pairbond wears off,” Spike replied calmly, his eyes glittering with delight.

Angel gave him a cool look over his shoulder. “Unless of course, he falls in love with me,” he reminded the other softly. “After all, my face and body is the one he will be sleeping beside for the next fifty years,” he said cruelly, wanting to wipe that damn smug look off Spike’s face. He knew what the other was thinking, that Wes would be either dead or an old man by that time. Or maybe in love with someone else, a sly voice reminded him.

Resolutely he ignored his dark imaginings. Feeling a little spiteful satisfaction rising in him at Spike’s instantly shuttered expression.

Abruptly he changed his mind about causing the younger childe of his line further pain. “Look I didn’t come here to trade insults w’you,” he said harshly turning back around. “I came here to warn ya not to come back to the hotel unless ya have me express invitation. While I KNOW ya not a danger to me and mine, but still these new instincts to protect Xander insists that yer a threat and need t’be eliminated,” he said, his brogue deepening with his intensity to make Spike understand.

“So as a gesture of goodwill, n’faith I had yer chip removed,” Angel said, releasing the wrist straps holding the younger vampire down. “Yer free to hunt and play, within reason o’course,” he said warningly. “No hunting o’Buffy, Giles and anyone else Xander is fond of.”

Spike blinked in stunned wonder, his hand instinctively going to the back of his head. At the shaved area, and the slight incision he found his spirits immediately lifted. Then his eyes hardened in disbelief; and he growled at Angel.

“S’bloody trick,” he muttered, tossing the older vampire an angry glance. Storming off the bed, he grabbed his smokes and furiously lit one. “Well, ha-bloody-ha!”

“No tricks, my boy,” Angel replied quietly. “And I brought you another present.” He turned and rushed up the stairs and out the door. Spike could hear him dragging something…someone closer to the opening. He smiled faintly at the soft swearing he could hear Peaches muttering.

He sniffed, his eyes narrowed to cold blue slits of light, a low growl starting at the base of his throat.

When the big, burly man tumbled through the opening, Spike caught him. He didn’t want him getting hurt.

At least not yet.

Jack Harris looked up terrified into a blonde man’s coldly pale face. All he remembered of last night was answering the door. Something hit him in the face and the next thing he knew he was waking up in the trunk of a car. Bound and gagged.

He knew it couldn’t be money whoever was after, because everybody knew he didn’t have any. What the hell did they want?

“See, prezzies…” Angel said softly, sauntering back down the stairs. “Xander told me a bit about his home life. I just want to make sure neither one of his parents ever comes near him again. I ‘accidentally’ killed his mother, so I figured, what with you being so in love with him, that you should do the honors to his father.”

Jack eyes nearly bugged out of his head at the dark-haired man’s words. Xander and this guy? He frowned, then his eyes widened as he remembered the blonde staying in his basement with Xander. His eyes reflected all the revulsion and disgust he felt.

Spike stroked his hand gently down the man’s face, his eyes soft and dreamy. “Yes…” he said quietly, his eyes becoming vague. “When I used to live there, I could hear Jackie boy here, upstairs screaming at me nummy something fierce. Demanding money, again and again. Then yelling a couple o’days later when me Xander didn’t have enough money to give him for rent. I could hear him hitting me boy, hurting him. Making him scream,” this wasd ind in a low growl.

Jack eyes were locked on the man, horror filling him when the pale face…rippled. Jagged sharp teeth, golden eyes and ridges on his brow now made up the blonde’s face. The human moaned behind his gag and tried to scoot away.

Spike cast a look at Angel. “Ya sure the chip is out?” he asked doubtfully.

Angel smiled enigmatically. “Only one way to find out…”

Jack screamed behind his gag at the sudden sharp pain that exploded in his neck. His heels drummed on the floor.

When Spike raised his head, his mouth was smeared with blood. He tilted his head back and sighed in rapture. “Ahhhhh…” He ripped the gag off the human’s mouth, wanting to hear the screams and pleas for mercy. Just like Xander begged and pleaded so long ago.

And Jack didn’t disappoint him. Blubbering pleas fell from the man’s lips, mixed between the screams of agony whenever Spike sank his fangs into a particularly choice spot. Tormenting the man, never taking too much. He wanted this to last.

Angel smiled and quietly departed. Jack Harris’ screams of pain ringing in his ears.

Xander stirred when a cool body slid back into bed. Rolling over, he looked at the clock then back at Angel. “Where have you been…?” he asked yawning hugely. Stiffening slightly when the vampire pulled him into his arms.

“Had to see a man about a car,” Angel replied cryptically, burying his face into the back of Xander’s neck. He started purring softly, feeling the tense body in his arms relax.

“Uh, huh…if you don’t wanna tell me, then just say so,” Xander complained mildly, but his eyes were slowly closing, his body softening at the calming purr from Angel.

“Okay, I don’t want to tell you,” his Defender replied.

“Big meanie,” Xander mumbled and fell back to sleep.


A quasi-truce was established between them in the intervening months. They practically tiptoed around each other, treating one another with excruciating politeness that was sadly touching, Fred thought as she watched them. But it was a fragile sort of peace, she felt. Because they weren’t dealing with the issues between them, only putting a flimsy piece of gauze over a gaping wound and hoping that it would heal by itself.

The rest of the hotel’s inhabitants held their breaths, and tried not to spend too much time inside. Not one of them wanted to be around when the shit hit the fan. No one was under the impression that it was going to be bird shit that hit. It was going to be the size of elephant dung.

Big and messy.

They were also slowly coming to terms with just how...changed Angel was. Before, due to the immediacy of dan danger looming and the bond between him and Xander, they had chalked Angel’s changed attitude to that.

Charging out to the rescue after one of Cordy’s visions opened their eyes to Angel’s new, very different attitude.

They had become involved in a case where a young girl had disappeared. Her name was Shelly. And four days later, the young girl had been found. She was dead.

Angel, tapping his resources, discovered that in addition to her body and face mutilated, Shelly had been raped. Shelly was the second body that the police had found, and they were sensing a pattern.

They had a serial killer on their hands.

Two days later, Cordy groaned, her hands clutching at her head as a vision of a two frightened young girls chased by a pack of horned demons slammed into her head. In moments, the Hyperions crew were gathered around the Seer. She was huddled in Wesley’s lap, gasping and shaking with fear that somehow poured into her mind. When the vision finally ran it’s course, it left her limp and weak, whimpering with terror.

Her words, the fear that they could all sense coming from the dark-haired girl made them look at each other uneasily. Visions yes, they could understand; but the terror that Cordy was experiencing was something new. Never before had emotions cross over into her mind.

“We got to help them!” she cried, clutching at Angel’s shirt with desperate fingers. Though her eyes were glassy with fear, and a sick pallor overrode her tanned features, there was a grim look of determination on her face.

“Who…?!” Angel asked, holding her hands tightly in his. Giving her the gift of his calmness and concern. Xander came running with a glass of water for the young girl, his face still alarmed at the look on Cordy’s face.

“The girls…” the young Seer replied, releasing Angel’s hands and gratefully accepting Gunn’s help in getting to her feet. Wesley held the glass of water to her lips, her hands were shaking too much for a steady grip.

Describing what she saw, and felt helped eased the tremors that still shook her. The grim looks on everyone’s face helped even more. But at the description she gave of the demons, puzzled looks were on both Wesley and Angel’s faces. Silently Xander shook his head as well, none of them recognized the demons in Cordy’s vision.

With a jerk of his head, Angel directed them to the Library. It was the work of minutes before they had an answer to what the demons were. It took several more hours of Angel and Gunn, using their connections to discover that a group of humans, young, bored and rich humans were involved in the disappearance of not just those two particular girls, but also a half dozen more.

Apparently the boys were part of a gang that had concocted a hunt. Not just any old hunt, but a special hunt of human prey. They liked their sport ‘animals’ blonde and pretty. It made it so much more satisfying once they ran the girls to the ground.

A frightened demon told Angel what he saw and begged for protection.

After they were finished enjoying themselves on the terrified bodies of their victims, the young women were casually tossed to the demon packs as a reward.

Wesley theorized that due to the savagery of the act, it wasn’t just about sex; it was about dominance and control.

Somehow, Angel sensed the involvement of Wolfram and Hart in the midst of this.

It made him all the more determined to stop the men. He made it his personal goal to do whatever necessary to bring the men’s hunt to an abrupt end. Angel’s crew went after the men like a pack of hunting dogs. With Xander and Fred at the hotel still researching, Angel led Jahna, five of the Warriors and his team on a hunt of his own.

It took them three hours to track down the men. And another 30 minutes to destroy the demon pack that one of the men, a talented witch, managed to summon. They freed the two women that were in Cordy’s vision. The two Warriors, a glamour protecting them, carried the hysterical women outside. Angel and the others sorrowed that they were too late for the other three women that had been captured. They found the mangled remains in the next room. Grimly they stalked to the room where Jahna and three other Warriors were keeping a careful eye on the human men.

“Alright, you’ve caught us…” one of the young men said with remarkable composure. His name was Todd. He came from generations of old money. He, like his friends Michael, Peter and Harold believe that with enough money, you could do anything you wanted. And their families had more than enough money. He reclined with lazy ease in his chair with the boredom of one with too much money and time on their hands. He wasn’t in the least intimidated by the demonface Angel or the angry looks directed at him by the interlopers. “By the way, who the hell are you anyway? You’re certainly not the police.”

“My name’s Angel…” the vampire began to say; though interrupted by the four young men’s laughter.

“The vampire with the soul? How fucking rich! And here I thought we were going to be in real trouble,” snickered Harold. He was leaning against the wall with studied grace. His blonde streaked hair and clothing, Cordy was quick to note, was carefully styled to look utterly casual. But her discerning eye knew that only the truly rich would spend hundred or thousands of dollars to achieve that ordinary casual look.

Sometimes she really, REALLY hated rich people. And when she got rich, she would be damned if SHE ever acted like that!

Angel’s face held no expression at the mocking laughter from the young men. Jahna gave him a quick, sidelong look then looked away. The vampire gave the men a polite stare. “Yes…that particular vampire,” he replied in his mildest voice.

Gunn and Wesley gave Angel wary looks, sensing something was wrong with Angel’s reply. He was too…calm. But Cordy shivered and drew carefully away from the vampire uneasily.

“Guys, chill!” ordered Todd, the apparent leader of the bunch. He pushed up from his chair and sauntered to a bar. Cocking a brow at Angel and the group, silently offering them a drink. Shrugging in unconcern when they simply glared at him.

“So what’s it gonna be? You know that by the time our lawyers get finished, they’ll have the jury believing we were set up and framed. Afterall, demons don’t exist, right?” he smirked nastily at Angel and took a sip of his aged shot of brandy. “And I’m sure that nobody wants me to prove that they do, now do you?”

“Yeah, it’ll probably take about, what? A day or so before the charges get dropped,” Peter laughed as he strolled over to the bar. Todd poured him a shot of whiskey. “If any are brought against us, that is,” he said negligently. Gesturing to the smiling photos of all the various girls they had had kidnapped, raped and mutilated he continued. “And those pictures, why they’re just art,” he argued in a light voice. “Look at how they are smiling! How were we to know that some depraved, callous creature had done such horrible, filthy things to them?!” Allr ofr of the men affected horrified looks, totally at odds with the laughter dancing in their eyes.

“You know Wolfram and Hart?” Harold tossed out contemptuously. He lit a cigarette and began puffing calmly on it. “Well, they’re good. The best as a matter of fact. If you have the money, you can buy your way out of anything. Like Peter says, I doubt we’ll see any jail time.”

Gunn and Wesley gritted their teeth. Furious denial on their lips, but they knew what the men said was true. For far too often, evil, vicious humans like these slid through the cracks of the system. Cracks greased by vast amounts of money.

“You filthy pieces of shits…!” Cordy hissed with virulent fury at men. She was literally shaking with hot, intense rage. She wished she had a gun, so she could just shoot the little bastards and save the next batch of future girls some misery. Like the two men, she also knew that with Wolfram and Hart stellar efforts, these four dickheads would be out and victimizing some other innocent girls, in another city.

Angel stirred. His face relaxing back into his human guise. “You’re right…” he sighed. Gunn, Wesley and Cordy looked at him with hot, bitter resignation in their eyes. “But…” in a blur of speed, he was in front of Michael who had remained silent and watched the proceedings with disdainful, superior expression. “But they’re not here right now.”

Michael had time for a brief gasp. And when Angel stepped away from the man, their eyes went disbelieving from the front of the human’s bloody chest to the heart Angel held in his hands. A dark exultation rising in the vampire’s soul at meting out justice. The spot of sheer, bloodthirsty violence was, just by coincidence, a bonus.

“Yo…you…you…can’t do that,” Harold protested in shock, his eyes wide with incredulity.

Angel raised a brow, a questioning look on his face. “Okay…” he said slowly, a thoughtful look on his face. “How about if I do this instead?” Again, a blur of speed and Angel was in front of another young man. Tossing Michael’s heart away, the vampire positioned his hand on either side of Harold’s head.

And clapped.

His hands meeting together with volcanic force. A predictable reaction took place. Between his hands, Harold’s head exploded like a wet melon.

Justice with an attitude, he silently crowed. He turto tto the remaining two men, pacing towards them with the slow, unrelenting speed of a jaguar. There was no hurry in his movements. There was no where the two men could run that he wouldn’t be able to find them. Death was inescapable. He was inescapable.

The men’s deaths had happened so fast, so unexpectedly that Cordy, Gunn and Wesley were still in a state of shock at Angel’s actions. All they could do was goggle at the shattered remains of humans.

Peter’s glass dropping from his nerveless hand called their attention back to the matter at hand. Opened-mouths, they watched as the vampire sauntered towards the two remaining rich men.

“But…but…you’re supposed to be a good guy,” Peter stuttered, at last finding his voice. He backed away from the remorseless figure of the vampire. “You’re not supposed to kill…” his words were a screech of sound as finally Angel reached him.

“Sorry, what was that werewere saying…?” Angel asked interestedly. The loud crack of Peter’s neck snapping in his powerful hands was shockingly abrupt. “I guess nothing,” the vampire remarked conversationally.

Todd swallowed hard. The last bit of brandy in his glass rippled in his shaking grasp. A frantic look of calculation was in his eyes. “What do you want…? Money? Power…
girls? You like girls, don’t you?” he said hurriedly, setting his glass down on the bar. He backed away from Angel’s steady approach, his eyes desperate and bright.

“Yes and no,” the vampire said cryptically. He reached the terrified human, his face smoothly remote.

“Angel, stop this!” Cordy yelled, regaining her powers of speech. “Are you insane…?” Then she gasped, color fading from her face. “Omigawd, Angelus…!” she whispered in horror and backed away herself, her head turning frantically as she struggled to recall the way into this place.

“Not even close,” Angel rolled his eyes. “For the love of…” he broke off abruptly with an exasperated sigh. topptopped his approach to Todd’s vast gratitude and turned to his petrified friends, his hands planted crossly on his hips. “What is your problem, woman? Every time I do something you guys don’t like, you yell Angelus!” Angel flicked an annoyed glance at her.

“You tell me, what do you think will happen once Wolfram and Hart enter the picture?” He waited with cold patience through their stumbling words.

“So, what? You’re just gonna take the law into your own hands?” Gunn asked. His eyes were troubled and clouded with warring emotions. “Dude, it ain’t like I’m not down with what you’re doing, ‘cuz if any sumabitches deserve an old-fashion smackdown, they do.” He indicated with a jerk of his bald head the sprawled bodies of the men Angel had already killed. “But we done went down this road before, and it wasn’t pretty.”

Wesley nodded, his face tight in disapproval. He spoke in a low, controlled voice to the vampire. “You locked Wolfram and Hart lawyers in a room with Darla and Dru, remember? I certainly do…” he continued with withering sarcasm.

But like Gunn, he was of two minds. On the one hand, he would love to congratulate Angel on his actions, but on the other hand…the last time Angel walked this road, they all suffe


Angel had fired them all.

However, to his uneasy surprise, Angel didn’t even flinch or look guilt ridden he he used to. Merely facing them with calm resolution.

“That was then; this is now,” Angel replied softly. He shook his head at their angry, disturbed faces. “You know as well as I, that he’ll be on the streets within hours or minutes of being arrested. Any person that has sufficient quantities of money will have the full resources of Wolfram and Hart behind them. Protecting them. Bribing the witnesses, judge and jury if necessary. Do you honestly think he will do time for his crimes?”

“Do you think we’re going to approve your actions tonight?” Cordy asked harshly. She badly wanted to agree with Angel that killing these rich bastards was the best idea. It didn’t take being a Seer to know that Todd, once back on the streets, would disappear and show up someplace else. Infecting others with his depraved madness. And taking the lives of other young girls. But that was not how it was supposed to work. Besides, she wasn’t too sure she liked this version of Angel. She wasn’t exactly sure if it was still Angel or his darker half. She shivered, or worse, an Angel that was just as dark and cruel as Angelus.

Angel’s head cocked to the side, a faint glitter of something in his eyes. “I don’t think I specifically asked for your approval,” he replied apologetically. But there was nothing sorry in his face. Only a calm resolve of a man taking out the garbage.

“Angel,” Wesley said through gritted teeth, struggling to pull his…friend away from the dark road of vengeance and retribution. “You are NOT to kill this man. Let the law handle him! Human law, Angel! That’s what it’s for. He killed humans, so let human law handle him!”

Angel looked thoughtful and Todd let out a silent sigh of relief. His confidence returning, he straightened from his cowering position. His arrogant, cockiness returning.

“But he involved demons, and that’s where I become involved,” Angel replied softly, his face firming as his decision was made.

“Wait! Talk to Xander,” Wesley shouted desperately, staying Angel’s attack on the human. “See what he says.” As much as he would like to see Todd die like the rest of the filthy creatures that had called themselves ‘men’, he feared what it would do to Angel’s soul if the vampire continued down this dark path.

The vampire shook his head slightly. Jahna coughed softly into her fist, drawing everyone’s attention. She entered the conversation with a diffident air. “I’m afraid that would do little good,” she said gently. “While the line of distinction between Guardian and Defender may blur at times, in the end, should crimes involve demons, the Defenderthe the sole arbitrator. Even if Lord Xander agrees with you and tells Master Angel NOT to kill this creature, Master Angel is well within his rights to ignore such a request.”

Angel regarded the unconvinced faces of his team and sighed. “Very well, I won’t kill him, since you feel so strongly about it,” he said, smiling slightly at their looks of relief. He flicked a brief glance at Jahna, the demoness blinked and looked away. “Let’s go…
we’ll call the cops once we’re outside.”

“You’re giving up…? Just like that?” Cordy gaped at Angel, hardly daring to believe it. Although she was secretly disappointed. She would have much preferred that he overrode their objections and killed the little turd.

Todd sighed, already planning what he was going to say to his mother. He shivered, dreading the call to the bitchqueen. It was the one thing he had in common with his friends. They all hated the mothers that kept them on short leashes. Controlling them.

His mouth twisted sourly, hardly sparing a glance at the remains of his former friends. A sick, twisted fury stirred in his soul, a dark craving for the remembered screams of the women. The way they twisted, cried and screamed. Begged him. It was such a rush. He felt like a god over them. A god with the power of life and death.

He was in control.

Now someone would have to pay. A new city, a freshrt wrt was going to be necessary. He would feel the hot, sick rage rising in his soul. He had to find a mouthy, ball-breaking bitch soon and show her just who was in control. Maybe even that little man-eating little whore over there. She was looking at him like he wasn’t fit to lick the shit out of her ass. Maybe once he got out, he would pay her a little visit. Yeah, have a little ‘fun’ with her.

Then see who would be licking who’s ass.

“Yes….Now let’s go,” Angel replied shortly, anxious to get the stench of this place out of his clothing. He moved hastily towards the entrance. There was a brief hesitation, then Cordy was hot on his heels. A grimace of distaste flashed briefly on her face at the ripe scent of blood and despair that riddled the place.

Gunn and Wesley glanced at each other as they followed. They held their breath, just in case Angel turned around and completed his handiwork on Todd. They hardly dared to believe it was just that easy.

It wasn’t until the next day that they found out via the morning paper, that all four men had been found brutally murdered in an underground lair. Accusingly their eyes went to Angel. At their angry looks, he raised his hands. “Hey, I was with you guys, remember?”

The men relaxed, remembering that he was with them. But Cordy’s eyes remained fixed on him in uneasy suspicion. A look that vanished when Angel gave her a pleasant smile, an odd blankness in his eyes. And she knew he had somehow ordered Todd’s death.

Cordy shivered, questioning herself for the first time. Just how well did she know Angel? Then she shook off her grim introspective mood. Weighing the good and the bad, she came to the conclusion she still trusted Angel. And if she still believed in him, then…and Cordy gave the dark-haired vampire her trademark megawatt smile. At ease with her decision.

Angel, in turn returned it with one of his, though slightly, more hesitant grins. But there was btlebtle relaxation in the set of his shoulders, and the blankness vanished from his eyes.


Three months later…

Angel was lying propped up in bed, reading the diary of one of the Guardians. He idly turned another page of the journal he was reading, absently registering Xander talking to him from the bathroom. He sniffed lightly, rubbing his nose in annoyance. They were in the hotel bedroom. Periodically he would grunt in reply, but not really paying too much attention to what the boy was saying. His attention was held by his reading material. It was the journal of the second Guardian that he had randomly picked off the shelves. Finally deciding to get around to reading about the previous pairs. He was on the fourth book of the second Guardian. And it was fascinating, really. Reading about events thousands of years in the past. This Guardian and Defender were both males. It was interesting reading about their problems; they were so similar to what he and Xander were going through. He thought maybe there would be some insight into how that Guardian and Defender handled things, perhaps it would have some bearing on his and Xander’s relationship.

He sniffed again, angrily rubbing at his nose. Whatever cologne Xander had recently started wearing was driving him insane. The odor had the effect on him of either wanting to fuck the boy blind or chaining him up in the bedroom and standing guard outside, growling at everyone.

Xander unhappily regarded his shirtless self in the bathroom mirror. He turned sideways, and held his breath, sucking in his stomach before exhaling with a great rush of sound. Damn! He had a beer belly without the pleasure of freaking drinking beer. And was exercising like a fiend, he grumbled to himself. Well, not exactly like a fiend, more like a human trying to get his fat ass into shape.

Sighing he grabbed his pajama shirt and shrugged into it, determined to increase the amount of exercising as das doing tomorrow. No matter how much it hurt his hips, he had to lose weight. He clicked off the light, and walked out the door, buttoning his shirt.

Angel slowly sat up. What the…? He was unaware his mouth dropped open in surprise as he read on in mounting horror.

“holy shit…” he softly exclaimed.

Xander’s brows rose, he looked up from finishing buttoning his shirt. “ shi shit what?” Then he saw what Angel was reading, his expression lighting up. “Oooooh, what’s happening? Is it juicy?” he exclaimed eagerly, rushing to the bed and hopping in.

Angel’s head jerked up and he stared wide-eyed at Xander. Dropping the book he yanked the startled young man closer to him and ripped his shirt open. Then he groaned and fell back on the bed, covering his eyes with his forearm and groaned again.

“Angel…? Angel…?! What’s wrong…?!” Xander exclaimed in alarm. He pushed himself back up in a sitting position and closed his shirt with trembling hands. There was something scary about that wild-eyed look Angel had given him.

Angel removed his arm and regarded the anxious boy with a blank stare. “We have to find a doctor…” he said shortly hopping off the bed and going to the dresser. Pulling out a drawer, he grabbed pants and shirt and shucked his pajamas, and put the other clothes on.

Xander regarded him jealously. Angel didn’t even LOOK at what clothes he was pulling out. And he looked perfectly coordinated.

“How do you do that…?” he burst out, getting off the bed at Angel’s urging. He ambled to his dresser and agonized over what to wear. His hand darted in, then hesitated over brown pants, then slid over to a pair of jeans, then over to a black pair of pants.

“Do what?” Angel aconfconfconfusion, running a quick comb through his hair, slapping gel on his hands and slicking it on his hair with the ease of long practice. He went to the closet and slid on a pair of shoes, not bothering with putting on socks. They needed answers fast.

“Look like a freaking fashion plate!” Xander growled angrily, pulling a pair of grey sweat pants and a Dayglo slime-green pullover out. He had already found that most of his pants weren’t fitting snuggly anymore. “How do you decide what looks cool and stylish?!”

Angel looked down at his attire with a puzzled scowl, seeing nothing remarkable. Dark blue pants, silky maroon shirt, just the middle buttoned, of course, black shoes.

“Because I’m wearing it…” he said with a frown of confusion.

Xander snorted and shook his head. Maybe it was an ageng. ng. If you lived as long as Angel did, you were bound to pick up something.

“Why do we need to find a doctor at this hour anyway?” he asked breathlessly as Angel tugged him to the elevator and up to the Library.

But Angel ignored him, dark eyes searching for Arun, the head librarian. He snagged a passing young demon, politely requesting w the they could find a doctor. He had a feeling that nothing was left to chance. There would be a doctor that dealt strictly with Guardians and Defenders. Sure enough, the demon directed him up to Castle West, once upstairs go to the fourth door off the Main Room and request Dr. Stern, then open the door.

Pulling a protesting Xander behind him, Angel hurried to follow the directions…


Returning several hours later, just after 11 pm, Angel walked more slowly. His face grim and haggard, he had a shell-shocked look in his eyes. He was no longer holding on to Xander, in fact, there was about three feet of space between them. He was still a bit staggered by what Dr. Stern told them. How could he be so fuckin’ blind?! Angel cast the boy a sidelong look, as the shock began wearing off, concerned how Xander was taking the news. The boy was walking almost like a sleepwalker.

He was uneasily aware that once the jolt of disbelief wore off Xander would give in to the hysterics that were surely racing through him. Through them both. And if Xander crumpled, he would more than likely join the boy in screaming hysterically.

Xander looked pale and shocky, a spastic tremor affecting his hands before the boy tucked them under his arms. His bottom lip quivered for a moment before being ruthlessly caught between white teeth and stilled. A drop of blood beaded up around his teeth.

They headed downstairs, back to their hotel bedroom. And Xander was still eerily quiet.

So quiet. Dangerously so.

Angel opened the door, and urged the boy into the room. He hovered nervously by the door, then softly shut it and regarded the young man.

Xander looked at the bed, feeling lost and alone. He dropped to his knees and crawled across, pulling the covers over him in an effort to hide. Distantly he could sense HIM in the room with him, and he whimpered. Pulling the covers over him tighter, huddling and shaking, slow tears leaking from his eyes.

He felt the bed sink down, then a strong body wrap around him, holding him tightly. Almost he felt the fog part, but frantically he retreated from reality. Unwilling and unable to bear the truth.

Angel held the shuddering boy until he was assured Xander had fallen asleep.

“Dear Lord, what are we gonna do…?” he whispered in pain.

Getting up, he hesitated a few seconds looking down at the huddled form. The fact that Xander was his mate slamming him right between the eyes.

Silently he strode for the door.