Touched (Part 1 of 8) Completed

(Characters: Not mine, I'm just playing with them)

Spike had enough. One week - seven days and nights had passed. Each time he went to the temple to try to see the boy, the answer was the same. He could bloody well quote them now. “A warlock must be kept in seclusion from all but his teachers until he achieves a measure of control.”

Warlocks might have control. Vampires didn’t.

Especially once they figured out what was at stake. Every bleeding day, he missed him that much more. Missed his stupid jokes. Missed fighting over the remote. Missed winning the remote. Yeah... even missed some of that kissing they’d gotten into after dancing at that poofter club, whatever it was called.

Every day, he’d grown more irritable. Less human. Yeah, that’s what the boy did to him, brought out his old humanity. And the vampire... another voice whispered. The vampire wanted his boy out and at his side, rules be damned. If he had to, he’d stay at the temple, but there would be no more seclusion... not from him.

He was still calling himself all sorts of fool for letting the warlocks take Xander, when he landed on the garden side of the high stone wall surrounding the temple property. The grappling hook hanged from the top of the wall, but he left it and headed for one of the arched entrances.

On the way, he passed an ancient-looking well, with a bucket hanging over it. At least the place had a peaceful air about it. Maybe Xander did like it here. That might relieve a measure of the guilt he’d been carrying around.

Big golden statues of men with animal heads guarded the doorways. Inside, the bamboo flooring gleamed warmly under the light cast by torches lining the yellow stone walls textured with fingers of moss that grew from the cracks. Prayer mats were scattered around various alcoves and altars, here and there.

Spike inspected the room and the only thing that bothered him was the annoying bee-like humming sound – as if people were doing yoga. He hoped it wasn’t something Xander had taken up.

No, there was something else that bothered him. The absence of all other sound. He stilled. He couldn’t hear anything else... not laughter, not the sound of breathing, and not the sound of a single heartbeat.

Eyes narrowed, he looked at another row of arched doors leading to the inner parts of the temple. The first was locked, as were the next several.

Another thing. Vampires weren’t known for their patience.

Morphing without thought, he pulled the last one open with a snarl, breaking one its' hinges and tossing it ... pushing it aside so that the skewed door now lay against the wall. The sound of snapping wood was followed by other sounds. Lots of heartbeats. Curses. Plaintive cries.

“What the fuck...” Everything was different in here. Cold. Stone walls. Stone floors. Harsh fluorescent lights cast a blue pall on the long corridor. Doors with hatches at the top and bottom. Trays of food. A prison? Soundproofed from the front areas?

Spike's blue eyes turned as chilly as the room as he started to narrow his search, listening for the heart beat he knew so well.

“Help.... you there...”

Spike ignored her and single mindedly kept walking, but she called again, he thought it would be better to know what he was walking into. Two minutes, that’s all it would take. In a few strides, he was at her cell and opened the hatch the rest of the way.

“Please open the door... get us out.”

Immediately suspicious, he drawled, “How would you know I’m not one of them?”

“Not an ounce of power coming from you.”

He slammed the hatch and started to walk away.

“Wait... what’s the matter with you?” she hissed, pressing against the door.

“Didn’t come here to get insulted, did I?”

“I just meant... I just meant if you’d had powers... you wouldn’t have gotten in, now open this, please... before it’s too late!”

Metal scraped against metal, and then the door was pulled open. A young girl, probably Dawn’s age walked out, rubbing her arms and looking warily around. “Help me get the others out. My boyfriend, and the other warlocks.”

He gripped her shoulders and forced her to stand still. “What is this place? It’s supposed to be a school... to train warlocks... to help them ..,.” A cold fist squeezed his gut every time she shook her head ‘no’ to his questions.

“ ... speak,” he shook her slightly, “what is this place. What have they done to Xander?” he snarled.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” she said indignantly, trying to pull away. “It’s a cult. They find young warlocks...”

“You’re a warlock?”

“No you idiot, I’m a witch... my boyfriend’s a warlock, they have him... and a few others.”

“What do they want?”

“They... they don’t believe in free will and emotion. They take it away,” she said, her voice filled with horror. “They train you... but they zap you if you have any feelings, until you’re just part of their machine. That’s why ...”

“Get everyone out, I’m getting Xander.”

“I can’t... I mean we can’t leave, there’s a spell field around this place, it keeps others like us out, and us in.”

“We’ll see about that. Meet in the garden, there’s a rope hanging from the wall,” he said and strode away, leaving her to deal with releasing the other warlocks.

He reached the door at the very end of the hall and opened it. On a thin pallet on the floor of the small, dark room only eerily lit with that blue light, he saw Xander stir and sit up.

“I’ve come to–“ Spike took a few strides, then sailed into the air and hit the corridor wall behind him. “What the bloody hell?!?” He looked around, expecting the cult leaders, and then approached the room.

The room might be sparse, but every item in it, the pallet, Xander’s sneakers, a book and a few other sundries were circling around Xander who now stood. “Get out.”

“Xander—“

“I said fucking get out. You let them take me... you promised...”

Spike tried again, and this time not only did he slam into the wall, but a sneaker nailed him on the forehead. “Owwww.... that hurt!”

“I don’t ever want to see you... go...”

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to get you... Xander stop it!” he ducked the other shoe, and found his face slammed into the door. It opened and moved toward him again, but he put his hands out and stopped it.

“Don’t wanna hear your promises... don’t wanna hear anything... from your lying mouth,” Xander approached the door, eyes wild with anger, with pain ... eyes that damned Spike’s already damned soul.

“What have they done?” Spike saw the bruises on the boy’s cheeks, noticed how he limped. “They hurt —“

“You hurt me more.” Xander put his hands out, as if to physically push Spike out.

“Wait...” Spike started to unbutton his shirt.

Xander’s gaze fell to the vampire’s chest, then traveled back to his eyes.

“It’s what you want, right... look, you like me without clothes. I’m quite sharp, I notice these things...” tossing his shirt to the ground, he moves slowly into the room, “you also like being kissed, yeah... by me... hard?”

Though angry, Xander was mesmerized by the sight before him. One of his many dreams coming true, even if it didn’t mean anything. But the minute he felt Spike’s arms around him, the room went wild again. “I told you I hate you!” He tried to throw Spike, but Spike held him so tight, they both hit the wall together.

“But not this, you like this... and this...” Spike kissed his neck, rubbing his mouth back and forth over the squirming boy’s neck, “and this....” he slid his leg between Xander’s, “Shshsh...”

“Bastard, you tricked me,” he arched his neck under Spike’s tongue, “oh God, I hate you... I hate this...”

“Mmmmm, I can see that,” Spike moved his mouth over Xander’s and kissed him, nipping his lower lip, and then soothing away the savage beast.

The wind stopped blowing around them, items fell to the ground. Xander leaned against him, greedily sucking on his tongue.

“Are you calm now?”

“Yes,” Xander whispered breathlessly.

“Good.” Spike broke away and picked up his shirt, “then put your shoes on and let’s get out of here.”

“Let’s... you... this was all... you...”

“Do you want to stay here?”

“No.”

“Right then. Shoes.” Spike had them in his hands and dropped down next to Xander, helping him put them on.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“Don’t need your help.”

“I want to give it.” Spike tied Xander’s shoe laces and got up. “Let’s go home,” he reached a hand out and pulled the boy up to his feet.

That was when the shaking started. And the crying. Spike pulled Xander into his arms again and held him.

“This isn’t a school...” Xander pressed his face into the crook of Spike’s neck, trying not to cry anymore, but the angry wall he’d built around him had already broken... all because of one gesture. Had a bigger idiot ever been born?

“I know it isn’t...”

“They wanted me to do things... I couldn’t... couldn’t control my powers....”

“Shshsh, it’s alright, we’ll find another way,” Spike put his chin on Xan’s head, knowing time might be running out.

“Hurt.... they hurt my mind when I couldn’t use the metals...”

“Use the metals?”

“To ground me.... they’re supposed to ground me.”

Steel bands suddenly tightened around him too hard, making Xander yelp and look down into eyes so hot with anger, it made him flinch. At that moment, he realized what Spike already had. Metal didn’t ground him, Spike did.

*

Outside, an odd medley of teenagers waited for them. All males, except the one Spike had freed himself. In whispered voices, they told him they’d tried to climb the rope but couldn’t get over the top of the wall.

“So there’s a spell... extending the wall?”

“Yes.”

“No way for you to get over?”

They shook their heads. “Maybe you can go find our folks... maybe...they can do something ...”

Raising his hand, Spike halted the speculation. “There are what, twelve of you here? Break the wall down.”

“He’s right... the wall’s not magicked,” the girl chimed in.

“Course he’s right,” Spike said with a smug look. “Now hurry up, don’t have all night.”

“Yeah they get here early in the morning,” she whispered.

“Let’s not wait for morning.”

The kids dug into their pockets and their shoes, or socks, pulling out metal blocks, or smooth stones. Just as Spike wondered what they were up to, Xander grasped his hand. Ahhh.

The air stirred around them as the teenagers concentrated. “Make sure you hit the wall and not me,” Spike shouted in Xander’s ear, “that’s usually where everything ends up...”

“That’s cause you’re usually doing something you shouldn’t be ... Just stand there and be a good grounding prop.”

“Grounding prop! I’ll give you--”

The trees shook leaves all around them as the power level built up. Then, with no warning, the wall exploded and left them in a cloud of dust.


*

They dropped off the teens, made sure they were safe with their families or relatives and Spike grilled one of the parents for information about Jagards and what to do with Xander’s late blooming talent.

“Embarrassing much?” Xander asked when, at last, they were on their way.

“Don’t want any more snafus, do you? You need to get control over your powers, and these are the people who can help. You heard what they said.” Without bothering to stop at the light, Spike made a left turn. There were no cars any way at this late hour.

“Heard that before,” he held onto the arm rest. “Okay, these people looked normal, not like the robots you gave me to.”

“I didn’t give you to anyone... Alright, I took you back.”

Seeing Spike’s face darken as if he had some serious mayhem on his mind, Xander was immediately sorry to have brought it up. He’d rather talk about them... their future.

“We’re going to the crypt then?” He gripped the handle.

“No.”

“No?” Xander bit his lip. He no longer had his apartment in Sunnydale, and if they weren’t going to the crypt... they made a turn and he sucked his breath in. “Giles! You’re dropping me off at Giles’? Spike?”

Parking the car at a crooked angle in the driveway, Spike left without another word, not even bothering to shut the door.

Xander rushed behind him as Spike banged on the door and yelled, “Come on, open up.”

“I don’t wanna stay here, Spike I wanna go to ...”

The door opened, revealing a newly awakened Giles pulling his robe together and squinting at them. “What’s going on? Spi–“

Pulling back his arm, Spike punched the watcher in the face. “That is a wake-up call,” he shouted, following Giles inside and pulling him up off the ground.

“Good Lord, what is happening,” as he tried to protect himself, Spike’s fist slammed into Giles again.

“That’s for not doing your bloody homework, and...”

“No... enough, Spike enough!” Xander tried to pull the vampire back, and he was shaken off twice. The third time, he held on and closed his eyes. Please let this work

Spike dragged Giles to his feet again, “And this..,” just as he pulled his arm back once more, Giles’ robe and pajama top disappeared, leaving him in striped pajama... shorts. Both men looked down as the shorts started to shake and tearing sounds came from them.

“Noooo... no....”

The shouts were unanimous, as Spike backed out of the house with a distinctly unvampiric ‘ewww’ and Giles held his bloody nose with one hand, covered his shorts with the other, and backed away toward the kitchen.

“S...sorry ‘bout that,” Xander started to appologize but left when the watcher motioned for him to just get out. He followed Spike to the car and got in. “That wasn’t nice.”

“He wasn’t very nice, was he? Put you in that place with all the torture and the--“

“It’s okay, he didn’t know, he thought... what?” Xander turned to look at Spike as the vampire slammed the breaks and turned to him.

“It took me twenty minutes to get you to talk to me, and that’s after you bloody well knocked me on my arse a few times, and when it’s Giles... you go all soft. It’s his fault you were in there...”

“I know but...”

“But what?!?”

“I don’t know... he’s not the one who promised to ...”

“I let you go because he said he’d looked into it, he’s a watcher–“

“I know... I know.... but... well ... We’d been together all that time, you know, in the car and the motels... the drive, and I just... you made me feel safe, and I was scared when we got to Buffy’s and you promised you’d stay, and then you didn’t, and it hurt ... it hurt because it’s you, I don’t love him, I ...” Xander hung his head. “I want to go to the crypt with you.”

“I...” Spike hit the gas pedal. “We’re going to Buffy’s, crypt is no place for you,” he stole a glance at Xander, “and this isn’t the place to talk about anything important.”

Did he mean...? Biting his lip, Xander looked over at Spike, but now all he got was a view of his impassive silhouette.


*

Buffy and Dawn moved into Buffy’s room for the night, Xander hovered in the doorway of Dawn’s room. Spike seemed to be doing the same in front of the other room.

Their eyes locked. And then Spike had Xander in his arms and was kissing him breathless. “Shshsh,” he warned when a groan escaped the boy’s lips. “Sleep now, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Spike! You leave me in a perpetual state of....” Xander gave a dramatic sweep of his hand to draw attention to his aroused state.

“Yeah... I do, don’t I?”

Xander caught the decidedly smug smile before the door closed and he was all alone in the hall. Slowly, he went inside and climbed into Dawn’s bed, wishing for the days when they’d been on the road. Just the two of them. One bed. Whether they got along or not, when he needed him, Spike had been there.

Now he needed him. How could the guy get him so hot so fast? And then leave him like this! Hello... he could be soundless if he needed to, couldn’t he? He’d even stuff something in his mouth so he’d be noiseless and... okay... yeah... Spike probably wasn’t the quiet type... or the type to let him stuff his mouth with something. The thought of gagging the vampire had him laughing as he rolled on his side and punched the pillow into shape.

It was a dark, windless night in the desert. For a small Southern town that didn’t take too kindly to ‘his type,’ there sure were a lot of men cruising for boys in this part of town. Xander looked good, and he knew it. His tight sleeveless shirt showed off his arms and chest. On occasion, he’d move just so, and his shirt would creep up, revealing his abdomen.

There it was, a whistle. He turned and laughed, “sorry pal, you can’t afford me.” He swivelled his hips and strode away, earning himself a bit of begging. “Dancer, not hooker. Friday night... at The Joint.”

“Let’s see you move.”

Well why not? Xander swung his hips around and slapped his thigh, moving to the side. “Cowboy gear is my specialty,” he said, pushing an imaginary ten gallon hat down over his face. More cat calls. “Friday nights boys,” he repeated and started one encore move when he heard an “Oh shit, cops!”

The truck pulled away from the side walk and careened around the corner. Xander started to make a break for it when a blue light was trained on him from behind. He could see the red lights flashing.

“Hey look, man...”

“Stay where you are, don’t turn around,” a decidedly British accent ordered over a speaker.

“Fuck!”

“Put your hands up where I can see them.”

The car door slammed. Xander’s heart beat against his chest. He started to turn.

“I said don’t move, you have a hearing problem, boy?”

“N...no.”

“No, sir,” came the clipped answer.

“No... sir.” Fuck... what was going on? Xander felt a hand clamp on his shoulder.

“Walk.”

Xander did as he was told, he had no choice. “Officer....”

“Shut up. Up against the car. Put your hands on the trunk.”

He started to move closer to the car but was prevented by a leg that suddenly blocked him. Leaning forward, as if doing a push up, he felt very vulnerable. If he let go of the car, he’d stumble.

Lifting his head, he could see the cop in the rear view mirror. Dark uniform, tight. Short hair cropped close to his head, almost platinum. Shit, the way he looked, he could be one of the dancers at The Joint.

“Open your legs. Wider,” Xander felt a leg inserted between his, kicking from side to side until he obeyed. For an instant, he felt the press of firm muscle against his inner thigh, then it was gone. His skin tightened, his cock pressed against his zipper. Shit! This was no time to get excited... and yet, when he stole another look at the rear view mirror at that stern face, images of dancing for this guy raced through his mind... dancing until that controlled look was replaced with uncontrolled need.

Hands started patting him down. His neck and shoulders. Back. Fuck, they slid around him and were splayed across his chest. His heart was hammering so hard, the officer would know.

“Made a lot of money tonight, did you?”

The hands swept over his abdomen, making him even more aware that a sliver of skin was now exposed. His gut tightened under the cops touch. “No.”

“No what?”

“No sir, I’m a dancer, not a...”

“How much did you take from those men?” The hands started patting down his ass. Thoroughly. Xander swallowed and just about let go of the car. “Hold still, boy.”

“I told you... nothing. Sir.” Xander arched his back as those hands stroked the insides of his thighs. Circles, so close... fuck so close to his aching cock.

“You like that, do you?”

He didn’t know what to say, but when he felt cold hard metal suddenly pressed against his zipper, he answered. “Okay... yes... yes, I like it.” A downward glance showed him it was the cop’s gun. “Oh God are you going to...” he croaked as the gun was rubbed more firmly against him at the same time as the cop pressed up against his ass. He could feel how hard the guy was, so hard, so ready, sliding against his crack. “Fuck!”

“How much?”

“What... nothing... just fucking fuck me.”

“I don’t want a freebie.”

Xander recognized the feel of money getting shoved into his pocket. He didn’t ask how much, or care, or demand the cop take it back. Instead, he strained alternatively against the gun and against the cock at his rear, panting lightly, ready to beg.

The silence was broken by the sound of the cop unbuckling his belt. When Xander tried to move to undo his own pants, a crisp command in his ear stopped him. He felt his button get popped open, then his zipper get pulled. The hands at his hips pulled his pants down below his ass cheeks.

The cop immediately closed the gap between them, rubbing up against him. Xander caught the sound of a groan and imagined that the sight of him going commando must have drawn the reaction. The man’s hot and throbbing member was slowly driving him crazy, and he wanted him inside. “C’mon...”

He’d expected roughness. Instead, the cop slipped his hand between them and prepared him, his touch firm but gentle. Xander held his breath... expecting the invasion, but crying out with pleasure when the cop started fondling him alternatively with the gun, and the back of his hand that held it. They both started to move, back and forth, each time a little harder, a bit sharper, and then the cop was in him, thrusting against his ass, pulling him back with the gun and hand, driving him wilder.

Delirious, Xander looked into the rear view mirror and groaned at the sight of the pale hands on him, the contrast between his dark uniform and the alabaster skin of the cop’s hip jerking forward, fucking him into the car. “Harder,” he urged, throwing back his head and biting his lip as the cop rammed into him, and grunted near his ear as he reached his climax. “More... more...”

“Yeah... oh yeah....” the cop shouted his release, out of control, so out of control, firing his gun left and right, hitting the car... a tree....

The sound of a door opening and hitting a wall woke Xander. Just as he lifted his head, the hallway light was turned on. His heart dropped at the sight of Spike...

...Butt naked and waving his hands around, index fingers pointed straight out and his thumbs making up and down motions, as if he were cocking a gun. Clearly, he was fighting his body and trying to stop it.

Oh my god... the dream... only this Spike was shooting with both hands and looking very un-cop-like.

“Oh my God!” Buffy exclaimed from somewhere beyond Xander’s view, followed by Dawn’s “Eeeeps!” A door slammed shut.

Incensed blue eyes locked with his. Xander squirmed. “I’m trying.. It was a dream...”

“Xander.” Spike turned his body fully toward him, thrusting his hips as he made circling motions in the air with his ‘guns.’

But only one thing held Xander’s attention. “Holy...” his mouth dried. “You’re not helping me want you dressed.”


(A/N: Thank you for letting me know you are still enjoying the story. Your feedback is very much appreciated... so... leave more? ::grins::)