Tainted Returns

Title: Tainted Returns
Author: Kiristeen ke Alaya
Series: Not at the moment
Genre: BtVS
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Codes: Slash, humor, violence, graphic sex, bondage, dom/sub, minor knife/blood play, some language
Rating: NC-17
Beta: not currently beta'd

Warnings: Contains explicit slash sex, violence, and sex games.

Disclaimers: The world of BtVS and all its characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Productions. They're not mine, and no money will be made from this story. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: (Goes slightly AU immediately following the last ep. of season 6.) This story takes Xander to a place he never went in the series. Immediately following his discovery of Spike's attack on Buffy, he decides to teach the vampire a lesson he won't soon forget.

Seeking out Spike, Xander discovers he has to rescue the vampire *before* he can carry out his plans. Unfortunately, Xander's luck is running true to form and things don't go quite the way he planned. In an altercation with one of the demons that has Spike, he gets sprayed with the demon's blood. It has some . . . interesting side affects. Xander's plans begin to shift as his controls and inhibitions fail, and memories and desires he'd far rather have kept buried deep in his subconscious come out to play.

AN: The demonic language spoken in this part is spelled with the closest phonetic approximation. Human tongues and throats can't actually form the words. : )~


**********
Part One
**********


Xander had worked up a full head of steam by the time the crypt came into view. As far as he was concerned Spike had crossed the line, and he was just the person to bring that point home. Buffy'd said it didn't matter. She'd told him to let it alone. Well, he just couldn't do that.

Spike had something coming to him, and it sure as hell wasn't a swat across the nose and a gentle 'don't do that again, Spike'.

"Ooof!"

"Tur noc fon, slet hic novalmo?"

Xander froze, frowning. That pained exclamation had sounded like Spike. **But who's with him?**

"Turna nog corle. Veta not."

**That's two.**

Creeping forward slowly, Xander followed the voices and the sounds of flesh hitting flesh. Sure enough, they led him straight the door of Spike's crypt. Someone had beat him to beating up Spike. **Damn!**

"Bloody hell!"

"Slet hic novalmo?!"

Xander stood indecisively for several long moments. He wasn't sure whether to leave them to it or actually dive in and rescue Spike. The vampire deserved it after all . . . didn't he? Groaning, when Spike let out a pained howl, Xander threw open the crypt door.

Silence descended instantly.

"Spike?" he shouted into the seemingly empty crypt. "Who the hell *else* did you piss off today?"

"Harris?" Spike asked, his voice sounding the worse for wear to Xander.

"Who else would it be, Fangless?" he shouted back, even as he groaned to himself again. **It *would* have to be down there!** Finding a length of discarded 2x4 as he worked his way deeper into the crypt, Xander hefted it. He smiled. About three feet in length, it would make an *excellent* impromptu weapon.

It didn't take him long to reach the two demons and Spike. He stopped, crossing his hands over top the 2x4, leaning on it as he would have a cane. In other circumstances, he might have found the scene in front of him amusing. Spike was being held shackled with his own manacles. His arms stretched above his head and out to the sides, the chains were sinched up tight enough that only his bare toes touched the ground. "So," he asked brightly, "what'd he do to you guys?"

The demons shared a look that Xander could only interpret as puzzled, but before either Xander or the demons could respond, Spike startled them all.

"Don't leave me with him!"

The two demons slowly turned until they were squarely facing Xander. They studied him silently.

Xander damn near gaped at the blond vampire. **What the hell?** he thought incredulously. **Oh. Oh!!** Almost grinning, Xander ducked his head to give himself time to control his expression. He *so* could not believe Spike was pulling a Brer Rabbit!

"Metso?" asked demon one, turning only his head to gaze questioningly at the manacled Spike.

"Why?!" Spike exclaimed, his voice fairly ringing with incredulity.

Xander's eyebrows rose. He hadn't realized Spike was that good an actor; though, he supposed he should have. Convincing people of lies was, in a way, acting.

"He's a bloody maniac, *that's* why!"

**Oh, what the hell!** Xander thought, dropping into the character that Spike was even now trying to paint for him. He allowed a slow grin to form, imbuing it with every ounce of evil intent he'd worked up on the hike over.

He was pleased by the startlement that flickered through the vampire's expression, his blue eyes widening ever-so-slightly.

"What's the matter, Spike?" he asked. "Don't have time for your old pal, Xander?"

The demons -- Xander still didn't know what kind they were; he'd never seen them before -- exchanged bemused glances, their smirks turning to full grins as Spike shook his head vigorously.

"Hell, no, Mate!" the vampire vehemently denied. "The last time around I couldn't walk right for a week."

**Don't lay it on *too* thick, Spike!** Xander thought. **They aren't going to buy it, if you do.**

"Sic nuw voltar, Spike?" demon two asked.

Spike's eyes widened in what Xander could only describe as exaggerated horror. *He* almost believed Spike was afraid of him. It was a good feeling . . . a very good feeling . . . a *surprising* good feeling. Xander let himself feel it. **To hell with always being 'the good guy',** he thought viciously. **Where has it got me?**

Spike shrank back, and if Xander hadn't been one hundred percent certain it was all an act, he would have been utterly convinced that the vampire was terrified of whatever the demon had asked him.

"What's he asking?" Xander demanded, trying to sound gruff and threatening, instead of plain old curious.

Spike shook his head, pulling as far back as the manacles allowed.

"Sic nuw *voltar*, Spike?" demon two asked again, this time taking a threatening step forward.

Xander copied the movement, bring the 2x4 up to rest across his shoulder. " *What* is he asking?"

Demon one grabbed demon two's arm, wrenching it around. "Cor nolvatarma lac xtra *nommee*!"

Demon two chuckled. "Nor poolknor."

"Spike!" Xander shouted, this time managing to add a real growl to his words. It wasn't difficult; he was getting tired of being ignored.

Spike jerked his head around until his eyes locked with Xander's. "He's asking whether or not you'll leave me alive."

Xander laughed. He couldn't help it. So much for the vague, undefined feeling that maybe the 'demons' might stick together. "They understand English?" he asked.

Spike nodded, suddenly lowering his gaze to the floor, the submissive gesture sending a totally unexpected rush through Xander. Yeah, he'd wanted to teach Spike a lesson, but he hadn't expected to actually *enjoy* it. Well, okay, enjoy it *this* much.

Grinning fully, Xander turned to face demon two. "Oh, yeah, I'll leave him alive. He won't learn much from the experience if he's dust, now will he?"

Demon two laughed -- at least that's what Xander thought that sound was. It was a disturbing sound, that much was certain.

"Och klart, nova almar crom. Kevleen mora tode comavarn alef. Lvnarta colloor rama noz stranta, co'tld vot."

"MOV!" demon one snapped, striding angrily toward demon two.

"Nava, Lart," demon two replied patiently.

Demon one, obviously unhappy with the way this meeting was turning out, stomped back to his place beside Spike.

"Translation?" Xander asked, turning his gaze back to Spike, surprised to find the vampire staring at him with undisguised amazement.

"What?"

Xander almost laughed as demon two pulled a gesture that was -- apparently -- universal; he rolled his eyes, then repeated his statement.

The fear -- *apparent* fear, Xander had to remind himself -- was back. "They said I'm all yours -- roughly."

Demon two reached out casually, and cuffed Spike across the side of his head. The deceptively gentle blow snapped the vampire's head back, rocking his body back as far as the chains and manacles allowed.

Xander's eyes widened at that display of strength. It *really* didn't bode for him, if this didn't continue on its present path of friendly cooperation.

"Novar *molt*!"

Spike shuddered, closing his eyes briefly before returning his attention to Xander. "He *said*, 'What's ours is now yours. You'll get ownership as soon as you pay his debt to us.' The other bit was just an argument about whether they should allow it."

"They own you?" Xander asked incredulously, trying in vain to keep his surprise out of his voice. "How much?" he continued, this time not having to pretend to disgust.

"No, you bloody wanker!" Spike objected. "They just *think*--"

Spike's words were cut off abruptly as demon one mirrored demon two's earlier actions, only he put more force behind it.

Xander cringed as the loud *craack* reverberated through the crypt.

Glaring angrily, Spike continued, this time carefully *not* moving his jaw as he spoke. "Within their culture, when someone fails to pay a debt, they become the possession of the person they owe. And it's $200."

"Fine, I'll do it," Xander said flatly, then paused thoughtfully. "I don't suppose they'd take a check?"

Spike carefully shook his head.

"I'll go get the money," Xander offered, turning toward the exit. Then, stopping suddenly, he turned back to demon two. "But I'm paying for him; from here on out, *I'm* the only one that gets to hurt him. Understood?"

Demon one growled, the sound low and full of menace. Pulling itself up to its full height -- full, rather intimidating height -- it took a single threatening step forward. Demon two, however, merely nodded its agreement, turning an admonishing look on its companion.

Xander turned then and strode out of the room, determined not to look back and spoil the image. **This is *so* not going to turn out well,** he thought, worried about the demon that *obviously* didn't agree with the 'sale'; though, he had to admit the idea of being able to hold his 'ownership' of Spike over the vampire's head for the next . . . oh, couple of *decades* was definitely grin worthy.

Half way to the outer door of the crypt, Xander saw Spike's duster laying half on, half off the stone coffin. He grinned, an idea forming in his mind. He might just make it out of this alive after all. Grabbing the prized coat on his way past, Xander strode out into the night, feeling better about the ending of this little affair than he had.

**

Spike watched Xander leave with mixed feelings. First and foremost was his concern about what would happen while the whelp was gone. Secondly, of course, he was concerned that Xander would 'come to his senses' half-way home and decide *not* to carry through on the agreement. He wasn't altogether certain whether that would be a good thing or not. It was a sure thing that Xander would *never* let him live this down.

A growl from his left had Spike stiffening in preparation for being hit again. ** *If* the whelp *can* actually get me out of this,** Spike thought, suddenly revising his indecision, **I can live with the ribbing. At least I'll be alive -- sort of.** Frankly, he'd been surprised when the Margaso leader had asked about leaving him alive. Up until that point, he'd been certain he was a dusted vampire.

Of course, Xander himself had *really* surprised him, he'd expected it to be a little more difficult to clue the whelp in on the part he had to play. The boy had taken to it with an ease that was . . . unsettling, and it was only now that Spike was beginning to wonder what it was that had brought Harris to his crypt in the first place.

"I can't believe you're selling the vampire to the human!"

"Oh, quite being a child, Lart. This is the perfect solution to our problem."

"How?" Lart demanded petulantly.

Spike listened, his mind automatically translating the unspeakable demonic language.

"You know as well as I do that a vampire servant would be more trouble than it's worth. This way, we get our money, and *he* still gets what he's due for his contemptible behavior."

"I still don't like it," Lart continued. "The human will be too gentle."

The Margaso leader finally snapped. "Leave it be, Lart! What's done is done. I *will* not back out on an agreement -- even if it *was* made with a lowly human. *I* have honor."

"What about--"

"Lart, what do you think will happen when the demon population, as a whole, finds out this one is owned . . . by a *human*?"

Spike's eyes widened in true horror. **Bloody hell!** "You *can't* bloody let this get out!" Spike exclaimed.

Lart flung his hand out to the side, his attention never straying from his leader. Spike groaned as renewed pain exploded across his jaw, the barely knit bone recracking with the blow. **Great!** he thought sourly. **Yet *another* bruise. This one's gonna be a beaut!**

"Lart! Don't damage the human's property further."

Lart frowned, his eyes narrowing dangerously, and Spike suddenly wondered if it was going to come to blows between his two so-called owners. Unfortunately, Lart backed off almost immediately. "I ask forgiveness, M'lkaro."

"Granted, Lart. You are young, you need to learn the times it is appropriate to control your impulses."

Lart didn't reply, but it was plainly obvious to Spike that the younger demon still wasn't happy. The glare he sent the vampire's way made it abundantly clear hsn'sn't yet satisfied with the new arrangement.

TBC
Kiristeen
Kiristeen@kiristeen.com