*****
Flashback:
*****

And then Spike was there - in game-face, roaring and tearing into Angel. And Snow was released from the spell. The pure-blood surged to his feet, knocking the struggling vampires apart and away from Xander. Wesley grabbed Spike, Gunn grabbed Angel. Both were thrown aside like rag-dolls. Two Master Vampires in a full rage closed on each other. Or at least they tried to, their attempts were met and deflected as Nyssa and Asad stepped between them. Snow was no longer silent, but yelling. Ordering everyone out as he held Xander close, protecting him from getting hurt. Even in his weakened state of blood loss, Xander struggled to get to the two demon-faced vampires. His vampires.

"You let them go!" Xander yelled hotly, fighting the weakness that threatened to overwhelm him, against the immovable vampire holding him back.

"Enough!" Snow roared as Xander slumped into his arms.

"Don't hurt them," he whispered as the glow faded from his eyes and he slipped into unconsciousness.

"And so, it is done," intoned a new voice from the doorway. The stranger stepped into the room and surveyed each of the occupants. He smiled knowingly at Spike and Angel. The two were no longer trying to get at each other; they now strained toward Snow, and the unconscious form of Xander.

"Well, now that we've taken care of that, I suggest you all go and find something... *else* to do *someplace* else." There was a subtly threatening bell-like resonance in the newcomer's tone. It brooked no dispute or argument as to who was in charge. "You two as well," he told Spike and Angel pointedly as the others filed out of the room. Sandros studied his cousin across the distance while they left. Snow was placing Xander on the bed Angel had been resting on and placed a thin blanket over him.

"He will be fine cousin."

Snow turned and nodded. "Thank you, thank you for coming."

"How could I not?' the question was rhetorical. Sandros moved across the room to stand in front of the taller, silent, vampire. Snow moved to drop to his knees but the shorter vampire moved to stop him. "No, cousin, do not," he pulled Snow to his feet and hugged him. The silent vampire returned the embrace and then they both turned to study the unconscious mortal.

"He is young."

"Hmm."

"A man, yet still a boy."

"But he is strong," Sandros commented, holding his hand palm down over Xander's brow. "It is good that you sent word. The Hegemony was becoming concerned."

They moved away from Xander, crossing the large room toward the door.

*****
POV: Angel
*****

How was it possible that all of this had happened? Angel didn't know. The last thing he remembered clearly, had been sitting down with a mug of blood and the reports from the day's investigations. Then he'd woken up to pain and madness and nothing made sense after that. He didn't know where he was or where he'd been. He only remembered pain and despair and wanting it to end.

And not being able to do anything. No matter which way he'd turned, they had been there, holding him with promises - with a grip strong enough to make love appear paltry. They had stood between him and madness - despair, giving up - death. Bottomless brown eyes, glowing with inner fire, love, passion, pain. Those eyes had kept him anchored - held him. And he had come back to himself and found them real and holding him still; offering to fulfill the promise.

The blood had been vibrant, rich, strong; full of redemption. For countless years he had yearned toward redemption, searched endlessly, relentlessly. And it had always been right there, right in front of him, looking out from behind those wondrous brown eyes, waiting to be noticed. How could he have not noticed it?

It wasn't as if he didn't know Xander was there. Angel had been aware of the boy almost from the first, on some level - some instinct. A part of him had wanted Xander Harris and now he was his. Xander had bound Angel to him an in doing so, became the source of his redemption. Something so powerful and important, housed within something as fragile as Xander.

He moaned the name as his consciousness swam. His head was killing him. He pushed the pain aside and reached for that connection. And found Spike.

*****
POV: Spike
*****

Spike was in a towering rage. He'd never been as angry, or as frightened as he'd been when he opened the door and saw his sire draining Xander. If he'd had a stake, Angel would be so much dust right about now.

"You soddin *poof*!" Spike snarled as they strode into the room the hall, "asshole!" Spike hissed.

Angel stopped and turned to face Spike. He moved slowly, as if he were in a daze and didn't have all of his wits back yet.

"What?" Angel's thoughts were confused. He was having a hard time piecing things together. Nothing seemed clear. And then it did, painfully clear. The clarity came with the blow. Spike hit him, unable to contain his anger any longer, and with Xander no longer in the vicinity, no chance of getting hurt, Spike lashed out.

Angel stumbled back from the blow, from Spike, who advanced on him. Relentless in his terrified fury, he rained blows down on his faltering sire. Spike railed at Angel, berated him. Condemned him for trying to kill Xander - his Xander.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean... I would never hurt him!" Angel defended himself. He would never hurt Xander. He cared about him, loved him.

"You love him? That's fucking rich! You love him. Even I wouldn't try and drain somebody I claimed to love!"

"I'm Sorry! I don't know what happened! What's happening? I don'..."

"I'll tell you then," Spike snapped, spittle flew from his mouth as he made and effort at calm. "You almost killed Xander. After everything we went through to save your sorry ass, and you turn around and try to drain my... my..."

"Wait. Stop." Angel put his hand on his head and closed his eyes.

~What the hell is going on?~

"That can't be."

"Oh believe me it is," Spike informed him.

"I was not trying to KILL Xander! He... he offered his blood, he..."

That statement made Spike stop, like running into a brick wall. "Xander is *mine*," the blonde growled.

"Wes, man, shouldn't we be doing something here?" Wesley looked at Gunn as if he'd lost his mind.

"Have you lost your mind?" there is no, and I mean NO way, I'm getting between two vampires trying to lay claim to the same human."

"What?!!" All eyes turned toward Wesley, "it would appear to me that that is the case. The Scoobies did say that Xander gave Spike blood, just before he removed the chip."

"Wh-what? Xander removed the chip?" Angel was loosing his tentative grip on reality.

"Yeah, the whelp removed the chip, or the PTB did it through him, either way, it's gone and Xander's mine."

"Yeah, well he offered himself to me. He offered and I accepted, Xander is *MINE*, Spike, and if you ever get between me and mine again, I'll... I'll stake you."

"Oi fuck you, ya wanker. You are so lucky I don't have a stake right now..."

*****

*****

Spike was on the verge of launching another physical assault. The door swung open and the two vampires swept into the room. They came to a stop at the edge of the large carpet showing the design of the double-helix within a circle. The floor at the edge of the carpet, at first appearance looked to be a painted mosaic but upon closer inspection Wesley realized that the floor was actually made up of millions of tiny, polished, glass-like squares, fitted closely together.

Spike's ire instantly shifted to the Asian pure-blood vampire. "For you I'm willing to break my word. If you hurt my human, I'll rip your fucking head off and piss down your neck, mate," Spike growled, shifting into game-face. Angel was instantly by his side. If Spike thought something was a threat to Xander, then Angel agreed without question. He could sense his Childe's fear and anger at the pure-blood through their bond. Because of Xander, that bond was stronger, and would grow stronger still. Once they claimed him, Xander would be as connected to the two vampires as they were to each other.

Snow considered them calmly. He raised his hand and it started glowing the same way Xander's hand had glowed when he'd shattered Angel's prison into so much powdered glass-dust. Angel growled at the threat to his Childe and started to advance.

"Stop," Sandros spoke sharply, "Snow, quit playing around and put that out. And would you please find our guest something to wear."

There was a discreet knock on the large wooden door inlaid with an intricate design of smelted obsidian ore. Asad moved to admit a servant bearing a tray of refreshment. Another servant entered behind him carrying a length of crimson silk which she presented to Angel with a deep bow.

Spike rolled his eyes as Angel pulled on the flowing robe. "Friggin *poof*," Spike hissed as Angel smoothed non-existent wrinkles from the crimson silk. Gunn shook his head and Wesley coughed while pulling off his glasses in a classic *Giles cleaning his already spotless lens'* maneuver. As a group, the four men turned and faced the pure-blood vampires who stood watching them with different levels of interest and amusement.

Snow stepped forward and speaking in a deep ceremonial tone introduced his companion, Sandros, who held the ruling chair of the Vampire Hegemony, the arcane sect of the Vampire Nation.

The four had been studying the stranger since his arrival, taking the creature in. Sandros had an unearthly beauty; a statue craved from the finest alabaster by the hand of a master, with the kind of fine-boned, ascetic face that looked ageless, no sign of wrinkling except around the eyes - laugh lines. There was a permanent worry line between his brows. His hair was dark auburn, thick and long and he had a body that would put a Greek statute to shame - it all worked together to make his appearance confusing - young, old, and hard to read. Sandros liked it that way. He was also known to be aloof and remote. Add bottomless eyes the color of polished topaz, eyes that seemed to look right through you, and high cheekbones and a chin stubborn enough to out wait time, and you had one of the single most striking vampires they had seen. A demented angel, as if knowing too much could drive one mad.

Sandros considered the group with his eerily light, topaz eyes. Asad and Nyssa immediately moved to stand before the strange vampire and folded to their knees. In a show of respect for his wisdom, power, and age, the two bent forward to touch their foreheads to the floor. On the third genuflection, the two remained with their heads pressed to the floor until Sandros gave them leave to rise.

The vampire took one of the tiny glasses of blood-cordial and moved to take a seat among the cushions scattered across the floor. He motioned for the others to do likewise, and when everyone had taken a seat Sandros spoke again.

"How much do they know?" he asked Snow. Snow began to speak. He told them of Xander's visit into the realm of the Powers, how Xander had been allowed to look into the Fountain of Revelation and what he had seen.

Creation being torn asunder by Darkness; the Champions who rose to oppose the evil and restore the balance - The Chosen. He told them what was coming, what was taking shape. Darkness was already loose; it had reached out tendrils and drawn Nomac to it, convincing him he was working according to his own design. Darkness was always present; the balance wouldn't exist without it. Nomac had gone to Sunnydale after the Child of Chaos.

He revealed their true natures then, Angel, Spike, and Xander. Xander understood his role, who he really was, and his destiny and duty as one of The Chosen, there were always three - The Child of Chaos, law, un-law, and neutrality; The Shadow Warrior; The Shield of Light.

Xander had already set his feet on the path; he had chosen The Shield of Light - William "Spike" Bloody. In taking up the role of Defender, Spike had been bound to Xander's cause the moment he accepted his blood. Xander knew, within himself that as his Shield, Spike would need to be *whole* in order to protect him and towards that end had removed the chip; Spike was now soul-anchored to Xander because of that bond. That connection had begun Xander's Becoming.

The Shadow Warrior was revealed - Liam "Angel-us" O'Riley. Angel was Xander's Avenging Sword. The Shadow Warrior was the balance between Light and Dark - his soul and demon, in that way he was Xander's match, in that Xander was an Elemental and possessed a soul and a supernatural entity. Angel's demon was likewise, bound and anchored to Xander, thus making them both *complete*. Some of these things had been pre-ordained, but all was not as it should be.

There had always been three Chosen, but now there seemed to be more. Something had changed and Xander had made his choices based on that unknown factor, by choosing Spike instead of the intended Shield of Light, Buffy Summers. It was Buffy who was to have been the Shield - thus her humanity and power for good - her soul, was to have been the force to bind and anchor The Chosen. The moment the danger to Xander had manifested, Buffy had begun to take up her role as the Shield of Light. She was already experiencing the changes of Becoming. Willow had been another unexpected Chosen as well. It had been the Elemental part of Xander that had chosen her - as with Spike, building his own pack in a sense. In order to ensure his purpose, the Elemental Xander had bound Willow during its time of control over the body. It had foreseen that Willow would be a needed ally and power in the upcoming battle. And again, when the need arose, Willow had started to change, to Become. The bindings placed on her magical ability had been nullified and expanded the moment Xander removed the restraints from his chosen Defender. Only the Powers knew the reason William had been chosen. He was bound to *Their* purpose, and they were not revealing what that was.

Angelus and Spike had accepted and been bound by Xander, now Angel and William must also be bound and likewise they must bind Xander. In doing so, they would anchor the three faces of Chaos - Xander would Become; Liam would Become; William would Become.

Both vampires reflected on how things worked out - that they were each getting their heart's secret desire, the other two males.

*****
POV: Spike
*****

A lot of things were coming clear. Things Cordelia had babbled and hinted about during that first encounter. The Powers had a purpose, had decided that Spike was to become *Their* new Champion. That was his Sire's current role with said Powers. What did that mean? They had chosen Spike but Angel was the Champion now, did it mean Spike was to be Angel's replacement at some point? If so, then what of Angel, his Sire? Was he going to lose Angel? if he was the new Champion then what else could it mean. The PTB had already bound him to their purpose when they chose him as Cordelia's replacement, wasn't that enough? They had taken Cordy and given Angel Spike, only to later take away Angel? Spike didn't think he could endure loosing Angel twice.

And what about Xander? He was Chosen - The Child of Chaos - bound to Angel on another level, completely different from Spike. Xander had chosen *him* instead of Buffy. But what did that mean for Buffy, for Xander? What? What? And WHAT? Too many questions, not enough damn answers.

***** POV: Angel *****

Now he understood the war he had been in. the internal struggle of SELF. Xander. The boy was his. Finally. All was as it should be. Somewhere deep inside, in the very core of his divided being, they had known; that he was The Shadow Warrior. The knowledge had come with the first glimmer of Xander Harris' presence. That had been the root of their fascination with the boy. Angel simply thought it had been lust, not his but Angelus'. Later he had accepted that the lust was his, the desire belonged to Angelus. That had been a strong blow, a hard realization to face about himself. Angelus had become aware of Xander and his every action had been attempts to protect Xander, what was his. In the only way he had known how. Angel had not understood, he was the soul, the conscious that tempered the dark within. Angelus had put distance between temptation and himself. He had understood that much. That if he claimed Xander before it was time, before Xander had chosen, then Xander would have begun to change before he was ready, before there was a true need. So Angel had gone to LA to keep Xander safe. Now it was time, time for him to take up his place, his role; time to take up his sword and let The Shadow Warrior Become. Xander had chosen, that meant the time had come.

Angel had recognized Buffy, that she was also Chosen. There had been no awareness of Spike. Spike wasn't an original Champion. He had been chosen by Xander. Why? Because Spike was bound to Angel, that had to have something to do with it, didn't it? There had always been only three Champions. What had changed? Why hadn't Xander chosen Buffy? And Spike, Angel had always wanted him, Angelus wanted him back. And Willow, a Chosen of The Chosen. Wait! Willow was a Chosen of The Chosen - by Xander. Spike was also a Chosen of The Chosen - but by who? Liam. They had chosen Spike when they bonded with him. Xander had chosen Liam's Chosen as his Shield; another choice in response to the constant shift of possibilities.

Xander had a Chosen. Liam had a Chosen. Did that mean Buffy had one as well? A Trinity within a Trinity. Who was the third of the third? Liam-Xander-William, Buffy - Willow - ?

Angel had another thought, if Spike had Become William, then he had better get used to being Liam, he could already feel the changes, he was Becomeing. Once they bound Xander to them, they would all Become. They would have a chance. They had to do this as soon as possible.

***** End Flashback *****

After that intense and revelatory session, Spike had dropped another bomb. Cordelia really was dead, but not gone, not completely. She was a higher being. Spike had visions, Cordelia-visions. Angel thought it was funny - Cordy hounding Spike with visions, from various shopping malls yet. The laugh value was endless. Of course, with the visions came the curse. For Cordy it had been unbearable pain. As a human, she hadn't been strong enough to endure the psychic strain. For Spike it was Cordelia, she was his *pain*. As a demon, Spike was strong enough, mentally and psychically. But in its own twisted way, the curse persevered, a price to be paid for the privilege of foresight.

Cordy had paid a visit from downtown Chicago, which indicated that was their current location. She was always near, shopping in Spike's vicinity. Her information had sent them on a wild goose chase that hadn't been a waste of time, not by any means. When Angel and the others returned to the complex they had gone straight to Sandros. They told the vampire what they had learned on their information gathering jaunt; of Jared Nomac and his plan. Now they knew his true nature. They knew who their enemy was, who had been Chosen by Darkness. The method by which he planned to free that evil into the world, not knowing that he was but a pawn on the board. Jared thought he was calling the shots. He was but the manifestation of Evil, *created* to house the corruption to be released. Darkness was a wily opponent, working through the greed and self-interest of others. Damaskinos - the fool who created the perfect host for evil - Nomac.

Spike had never trusted the pure-bloods from go, and they had proven to him that they were more untrustworthy than ever. Who was to say that Damaskinos wouldn't try and use Xander for his own means? He had taken the entire contents of Lilah's lab, and all the salvageable data. Instead of destroying what they found, the Vampire Nation had confiscated it for their own use. Not only that, they were the reason any of them were stuck in this mess to begin with. It was the Shadow Cabinet and their experiments that had destroyed Jared in their single-minded desire to rule the world, as if they had a right.

Their need for supremacy had turned Damaskinos' own son into some mutated walking, talking, self-replicating virus, a plague on the whole of mankind. And right now he was out there, destroying their personal interest in said whole. Nomac had gone to Sunnydale with the sole goal of capturing Buffy and locking her inside of one of those chambers Angel had just escaped from. He wanted her DNA to build his army, he already had Angel's, so what if his father had stolen his first efforts, it was almost a given that they would have more. Lilah Morgan was involved. Lilah Morgan meant Wolfram & Hart. The lawyer may not have been working with the firm's knowledge beforehand, but you could just bet that she would find a way to manipulate the law firm into helping and protecting her now. It wasn't likely that she would go to Nomac, not after having lost his endless supply of Angel, not to mention ranks for his army.

They were anxious to do something about the situation, they had friends in Sunnydale that were fighting against something they didn't understand and could have no hope of defeating on their own. They needed, *had*, to do something and do it now. Spike got vocal; taking care of Xander was their job. They were his Chosen, would be his *mates*, they wanted Xander with them.

Sandros would not be swayed. Xander could not go back to Sunnydale. Not yet. The binding must be completed. Xander must be able to take care of himself should the need arise. In his current state, Xander wasn't physically strong enough to endure what was to come. Sandros informed them that the Hegemony had looked to the ancient mysteries regarding this and had determined that Xander was to be incepted. This would be done by Snow. In an ancient Vampiric ceremony, Xander would be infused with a bit of the vampire's blood, giving him the endurance resources needed to endure being bound to his Chosen Mates. The biding was the only thing that would ultimately protect Xander from the Dark. Nomac was the Chosen of Darkness. He had wanted to bind Xander to his Champion and himself. If that had happened, all would have been lost. Once they Became, Darkness would no longer be able to bind Xander to its purpose. There was no guarantee that they would be able to stop what was coming, but they would be able to face all possibilities.

***** POV: Lilah December 12 03:22 *****

Lilah stayed on the move. At this point it seemed the safest thing to do. Get out of San Francisco as fast as hell and stay *away* from LA. That would be the first place they looked. Thinking that she would be stupid enough to run to Holland and the others for help, her, Lilah Morgan. Like hell she would, no she might need those idiots later. She considered her options for a safe place, they were almost nil. Lilah thought about leaving the country but didn't know where to go. How far was far enough? She had no idea how far that little creepy-skinned freak's influence reached. She didn't doubt it was far, though. Where could she go? It had to be someplace the monster ~shudders~ wouldn't expect her to be.

Lilah took one final look in the mirror. She didn't recognize the woman starring back. Her own mother and father wouldn't have known *this* Lilah either. The label on the bottle hadn't lied when it said Bombshell Blonde. She'd even done her eyebrows, making her lashes all that much denser, darker. With this hair color, she didn't even need mascara; her lashes appeared so damn dark against it. And her skin didn't look so much washed out as *iced* over. Lilah couldn't decide if she looked like a tacky hooker or an ice-queen, literally. Which ever, she didn't look like Lilah Morgan, and that was good enough for her.

The snow-haired woman gathered the empty bottle of hair color, peroxide, and the other trappings, and placed them into a brown paper bag. After a nice long hot shower she dried off quickly and then wiped down the bathtub and faucets before taking everything into the main room. Ignoring the roaches and other vermin scuttling along the cracked baseboard holding the cheap panel against walls she didn't want to even consider contemplating, Lilah quickly pulled on the surplus army fatigues, two pair of sweat socks and a pair of scuffed up doc Martians. She had really hated doing that to a perfectly good pair of shoes, but refused to wear anything that had been on someone else's cheesy feet. She'd spent just as much time on the brand new pants, giving them that used look with a couple of bricks she found lying on the fire escape. The plain white t-shirt and the pilot flight-jacket went unmolested.

With another quickly executed sweep of the motel room, Lilah gathered up the remains of her old life and dumped it into the shopping bag. She hoisted the backpack into place, grabbed the shopping bag, and stepped out of the cheap motel, onto Eddy Street. She was smack in the middle of San Francisco's Tenderloin area - pimps, hookers, hustlers, drag queens and XXX Adult bookstores on every corner and one someplace in the middle of the block on some streets, as well. She didn't stand out at all. Without a backward glance, she began walking down the street, swinging the shopping bag and letting it fly into the shopping cart of a homeless woman wearing rags, as she passed. When she got to the corner, Lilah turned onto Market Street and continued walking.

*****

*****

It was decided that yes, the scoobies needed to know what they were up against. That task was given to Wesley, Gunn, Nyssa, and Asad, who would leave for Sunnydale immediately. Angel and Spike would return with Xander when they were ready, there was still a lot to be done besides Xander's inception and binding. There was training. Xander needed time to train and learn to use his power. That was Snow's task, between he and Sandros, they would make sure that Xander was instilled with as much as possible. Xander would be forced to hone his fighting skills in the field, they didn't have the months needed to bring him to the fighting skill level they felt he needed.

"What exactly does that mean?" Angel demanded. No matter what they said, he wasn't going to let them harm Xander in any way. If that happened, he and his Childe would *Become* alright, they would *BECOME* the biggest bite in the ass the Vampire Nation ever felt. They hadn't been called the Scourge of Europe for nothing.

Sandros gave Angel an impudently, appraising look, he shocked them with a surprisingly angelic and boyish grin, "Oh, just that we plan to cram all of this into the span of a week or two. Then we strap on our swords and go take a look at this abomination."

Snow turned and gave his cousin a surprised look. The sudden expression on his otherwise stoically blank face was shocking enough to pull a gasp from Nyssa and a peal of bell-like laughter from Sandros.

"You didn't really think I was going to let you three," Spike growled, "sorry, you *five* have all the fun did you?" Sandros asked with that demented angel look, the one that caused a range of reactions throughout the ranks of the Vampire Nation as a whole - from lust to out right TERROR!HELPSOMEBODYHELP!

"Yeah, great whatever, want ta know when I can see me pet," Spike grouched petulantly.

*****
Part 12:

POV: Xander ~ December 14, 2002

An air of festival vibrated in the air; they all shone; these supernatural, hyper-natural creatures. Strange vibrations filled the air; ululating cries swirled around their heads. Otherworld melodies. The breeze against his skin was cool, intoxicating with the smell of herbs and garlands, petals of strange flowers crushed beneath his bare feet.

His hair was like a dark hood, sleek and shiny from the oils worked into him � hair and skin. Fragrant with crushed night blooms. Exultation fountained through Xander. He felt like a king.

Shallow steps, red, leading up to the huge doors of the Hegemony Temple; petals danced through the air like confetti as the gathered lined the way and cast handfuls into the air as the three approached. As soon as the doors sung open and they entered the large chamber, Xander felt as if he were walking upside down. He focused on his breathing to keep the nausea at bay, where it belonged, in his imagination. He felt drunk. Nothing mattered except what approached.

They walked into the solemn and sacred gloom of the temple. It took several moments for Xander�s eyes to adjust to the dim light, but soon, the high vaulted ceiling and walls materialized before him, shifting forward, out of the gloom. Tiers of seats reared into the shadows on both sides; from flank entrances the pure-bloods filed into their places. Voices were muted, but the whispering quiet of energy could not hide the mounting fever, the heights of expectation implied by half seen movements up ahead.

Xander stood between Snow and Sandros at the threshold. Light streamed in behind them, dust-moted bars, glittering with hints of gold and red. Gilded metal flashed in the dimness beyond. Sandros lifted a long, carven staff from a bracket by the door. He struck the marbled floor three times and the gathered rose, rumbling to its feet. A sound, a soft crooning rose as they advanced among them. And then it was a wordless, soundless, vibrating ululation, Xander�s skin prickled, voices ringing like clarions as they drew him forward.

Xander felt as if he were a dream, someone else�s dream, carried forth on the strength of the tuneless cry. They came to a place where patterns had been chalked onto the floor. A hand on his shoulder gently pushed him down to his knees. Red dust motes danced around his robe, and Sandros moved forward.

�Today we witness the inception of Alexian, the Chosen. He is deemed fit by myself, Sandros � dan � Xian, Hierarch of the Hegemony, and Snow � dan � Xian.� Sandros raised his arms above his head and the soft black cloth of his sleeves slipped back. Henna patterns were painted on his skin; designs similar to those beneath Xander�s knees. �Does this inception take place?� he demanded. �Yea!� the response shook the walls. They blessed him with fire, with water, earth and air � elemental. His robe was pulled to below his shoulder and they wrote on his skin. Henna again, aromatic and gritty. Sandros� voice was guttural; Xander couldn�t understand what he said.

~They want my blood, they want my blood~

But he knew the opposite was true. They wanted him to have theirs, this was their ceremony. Xander�s was yet to come. Hours later, moments later, two acolytes, sparkling in samite and red/gold, came out of the smoky dark at the back of the temple. Soft cloth fell to their feet, giving them the appearance of gliding like ghosts; one carried a shallow goblet; the other carried the consecrated Inceptor.

Cool hands brushed his bare shoulders and Xander shivered under their weight. He was lifted to his feet. Light flared above Sandros, making the dark rafters of the temple clearly visible. They were graphically detailed with inlaid gargoyles laughing and screaming down, forever in silence of all that they beheld. Tall metal stands made a polished avenue, topped with filigreed bowls of incense; smoke so heavy it wafted down to the floor in matted swirls. At the end, a white table gleamed like marble. Xander was lifted to the stone table. Cold and heat bit into him, caressing like tongues.

�Welcome, Alexian � The Chosen � Child of Chaos.� It was impossible to describe his voice, to differentiate it from the heavy silence and distant tolling of bells. It was full of music, dark tones that thrilled lightly; full of power and blood. Like night descending, black drapes of velvet dropped softly. There was a sound like falling snow, not sound at all but still huge in its magnitude, more a sensation. Everything else fell into shadow behind the velvet.

Slanted gold flecked topaz eyes lasered straight to Xander�s soul, his being. Fire seemed to burn in the long auburn tresses, it flickered over Sandros� skin. Snow took Xander�s robe. �Do not be afraid,� he whispered softly. Xander shivered. �You know what we are going to do?� Xander blinked and nodded his reply. �Are you here of your own free will?�

Xander�s voice was like wind and fire when he spoke his �yes� with un-shatter-able conviction. Snow nodded and he too, turned to Sandros, sky-clad like Xander, and gave his affirmation.

Sandros took the sharp tool, a thin, hollow, tube, one end angled to razor sharpness. The acolytes took Xander�s arm, his veins stood out like cords. Something sharp stroked through his skin, an unexpected shard in the arcane aura. His blood flowed into the chalice, where it was placed at the other end of the tube. When the shallow dish was half full, both were taken away. The round puncture in Xander�s tanned arm remained open. The act was repeated on Snow. His blood filled the metal goblet to just below the rim. The chalice was removed and the blood flow ceased.

Sandros took the bowl of the chalice between his glowing hands and brought it to his face. He spoke words in the ancient vampire tongue over the contents, his voice was like frost. Then Snow was taking the cup and draining half the contents. His eyes glowed like hematite stone, polished into incandescence. He held the cup to Xander�s lips. The younger man drank until they took the cup away. The thin tube was placed over the hole in his arm and the thick, purplish/red blood flowed; seeping into the hole and Xander�s veins.

Fire and ice poured into his body. Fever consumed him as the pure, vampiric blood raged through his body, altering him in small ways. There was no pain, just sensation as he sank into the whirlpool within.

*****

*****

Xander woke later, his fever was gone. He felt alive and full of energy, vibrant. His eyes hurt a bit and Snow turned off the overhead lights, letting the room fall into semi-dark shadows playing tag with the soft flicker of silvery candlelight.

�Alexian?� Snow lifted him from the bed and carried Xander to the pit of cushions across the room. He stripped and changed the bedding and then bundled Xander back into the clean warmth. Xander was aware of minute pinpricks, like flashes of light, darting around inside of him. It was over. He was back in his own chamber. �Alexian, can you hear me?�

Xander couldn�t move; his throat felt welded shut. Snow pressed a beaker against his lips. It tasted like sugared water, warm, and his shriveled mouth turned to mush. �How long?� Xander croaked.

�Six hours, give or take?� Snow wiped his brow with a soft cloth, damp and fragrant with juniper. �Do you have any pain?�

�No, I feel... antsy? Like I wanna *do* something, a whole lot of something�s.�

Snow nodded. �That is the power of the blood,� He went on to explain to Xander what it meant. The blood was a part of him now. He was a part of Snow, like his Childe. Its qualities, vampiric strength, speed, enhanced senses � a reservoir of endurance and resources. Snow told him he would feel better in the morning. He continued to caress Xander�s forehead with his cool fingers and the damp cloth until the amber flecked brown eyes closed.

*****

*****

Xander woke again. A noise, but he didn�t know what, or where it had come from. He looked around at the chamber for a moment or two. The polished stone walls, hung with tapestries. A fire burned somewhere to his left. It was all extremely vivid in his vision. Itchiness crawled across his skin and Xander scratched at his stomach. He sat up and the room tilted, making him dizzy for a moment, but the surge of energy and strength anchored him immediately. His vision cleared. The bed was littered with brownish, peely stuff. It fell into dust when he touched it.

Xander felt energized, weird, light and vibrant, but good. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, digging his toes into the plush carpet at his bedside. He made his way to the adjoining room, his bathroom, and relieved himself. He bathed, washing his hair and changed limbs. When he was clean and dry, Xander returned to the main chamber.

Drawn by the shine, Xander went straight to the mirror hung on the wall near the bed, framed in intricately detailed designs. Golden light spun into his eyes and Xander raised his hand. His golden hand. He was suddenly afraid to look. His chest swelled with emotion. Snow�s essence burned through his form. He had been refashioned, remolded; he was still physically the same yet improved, refined. His muscles had a finer etching of definition. He was leaner, sleek and polished. His skin was flawless, like a new-born babe�s. Satiny soft, almost pore-less, buffed to a golden glow that was even now beginning to fade down into a deep golden-tan. Burnished; he looked burnished.

His eyes sparkled lively from within the shadow of his thick brows and dense lashes. Their dark, chocolaty depths hummed with an amber sheen. His body was hairless, except for the thick mop on his head, denser, and a bit longer, sparkling with chocolate depth; the fine silk dusting under his arms, and the sleek perfection of dark silk between his legs; a perfect triangle of soft, spun, black gold fading into a baby fine dusting of silk across his smooth scrotum, narrowing down into a fine line along his perineum, trailing toward his hairless anus.

A sound behind him and Xander spun quickly, faster than he�d ever moved in his life. Sandros stood admiring him. �He is beautiful, cousin.�

Snow ducked his head with embarrassment. �He was always beautiful. This is but a reflection of the inner being. I had nothing to do with it.�

�You are *so* wrong about that,� Xander said. His voice was richer, smooth like honey. He fidgeted from foot to foot, something tugged at him. �Your blood...�

�Flows within you now,� Sandros finished. �In a sense, Snow is your Sire.� Xander blinked.

�Is that why I feel...�

A bit self-consciously, Snow nodded. Sandros elbowed him in the ribs and the taller vampire spoke again. �Alexian, my Childe, I greet you.� And Xander was across the room. Snow wrapped him in a hug and Sandros beamed. The demented angel face amused by the look of surprised consternation and wonder on his cousin�s countenance.

*****

*****

Three days, but it felt longer, like it had been three months, or years. Time mattered not, Snow had told him. Soon, Sandros had promised. First, he must prepare. Exercises Xander had thought silly, only until he began to understand.

The deep breathing had been first, the method by which he was able to clear his mind � utterly. It had never been possible; the mind was always active, full of thoughts tumbling over each other. In his case, it was more like a super-ball going wild within the confines of a very small room.

Focus on only his breath. In for a count of ten, filling the lungs � hold for a five count and then a controlled exhale � another ten count in which time he was to empty his lungs completely. The worse part had been waiting; he was not to draw the next breath until another count of ten had passed. Xander thought he would go mad. His heart raced. His lungs screamed, demanded that they be filled. His body trembled � anxiety. Unexplainable since he knew ten seconds was really a very short span of time. He couldn�t die from ten measly little seconds of not having air.

The control, the focus required to slowly draw that next breath, a steady flow inward, when all he wanted to do was gasp and pant rapidly. Xander�s awareness spiraled down into a tight focus on his breathing � his mind silenced everything else. The sensation of light-headedness became euphoric. Xander drifted, held suspended in that vibrating silence.

He could hear Snow�s quiet voice. A smooth sound, *comfortable*, in his mind, ears, vibrating the sizzle of flowing sensation moving through the fibers of his being.

:{�Good, Alexian�}:

:{�Good yes this feel right,�}: Xander thought back.

:{�That is because you are in your natural state. This *distance* you perceive, is the coming together of self. Melding into the wholeness of unity.�}:

:{�Then shouldn�t things seem, I don�t know, closer?�}: he could sense the smile from the other.

:{�In time, little one. You will learn to control your *focus*. Presently your awareness is wide open, you perceive all at once.�}:

:{�I think I understand, like being in a tunnel then falling into open space...�}: he wasn�t sure if it made sense, but it felt like it did.

:{�It does, your analogy is perfect. You are in the open now. As you learn focus, it will become easier, your being is learning, feeling the essence of self as well as the power.�}:

:{�How long will this last?�}: he liked the way he felt, like floating in a womb of energy and warmth. It infused his being.

:{�You are Becoming, Alexian, once the process has reached conclusion, always.�}:

�And when?�

�Patience,� Snow spoke softly as he opened his eyes. He smiled.

�But...�

Sandros snickered. �Give in cousin the boy has a need, a strong pull toward his intended.�

Snow frowned. �Please,� Xander gave him puppy dog eyes. Sandros held back another gust of mirth. He was truly enjoying seeing his cousin unraveled. Snow treated Xander like a precocious infant, his very own offspring, and in a way, Xander was, by all intents and purposes, the inception made Snow and Xander Sire and Childe, a bond had developed between the two.

Snow had always been a loner, distant and silently remote. He was intensely passionate, his feelings and emotions ran deep. He was single and had no children of his own. Now he had Xander, a focus for those intense feelings. Xander was like a little brother, a nephew and son all at once, precocious and Snow found pleasure in indulging him, Xander found pleasure in the indulgence, the game of wrapping Snow around his finger and getting his way. He learned quickly and thrived. Snow was the father figure who was Father in every sense of the word. Xander had never experienced that intense father/son bond with his own dad. To have it in a creature like the pure-blood vampire was almost shattering in its intensity. It tore him apart and put him back together � tighter, a stronger weave of personality. Xander meshed and was consumed with joy and well-being in Snow�s care. There was a deep kind of love between them, due to the blood they had shared during the inception ceremony, making Snow protective yet indulgent of Xander. There was hardly any resistance he could maintain in the face of the boy�s wants and desires, not when Xander gave him that *look*.

�A short time then; remember the binding ceremony will be soon.�

�How soon?�

�Xander,� Snow admonished. Xander fell quite. When Snow called him Xander, it meant he was loosing patience. He sighed, �Alright.�

Xander grinned, �when?� he wanted them now.

�I will arrange it, you should eat and take rest now.�

�Thank you, Snow,� Xander said. He was tired, sleepy and still feeling light from the exercise. Food was brought and Xander ate his fill while the two pure-bloods discussed the next big event. Xander curled up near them, in the pit of cushions he felt most comfortable in, and drifted off to the sound of their soft voices and Snow�s gentle stroking of his hair.

*****

*****

�Xander,� the word was a whisper, soft. �Wakey, wakey, pet.�

Xander smiled and shifted. He encountered a smooth, hard coolness pressed along his left side. Cool fingers tickled across his bare shoulders. He recognized the light touch, the tingles racing through his body and awareness. Xander murmured his name, turned his head toward Spike. �Spike.� The blonde pressed closer, his cool nakedness washing over Xander.

�Yeah, pet, can you wake up for me, luv?�

�Mmm,� Xander answered. His head moved in the direction of coolness, his lips seeking contact. He kissed Spike�s arm. �M�wake.� Spike dipped his head for a fleeting kiss. �Where?� Xander breathed.

�Here,� came the whispered reply. Cool hardness along his right side, Angel. Fingers stroked down his spine, stopping at the waistband of the thing, baggy shorts Xander had on.

�Angel?� Xander questioned. He turned toward the disturbance in the air at his right.

�Yes, I�m here, Xan,� his large hand caressed Xander�s hair. Xander sighed. �Xander?�

�Hmmm?� his tongue flickered over Spike�s cool lips. Angel ran his fingers across Xander�s burnished shoulders. Xander pressed back against the larger vampire. He was sandwiched between cool hard bodies.

�Can I have a kiss too?�

Spike smiled at the tone in his Sire�s voice; tentative and slightly worried, afraid he might be denied. He loosened his hold, helping Xander to turn within the circle of his arms. Angel�s hands spanned Xander�s waist, brushing against Spike as Xander pressed against him. The brown eyes flickered open and Angel caught his breath.

�Xander, sweetheart, I�m sorry...� the rest of his words were cut off with the press of warm lips against his. Spike spooned up behind Xander as the two kissed. His fingers wormed between warmth and coolness, palm flat on Xander�s chest, thumb flickering back and forth over Angel�s perky nipple. All three groaned.

�Want you,� Xander sighed. His head fell beck to rest on Spike�s shoulder as both vamps nuzzled and licked his neck.

�Soon,� Angel promised. He slid his hands down to stroke Xander�s bottom, tickling Spike, who moaned and pressed closer, trapping Angel�s hands between Xander and himself. Angel raised his head to smile over at his Childe. Spike stuck out his tongue. �Come over here and do that, I dare you,� Angel mock growled. Spike raised himself up to lean across Xander�s body. He got as close as he could to Angel and stuck out his tongue. Xander continued to slither between them. His fingers twined with Spike�s, joining in the teasing play of Angel�s nipples. Angel darted his head forward and caught Spike�s wagging, pink tongue between his teeth, biting gently. Xander giggled as both vampires slid a hand up the leg opening of his baggy shorts.

They could smell his arousal, Xander could smell theirs. It made the air in the room heavy with intoxication. Xander flung his leg over Angel�s hip, giving both vampires better access to his lower half. Fingers stroked and caressed, teased and tickled.

�Hey, what about me?� Xander pouted. Angel and Spike let their kiss dissolve and both focused on their soon to be mate. Xander hummed and vibrated with need, his movements between them enticing. Spike groaned, his fingers joined Angel�s in their play between Xander�s legs. �Don�t wanna wait. Want you now,� Xander demanded. �Need you.�

�I know, pet, need ya too.�

�Then what?�

�Sandros said...�

�Xander says now,� he told them as they stroked his body, setting his skin aflame. He returned the favor.

�Xander, the ceremony.�

�But...�

�Shhh, love,� his complaints were silenced with kisses.

�Soon, baby, promise,� Angel groaned as Xander and Spike stroked his erection.

�It�s not fair. You two get to have fun. I want fun. I want you now, to hell with what Sandros says.�

�Xan,� Spike mewled as a hot hand wrapped around his cock. His hips rocked gently. Xander arched his neck, baring the golden-tanned column of flesh for them. Angel brought his face closer. He and Spike licked at each other�s mouths and faces as they tasted Xander�s skin.

�You�re mine,� Xander told them, �I�m yours. Why do I have to wait?�

They shifted him again, turning him so that he faced Spike. His shorts were removed, freeing his erection to add to the sticky dampness on Spike�s belly. Angel pressed his thick erection against Xander�s back; Spike slid his between Xander�s legs. Angel reached across Xander to stroke Spike�s pale body, caressing his back and ass as he rocked against Xander. Xander reveled in the power that was his, that they gave him as they explored his body, touching and learning the planes of each other.

�Please,� Xander moaned as Spike�s hand spanned his waist, settled on his ass and teased his heated flesh. Angel pulled them both closer, wedging his oozing cock between Xander�s sweaty cheeks. He and Spike shared a look of deep meaning and intent.

�He�s right,� Angel told his Childe, �Xander is ours.� He could feel Angelus melting into his awareness, demanding that he claim what was rightfully his.

�And you should give him what he wants...� Xander moaned. He turned his head for a kiss and Angel�s tongue lapped at his mouth, teased his moistness.

�I agree with the whelp,� Spike murmured as Xander dug his fingers into his flesh, gripping his shoulders while Angel stroked his ass. Xander�s warm hands moved to join Angel�s as the three squirmed together in the pit of cushions where they had found Xander napping.

No more words were spoken as they forgot everything except the touch and feel of each others bodies. They placed Xander on his back, each claiming a dusky nipple and Xander arched up into their mouths. Tongues trailed down his body, across his chest. Xander stretched languorously between them. He caught his breath when each took a leg and spread him, his rampant erection stood straight and proud, streamers of clear fluid leaking from the head. They moved lower, lips meeting on his shaft as they tongued him to the edge of orgasm.

�Inside, please, in me somebody,� Xander panted. They maneuvered his body again, lifting and placing him on top of Angel. Spike knelt between their splayed legs, stroking them both � Angel�s cock rising up from between Xander�s legs, just under his balls. Angel dragged in a hissing breath as Spike lowered his head and ran his fangs over them, nipping, careful not to draw blood yet. Xander humped the air, worked his ass in Angel�s lap. The sight of the two of them wound Spike up tight with tension in his middle. His cock jerked as he moved forward to stretch out on top of Xander. Angel and Xander both moved their hands to his pale globes, making him quiver as his demon cried to be let loose. Blue eyes flared yellow.

�Yess,� Xander and Angel hissed together. �Angel,� Xander moaned.

�Xander I don�t...�

�Please Angel, it will be alright, I promise.�

Angel closed his eyes and took a deep breath then he let go. His eyes flared gold and Spike stared down into the face of his true Sire � Angelus � tempered by the anchoring of Xander�s bond.

�Alex,� Angel-us growled.

�Oooh,� Xander moaned as Spike covered him, his lean hips pressed into Xander. The heat of his lover�s cock increased, scorching the lean blonde. They forgot about everything except the squirming bundle of heat between them.

�Beautiful,� Angel-us breathed against Xander�s shoulder. Spike whimpered as they began to stroke his back. Fingers caressed and scraped down his skin � cool and warm, shaping the curve of his buttocks. Spike spread his legs and worked his hips, sliding his drooling member along Xander�s length as fingers delved between his flexing cheeks, toyed with his buttocks and thighs; stroked his balls and teased his pucker. Spike flexed with tiny tremors as Xander stroked his lean muscled globes with hot sweaty hands and Angel�s fingers rubbed tiny circles against his pucker. Spike wanted Angel inside him, he wanted Xander inside of him.

They were swamping each other in desire. Xander took them to another level. �Share breath with me.� Spike parted his lips over Xander�s, letting his tongue slide inside where it was met by Xander�s. Spike drowned in that kiss. The kiss was different, invasive, reaching into the essence, the core. He could taste their souls and their demons. This was the meaning of *Sharing Breath*, now he understood what Sandros had been trying to explain. A kiss was nothing in comparison. They got mixed up in each other; Xander � a taste of rich chocolate, sunlight on fur, dark wings like shadow, and the tingle of ozone. William/Spike � a blast of frost across a carnelian-blue ocean, hints of fog and tombs filled with ink and parchment, the glimmer of soft candle light � smoky. Liam/Angel-us � the rush of a star across the velvet of night, earthy musk threaded with dark flames burning brightly, raw lust tempered in cold-fire.

Thoughts transferred between them with the flow of blood. A triad formed. Angel fed from Xander; Spike fed from Xander. Angel and Spike fed from each other, mixing their blood with Xander�s offering. Then they gave it back. Xander fed from their slit wrists, the blood cold and rich as it scorched through him like acid. He began to change again, the gift of his vampiric pure-blood inception. Eyes flared and burned amber, chocolate brown fire pulsing within their depths. Spike�s yellow-blue gaze was transfixed, Angel�s dark-ringed gold eyes were slightly glazed � both snared within Xander�s heady desire and rising passion. His mounting need.

He was shifted, turned and their blood burned at his opening, the gateway to his center � the core that needed to be touched. Angel held him while Spike eased inside Xander�s blood slick passage. Xander wrapped his legs around the lean waist as Spike began to stroke his insides. Angel moved behind Spike and slicked them both with blood. Then he was inside the tight, cold ring of muscle and Spike growled his pleasure. He pierced Xander with his icy-hot shaft and his razor sharp fangs lovingly, moving between Angel and Xander as they both fed from him. Xander sank his elongated incisors into Spike�s neck. No one had told him this would happen; knowledge came unbidden to his mind, letting him know that it was needed for their Becoming. A small part of him wondered if it would only be this once, or would he always be able match his lover�s sexual appetites, their sexual appetites. The concept added another level to their coming together. Becoming.

Angel fed from Spike and the blood flowed. It became an intricately beautiful, dance of intimacy; shifting limbs and bodies. Each being taken in turn; each acting as the chalice of blood from which the other two were quenched. Time became irrelevant. The dance continued. Angel-us/Xander/Spike; Xander/Spike/Angel-us; Spike/Angel-us/Xander. And so on, until they were so saturated in each other�s essence there were no barriers, no distinction of self. They Became � One.

The call. High above, they were drawn out of their bodies, to condense into a star, each saw the others eyes in the light � souls nebulous, and tumbling light. Then they were plunged; descent, ascent, through dark gulfs and summitless cliff heights. They were the only illumination within the obsidian dark of a frozen night sky. No time; the limitless yawing of aeons. Speeding toward, and away from, something. Brightly incandescent. Upside-down, inside-out. The starless dark of infinity lit only by their blinding presence as they smoldered on the lip of the abyss that was pulsing, nameless delight. They roared a sound of silence, like the wind howling as they fell over the edge into final consummation. Their seed spilled forth, fragrant and richly copious; forcing them back into the flesh.

Quivering limbs, soft moans, whimpers and sighs, comforting and satiated growls. The sound of skin sliding against skin as they sank down into the pit of cushions. Xander used the last of his energy to place his head on the broad chest of his dark-haired mate, lulled and comforted by the soft purr vibrating through Angel�s body. Spike flat out refused, insisting that vampire did *not* purr, as he snuggled up to Xander and nuzzled his cheek against the still warm, damp back. Moments later, they were all drifting in the arms of sleep. Xander wore a smile of content and satiated exhaustion, mirrored by both of his purring mates.

*****

*****

�I told you this would happen,� Snow�s tone was quietly smug, �there goes your silly ceremony.�

�As it should be, cousin. They *Belong* to *each other*. Their Becoming was for them, between them and them alone.�

Snow�s sense of smugness evaporated. �You *planned* for this to happen?�

Sandros gave him that demented angel look, reminding his cousin he was one of those people who really did know too much. �Of course I did... the boy is *your* Childe, after all.� Sandros laughed softly � the sound underscored with the dark sound of bells in the distance as he vanished down the hall. Snow watched him leave, scratching his head. He turned back to the scene beyond the open door and had to shake his head at the sleeping trio. A silly smile graced his face, a Sire happy for his Childe�s happiness.

�So young, still just a baby and already mated.� Then the pure-blood had to laugh at himself softly as he pulled the door closed and moved away.

*****
tbc