*****

"Don't worry about it Xander," I tell him. "Everything will be fine." I have a plan. It might look a whole hell of a lot like 'making it up as I go along,' but it's a plan. Xander leaves the room, without argument--a minor miracle. Xander has 'authority issues,' as Cordelia might say, which I'd love to blame on Spike--or the demon--but which are most likely caused by the human version's I-hate-all-things-Angel Issues.

I wait until I can hear the door to Xander's bedroom close. And assume that he's actually *gone* to his room, and not just closed the door to make me *think* he's gone to his room. The vampire version is not as sneaky as he likes to think he is. Now for the second part of the plan, which involves convincing Spike to go along with all of this. I smirk at Spike. "So, I don't have the balls?"

Spike just glares at me, and growls. I get up and squat by my extremely pissed off grand child. When I take off the gag, Spike lunges toward me, snapping. I move back quickly, and kick him in the ribs. "He's mine, you wanker! I'll fucking kill you for this!" He screams. Somehow, I don't feel threatened. By the bulge in his pants, and the scent of his arrousal, Spike had obviously enjoyed what he'd seen.

I let him scream and thrash around some more before pinning him. Knee in his lower back, a hand on the back of his neck, and my other hand over his wrists. Spike still struggles, trying to buck me off, without much success. "Watch it Spike, you're turning me on," I tell him. He goes still, which is pretty much what I expected him to do.

This moment feels to me like it could be--with a few changes of scenery and costume--any one of our past conflicts. The good ones, where we ended up fucking each other's brains out. I yank up on his wrists, and he grunts in pain. "Doesn't look like he wants to be yours, Spike," I tell him in my most mocking tone.

"I'll kill you, and take him back!" Spike shouts hoarsely, trying to buck me off. I yank hard on his wrists again--which he had to have known was coming--and he lets out another grunt of pain.

Keeping a steady pressure on his wrists, I lean forward, and bite him hard on the shoulder. He groans this time, but not in pain. "Maybe he doesn't *want* to be yours," I point out reasonably.

"He's mine you thief!"

"Thief would imply he's property, Spike--if that's how you saw him, no wonder he left."

"Why do you care, anyway?" Spike shoots back. "Not like he's got a soul to save."

"Yeah, and who's fault is that?" I ask.

"Red's and the Slayer's," he snarls back. "Red wouldn't give him a soul, and all the Slayer wanted was to stake him." Spike's voice sounds raw now, and not just from his earlier screaming and growling. "He's all I--he's *mine* damn you, and I'm gonna kill you for messing with his head!" He renews his struggles, but there's not much he can do to get leverage.

I take my knee off the small of his back, and sit on him in the space where ass meets thighs. The sensation of the smooth leather of his pants is...interesting. The noise I make in response to the friction is genuine, and heartfelt. Spike immediately freezes. "Don't stop, Spike," I say mockingly. "Things were just starting to get interesting."

"Fuck you, Angel!"

"Eventually, yeah," I say. Even with the not needing to breathe thing, I sound breathless. "Right now though, I want to know how the hell you managed to make a vampire capable of having an existential crisis?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Spike demands, sounding like he thinks I'm out of my mind.

I slap the back of his head, just because I can. "I'm talking about Xander being afraid that you don't love him because--If I'm getting this right--he doesn't act enough like Xander to suit you," I say with exaggerated patience.

"That's bollocks!" Spike growls.

"Tell him that--better yet, don't. You've hurt him enough."

"Like there weren't times I hated you," Spike snaps back, and starts struggling again. "You had no right to take him from me!"

I lean forward. "Not listening well, are you, Spike?" I say in his ear. "Xander loves you, he's afraid you don't love *him*." I grind my hips against him a little bit. His hips push back, like he can't help himself. I nuzzle against his shoulder, and move to his neck, pulling aside the collar of his shirt. I lick his neck, right where the pulse would be, if he had one. I kiss him, and he moans. "Did you like watching, Spike?" I whisper in his ear.

"Bastard." He struggles a little--not even a real effort--and pushes up against me. "He's all I got left--*why?*" Almost a shout, full of resentment and anger.

"He's all you have left of *what?*" I ask him.

Spike goes still beneath me, all the tension draining away, as if he were suddenly exhausted. "All I have left of Xander. But he's not, he's *not* my boy." Spike makes a sound that's vaguely like a laugh. "Should've been letting him run wild, help him paint the town red--or burn it to the ground--instead, all I can think of is how much I *miss* my boy, and keeping *him* out of trouble."

I sigh. "Spike, you idiot."

"What else was I supposed to do," Spike says in a defeated voice. "They wouldn't even see him, after he rose, wouldn't even hear about giving him a soul."

"That's not why you're an idiot," I tell him. I shift our position, so that we're lying back to front. Spike doesn't resist, but doesn't help either as I unfasten his pants. His head is cradled in the crook of my arm, and I offer him my forearm. He presses his closed mouth to my wrist, and closes his eyes. No resistance to him at all. "You've done an amazing job with Xander, but you're still an idiot, for all that," I say, and nuzzle at his neck, licking and nipping a little at his skin. My other hand grips the waist band of his pants and pulls. His hips lift slightly as I pull his pants down to his knees. "You both should have come to me sooner."

"Yeh, so you could set us the two of us on fire?" Spike asks snidely.

"Don't be an ass." I bite him, hard on the neck, and he arches up into it, making a gutteral sound between a groan and a growl. I reach around, and close my hand over his erection. He moans softly, hips jerking back and forth, rubbing against me, fucking my hand. "Should we move this to the bed?" I loosen my grip on his cock, which provides him with less friction, which makes him whine in frustration, which I choose to interpret as a "yes."

I move back, pick him up, and arrange him face down on the bed, with his legs dangling. Spike squirms a little as I cover him, kissing and sucking a little at his neck. He groans and arches his neck, thrusting his hips up against me. I groan back, and fumble around for the Vaseline jar. I get my fingers slippery, and run them down the crease of Spike's buttocks. His hips jerk as I enter him and start stretching him a little. I give him a variation of the same offer I gave Xander, but all he does is growl and thrust.

I remove my fingers, get them more slippery, and slick my cock. I start to push in slowly, but Spike slams back, making me groan. I'm close, I'm very close, and I'm going to *kill* Spike if I come before I can finish him. I growl in his ear, which only makes him laugh at me. I offer him my wrist again, and he starts mouthing and sucking on it gently, but not biting. I start thrusting, hard and fast, while nipping and licking at Spike's throat. He moans when my fangs sink into his throat, and starts thrusting back.

"Please," he mumbles into my wrist. "*Please.*" Spike verbal shorthand at this point for 'May I bite you, Sire?'

"Yeah," I gasp out in my own version of verbal shorthand, and Spike wastes no time, biting hard and sucking at the wound. Which sends me over the moon. I shout as I come, thrusting hard, and then collapse on top of Spike. I lie there for a moment, then Spike starts squirming under me, so I pull out, and roll onto my side, taking Spike with me. He squirms some more.

"Got something that needs taking care of here, Angel," he says pointedly.

"We'll get to that in a moment," I say. He growls but doesn't protest more than that. I nuzzle his shoulder. "You can stay here."

He cranes his neck to look at me. "What?"

"The hotel. I want you to stay here."

"What are the rules?" Spike asks.

"Don't cause trouble, Tell me where you're going, and when you plan on being back, call in if you're going to be late," I tell him.

"And?"

"Do what I tell you. That should be obvious." I smirk.

Spike snorts. "Right, I'll give that one my usual care," he said sarcastically,then pauses, looking uncertain. "What about Xan?"

"I'm his Sire, you don't tell him what to do. Whatever else, is up to you both."

"All right then," Spike sighs, and lets me hold him for a bit before squirming.

"You going to untie me any time soon?"

I untie his hands, get a knife from the drawer, and cut off the tape, and stand back. Spike sits up, pulls his pants back on, and gets shakily to his feet. He looks at me, uncertain and strangely vulnerable. "He--How can I expect him to stay with me, when he wouldn't before?"

"You'll have to work on that--I'm the last person you should be asking for relationship advice, Spike." I shake my head. "If you have any stuff you need to get, go get it and bring it here, we'll find a room for you to stay in."

He nods and leaves. I sit down on the bed for a moment. Is this going to work? Or is Spike going to run off, just to prove that he can? I'm thinking about maybe going after him when Xander shows up, poking his head in the door. "Didn't I tell you to go to your room?" I ask him.

"Yes," he says and looks around. "Where's Spike?" He says, and frowns, and gives the room another quick scan, like he thinks he's going to find a little pile of dust on the floor.

"Hopefully, to get his stuff," I say, and stand up.

For a second, Xander looks blank, then his whole face lights up. "He's staying here?" He asks, and grins.

I nod. "Let's get a room ready."

*~*~*~*~*~*~

We're cleaning out a room that's somewhere between mine and Xander's when Spike makes an appearance. He stands there in the doorway, carrying a duffel bag. Xander stops attacking the cobwebs in a corner with his broom, and turns around. He starts to go toward Spike, but stops just a few feet short. "Spike," he says quietly, and it's almost a question the way he says it.

Spike shoots me an unreadable look, then looks at Xander. "Angel and I worked out a little agreement," he says, shooting me another look. Bitter, this time.

"Agreement?"

"I'm staying," Spike says. "He's going to work at playing Sire for you. You and I...we'll see what works out."

Xander flinches a little at that. "Oh, okay...oh," he says in a hurt voice.

Spike growls. "Now what's wrong?"

Xander looked away. "Nothing, just--nothing, I'm okay."

"Oh just spit it out, already! You want me to go?" He sounds angry, and probably looks angry to Xander--but I can see that it's mostly fear in his eyes.

"No!" Xander says, and starts toward Spike again, like he's going to try to keep Spike from leaving. "It's just--you're mad at me again."

Spike sighs and drops his duffel bag. "No. I'm mad. Doesn't mean I'm mad at you. Just mad."

"Why are you mad?" Xander asks.

Spike rubs his face with one hand. "Right. I'll say this once, so don't go asking again. I'm mad 'cause Angel is a wanker, 'cause he took you from me, and 'cause I bolloxed up being your sire to the point you ran off. Got it?"

Xander looks away. "I'm sorry," he says softly.

The look on Spike's face--I can't quite describe. A little tired, a little sad, and wistful. He opens his arms silently, and Xander slides into Spike's embrace, wrapping his arms around Spike, and resting his head against Spike's shoulder. "You didn't do anything, it was me," Spike says into Xander's hair.

"It was me."

They held each other like that for quite awhile, then they parted and silently finished cleaning the room.

~fin~