*****

He could barely stand the suspense. His entire body practically quivered with excitement as the guards led him through the cinderblock corridors towards Cell Block D. Finally he was freed from solitary confinement and he could return to the slightly larger inmate cell that he had come to think of as home. His and Devon's home.

Devon.

He ached for his lover so badly. Lately, it had seemed as if he dreamed of the long haired singer every single night only to wake up alone, cooling semen coating the inside of his sleepwear and the name "Dev" on his lips. He longed for soft touches and gentle kisses just as much as a good hard fuck with Dev's sweaty back pulled close to his heaving panting chest as his cock thrust deeply into his lover's tight hot body. Xander shivered just thinking about it.

And now, here he was, on his way back to his lover, his friend, and their bed.

The walk through the hallways seemed eternal, but *finally*, they made it to Cell Block D were his lover awaited him. It was early evening, just after recreation, so the cellblock was filled with large dangerous men when Xander arrived. When his guard unlocked the barred door to the cellblock, Xander stepped inside for the first time in twenty days. All conversation stopped and a deathly quiet stole across the large stone room. All eyes turned to stare at him, but Xander didn't care. He had only one thought on his mind.

Devon.

Trying to stay calm and dignified, Xander began to walk across the large open space and headed directly for his and Dev's inmate cell. All eyes tracked him. Somewhere in the crowd, someone spoke, their harsh whisper carrying over the space in the silence.

"Who the fuck is *that*? And why the hell is everyone staring at him like he's the second coming?"

Xander didn't recognize that voice, but he did recognize the voice of the man who answered the question. It was Tony "Andretti" Wilcox, a current member of the gang that ran Cell Block D, and one of the best getaway driver's in California. The only reason he was even in here was that his own mother turned him in for the reward money.

"*That* is Xander Harris, the Sunnydale Slasher. He just spent twenty days in the hole for murdering a guy that pissed him off. You'd do wise to just leave him and his boy the fuck alone Shelby. That guy's for real."

Shelby snorted in what could have been disbelief.

Xander heard the entire exchange, but he refused to dwell on it and the sharp stab of loneliness and hurt that it caused to well up in his chest. Instead, he focused on walking the rest of the way across the cellblock and opening his cell door. Once he was inside, he closed the door behind him and leaned back against it, sighing in relief.

He was home.

Devon stood there silently, his one hip leaning up against their desk, a sad smile ghosting across his face and his long silky hair pushed back behind one ear. His right hand was wrapped in a white bandage and his blue denim button down shirt was, for once, buttoned up over his t-shirt, but Xander didn't care. Devon was *still* the most beautiful sight Xander had ever gazed upon.

"Dev..."

Xander merely took one small step forward and opened up his arms wide. Devon practically flew across the tiny cell and pressed himself against Xander's chest. Two arms, one whole and one still healing, wrapped around Xander's waist and Devon's face buried itself in the side of Xander's neck, wet silent tears falling gently on his skin.

With a slight tremble from his barely restrained emotions, Xander brought his arms down and around the slim body of his lover, cradling him close as if to protect him from all the badness in the world. He pressed his cheek against the side of Devon's head, the silky hair feeling delightful against his five o'clock shadow.

"Missed you. Missed you *so* much. Counted down the days till I could see you again."

Devon's breath hitched in his throat as he tried to contain a sob. His shoulders shook and he bent his face even further into Xander's neck and shoulder.

"Oh *gawd* Xander! It's... it's... it's *horrible*. I'm... I'm *deformed*!"

Stunned shock battled with confusion for a brief moment until Xander realized that Devon was talking about the burns that Drake had inflicted upon him. And the permanent scars those burns would leave. His heart squeezed painfully in his chest for his lover.

Devon's entire self-image, both back in Sunnydale during his "Dingoes" days and here in Brighten were based on his looks, his ability to drive people to desire him sexually, his grace and his charm. This... injury hadn't just been a blow to his body physically, but a blow to his self-image and his self-confidence. It had rocked the very foundation of his world.

Gently, Xander pulled back slightly and cupped Devon's cheek with one hand. Then, careful not to hurt his lover, he tilted Devon's face up until he could look the slim man in his tear-filled eyes.

"No, baby no... You're *beautiful*, not deformed."

Devon shook his head slightly, one tear finally escaping the rim of his sad sad eyes.

"You don't understand. You didn't *see*! I'm... I'm... *hidious* An. All blotchy and scarred. *Forever*!"

Xander simply dipped his head down and kissed the tear off of Devon's cheek. The salty saline taste of pain and despair teased his lips and tongue as he leaned back up and looked Dev in the eye once more.

"Let me see."

A welter of emotions raced across Devon's handsome face. Embarrassment. Fear of rejection. Self loathing. Shyness. And finally, resignation. With a sad hopeless look in his eyes, Devon nodded his head and stepped back. Silently, his heart breaking for the man he was coming to love more than anything or anyone else, Xander watched.

Devon carefully and slowly, due to his bandaged right hand, pulled the ends of his denim shirt out of his jeans. He began the painful and torturous process of unbuttoning them. After a long pause, Xander stepped forward to help.

First, the blue denim shirt came off, then the white t-shirt. To Devon's obvious surprise, Xander didn't stop there, nor did he try to unwind Dev's bandages or peer more closely at the healing wounds that weren't wrapped up. Instead, Xander gently settled Devon into their plastic desk chair and knelt down on the floor in front of him. Reaching out, Xander unlaced Devon's workboots and slid them off of his feet, then he began to unzip Dev's jeans. Helping the slighter man stand up again, Xander slowly slid them and his boxer-briefs down. A confused frown marring his features, Devon stepped out of them.

Finally, Xander stood back up and slowly looked over his naked lover. The man was beautiful, long lean muscles that were more toned than built up like his own. Soft skin that had once been golden but was now pale from the enforced lack of sunlight. Long silky hair that Xander loved to bury his face in before falling to sleep. Gentle heart that had taken one frightened and confused convicted serial killer and gave him hope and happiness in a place that was practically devoid of both.

Then Xander concentrated on the healing injuries. Devon's right arm, from his shoulder to the tips of his fingers, and the right side of his chest was a motley of white bandages and slowly healing flesh. The skin that could be seen was blotchy. There were patches of bright pink that was almost red next to patches that were almost white and shiny next to patches that looked normal and healthy. In some places the skin looked tight, as if it had been stretched taunt, while in others it was rough and lumpy.

After walking around him once or twice to see the exact extent of the injuries and at what stages they were healing, Xander came around to stand in front of Devon again. He looked up into his lover's haunted eyes and smiled softly.

"Like I said earlier. You're beautiful."

Now it was Devon's turn to look shocked and confused.

"What? Xander, are you blind? How can you say that? I mean... look at me and..."

Xander cut Devon off, not letting him finish what he was saying. Calmly, as if discussing the weather, Xander reached out and touched a spot low on Devon's stomach, right below and slightly to the side of his belly button.

"Cordelia has a scar right here. It's pretty big and round. It's bright red and all crinkly. It has a matching partner on her lower back."

Devon's face showed even more confusion.

"Huh?"

"From where Angelus impaled her. It left a scar."

Then, he walked around to Devon's back and traced an invisible line along side of his spine.

"And Willow? She has one right here. It was terrifying. I was convinced that she'd end up paralyzed. And Anya?"

Xander walked around towards Devon's front again and placed a tiny kiss up close by his hairline over his left eye.

"Right there. Harmony did that one. Of course, Harmony got Riley too."

Xander bent down and touched Devon's leg on his thigh. Then, lightly dragging his hand up and over Devon's hip and across his lower abs to right below his ribcage, he pressed a fingertip slightly in a little circle.

"And Buffy's got one right here. Stabbed with her own stake."

Xander leaned over slightly and brushed a soft barely there kiss along Devon's slightly parted lips before pulling back away completely. He spread his arms wide and grinned.

"And you've seen *my* collection of scars and battle wounds. I'm a regular patchwork of badly healed cuts, scrapes, burns, and stab wounds."

He lowered his arms and tilted his head until he could capture Devon's gaze with his own. He was very serious when he spoke next.

"Devon. We *all* have scars. They're *not* deformities... they are *badges of honor* to us. We wear them with *pride* because they are living *proof* that we fight the darkness... and *win*!"

With his heart breaking to make Devon understand, *truly* understand, Xander walked over and gathered the naked man back into his arms.

"Oh baby. You could *never* be ugly in my eyes. You're *beautiful* and I'm *proud* of you. You battled a *Blaycore Demon* and *survived* even though you're not a fighter. You lived and I'm proud of you and I... I *love* you. Don't *ever* think that I don't."

Suddenly, Devon's arms wrapped around Xander's waist again and squeezed him tight as he broke down and sobbed in his lover's arms once more.

~~~

Xander was standing quietly in line for lunch, pushing two trays along the metal railing while Devon reached out and grabbed various foodstuff from the display counter. Gravy drowned meatloaf with overcooked carrots appeared on both trays only to be quickly followed by two small bowls of some lumpy looking pudding.

Xander looked at the lumpy pudding and frowned. He knew that Dev wasn't really paying attention to what he grabbed them because he was too busy chatting with the guy standing next to them. However, Xander *refused* to eat the lumpy pudding. It looked gross and smelled worse. Picking one bowl of it up, he handed it back to Devon.

Devon looked at it a second, shrugged with a grin, and replaced it with a square piece of chocolate cake. He never stopped his friendly argument over the best way to smoke marijuana with his friend. Xander smiled and shook his head in amusement.

While he himself didn't have many friends because the guys were basically too afraid to approach him, Devon had lots. Xander had a sneaking suspicion that many of Dev's friends were only nice to him as a way to stay in Xander's good graces, but he didn't really mind. As long as Dev was happy, that's all that really mattered.

Tuning out the babble-fest next to him with the ease of practice, Xander considered how far Devon had come in only a short week.

When Xander had first been released from solitary, Devon had been embittered, withdrawn and very depressed about his injuries. It had taken Xander almost three days of constant reassurance, lots of examples of *other* people who were permanently scarred and three nights of gentle and slow love making to bring Dev back out of his self imposed shell.

But here he was, no longer self-conscious, flirty and chatty once again.

"I just don't fuckin' *get* it man..."

The harsh voice, filled with tones of disgust pulled Xander from his woolgathering. He recognized the voice. Shelby.

The tall angry man was what the prisoners referred to as a "change child". At first, Xander thought he might be a demon because of the Hellmouthy nickname, but Shelby was human. He was just slightly crazy, his personality forever changed due to the harsh realities of prison life.

He had been arrested for domestic violence. Nothing *too* bad. He didn't kill his wife, and he wasn't *normally* abusive. However, one of their arguments got out of control and he had hit her. It was the first time, and it most likely would have been the last. His wife however, wasn't mollified by promises and offers to seek counseling. She prosecuted him and he ended up in jail for an 18 month sentence.

However, he cracked under the pressure of incarceration.

Cell Block A was an isolation ward for those prisoners whose life would be forfeit if they were introduced to the general population. The child molesters, the "dirty cops", and those who had turned state evidence on a "partner" for a reduced sentence.

Cell Block B, where Shelby was originally placed, was full of white collar criminals and first time offenders of minor crimes. The embezzlers, the frauds and the con-artists lived there. And Shelby snapped. One day he got violent and beat up a fellow prisoner so badly that he was placed in the clinic. And Shelby was transferred to Cell Block C.

Cell Block C held the drug dealers and the car thieves and the habitual drunk drivers. It was filled with drug addicts and bar brawlers and other assorted nasties. And Shelby was kicked out of there too... for rape. He had attacked a fellow inmate in the communal showers that Cell Block C used.

Now he was in Cell Block D. With the murderers, and the rapists and the violent and dangerous criminals who faced long term (even lifetime) sentences. Those whose hope for parole was slim to none. Shelby was now with the prisoners who weren't so much *nasty* as they were down right *frightening*.

To make matters worse, he was talking about things that the other's refused to listen to and he couldn't understand why he was being shunned. So he kept talking.

"I mean, *look* at that *fine* piece of ass... gorgeous man, I'm talking *ripe* plum for the plucking... And he's *hanging* all over that... that... *loser*. What's he *see* in him anyway?"

"They grew up together Shelby. Same highschool and everything... well, until Harris blew it sky high..."

Xander heard Shelby's indelicate snort.

"So fuckin' what man! So they're friends from back home. Who cares? Doesn't mean he has to *fuck* him, right? Why shouldn't *I* get a piece of that ass?"

Xander felt his teeth grind together and shot a quick glance over at Dev. His boyfriend didn't even know he was being talked about because he was still arguing over the merits of wrapping your pot in a rolling paper verses smoking it from a pipe. Xander was glad, he didn't want Dev to get frightened or upset by this. Silently, he listened to Shelby some more.

"...all I'm saying is that I think he'd be happier with *me*. That's all. I mean, if he likes to suck cock *that* much, he can suck on mine."

Then Andretti's voice cut back in.

"Look Shelby. I'm only telling you this for your own good. Leave Devon alone. Don't go near him, don't talk to him and for God's sake, don't go and fuck with Harris. The last person that stepped on Harris's turf got himself killed."

"But..."

"No. Just shut up Shelby. I'm telling you, just... shut up about it. When you got to D Block you petitioned the gang to watch your back for you and we will. But not if you go up against Harris. We don't got no beef with him and we don't *want* a beef with him. And I'm telling you true, straight up, be *thankful* that Devon is keeping Harris distracted and his dick all happy. 'Cause if he *didn't* have Dev to play with, he'd end up *running* D Block... easy. And no one wants Harris to rule D Block. So... *back off*."

Xander couldn't help but smirk at that. He was glad that Andretti was watching his and Dev's back. He'd have to find a way to repay that kindness, but for now, Shelby's warning needed another touch...

Grabbing his tray, Xander turned and started to walk back along the line of prisoners toward the table he and Dev always shared. He could hear Devon walking along behind him and smiled inwardly.

When he reached Shelby, Xander came to a complete stop and leveled his best "Spike" glare at the man and growled low in his throat.

Devon looked back and forth between Xander and Shelby for a moment before turning a confused look at his lover.

"Xan... what the fuck? You getting in touch with your inner Angelus or what?"

Xander couldn't help the snort of harsh laughter that burst out of him. It was a sound that was hauntingly devoid of all humor.

"Something like that. After all, Shelby here wants to steal you away from me. He seems to think that you should be his fuck-toy or some shit like that."

Devon looked stunned for a quick minute and then turned to give Shelby a frank appraisal as his eyes swept over the other man from head to toe and then back up again.

Then, Devon laughed.

Long and hard and full of amazed amusement. Tears pooled up in his crinkled eyes and he gasped for air even as he clutched at his still tender side. Howls of mirth echoed off of the high ceiling and everyone turned to stare.

"Oh God! That's so funny man... Oh, I *love* it... that's... that's... of fuck, that's the silliest thing I've heard in a long time. Oh... shit, I needed to laugh like that. Oh god..."

With much effort to try and compose himself, Devon ignored the flaming red cheeks of total and complete mortification on Shelby's face. Instead, he brushed tears of laughter from his eyes and leaned seductively up against Xander's back to peer over his shoulder and whisper, quite loudly, in his boyfriend's ear.

"Not to worry lover. You know I'd never leave you, for *any*one."

Devon glanced at the humiliated prisoner that Xander was still growling at and smirked. Turning back, he brushed his lips along Xander's ear and whispered again.

"I belong to you and *only* you. Everyone knows that... and now so does *he*. Come on, let's go eat."

But Xander didn't move, he just turned up the glare a notch as he let Shelby's words roll through his mind once again. This man was like Turk, he just wanted to use and abuse Devon and Xander hated that more than anything. Then Dev's voice stage whispered in his ear once more.

"Xan, please? The last time you killed someone for me they took you away from me for twenty days. I don't want to go another twenty days without you. *Please*..."

It was the real fear in Dev's voice that he'd go back to solitary that pulled Xander away from the red haze of anger and hate. With a snarl that was both warning and promise, Xander turned and walked away.

As one, every person in the lunchroom let out a collective sigh of relief.

~~~

The next three weeks were a roller coaster ride of highs and lows, ups and downs, stress filled tension and unsurpassed joy. And Devon was at the center of it all.

When the last of Dev's bandages came off and the clinic physician pronounced Devon "fit as a fiddle" and "as good as new", the singer had broken down and cried. It was his last bout of self-pity over scars that would fade, but never disappear. He finally accepted that he had been touched by the darkness and forever marked by it's presence in his life.

Xander had held him while tears poured from his red-rimmed eyes until he could weep no more. Then, he had gently and silently undressed them both and had made slow tender love to him until they had both fallen asleep, limbs entwined and tangled together. They had woken up before morning roll call and made love again, but this time it was fast and hard and more than a little raunchy. Afterwards, they had emerged from their shared cell reeking of sweat and sex and with identical smug grins on their faces.

They endured dozens of knowing smirks and one jealous scowl all the way to the communal showers.

Shelby was a minor annoyance that wouldn't go away. He made sure to stay far enough away from Xander as to not *appear* to be antagonizing the bigger man, but he'd found other ways to make his presence felt.

He'd taken to alternately flirting with and then insulting Devon during their morning work assignments until Devon finally requested a transfer out of the laundry facilities. At first, he had been turned down, but when word filtered up through the grapevine to the "Powers that be" that the transfer request had been made by the Sunnydale Slasher's boy-toy because of sexual harassment by another prisoner, it was then granted. No one wanted a repeat of the "Drake incident".

So, after a few tense days when everyone kept waiting to find Shelby's battered corpse stuffed into some lonely broom closet, Devon was officially transferred to another work assignment. The singer now spent his mornings in the prison greenhouse learning to grow fresh vegetables for the prisoner's salad bar.

Devon once again began to laugh and joke around. In response to his lover's obvious happiness, Xander relaxed and became visibly less upset and tense. The prison guards released their collectively held breath.

Then, Xander's father came for a visit. It started out with Xander sitting there silently while Alexander Harris Sr. insulted and belittled Alexander Harris Jr. Then it degenerated into an equal argument with both sides screaming in each other's faces. Words like; "twisted psycho" and "caged faggot" interspersed with words such as; "drunken loser" and "unemployed wife beater". The guards finally had to forcibly separate them when the punches started to fly. Alexander Harris Sr. was officially blacklisted from visiting again.

The Warden of Brighten Maximum Security Penitentiary was firmly convinced that a happy and calm Xander was a non-killing Xander. He went out of his way to try and make sure the "Slasher" had no reason to commit murder.

But the best parts of that whole time period was when Xander found himself curled up under the blankets with Devon held in his arms. He had never had a boyfriend before, even though he *had* considered it. Over the years he had been attracted to several guys, Devon being only one of them. However, Xander never explored those urges because he never had the opportunity. No guy, besides Larry, had ever offered and he had been too shy and insecure to ask. Besides, he had never lacked for girlfriends.

But Devon had taught him things about himself, about life, and about love that he'd never known before. And under the influence of hard prison life and Devon's gentle compassion, he matured.

He didn't see strength or weakness in the same way that he always had and his scale of what was tolerable and what wasn't had also shifted. He had confidence and the fear/respect of his peers in a way he'd never had and he found himself changing in response to that.

He'd grown very quiet because with the exception of Devon and a few of the prisoners that were also gang members, no one would willingly talk to him and they would become a bundle of jittery nerves if he approached them first. So, he didn't talk or joke or make wise cracks except for rarely.

He worked out strenuously everyday. Weight training and endurance training and even some sparring with the gang, all in an effort to become as strong and intimidating as he could. So he could protect Devon.

The Xander Harris that the inmates saw everyday was a dark haired, dark eyed and silent young man who was tall, heavily muscled and not afraid to use his fists to get his own way. And if pushed, he'd kill. Ruthlessly.

The Xander Harris that *Devon* saw each night in their shared inmate cell was a dark haired, haunted eyed young man who told snarky jokes, whispered softly of sweet devotion and love, cried for his lost chances and trembled with burning passion.

Devon had taught Xander the joys and thrills of sucking cock, and he had to admit, if only to himself, that he *loved* the taste and feel of Devon in his mouth as he listened to the breathy moans and sighs of his lover as the slim man writhed in pleasure beneath him. However, as much as Xander enjoyed their oral trysts and mutual 69's, at least twice a week Devon would roll over onto his stomach and thrust his ass up into Xander's groin, begging to be fucked.

That had mystified Xander. Not that he wasn't appreciative because he really really enjoyed sinking his throbbing erection deep into Dev's tight channel, but he couldn't understand why *Dev* liked it so much. Xander just didn't see how his lover could enjoy it at all, yet the one time he'd offered to forgo the pleasure of Devon's tight hole, the singer had thought Xander was breaking up with him for another man.

When Xander had managed to calm Devon enough to explain his reasoning, Dev had offered to show Xander what the enchantment was all about. So, in the middle of a hot and heavy 69 session when Xander's cock was halfway down Devon's talented throat, the singer gently slipped a single spit slicked finger inside of Xander's anus. It had felt odd. It didn't hurt really, he just felt full and he *still* didn't see how Devon could literally *beg* for it.

Then Devon's finger moved and hit this spot inside of him. Intense pleasure had sizzled up Xander's spine until white lights danced before his eyes and he slammed headfirst into a sudden and violent orgasm. Xander passed out. When he awoke, he *never* questioned Dev's desire to be fucked again. Instead... he began to wonder what it would feel like to have more than just Devon's finger inside of him as well...

But Xander wasn't sure if he was ready to give up his virginity. Yet.

*****
Part 2:

Almost a month after Xander was released from solitary confinement they received another care package from Sunnydale. This one had The Magic Box as the return address just like the others had, but it was larger and heavier.

The weekly mail delivery usually was a big deal. Most of the guys received letters on a semi-steady basis although a few never got any. However, the others were now used to Xander's monthly boxes from home. But this time, Shelby seemed offended by it, although Xander wasn't sure if it was because a serial killer had friends who thought kindly of him or if it was because the box was address to both him *and* Devon.

Xander pushed that aside as best as he could. He didn't want one twisted man's insecurity and dementia to ruin what was traditionally a great day for him and his lover. The care packages from the Scoobies always served as a catalyst for a deeper connection with his lover. The first one had allowed them to have intercourse for the first time, courtesy of the lube and condoms from Giles. The second had inspired Xander to encourage Devon to begin singing again and now his lover was happier than he'd been since his arrest. He had high hopes for this one as well.

Rushing back into their shared cell, Xander closed the door behind him and put the pre-opened box on the floor. Devon slid off of the bottom bunk and together they pulled the top flaps back. And gasped in delight.

They removed the expected items; sexual lubricant, condoms, two cartons of cigarettes, shampoo and conditioner, soap-on-a-rope and an envelope of new pictures. However, there were also some unexpected items. Things that Xander *knew* would be used hard.

A small compact combination radio/tape player/CD player sat in the box alongside a small plastic bag of tapes and CDs. Pausing a moment to share an excited smile with his lover, Xander quickly pulled the radio out of the box and placed it carefully on their desk. There was one electrical outlet in the cell and it was on the wall next to the desk, so it was the only place that it *could* go. While he was setting it all up, he could hear Devon flipping through the music selection.

"Hmmm... lot's of choices here Xan. I don't know which to choose. I wanna hear everything all at once, ya know? It's been *so* fuckin' *long*..."

Xander grinned at Dev's mumbling even as he bent down with the plug in hand, searching for the outlet he *knew* was down there.

"Jeff Buckley, the Smiths, Dave Matthews, Sting, Tom Petty, Smash Mouth, Fuel, Eve 6, Off Spring, Garbage, Patsy Cline... *Patsy Cline*?!?!"

Pushing the plug in, Xander turned and flashed Devon a blushing and shy grin.

"Um, I'm guessing that one's for me."

Devon rolled his eyes and grinned back at him. Then, with a smile so big that it almost split his face in half, he went back to rifling through their new music.

"Johnny Lang, Weezer, Poe, Bjork, Play Me... what the hell? Oh! Xan! Here, pop this one in first."

Xander reached out and took the black plastic Memorex cassette tape out of Devon's hand and turned it over. White tape had been wrapped around the top and he recognized Willow's handwriting. It read simply; Play Me. With a wobbly smile, Xander inserted the tape into the player and pressed the "play" button. Xander sat down on the chair just as the white noise at the beginning of the tape gave way to Willow's bright and cheery voice.

"Hi Xander! Hi Devon! Willow here to... um, sort of send a letter, but not. Cause we're all going to put it on tape. That way you can hear our voices and all and I thought it would be, you know, more personal and... happy, I guess."

Xander felt his eyes water up with tears at the sound of his best friend's voice flooding his cell. A slight shuffling noise off to the side and he turned his head just in time to see Devon stand up and walk over. He reached up with both arms open and his boyfriend slid down onto his lap. They cuddled there, holding each other as Willow's voice came back on once again.

"Well, we got you a tape player and CD player combo, although I guess you figured that out, huh?" Soft happy chuckles filled the air and a tear escaped down Xander's cheek even as he smiled widely. "Some of the music we sent you was bought on sale at the local 'Wall To Wall Sound' store and some of it we copied from stuff we already had. The Sarah McLachlan, Enya, Moon Tribe, Loreena McKenmit, Our Lady of Peace and Seal is from me and Tara. I hope you guys like it."

Xander grinned. He had lots of good memories of hanging out with the girls and listening to their music. Devon just rolled his eyes. With a happy sigh of pretend martyrdom, Xander hugged his lover tightly and kissed him behind his ear.

"Oh! Um, here's Giles. He wants to talk to you."

The boys waited a moment and then they could hear Willow's voice as if from a distance.

"No, no... you talk into *here*."

"What?... Um, what do I say?"

"Just... *any*thing Giles, just... you know. Talk."

They heard a throat being cleared and shared a cheeky grin.

"Right. Well... um, I... I guess I should start out by telling you that all is going well here. No... uh, apocalyptic happenings that can't be handled. So... no worrying yourself about that. Oh! I am sending along those language tapes as well as some musical tapes. My selection is... older rock and roll, however, I'm sure you'll learn to adjust. I can assure you that I didn't send that Bloody Hound Gang..."

Buffy's voice interrupted with a shout from the background.

"That's *Bloodhound* Gang Watcher-man!"

"Uh... yes. Right. I didn't send that Lords of Acid tape either... although I think I might have shared a flat with him when I was at Uni... but, uh... that's neither here nor there, is it? On the other hand, the Eric Clapton *is* from me as is the Tom Petty and Sting."

There was a brief pause and then Giles voice came back on. He was whispering and the sound was slightly distorted, so it seemed as if he were trying to not let the other's hear what he had to say to Xander and Devon. Instinctively, they both leaned in closer to the tape player.

"Um... I'm not sure how to say this... so I'm going to be... blunt. *Please* use the... uh... *supplies* that I've been forwarding to you two. I'd be... distressed if any... preventable illness were to befall either of you."

Giles cleared his throat loudly then and the tape fell silent.

Devon shifted on Xander's lap and blinked in amused confusion at his lover.

"Uh, Xan? Did your foster father just give us a "safe sex" lecture? On tape... for posterity?"

Xander felt his grin stretch into a maniacal smile.

"Why yes... he *did*. This is blackmail material that will be good for *years* to come."

They stared at each other for another moment and then they broke out in identical giggles. Then they had to try and calm down so that they could hear once more. This time it was Buffy's voice that came on to fill the cell.

"Hey guys! It's Buffy... but um, you probably guessed that, huh? Things here are the same old, same old. Go to class, do your homework, save the world, fend off a lovelorn bleached biteless demon with grabby hands. Yesterday he pinched my bottom and gave himself a migraine. Serves him right."

Spike's British accented voice cut in from a distance.

"Oy! Did not Slayer. Wouldn't pinch your bum... was aiming for the blonde witch. *You* got in the way..."

"Sure Spike... what*ever*!"

Girlish giggles filled the tape then. After a brief moment, they tittered into silence and then Buffy began speaking again.

"Xan... we miss you. Lots. Even Spike. The Big Bad even went so far as to buy you some CD's. They're in the box with the rest of the stuff."

Then Spike's voice was back again, only this time it was closer.

"Oy! Do not and did not! Don't miss you whelp, don't listen to the Slayer. Loopy bird, she is. And I didn't *buy* you anything. Nicked those CD's from a couple of dates, so you better appreciate them. Had to shag three different humans to get you those. The Limp Bizkit, Nine Inch Nails, White Zombie, Metallica and Sex Pistols are from me. No music collection is complete without the Sex Pistols. So... heard you been offing your playmates. Proud of you, I am."

Xander blinked in stunned shock at the reference to Drake and then a rough banging and rustling sound followed by Buffy's "Don't make me stake you Spike." and Spike's "Bloody *Hell* Slayer, calm down already." in the distant background.

Then suddenly Willow's voice was back.

"Um... sorry about that. Spike wasn't supposed to find out about that, but you know the Fangless One and secrets... Soooo... anyway, I went to see, um... your Mom the other day, and I told her about us sending you some cassette tapes to listen to, and uh... she was sad, but good too. Um, she misses you and she asked to be allowed to send you some tapes that she said you'd like. She, uh... also asked that we not tell your Dad about it, but... um, she'd like to, you know, write you and all. She said that she was going to get a Post Office Box so that she could get letters from you without, um... your Dad finding out. Anyway, she's the one who sent the Patsy Cline and the Garth Brooks. So... Oh! Um... here's Anya!"

Xander felt sort of shocked. Willow's rambling babble had just dumped a lot of information on him in a short period of time. He wasn't surprised that his Dad wanted nothing to do with him, but he *was* shocked that his Mother did.

Always a soft spoken and timid woman, she had always seemed deathly afraid of her husband and Xander could never remember her defying him before. Yet, here she was, willing to risk everything for a chance to stay in touch with him, a man that she thought of as a serial killer. Xander wasn't sure how he felt about it, but Devon's hand rubbing soft small circles on his back seemed to be the only thing that was keeping him from falling apart.

A faint rustling noise and then Anya's voice filled the air. Ruthlessly, Xander focused on the sound of his girlfriend saying his name so that he wouldn't have to think about his family. At least, not yet.

"Xander? Um... I'm not sure how this works, but Willow assures me that you will be able to play back the tape and hear what I am saying... sort of like turning on the radio... or a VCR, only without pictures."

Xander felt a wobbly grin cross his face. His Anya was a gem, a pure original. So naive in some ways, and frighteningly worldly in others. It was an eternally surprising mix that never failed to amuse and enchant him.

"Well... I just wanted you to know that I'm still seeing Judith and that we are very happy and she gives me lots of good orgasms. Of course, not like you do. You are still my favorite orgasm friend. My boyfriend. I'm glad that you're not upset about my girlfriend, but then again, I understand about your boyfriend... so I guess we're even, huh?"

The guys shared a quick shocked glance at each other, then they heard both Buffy and Willow shout "AnnnnYaaa!" in the background, disbelief and surprise coloring both of their voices. Xander and Devon both broke down in soft giggles.

"What? Xander's in *prison* and everyone *knows* that men have orgasms with the other men in prison. It's in all the movies."

Xander began to laugh harder as he heard Anya's reply to Buffy and Willow. He offered a smirk up to his lover.

"Ya know, I don't envy Giles trying to explain things to Wills and the Buffster. Nope, don't envy him at all."

They looked at each other for a long moment, their eyes sparkling with suppressed mirth, and then they both burst out in long loud howls of laughter once more.

~~~

Two days later, Xander was writing a letter to Willow and listening to one of the tapes she had copied for him. The Clash was on one side, but he was currently listening to the Red Hot Chili Peppers. He wanted to thank her, not only for the music, which Devon was ecstatic about, but also for trying to open up communication between him and his Mother.

Even as a young child, he could remember his Mom trying to protect him from his Father. It wasn't easy. Alexander Harris Sr. was a drunkard and a violent and bitter man who felt that life had cheated him out of the lavish and luxurious lifestyle that he deserved. Nothing that he or his Mother had done had been good enough and they often had suffered abused, both verbally and physically, at his hands.

When Xander had gotten older, he had begun to stand up to his old man. Both for his own sake and his Mother's. At first, it didn't happen often, but as he got older and stronger and more self-confident in his fighting ability, he'd been able to turn the tables and protect *her*.

And now she thought that he was some demented serial killer that had stalked the streets of Sunnydale. And that *hurt* him in ways he didn't have the words to describe. All his life, he had heard her whisper into his ear that he was "Mommy's sweet love... Mommy's precious heart" and it tore him up inside that she now saw him as tainted, evil... a monster.

He wanted Willow to tell his Mother the truth. The *real* truth. He wanted her to go over to visit his Mother... and bring Spike along. His Mom knew Spike from the time that the vampire had been his roommate in the basement apartment... but she had never really *known* Spike. She deserved the truth. The *whole* truth... and then maybe he'd be his Mother's "precious heart" once again.

For over an hour, Xander poured out his heart and his thoughts to Willow. Then, he signed it, folded it, and then sealed it in the envelope that was already addressed and stamped.

That's when Andretti burst into his cell, his face pale and his eyes wild.

"Harris! Ya gotta get to the showers! *Now!* Shelby's got Dev in there... *alone*!"

For half a second, Xander couldn't wrap his mind around what Andretti had just told him and then *pow* the knowledge slammed into him and his chest constricted in unadulterated fear. He could feel his heart hammering behind his ribs and his face go pale even as he jumped up and pushed past the gang member that had taken to shadowing Shelby in an effort to keep him away from Devon.

Everything felt somehow unreal as he ran out of his cell and across the open area towards the communal showers. Time seemed to be moving way too slow and every step felt like he was trying to rush through thick heavy air and run along sticky molasses floors. His mind kept chanting "oh god no oh god no oh god no" over and over until he was certain that his heart had picked up the horrified tempo.

Prisoners dashed and dove out of his way as he ran full tilt, tears already leaking down his face and then *finally* he was at the door and he didn't stop, he just *ripped* it from it's hinges and ran on in.

Time seemed to stop. To freeze so that his mind could carefully record every disgusting and terrifying detail to replay in an eternal feedback loop during his nightmares for the rest of his life. His lover, his boyfriend... his *only* friend here, was laying on his stomach in a crumpled heap under the pouring deluge of shower water, bright red blood smearing his face from his split lip and broken nose. His left leg was twisted at an unnatural angle, obviously shattered.

And Shelby, in all his horrid glory, knelt behind Devon, looked up into Xander's face, smirked, and *rammed* his erection inside of Devon's battered body.

Xander SCREAMED his denial, his voice echoing madly off of the tile walls.

A crimson red haze of hatred and bloodlust descended upon him and it was as if he had no control, no say over what his body was doing, and he was frightened and slightly sickened by it, but another part of him felt a fierce joy and he *knew* that it was that last little bit of the Hyena in him that was going for the kill... Demon or no Demon... this man had hurt a member of his *pack* and Xander *knew* that Shelby was going to die, but he didn't care.

He just lunged across the slick tiled floor, grabbed Devon's rapist by his wet hair and yanked him off of his mate. Xander threw him into the wall, relishing the sound of his skull smacking against the ceramic tiles. And then he was all fists, punching and hitting, the sound of flesh hitting wet flesh echo in his ears as he kicked and bit and snarled and *poured* his anger and hatred out of his body through violence and aggression in a way he never had before.

He could hear people coming in to watch, the sounds of footsteps splashing in the puddles of water and voices echoing hollowly around him, but he pushed that all aside and just hit and punched and inflicted as much pain and damage as he possibly could because this animal... this evil sick twisted *human* deserved to be punished with every pain and torture that the Hellmouth had ever taught him.

"*Harris!* Let him go and back away! *Now* Harris. Don't make me shoot you. *Drop him Harris!*"

And that voice, that loud stern voice ricocheted off of the walls and into Xander's brain and to his surprise he found that both of his hands were wrapped tightly around Shelby's neck and that he was squeezing hard. Shelby's ugly face was turning blue and purple and he oozed blood from a dozen wounds and his entire body was a motley patchwork of bruises and contusions.

"*Harris* Let. Him. Go. ... *Now!*"

Xander loosened his hold, but he didn't drop the body of his enemy, instead, he turned and looked over his shoulder. Five guards stood in a semi circle around him and three of them had their guns drawn on him while two of them were administering first aid to Devon.

The sight of his lover lying on the cold wet floor broke his heart, but it was the sight of Andretti standing off to the side making small "give me" motions that determined what Xander was going to do next.

With a small, barely perceptible nod to the gang member, Xander shoved Shelby at him with all his strength and then gave a low cry of "Dev!" and dropped to his knees next to his lover. Devon was unconscious but alive and the guards began to assure him that Dev would "be okay" and that the doctors at the prison clinic would "make him right as rain", but Xander knew that things would never be the same again.

With the anguish in his heart reflected in his dark eyes, Xander looked up just in time to watch Andretti casually snap Shelby's neck, killing him instantly. The large rough gang member wordlessly dropped the dead body, even as the three remaining guards began to cuff him to take him away to solitary confinement.

Xander had a brief moment to wonder why he had done that, had risked that for them when the medics from the clinic arrived and Xander's thoughts became concerned only with Devon.

~~~

The next two weeks were very hard. It was all Xander could do to keep his wildly fluctuating emotions under some semblance of control.

As soon as they had reached the clinic, the doctors and medics took charge of Devon and set about fixing as much of the damage as they could. His broken leg was x-rayed and set. While the doctor and a medic wrapped the limb in heavy plaster, another set his broken nose and stitched up the jagged cut along the side of his mouth. Icy packs and heating pads were liberally applied to his bruises and a sedative was given to him to perform the "post rape examination and treatment".

Xander was practically semicomatose the entire time until the doctor began to treat Devon's rape, then he snapped and became violently protective. The last thing he remembered was a sharp pinpoint of pain in the side of his neck and then a wave of vertigo washed over him and he slumped to the floor. Then everything went black.

When he awoke, it was to find himself strapped to a bed in the clinic and that everything was over. Devon was in a healing sleep, Shelby was dead and Andretti was in solitary confinement. A medic helped Xander to sip some water and told him that Shelby's body was being prepared for autopsy.

For some reason, that didn't make him feel any better.

It was a few days after that when he and Devon began seeing the prison shrink. Dr. Gelipade. They each saw him for an hour alone and another hour together. While Xander didn't want to admit it, even to himself, those talks helped.

At first, Xander was shocked and confused as to how Devon could shrug off and bounce back from such a violent and personally hurtful attack. He himself couldn't shut his eyes without relieving each gruesome detail in perfect technicolor with surround sound. Yet Devon almost acted as if it had never occurred.

Dr. Gelipade talked Xander through his personal guilt at not being able to prevent Dev's attack and he assured Xander that Devon *did* care about what had happened. He also confirmed Xander's suspicion that this wasn't the first time this had happened to Devon. And to Xander's horror he found out it wasn't the second, third, fourth or fifth time either.

When he learned that Devon had become resigned to the idea that he was born a "rape victim" and had, in his own head, decided that *all* men wanted to do that to him, he had stopped worrying about it and had just accepted that it *would* happen and there was nothing he could do to prevent it, Xander had vomited. To think that his lover could believe that his propose in life was to be raped by prisoners tore Xander apart inside.

He had suggested that maybe he should stop his sexual relationship with Devon, but Dr. Gelipade said that he should go by what *Devon* wanted. If Xander just stopped, Devon might think that he was "damaged goods" and no longer desirable.

Xander decided then and there that he would cut down anyone who dared to harm a hair on Devon's head from then on and that he would devote himself to *proving* to the other man that he was more than just some warm body. More than just a hole to be filled. A body to rape and abuse.

He was someone that Xander loved.

It was also from Dr. Gelipade that he found out about Shelby's autopsy. It turns out that Andretti snapping his neck was actually a mercy. The man would never have survived Xander's beating, his internal injuries were too severe. He would have lingered in agony for several hours to a few days, just suffering. Xander found that he suddenly wished Andretti hadn't broken Shelby's neck.

And every night Xander held Devon and whispered in his ear how much he adored the older man, how much he cherished him. He spoke of how beautiful Devon was and how brave and loving. He tried to convey just how much the slim and battered young man meant to him, but he was never sure that Dev truly understood.

And through it all, everyone walked around on tiptoes, half expecting Xander to flip out and start slaughtering random guards and prisoners. He could strike terror into the hearts of hardened and jaded men with just a look, a glance or a snarled word. But somehow, he managed to contain his anger and frustration.

Mostly.

He only lost it on three prisoners and sent them to the clinic for stitches and ice packs and none of them died. Xander didn't worry too much about them though... they had touched Devon. Accidentally, yeah... but still, they *had* touched him.

~~~

At the end of the month things started to settle down and return to a semblance of normality. Xander's homicidal rages were coming back under control, although he *still* missed going out on patrol and venting his frustrations on the demons and vampires of the Hellmouth. Devon was exhibiting *real* happiness and not the fake cheer he had right after his rape and a few days of uncommonly warm weather had assured the prisoners of several days in the outside exercise yard.

The educational classes that the prisoners from all of the various cellblocks were forced to take were quickly coming to an end and jokes began to circulate about "final exams". Xander wasn't worried about his English class or his Spanish class. He had spent too many years helping Giles and Willow do research and translate ancient texts to have any problems with language courses. However, he wasn't sure that he would pass the math and science classes.

Which was fine. He could always take them again. There was no rush and no real pressure to pass. He wasn't going anywhere.

There was one thing that had captured Xander's attention though. It had been rumored that they would be getting a new teaching assistant to come and work with the main professor that taught here at Brighten. He was supposed to be a highly educated man from England.

When he had first heard this, Xander hadn't known what to think and he was certain that his immediate gut response would have sounded bizarre to anyone else. He couldn't help it though, he just thought that it would be wonderful to listen to a British accent once again. So... he asked the professor and learned something that rocked his world.

The new teaching assistant that would be starting next week was none other that Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. Ex-Watcher.

END