"Geez, Giles! Don't we get to listen to circus music while we ride around in your tiny little clown car?"

Xander groaned as he fought to adjust the seat position. He felt like an accordion as he sat crunched up in the Citroen passenger seat, his knees poking into his lungs. He finally managed to push the seat back a few inches, relax his long legs, and breathe normally again.

Giles mumbled an apology about the broken lever as he drove through the darkened streets on the way to Xander's house.

The cramped cabin and the smell of oily exhaust fumes weren't the only things making Xander uncomfortable. He and Giles had barely spoken a word since leaving the school. There had been several half-hearted attempts and nervous glances, but neither of them had worked up the courage to talk about...it.

The black book sat tucked between the car seats. Like the empty scotch bottle under the coffee table in Xander's living room, it was the Bad Thing; the source of anxiety that everyone tried to pretend wasn't there.

Xander reluctantly picked up the book. He wasn't sure why. Maybe talking about it would be better than the awkward silence. Maybe "pretending nothing is wrong" never made anything better before. His fingers fumbled across the cover as he placed it across his lap. It felt wrong, too cool to the touch, and he could almost hear faint, echoing screams emanating from the depictions of human suffering within.

/...my screams.../

"So, you read this?" Xander kept his eyes on the book instead of Giles. He'd only looked at it once before, but that had been enough to make him want to sleep with the closet light on. He carefully flipped through the musty old pages. Horrific images of crucifixions, human sacrifices, and various torture implements crept out at him, his apprehension growing with each turn of the page. "Am I in here? The blood apple stuff, I mean?"

Giles cleared his throat. "Yes. It's all in there. Th-the ritual of the pomme de sang was quite...ahem, explicit."

Xander's heart stopped when he turned a page and was confronted with a picture of the tattoo stylus. The sharp tip, the small reservoir, the jewel on the handle; everything was exactly as he remembered it. The illustration was so detailed, he was afraid to touch it, as if touching the image could somehow bring forth the same excruciating pain. He almost slammed the book shut.

/No, I need to understand what this all means. There has to be something in here that can help me. Don't be so afraid, it's only a book!/

Xander marshaled his courage and skimmed through the text. "Blood of the vampire"..."master's mark"..."bound for eternity"..."desecration of the virgin."

/Damn./

"Then...you know about everything. What Angel had to do to, um...make me..." Xander's voice trailed off, embarrassed.

"Yes. Only the pure can be claimed as a pomme de sang, and once...corrupted, the binding curse is complete." Giles pulled over to the side of the road, and turned off the engine. He flicked on the map light, and turned to face Xander.

"I'm sorry, dreadfully sorry about what happened to you. It pains me that I can think of nothing sufficiently comforting to say to help you cope with this unthinkable crime. I understand why you might be reticent to talk about it, but I hate the thought of you struggling through this alone. Please don't feel like you have to hide anything, Xander. You can talk to me about this."

"Thanks, but I can handle it. It's my problem, and I'll deal with it my way," Xander said, his cheeks red as he squirmed in the seat, his arms crossed tightly in front of him.

"How? By keeping secrets from the people who want to help you? Were you ever planning on telling anyone the truth?"

Xander shook his head vehemently, and smacked his hand on the dashboard. "No! I told you, it's my problem! They don't need to know. What good would it do? They're already spooked because I'm not human anymore. Cordy is so grossed out, she can't even look at me. I don't want to give her any more reasons to think I'm disgusting. I don't need all of them pitying me, judging me, wondering if I'm gay or just the biggest wuss on the planet for letting Angel do that to me..."

"No one is going to judge you or think ill of you," Giles said firmly, forcing Xander to listen to him. "What happened wasn't your fault, and you didn't let him do anything. He raped you!" Giles spoke the ugly word with such intense anger, bitterness and sense of loss, that Xander recognized his own pain in the older man's voice.

/Angel stole his life, too...when he murdered Jenny./

Giles backed off a bit, regaining his composure. "If Angelus had done the same thing to Willow, would you think any less of her?" he asked gently.

Xander pulled his jacket tighter across his chest. Giles had brought it back for him after he'd left it in the nurse's station. It had been a gift from his best friend, and he shivered at the mention of her name. He remembered the words Angelus had spoken to him the night before.

/"You know, it wasn't going to be you. I was going to make Willow my new little toy. I have to admit, though, it works out much better this way. Willow never hated me like you do."/

He chewed his lip and picked sadly at the buttons on his jacket. If there was one thing Xander could be grateful for in the midst of his nightmare, it was that Willow had escaped his fate. At least she'd get to hold on to her innocence.

"No, of course not, thank God. She'll always be Willow."

"Then how can you believe they would treat you differently?" Giles asked. "Because you're male? Women are helpless victims, but men should somehow always be able to protect themselves?"

"I don't know!" Xander scratched at his chest self-consciously, staring at the picture of the needle. "I don't know anything anymore. I mean, I've read plenty of horror stories, heard about the things vampires do to people, but I never imagined that anything like...like that...could ever happen to me."

A terse, wry laugh escaped his lips as Xander smoothed his fingers over the yellowed pages of the book. "Y'know, I figured I'd be lucky if I got more than one picture in the new yearbook. But this is so much better, right? Here I've got lots of pages devoted to me. Although I was hoping I'd be remembered for my second place finish at the regional swim meet, not for being the Hellmouth Freak of the Week."

"Stop this nonsense, right now! You're *not* a freak, and you have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of."

"Oh, no?" Xander's voice shook, rising with every word. "Nothing to be ashamed of? Giles, wake up! Angel made me his permanent FUCK TOY! That's not something I want to announce over the intercom to everyone in school!"

"No, th-that's not what it means to be..." Giles tried to calm him, and was startled when Xander suddenly flung the book into the back of the car. It smacked into the rear window with a loud thump, and the pages fluttered as it slid down the seat.

"Don't patronize me and try to sanitize everything, Giles," he cried harshly. "All that talk about pommes de sang being servants? Servant, my ass. Deadboy doesn't want me to park his car or clean his bathroom. Blood and sex is all the same to them. I may not speak five languages, but I'm smart enough to understand that pomme de sang is just a fancy word for whore."

Resignation crept across Giles's face. He couldn't say anything in rebuttal, because it was true. Vampires often eroticized the act of bloodletting, and were rarely finicky eaters where gender was concerned. The Watchers' diaries described several instances where Angelus had sexually violated his victims, both male and female.

Xander let out a frustrated sigh and shifted away from Giles. He traced his finger in the condensation on the passenger window. "What is it about me, huh? Was I cursed before this? Why do I always end up with monsters that want to kiss me and kill me? Angel said I was weak. The perfect prey. Is he right?"

"No, he's not. You should know better than to believe any of his lies. It's all a sick game for him, figuring out the worst ways to torment each one of us. Angelus didn't target you because you're weak, but because he wants to crush your spirit. When you want to be, you're the most willful, obstinate young man I've ever known. Which, truthfully, can be bloody annoying at times, but you need that determination now. Draw from that inner strength. No matter what Angelus does to hurt you, show him that you can overcome."

"That which does not kill me makes me stronger, huh? Considering nothing is supposed to be able to kill me anymore, I guess that kinda makes me...hey!"

The passenger window shattered, and bits of glass rained across the cabin, taking both men completely by surprise. Strong arms reached through the window, and yanked Xander outside.

/Angel!/

"Urg! No, please, don't!" Trapped in a chokehold, Xander struggled against the vampire who was dragging him up the embankment into the woods.

/Hey, why didn't the tattoo alarm go off?/

Xander spotted a female vampire attacking Giles. She sported spiky red hair, heavily tattooed arms, and an electric blue mini-skirt. Definitely not Drusilla. When he looked down at the thick arm thrown around his neck, he was surprised to see rainbows.

Angel would never be caught undead wearing anything tie-dyed.

"Whoa, dude, do you have any idea how completely bitchin' you smell? I can't wait to see how you taste!" growled an unfamiliar voice. Xander cringed as a tongue lapped at his ear. When the arm around his neck loosened, Xander was able to reach into his inner jacket pocket. Just as the vampire ripped into his neck, Xander smashed the vial of holy water into his attacker's face.

"Taste that!" Xander croaked.

"Aaargh!" Smoke sizzled from the vampire's burning hair, and he pushed Xander to the ground. The vampire clutched his face, groaning in pain. "What the fuck did you do, you little punk?"

"Giles!" he yelled. His neck hurt like hell, and he clamped his hand over it to slow the bleeding.

"Little...busy...right now!" Xander glanced over, and saw Giles dodging blows from the girl vampire.

/I can do this! I can do this!/

Before the vampire could pounce on him again, Xander kicked out and swept the vampire's feet out from under him, and he toppled backwards onto the ground. Ignoring the pain from the bite, Xander pulled himself up, and thrust the cross down at Mr. Rainbows. The vampire hissed and howled on the ground, trying to roll away. Xander kicked him repeatedly in the ribs.

"I...hate...being...bitten! Understand?" The vampire tried to grab Xander's leg, and received a handful of cross for his troubles. While the vampire screamed, Xander took out his last weapon, the stake, and plunged it into its heart.

As the creature crumbled into dust, Xander bent over and propped his hands on his thighs, breathing heavily and feeling more than a little dizzy.

"Xander! A little help here!" shouted Giles. The other vampire had him pinned against the hood of the car, and was ready to strike. She looked up to see whom Giles was talking to.

When she saw Xander, she literally licked her lips with a hungry smack, and lost all interest in having Giles for dinner. With inhuman speed, she raced up the bank, and tackled Xander to the ground.

"Oh, this Everyone-Take-A-Bite-Out-Of-Xander fad is getting old really fast!" groaned Xander as he tried to push the girl away from him. She snarled and pinned his wrists to the ground, her nostrils flaring as she took in the scent of her prey.

"What are you, sweet thing?" she purred, her lips curled into a hungry, toothy smile. "You're so different from the others." She giggled playfully and nuzzled her head high on his chest, nipping at him through the sweatshirt.

Xander heard a click and a whir, and felt a sharp pain. At first he thought the vampire had bitten him, but then saw her dissipate into dust. He looked down and was shocked to see a bolt sticking straight up, buried at least a half-inch into his abdomen.

"Ow! Ow! Jesus Christ, you shot me!"

"I was shooting at the vampire!" Giles blushed, lowering the crossbow. He lent Xander a hand and helped him off the ground. "Sorry, these really aren't designed for point blank range."

Xander yanked the bolt out with a gasp, scowling at Giles. "Watch it with that thing! I may heal fast, but everything still hurts just as bad." He stuck his finger through the tiny hole in his shirt and wriggled it.

Giles handed him a white handkerchief to dab at his injuries. They both looked relatively minor, and the bleeding had already stopped. Xander wasn't sure he'd ever get used to that. After barely two hours, his fractured wrist had become nothing more than a dull sprain, and Angel's bite had completely scabbed over.

Xander froze and dropped the hankie when an ominous roar emerged from the woods. Gruff, threatening, and much too close for comfort. The ground started to tremble, and there was a loud rustling coming from the grove of trees behind them.

"Oh, god! I don't even want to know what the hell is making that sound. Retreat! Retreat!" shouted Xander as he raced for the Citroen.

Giles dove into the driver's seat, and fumbled with the keys while Xander begged him to hurry. It was dark, but Xander could see a large shape emerging from the woods. A distressingly large shape that made The Incredible Hulk look like a Pee Wee football player.

The car sputtered a few times before starting, and Giles pressed the accelerator all the way to the floor just as a very hungry looking demon with enormous teeth and claws approached the curb. Both men screamed as the car lurched down the road, the demon lumbering behind them.

"You had to stop the car on the outskirts of the cemetery?" fumed Xander, looking over his shoulder. He panted and tried to catch his breath, relieved to see the demon shrinking away into the distance.

"Yes, well, in hindsight, that probably wasn't the wisest course of action," wheezed Giles, pushing his glasses up the sweaty bridge of his nose. "But we did rather well for ourselves, I must say. Two vampires destroyed. Good show!"

"What, are you crazy? We almost got munched! And you really need to trade in this junk heap if you're going to stay in the super-hero biz. Zero to forty-five in 10 seconds ain't no Batmobile. What if that had been some kind of speed demon? He'd be chomping on our brains right now!"

"Don't worry, I'll have Buffy swing by tonight to dispatch the demon." Giles straightened the rear view mirror. "Junk heap, indeed. You Americans have no appreciation for classic European aerodynamic engineering," Giles muttered.

They drove in silence again until the Citroen reached Xander's street. "Don't drive up to the house, my parents don't know I left," asked Xander. "You can park there, in front of the O'Malleys."

Giles stopped the car, and they stepped out. Giles held the crossbow, and motioned Xander to stay back as he scanned the trees and houses.

"Deadboy isn't here," Xander said. He scratched at his aching neck, not liking the strange tingly feeling he got whenever his wounds healed. "I'd feel him if he was close."

Giles joined Xander as he walked to his house. "You must be extra careful from now on, Xander. As you saw tonight, Angelus isn't the only one that you need to be worried about. I think it would be best for you to remain at home after nightfall."

"Great! Fun! Nothin' like playing Prisoner of Xanda, locked away in the tower of Castle Harris," he grumbled. "Spending an entire evening with my parents? Now that's torture."

"It won't be forever. There may be a charm Willow and I can prepare that will mask your scent, to lesson the danger. Until then, I don't want anything to happen to you. Call me or Buffy immediately if you see anything suspicious outside, understand?"

"Okay, okay! I'm on house arrest!" Xander agreed quietly, hoping his parents couldn't hear them from their bedroom window. He stopped at the trellis and shuffled his feet, self-conscious and unable to look Giles in the eyes. "Anyway, here's where I get off. Thanks, G-man. I appreciate what you did for me tonight. Even if you did shoot me and almost get us turned into Purina Demon Chow."

Giles chuckled, and patted Xander on the back affectionately. He had been so patient and kind with Xander during this crisis. Although Buffy and Willow both had a special bond with the Watcher, Xander never thought Giles had cared much for him, and that had always bothered him a little. Seeing his genuine concern today touched Xander more than Giles could ever realize.

"Will you be alright?"

"Yes. I promise to be a strong, brave little camper, scout's honor." Xander grinned sheepishly, raising his hand in salute. "I mean it. I will get through this...my way," he said more seriously.

Giles squeezed Xander's shoulder gently, and let him go. "Of that, I have no doubt. You have remarkable perseverance and will. Perhaps one day you'll learn to apply that dedication to your studies. Off with you now, go get some rest."

Xander smiled and climbed up the trellis and into his bedroom window. He waved at Giles while he got into his car and drove away.

Xander snuck down the hallway to the bathroom. He desperately wished he could take a shower, but didn't feel like rousing his parents with the noise. No more questions, no more talking, he just wanted to sleep. He washed up in the sink as quickly and as quietly as he could. He sprayed the incriminating pink-swirled puddles of water with Windex, and wiped down the counter with a wad of toilet paper.

Exhausted when he returned to his room, Xander stumbled trying to step over the comic books fanned out on the floor. He turned to his bed, lumpy with pillows and dirty laundry. He sluggishly kicked off his shoes and stripped down to his shorts, tossing his clothes near the closet. He'd throw away the ripped sweatshirt in the morning. He yawned and rubbed his hair as he tugged at the comforter draped over his bed.

What he saw next caused Xander to shout and trip backwards over his skateboard. There was a woman waiting for him in his bed, and unlike most of his fantasies, it wasn't Cordelia.

"Hello, my precious! Patiently, oh so patiently have I waited for you. Are you ready to come home to Daddy?"

*****
Part 9:

Shocked at the sight of Drusilla reclining on his bed, Xander tripped over his skateboard and fell to the floor. Wide-eyed and terrified, he scrambled backwards across the cluttered carpet as the vampire rose to her feet. He shrieked when he bumped into the bedroom door.

"H-how...how did you get in here?" Xander fumbled with the door handle and fought to pull himself up.

"Your Mummy got lost inside my eyes," she giggled. Before he could even tell she'd moved, Drusilla had Xander pushed up flat against the door.

"Mom? No, please tell me you didn't..."

"Hush. She is of no consequence to you." Drusilla stroked the trembling boy's cheek. "You do not belong in this mortal world, you belong to Angelus. But I can be your new Mummy! Would you like that?" She brushed against Xander in a manner that was anything but maternal.

"Uh, that would be a big NO FREAKING WAY!" Xander shoved against Drusilla with all his strength. She slipped on some magazines strewn on the floor and lost her grip, allowing Xander to escape down the hallway.

"Mom! Dad! Oh, God! Answer me!" He threw open his parents' bedroom door, but found the room empty.

/where are they, where are they, my fault, my fault, they're dead and it's all my fault/

Xander heard something moving downstairs, and felt a surge of hope. "Mom! Dad! Get out of the house! Get out!" He raced for the top of the stairway.

"And where do you think you're going, noisy kitten?" Drusilla caught Xander by the arm, and twisted it behind his back.

"Get your hands off of me!"

With a frantic jerk, Xander was able to wrench himself free, but lost his balance on the top step. He crashed down the flight of stairs, tumbling head over heels. He cried out when his leg slammed into the banister with a bone-crunching thud.

Xander landed in a twisted heap at the bottom of the stairwell. His shoulder felt dislocated, his back was sore, and if the shooting pain wasn't enough of an indication, the strange tilt to his leg confirmed that it was broken.

Gasping in pain, Xander turned his head and could see into the living room. It was much too quiet for a typical evening in the Harris household. His parents weren't arguing about money, "WWF Smackdown" wasn't blaring from the television, and Uncle Rory wasn't regaling anyone with stories about Nadia, the three-nippled stripper.

Instead, his mother sat alone on the flowered love seat, staring at a blank television screen. Her eyes were glazed over, and she made chewing motions as she raised her hand to her mouth, like a mime eating imaginary popcorn.

"Did you finish studying, dear?" she asked, her voice a lifeless monotone. She lifted another non-existent handful of popcorn to her lips.

"Mom, listen to me," Xander groaned. "Hurry, you have to take Dad and get out of here, you have to..."

"Willow is such a sweet girl, Xander, always so thoughtful. I sent her upstairs so she could help you with your homework. Did you thank her for bringing your assignments over?" Munch, munch.

"Didn't you hear what I said? Please, leave now, or she'll kill you!" Mrs. Harris ignored him, oblivious to his panic. "Mom, what's wrong with you?" Xander tried not to black out as he dragged himself across the hall to the living room, while Drusilla leisurely descended down the stairs.

"What the hell did you do to her?"

With a devilish glint in her eyes, Drusilla put her finger to her lips. "Shhh. It's a secret." Her long, blue velvet dress swished softly with each dainty step. She leaned down, patted Xander on the head like a good dog, and stepped over him. She glided into the living room while Xander screamed at his mother to snap out of her trance.

"Mother!"

"Time to say good-bye," Drusilla murmured dreamily. She smiled back at Xander, and changed into her true vampiric face.

"No! Drusilla, don't! Please, you don't have to do this!"

"Leaving so soon, Willow?" asked Mrs. Harris, still zombie-like as Drusilla approached. "Give my best to your mother."

His insides twisted into a knot, Xander watched with horror as Drusilla sat down on the love seat, and swept his mother's hair off her shoulder.

/Think, Xander, think, or she's going to kill her!/

"Would you like a bite before you go?" Mrs. Harris offered Drusilla the invisible bowl of popcorn from her lap.

"Ooh, yes!" giggled Drusilla. She bared her fangs and lunged in for the kill.

"Drusilla, wait!" shouted Xander. She paused to listen to him, poised inches away from his mother's neck. "Y-you don't have time for that. Angel is waiting for us! We need to go to him - right now."

"But I'm hungry," pouted Drusilla. "I tried to eat the other one, but he was full of poison. Tasted foul, like one of the unfortunates." She wrinkled her nose.

/Other one? Dad? I can't see him! She killed him...Oh, God, she must have already killed him!/

His mother...his father...they may not have been the ideal parents, but Xander loved them and certainly didn't want them dying because of him. Torn with grief, Xander had to force himself to focus on the deadly situation at hand. He couldn't afford to lose it now, or there was no chance his mother would survive. He had to get Drusilla away from her.

Xander steeled himself, then raked his fingernails across his abused neck, fighting back sobs when the blood started to well. "But...but...w-wouldn't you rather have some of this?"

Drusilla eyed him hungrily, and uncoiled herself from the couch. "Oh, yes...but Daddy said I mustn't, not without permission."

Desperately hoping that his gambit would work, Xander held out his bloody fingers to entice Drusilla closer. "Prom-promise me that you'll let her go, and it'll be our little secret."

"Clever boy." Drusilla slinked over to where Xander huddled on the floor, and knelt beside him. "Trying to distract me! Such a delicious distraction, so sweet, like cakes with jam." She caressed his bare arm and shoulder, and he shivered, painfully aware that he was nearly naked.

Entranced by the powerful scent, Drusilla took Xander's shaking hand and lifted his bloodied fingers to her lips. Before she licked them, she stopped and shook her head. "No, I mustn't disobey him. Your blood belongs to Angelus alone, and he will not tolerate thievery." She frowned and reluctantly released him.

A split second later, her face lit up in a mischievous smile. "If I can't have jam, I'll settle for cream!"

"What?"

Drusilla tossed Xander onto his back, and he moaned when his shoulder protested the rough treatment. "Clumsy boy got himself all broken." Her feline eyes danced excitedly as she poked and prodded his swollen, fractured leg, enjoying Xander's agonized cries, like a cat toying with a captured mouse.

Unable to withstand the pain any longer, his eyes flooded with tears. "Please, don't, you're killing me!" Xander screamed when she set the broken bone with a brutal snap.

"Kids, please keep it down over there. I'm trying to watch the movie." Munch, munch. Mrs. Harris's eyes remained transfixed on the empty television screen.

"No, there will be no death for you." Drusilla pressed her finger to Xander's lips. He whimpered as she trailed her finger over his chin, across his throat, down his chest. She traced a circle around the tattoo. "No matter how much you may wish for it." When he tried to bat her hand away, she growled and gripped his wrist tightly in her other hand. She grinned down at him, her yellow eyes gleaming as she slipped a hand below his waistband.

He moaned when she cupped him. Xander writhed on the ground, trying to pull away, but her hand was persistent. Soft, cool fingers kneaded reluctant, wrinkled flesh, cajoling it to life. "Don't hide, come out to play," she teased, her lips hovering just above him. With her teeth, she pulled his boxers down. "Grrr! Ruff! I want to see it angry!"

Xander gasped when she licked him, nudging him against her lips. Being a seventeen-year-old boy, it didn't take much stimulation for Xander to respond. He'd once gotten hard simply by bumping against an attractive clothes mannequin at the mall.

/No, no, no! What the hell is wrong with me? No, I can't do this, please make her stop!/

Suppressing his arousal proved to be impossible. He tried to remember that she was a killer, someone who had seriously hurt him, and that his own *mother* sat only twelve feet away, but at the moment his traitorous body could only register that /oh-sweet-mother-of-God/ a woman's lips had closed around his cock.

He gripped Drusilla's hair and tried to pull her head away, but she was too strong, and held him captive between her lips. He moaned as she took him deep into her throat, wincing when he felt her fangs glide against his cock with reckless speed. When he struggled, she growled and pinched his injured leg to force him to submit. He froze, afraid to move too much, clenching her hair tightly as Drusilla milked him with thirsty vigor.

Humiliated by his failure to ward off Drusilla, Xander tried to console himself that he had no choice. If he hadn't "distracted" her, his mother would be dead. Xander's breathing became more rapid while Drusilla worked him feverishly, urging him forward.

/Oh God, just come, get it over with, get her off of me!/

When he came, his sorrow erupted in a ragged groan. Drusilla grasped the base of his cock, lapping and swallowing hungrily, savoring every tremor until he was completely emptied. Xander panted softly, blinking back tears, as Drusilla tucked him back into his shorts. Contented, she licked the tiny white pearls away from the corners of her smile, and smoothed her tousled hair.

/This is what my life has become? Sucking...fucking...letting them steal my life away? How much more can they take until there's nothing left of me?/

Drusilla laughed and snapped the elastic on his waistband. "You are a very good boy, Alexander! Mummy is so pleased with you." She stole a kiss, and Xander was embarrassed that he could actually taste himself on her lips.

He rubbed his mouth, eager to rid himself of the memory. When he noticed Drusilla peering at his mother, he clutched at her skirt. "She gets to live...that was the deal."

She nodded, and her features melted back into her human guise. "Our little secret," she chuckled.

"Honey, are you going out tonight?" asked Mrs. Harris. "Be careful out there. There are lots of dangerous characters running around Sunnydale these days."

"Not to worry, mum. I'll take good care of him." Drusilla petted Xander's hair and hummed a tune he didn't recognize. He didn't bother trying to move away. What was the point? How far could he get with a bum leg? And no matter where he ran, they would find him. He was caught.

He closed his eyes, feeling abused, bruised, and too spent to move. He didn't want to think about what was in store for him, and he didn't want to feel anything anymore. All the damage and emotional upheaval had taken their toll, and he finally surrendered to exhaustion.

/I wish I could just...keep...falling.../

Sleep beckoned forth the comforting blackness, the void where fear and pain didn't exist, the only place where Xander would ever feel safe.

Drusilla watched him for a few moments while he slept, like a mother admiring a newborn baby. She cradled the battered young man in her arms, and lifted him off the ground as if he weighed no more than a rag doll. She kissed Xander's forehead as she carried him outside into the night.

"Sleep, my precious boy. The darkness will restore you. When you awaken, you'll be in your new home, and Daddy will be so pleased to see you!"

*****
Part 10:

"Rise and shine!"

Sprawled across the bed, his entire body heavy with exhaustion, Xander scratched his chest and grumbled. "G'way. M'tired." He pulled a pillow over his head, wanting to ignore the voice and slide back to slumber.

/...wanna sleep for a million years.../

"Xan-der!" The annoying high-pitched sing song persisted, tugging him back from sweet oblivion. Scratch, scratch. What was up with the itching? Was his mother using the cheap detergent again?

Someone grabbed the pillow and tossed it to the floor. "Good morning, lazy bones. Sleep well?" All sweetness and light.

Yawning and only fuzzily coherent, Xander uncurled himself and opened his eyes. Blink. That. Isn't. Mom. Dressed in his customary black on black, Angelus perched on the edge of the bed like a raven, watching him intently.

Danger, danger! All his internal warning alarms sounded. Xander tried to roll out of bed, but in the space of a heartbeat Angelus had a firm grip on his forearm and muscled him back into place.

"Let go of me." Xander tried to hold his voice steady, but couldn't keep the fear from bleeding out around the edges. His pounding heart threatened to punch a hole through his chest, and he found himself hoping it would. Sit naked on a bed next to Angelus, or suffer a sucking chest wound? The latter seemed preferable.

"Welcome home. Did you miss me?" Angelus teased, stroking his thumb along Xander's forearm.

Xander glared at him, and wrested his arm free. Confused, he rubbed the spot where Angelus had held him. His touch shouldn't have felt soothing. There was nothing remotely comforting about Angelus touching him! He put that thought out of his mind, snatched up the bedding to cover his nudity, and scooted away from Angelus until he bumped against the headboard.

Xander blanched when he realized he was in the same room as before, the place where Angelus and Drusilla had transformed /raped/ him. The bed was still covered in black silk sheets. Moisture clung to the bare stone walls, and the place stank of mold and mildew. A huge spider web stretched from one of the bedposts to the ceiling. Fancy dolls lay strewn like corpses atop a wooden chest in the corner. Bloody scratches marred the far wall, where thick chains hung from a large iron ring.

Panic set in. Xander struggled to keep from hyperventilating, and thought it strange that his beating heart and frantic breaths were the only sounds in the room. In his nightmares, this place would forever echo with screams.

Still as a statue, Angelus watched him, seemingly basking in his terror. He smiled at Xander, lips drawn in sharp, thin lines. Lips that were much too red for a man. Lips that had tasted Xander, and wanted more.

/I'm gonna throw up, I can't deal with this...stop it. Stop it! Stop. Freaking. Out. That's exactly what he wants. Calm down. Breathe. Remember what Giles said..."No matter what Angelus does to hurt you, show him that you can overcome."/

"Oh, brilliant." The new voice startled Xander, and he turned to see Spike resting in a wheelchair at the doorway. "It's the little blighter who made all that bloody racket the other night."

/Crap, this just keeps getting better and better...Giles never said anything about dealing with Spike!/

"Look, I have my very own pomme de sang! Cool, huh?" Angelus said proudly, like he was showing Spike a new stereo system or other prized possession. "I wish Darla was here. She always did enjoy sampling the finer things in life."

Rolling his chair into the room, Spike snorted and took a drag off his cigarette. "Why'd you have to pick the mouthy kid, anyway? All that screaming and yelling...I thought the walls were going to come tumbling down. If you needed one of the Slayer's groupies, you should have gotten that little one with the weird hair who knows how to keep his trap shut."

"Screw you, Speed Racer! You try keeping the noise down when you're getting worked over by Deadboy and your skanky...ow!" Angelus punched Xander in the mouth, a warning blow just hard enough to smart. Xander rubbed his jaw while Spike snickered.

"Don't worry, I know how to keep Harris quiet." Angelus' smile broadened. "And I have other plans for the werewolf."

"Oz? Hey, what do you..." Smack! Angel punched him again, and Xander's head thumped against the headboard. "Ow!"

"Shut up and sit still. I'm not talking to you right now."

Spike exhaled a stream of smoke. "Better do as he says, kid, or he might get nasty ideas in his head. The sun doesn't go down for another ten hours, so he's got lots of free time to kill. And maim. And torture," he smirked.

Wary of their threats, Xander assessed his current condition. Was he in any shape to fight them? His leg didn't feel broken anymore, and the vampire bites had disappeared, but the accelerated healing had taken its toll; his energy was completely sapped. Normally it took at least a 16-year-old girl to kick Xander's ass, but he was so fatigued he figured a girl half that age could take him. Not good.

Scratch, scratch.

Even more discouraging, the tattoo curse was back. He'd almost forgotten how maddening it was, like fire ants burrowing under his skin. After Angelus had fed from him last night he'd had a reprieve, but now he was back to the compulsive scratching.

"You shouldn't have brought him here," said Spike. "Bo Peep is bound to come looking for her lost little sheep."

"So what? Let her come."

"Easy for you to say, you have your own Slayer insurance policy!" snapped Spike. "She won't kill you, but Dru and I, we're still fair game! You should have consulted us before taking the boy again, so we could come up with a decent plan."

"Oh, didn't she tell you?" Angelus feigned ignorance. "Drusilla brought him to me. A gift, she said. Y'know, I think she's still sweet on me. What do you think, Spikey?"

Spike straightened in his chair, anger and resentment curling off him like wisps of smoke. "I think if you know what's good for you, you'll stick to your soul stealing Slayer or hapless boy toy here, and leave my Dru alone."

Slow and cat-like, Drusilla stalked into the room. "Miss Edith said you boys were fighting again. Makes me feel special!" She circled around the wheelchair, climbed into Spike's lap, and nuzzled his cheek. Seeing Xander, she cast him a wicked smile. Her eyes sparkled as she sucked the tip of her finger suggestively. "Hello, precious."

Fear galvanized into rage, and without thinking Xander lunged at Drusilla. "Bitch! You killed my father!" Before he'd moved more than a foot, he was stricken with the same incapacitating pain he'd felt back in the school parking lot. His chest glowing, he collapsed on the bed, writhing in agony and gasping for air.

"Did I say you could move?"

"He has sunlight trapped inside his heart. See how it burns?" giggled Drusilla.

When the pain subsided enough, Xander shifted awkwardly on the bed, struggling to find the strength to sit up. Perspiration beaded off his skin, dotting the black sheets. Bad, the situation was very bad. The fire ants weren't just burrowing now, they were building a whole freaking colony. He felt nauseated by the waves of fear, disgust and hatred welling up inside of him.

Drusilla crept out of Spike's lap and nestled on the bed next to Angelus. "Do you like my present?" She tickled his ear while Spike watched her, seething with jealousy. "Sorry I didn't tie him up with pretty ribbons for you," she purred.

"You did good, babe." Angelus kissed Drusilla, lingering on her lips a few moments too long. Spike clenched the arms of his wheelchair, and muttered something Xander couldn't hear. "Why don't you take Roller Boy into the other room and rotate his tires or something. Harris and I have things to discuss."

Xander cried out when a hand grasped his thigh. He kicked Angelus, and was rewarded with another crippling surge of chest pain. He moaned and cursed while Angelus laughed, relishing Xander's misery.

"Daddy, let me play, too! His tears spill like pearls, and I want to wear them," pleaded Drusilla.

"Patience, Dru." Angelus patted her behind, nudging her on her way. "If you're very, very bad, you can borrow him later."

"Let them be, love." Spike extinguished his cigarette on armrest of his wheelchair, and flicked the butt in the corner. "While he plays shock the monkey, we need to be alert in case that little bitch decides to attempt a rescue mission."

"Not to worry, sweet William. I had a vision. Lies and treachery are creep, creep, crawling from their lair. They cut and slash and make sure the Slayer will not take him from our happy home." Drusilla followed Spike out the door, pausing to blow Xander a kiss good-bye. He swallowed hard and looked away, afraid to remember how she'd hurt him and ashamed to remember how she hadn't.

Angelus stood up and shut the door.

Xander huddled under the sheet, and halfway wished the other vampires were still around. He knew what was coming, but he was too trapped in the throes of Angelus withdrawal to even consider trying to escape. As he tried to focus on anything but the constant craving, he remembered something Angelus had said.

"What did you mean, you have plans for Oz? What are you going to do to him?"

"You should be much more concerned about what I'm going to do to you." Angelus jumped up on the bed, rolling on his side next to Xander. He leaned up on his elbow. "Doing okay?" he asked conversationally. "You look a little uncomfortable. Is there something you need?"

"Go fuck yourself, Deadboy. I'm not playing your games." Angelus grinned, and Xander's chest started to glow again. His torso became a bed of hot coals, scorching his lungs. He groaned and rode out the heat wave.

"Tsk, tsk. Language! Maybe later I'll cut out your tongue to teach you a lesson, but right now, I want to catch up on old times, and I'm pretty sure you don't speak sign language."

The tattoo continued to shine. Xander muddled through the red haze of pain and managed to give him the finger.

"Oh, you make it *so* easy to hurt you."

Xander screamed and doubled over as Angelus increased the severity of his punishment. Xander felt like he was being cooked from the inside, his own private Chernobyl meltdown, and the tattoo glowed so brightly, he could see it even through his closed eyelids. He couldn't figure out why he hadn't exploded into a mushroom cloud yet. When the surge ended, Xander flopped on his back, gasping for breath.

/...don't think about the pain... think past it...only good thoughts...baseball, Ding Dongs, Cordy's perfume...Cordelia...I wish I was back in the closet with you...where I can shut out the rest of the world and nothing matters but you.../

Angelus placed his hand over the tattoo. "I really, really love this thing." Xander sobbed when cool fingers slid across his chest. "Do you like it when I touch you?"

"No!" Despite his protest, Xander moaned and arched himself against the hand as it moved, his fevered body desperately seeking the cold.

Xander *needed* his master /no, not master, don't ever think of him that way!/ to drink from him. The thought of Angelus feeding from him again was repulsive, but every cell in his body demanded it. He couldn't stop shaking. His veins throbbed, clearly visible just below the surface of his skin.

/Ignore it...think of something else, think past the pain...don't let him control you!/

"Yeah, that was really convincing." Angelus chuckled, crouching over Xander. "Tell me...what did Buffy say when you told her we were lovers?"

"We're not lovers! You fucking raped me!" Angelus shushed Xander and held his wrists when he tried to hit him.

"Temper, temper! Answer my question. What did Buffy do when she found out? Be very specific. Did she get pissy and call you a liar? Was she shattered? Did she cry? She's so beautiful when she cries, isn't she? Damn, I wish I could have seen the look on her face..." Angelus studied Xander's reaction, and frowned. "She doesn't know."

Xander glared at him, but didn't reply.

*****

"Stupid cow!" Angelus roared. "What, was leaving your naked, branded body on her welcome mat too subtle a hint? Should I have left a sign tied around your neck that said 'P.S. I fucked him'?"

"Gee, if it means so much to you, why don't you let me go, and I'll tell her right now?"

Angelus grabbed Xander by the throat, and forced him back down on the bed. "Why didn't you tell her? Huh?" Xander scrabbled at the strong hand crushing his windpipe, but couldn't get Angelus to let go.

"It's my life, my business!" he croaked.

"No, it's not your life anymore, it's mine!" Angelus growled, punctuating his words with a vicious squeeze before abruptly releasing Xander. "Damn it, you really know how to piss me off! The only reason I let you go was so you could spill your guts. Do you think it was easy coming up with something that could top killing Rupert's woman?"

Xander wheezed and rubbed his bruise-mottled neck. "You're pathetic. You're too afraid to face Buffy head on, so you pick on her friends. You're nothing but a big fat coward, and what you did to me proves it. What was it Spike said? I'm your insurance policy? You knew you'd never be able to beat Buffy, so you..."

Angelus cut him off with a brutal slap. Blood trickled from Xander's mouth, tingling on his lips, and everything seemed to slow down. "Shut...up," Angelus whispered, shifting into his demon face. His nostrils flared, and he fixated on Xander's reddened mouth. He pinned Xander to the bed, covering him with his whole body.

Xander closed his eyes, a ragged sigh escaping between his lips. The stiff denim of Angelus' jeans chafed him even though the sheet, but the layers felt a mile thick, too much insulation.

"I know why you didn't tell her," murmured Angelus, trapping Xander's arms. Licking his fangs, he smiled down at Xander. Hungry. Wanting. Grinding his hips against him slowly, deliberately, teasing him.

"Stop it," Xander whimpered, half-heartedly pushing against Angelus, desperate for friction that could alleviate the burning itch plaguing every inch of his skin.

"If you keep the secret, you won't ever have to face the truth: you're nothing to her. I could kill you, torture you, or make you my bitch, but none of it would change a thing. Your suffering doesn't mean jack shit, because Buffy will never stop loving me."

/"Oh, it's always all about Buffy, Buffy, Buffy with you..."/

"Shut up! You don't know what you're talking about!" Bucking and straining underneath his captor, Xander tried to suppress his hunger, but couldn't. The need for contact fueled his struggles as much as his desire to escape. But touch still wasn't enough...he needed to give his blood, /now, right now, damn it!/ and each moment's delay felt like eternity.

"Do you want to know what it's like, making love to Buffy?" Angelus breathed into his ear. He lifted himself just enough to yank the sheets away, leaving Xander exposed and vulnerable. "Would you like me to show you?"

"No, I want you to get off me and stop screwing with my life!"

Angelus suddenly rolled to the side and yanked Xander close. Xander gasped when Angelus slid his hand down his back and toyed with the dimple right above his buttocks. "Well, what do you know? Buffy is ticklish there, too." He nibbled Xander's neck, sucking the tender flesh gently, taking care not to pierce the skin with his fangs. "So soft, so sweet, she loved it when I kissed her this way."

Xander had to bite his lip and dig his face into Angelus' shoulder to keep from begging the vampire to drink. Xander hated how he could make everything so utterly humiliating. This forced dependence, this mockery of intimacy was the most excruciating torture he could ever imagine. He reluctantly pressed tighter into Angelus' embrace, because being apart hurt more than the shame of being touched by him.

"Look at you! Once upon a time, you couldn't stand to be in the same zip code with me, but now you can't stay away, no matter how hard you try. It must be eating you alive." He kissed Xander's throat, hesitating there. "Here's the deal, kid. If you ever want to get a little fang action, you'll have to get me off first. Understand?"

/Son of a bitch! I can't take this anymore!/

"Yes, please, I'll do whatever you want!"

"That's what I want to hear," Angelus chuckled, kneading Xander's buttocks possessively. "Beg me. Show me you're my little slut."

Face reddened and shaking uncontrollably, Xander fumbled with the other man's fly. Gathering his courage, he slipped his hand inside. Angelus sighed when Xander's hot, sweaty fingers brushed under his cock and cupped his sac.

"Yes..."

Xander twisted the sac and squeezed them as hard as he could. Angelus' complacent smile melted in an instant, replaced by a tiny 'O' and a gasping squeak. "Do you like it when I touch you?" Xander asked mockingly. "Let's get one thing straight: I am not your bitch."

Xander screamed when he was assaulted by a blinding surge of energy. He dug in tighter, crushing Angelus's balls, refusing to let go. The two men remained locked together, howling in agony, fused by their mutual hatred and pain, neither wanting to be the first to give up.

"You're going to wish I had killed you!"

"Oh, bite me, Deadboy!"

Angelus finally relented, latching his fangs into Xander's shoulder with a sickening crunch. Xander exploded in a single, universe shattering spasm when every nerve ending in his body fired at once, the pain gradually morphing into pleasure. He let go of Angelus' balls and pushed his head down, forcing him to suck harder. Both men moaned and clutched each other with bruising intensity as Angelus drank. Xander knew he should be disgusted with himself, drawing pleasure from the release, but instead he was exhilarated. He'd defied Angelus, and that's all that mattered. The blood letting took its toll, and Xander started to drift, his consciousness fading.

"Oh, no you don't! Wake up, asshole! We're not finished yet."

Xander was flying. Literally. Angelus had picked him up, and hurled him across the room. Xander crashed into the wooden chest, tumbling to the cold stone floor under a cascade of porcelain dolls. He was so woozy, he could barely feel the impact. Three vampires danced before his eyes, all blurry but recognizably Angelus-shaped. Xander laughed when he saw that they all walked with a limp.

"You think that was funny, Harris? I'll show you funny. You'll be laughing so hard your insides will fall out." Angelus winced as he hobbled towards Xander, awkwardly pulling up his pants. He wiped the blood from his chin with his sleeve.

"Dru!" he boomed. "Get in here! You've got a brand new doll to play with!"

========================================================

*** LATER ***

"Dru? What are you doing?" Spike peered down at his lover, who was sitting atop Xander's thighs, carefully carving something on his back with a straight razor. Weak, muffled moans emerged whenever the blade bit into flesh.

"I'm writing a poem to see how long it takes to disappear."

"Um, you do know that's the alphabet, don't you, love?" Spike flicked his Zippo, and lit his cigarette.

"Silly Spike! All the poems in the world are there, if you know how to read them properly."

"Riiight...darling, why don't you give it a rest, hmm? You've been at this for days."

"Yeah, babe, time for some new action!" Angelus grabbed Spike's wheelchair handles, and popped a wheelie. Spike swore and fumbled in his lap for his dropped cigarette. "Uncle Spikey here can babysit the kid, 'cause we've got places to go, and people to kill!"

"Goodie!" Drusilla rose to her feet, and licked the blood from her fingers. "I could use a good spot of killing. While Alexander tastes divine, he doesn't ever die."

"Upsy daisy!" Angelus hummed while he hauled Xander off the floor, and dragged him to the chains hanging from the wall. Xander's body was a startling palette of bruises and welts, with barely a square inch that wasn't swirling with color. Bite marks branded his neck, buttocks, and thighs. Fresh blood seeped from the letters etched across Xander's back, but Angelus wasn't concerned. The bleeding would stop soon. It always did.

When Angelus snapped the manacles around his wrists, Xander groaned, barely cognizant of his surroundings. Angelus locked the cuffs and pocketed the key.

/...beach...I'm at the beach...the sun is shining and the gulls are flying and we're going to build a bonfire.../

Angelus patted Xander's bloody, bruised cheek. "Hey, guess what?" Xander stirred and looked at him. "Tonight, Dru and I are going out to pick up a bucket of cheerleaders! What do you prefer, breasts or thighs? White meat or dark? Junior or Varsity?"

Xander's eyes narrowed to angry slits, and he mumbled something that might have been a curse, but it was hard to discern with his shattered jaw. Speaking was difficult, an understandable side effect after getting kicked in the face for insulting Angelus earlier. He sputtered and spit a bloody gob of phlegm at his tormentor, which Angelus easily dodged.

"No problem, I'll make sure to tell Cordelia you said hello. Mmm, mmm. She sure is a pretty one! Grade A, tender and juicy. I may have to do her before I cut her to pieces. You don't mind, do you?"

"D'nt...don' touch h'r!" Xander's voice came out as a raw, nearly unrecognizable rasp.

"Alexander loves the princess, I saw it in his dreams," said Drusilla. "I think we should make her one of us. Starve her for a few days, and then reunite them. You can feed her his heart, and it will be so romantic!"

"No, don't do th' to her!" Xander protested, shaking his head vehemently. "Leave h'r alone!"

"What a positively smashing idea, babe! You make me so proud." He put his arm around Drusilla's waist, and escorted her out of the room. Looking back, he called out, "Spike, take care of our boy here, but no snacking! He needs to build his strength back up. I'll bring you back a doggie bag instead. You like beagles, right?"

"Thanks, you're a real peach," muttered Spike. "Bastard."

"C'm back h're!" Xander flopped against the wall and tried to regain his footing. "A'gel! No! D'nt hurt her!" But the two vampires were gone, and he was alone with Spike.

Xander howled piteously, wracked with helpless anguish and railing against his chains. Too weak to stand, he hung slumped from the cuffs binding his wrists over his head, his swollen, mangled fingers jutting out at odd angles.

/No, please God, don't let them hurt Cordelia! Please let her be with Buffy! She can't die. There's too much I haven't said to her, so much she needs to understand...but I'll never be able to tell her. I'm never going to get out of here, am I? Drusilla said Buffy wouldn't save me, and she's some sort of spooky psychic. Is...is Buffy even looking for me? Does she even care? No, don't think that. Of course she's trying to find me. Don't listen to Angel's stupid attempts to psyche me out. I have to stay strong./

"I'll kill y' A'gel!" he screamed. "Do y' hear me? I'll kill you!"

"Shut up, already! Christ Almighty, I've had quite enough of you! I'm about to go insane after listening to your blood-curdling arias for three days. Why don't you stop being such an insolent wanker and try being a nice doggy so I can get some peace and quiet around here?"

"Go t' hell," spat Xander.

"Don't get smart with me. I don't like this situation any more than you do. Thanks to Angelus, you'll bring us nothing but 100 pounds of brassed off, blonde trouble, and that I really don't need. If I hadn't bribed that snitch to feed false information to your friends, she would have found this place and dusted me and Dru by now."

"An' th' down side t' that would be...?"

"Sod off! I can see why he likes to beat the crap out of you. He can have at you for all I care, but I don't like how you're monopolizing Drusilla's attention as well. She's spending too much time playing house with you and her bloody Daddykins, like some kind of twisted nuclear family, and I don't like them getting so...familiar. Personally, I'd like to weight you down and toss you in the lake, but the poofter would find you eventually and be right pissed at me for getting his rent boy all soggy."

Xander stared at Spike, not sure whether he should be frightened. He was paralyzed, he couldn't pose a threat, could he?

"Y' don' hate me...y' hate A'gel." Xander struggled to his feet.

"This is true. You're not the one who really deserves to become fish food. But I can't kill Angelus, or Drusilla would never speak to me again. She's always been Daddy's Little Girl, which is why I liked to keep at least a continent between him and us. Since my killing him isn't a viable option, that means you, my young friend, have got to go." Spike rubbed out his cigarette on the wheel of his chair.

Xander's eyes widened when Spike casually stepped out of his wheelchair and walked over to the wooden chest.

/What? He can walk? What a big faker!/

Spike brushed Drusilla's dolls aside, and opened the chest. The hinges creaked, and after rustling around with the contents inside, he pulled out a machete. Grinning, Spike chopped the air with the blade a few times. "Haven't used this in awhile, but it still looks sharp!"

/What is he doing with that? No fair, he's supposed to be the weak one who leaves me alone!/

Spike traced the machete blade down Xander's trembling chest. "I knew someone like you once. An apple." He stopped when he reached Xander's navel, and hoisted the blade against his shoulder. "Dru and I saw her in Scotland. She'd gone so mad, she didn't even know her own name anymore. Her owner kept her locked in a tower like Rapunzel, except without the massive hair extensions or handsome prince to rescue her."

Xander winced when Spike traced a finger along a cut on his face. Spike tasted his blood, his smile malevolent and cruel. Xander had every reason in the world to be deathly afraid of Spike, and cursed himself for underestimating him. "Oops, forgot. No snacking. You won't tell, will you?"

Xander shrank back against the wall. "A'gel will kill y'..."

"He can try," Spike said coldly. He played the machete, twirling the handle in his grip. "Now, where was I? Oh yeah. Every night, the apple would jump from the tower window, desperate to end her pitiful existence, but of course she couldn't die. Stupid ninny. Her master would simply scoop her up, trot her back up to her room, and it would start all over again. Every night, you could set your watch by her. Kind of funny, actually. We used to wager how far away from the castle she'd land. I won 50 pounds once."

/I don't get this. What's with the fractured fairy tale? Why isn't Spike chowing down?/

"Why d' y' care?" Xander groaned.

"I don't care. I'm just giving you an idea of what you can look forward to with Angelus. But today is your lucky day. I'm also giving you a chance to get out from under his thumb."

"Huh?" Xander was shocked. Spike, the Big Bad, the vampire who'd nearly murdered him and his friends on several occasions, was offering to help him? Xander began to wonder if he had taken one too many blows to the head. "Why?"

"Look, idiot, we both want Angelus dead, and the person with the best chance of making that happen is the Slayer. But as long as you two are bonded, she's not going to do her bloody job. That means I'm stuck with both of you, and the thought of spending eternity watching you poofs dance the Nutcracker Suite together makes me want to stake myself."

This was a lot for Xander to take in. Should he trust Spike? Definitely not, but what other options did he have at the moment? He had to get out of here. He needed to warn Buffy that the vampires were on the prowl tonight, or Cordelia was doomed.

/Buffy has to stop them. But, if she kills Angelus.../

Xander looked down at the scarlet letter, then back at Spike, the question obvious. Did he know how to break the curse?

"Oh yes, this." Spike traced his finger around the A. "Not sure yet...but I do have a plan, which involves getting you out of here. There's a slight problem, though." Spike grasped the manacles. "Angelus has the only key, and these things are too blasted strong to hack through. We could wait a day or two for a better opportunity to escape, but I have a feeling you're getting tired of being violated sixty-nine ways to Sunday. I propose you leave tonight."

He raised the machete to Xander's wrist. "What do you say? Are you ready to go home?"

*****