Xander waited patiently for Oz in their bedroom while the alpha wolf took care of some lingering pack business. The Raphe needed to talk to Oz. No, it was more than that. He and Oz needed to have a heart to heart, man to man conversation. Why? Because Xander wasn't happy.

His unhappiness wasn't a sudden thing; he hadn't been blissful before the events of the day and night that had just passed. This not-happiness had been building for some time. Specifically, ever since Oz had gone full alpha on him. There were times when Xander wasn't completely sure he knew Oz anymore. The werewolf treated the others in his pack with a sort of autocratic benevolence, and sometimes it bled over into his and Xander's relationship. That rankled Xander, who knew all too well that he wasn't a werewolf.

"You're still awake," Oz murmured as he walked into the room.

"Uh huh," Xander replied. "Everything go ok?"

"Yeah," Oz said quietly. "What's bothering you?" He could tell that Xander wasn't content, and figured that it was best to get it out into the open.

Xander sighed. "Nothing, really."

Oz stared at him, making the Raphe twitch.

"It's just...Oz, you *ordered* the pack out on some sort of hunt and *killed* someone. You reek of blood, you know," Xander began.

"It had to be done," Oz said flatly.

"Yeah," Xander snapped. "I'm sure it did. But you didn't ask."

"Ask what?" Oz inquired, curious. What had he not asked?

"What I thought. Or what Wes felt about you ordering Fred out into the dark, to go chasing mean things," Xander replied hotly. "Or Angel and Wil, who might've been able to help you."

"We handled it," Oz insisted. "It was for the pack to do."

"And we're not pack," Xander said bitterly. "Nope, definitely *not* pack. We just sit around here, worrying if you're going to *die* out there. But we're not pack," Xander railed, standing up to pace the room. "We risk our lives for you, watch the cubs, love you, follow you to hell and back, but *we're not pack!*" Xander shouted, making the windows rattle. Silence reigned for several very long moments.

Oz backed up a few steps. Xander was really mad. "It wasn't--"

"I know," Xander grated out. "It wasn't *our* problem. Nope, not ours at all. Some evil thing is threatening the cubs and eventually you and the others but it's not *our* problem. Watching the people we love suffer and die, or get killed on some harebrained vengeance kick..." His voice trailed off, choked away by tears. "And you just ordered them to do it, and they did! Who are you to tell them to risk their lives, all for your blasted anger?"

"I'm their alpha," Oz said softly. "It's my job."

"To get them killed?" Xander screamed.

"No, to protect them," Oz replied. "Sometimes that's dangerous, but it has to be done."

Xander glared at a wall, willing it to crumble into dust. This was not his life. His lover wasn't this stranger. The Raphe stared up at the ceiling, slowly counting to a thousand. "Who the hell are you?" He whispered brokenly. "Who? You snap and growl and order the pack around. You don't ask my anything anymore, you just do it. I know I'm not pack," Xander said, eyes blurring, "But do you have to treat me like some kind of whore?"

"What?" Oz said, his confusion obvious.

Xander ignored the werewolf. "I warm your bed, that's all. There's no communication, no talking. You command your troops and I work and feed a baby. You know, I talk to Wil more than to you. Hells, I talk to everyone more than to you, including the washing machine. It's pathetic. I'm pathetic, having a better relationship with a piece of machinery than my own lover!"

Oz flinched. Yeah, he'd been a bit preoccupied ever since they'd moved to Syracuse and the cubs had arrived. All of a sudden his pack had more than doubled, to include five infants that needed constant watching. The presence of children often solidified a pack, and theirs was no different. He'd had no idea, however, that his relationship with Xander had deteriorated so much. Or that his way of leading the pack was so offensive to the others.

Xander lifted teary eyes to the werewolf. "I just can't do this anymore, Oz. I don't know who you are anymore." The Raphe ran, past Oz and out the door, down the stairs and through the hall. The stunned werewolf heard the front door slam. Xander was gone.

...

Angel waited patiently while Oz finished up whatever he needed to say to Fred. Once all the werewolves were safely upstairs, he reached over for Wil's hand. The blonde stood and followed Angel downstairs, to the sanctuary of their own room. The night had been stressful for all of them, between the hunt and the scared children. Now that all the cubs were back in bed and the pack was home, the vampires could relax.

The sound of a raised voice sent Wil over to his stereo. Xander was shouting, probably at Oz, and Wil didn't want to hear. He turned on the stereo, letting whatever he'd left in it last time start playing, as loud as he could get it. Angel nodded once, both understanding and agreeing. "This is a mess," Angel commented as he began to undress.

"Yeah," Wil agreed, also getting ready for bed. He could well imagine the tension that would fill the house for the next few weeks, until someone exploded.

Angel pulled back the covers and waited for Wil to climb into bed. "They'd better get it straightened out," He murmured as he joined Wil underneath slick, white sheets. "We're not going to be here that much longer."

"I know," Wil replied, burrowing into Angel's arms. "But they will. They have to."

Angel nodded silently, rubbing Wil's back as he thought about the situation. "Is there anything we can do?"

Wil shook his head, rubbing soft curls against Angel's neck. "Stay out of the way. Choosing sides, or even trying to mediate, will just make things worse. This is something that Xander, as well as Wesley, must deal with. We've no part of it." The blonde began to move slightly, in time with the music filling their room. It was working quite well at masking the raised voices above them; if Wil focused only on the music and Angel, he couldn't make out what was being said.

Angel sighed into Wil's hair, loving the way the stuff always managed to tickle him. "We've come so far, it's hard to watch things fall apart," The dark vampire whispered.

"It's not falling apart," Wil said vehemently, "We had our moments too, you know."

Angel winced. "I know," He admitted. "But like this?"

Wil shrugged. "Call it whatever you want, Angel," He murmured. "But things *will* get better."

"What is this music?" Angel asked, distracted by the sound filling the room.

Wil frowned. "Cheb Mami. Why, do you hate it?"

"No," Angel replied. "It's different, that's all. Should've expected no less, though."

Wil turned so that he could see Angel's face. "You're making some kind of backhanded comment about my taste in music, aren't you?" He accused, eyes narrowing. "Just come out and say it, Angel."

Angel's face was a portrait of confusion. What had he said to make Wil suddenly so upset? "I--I have no problem with the music, Wil. I was simply saying that I should've known that you'd have something so exotic in your collection."

"Awful, you mean," Wil snapped. "I know you, Angel. You don't make comments like that unless you hate something."

"That's not true!" Angel defended. "I like it, the music. It's fine. Why are you making such a big deal of this?"

Wil growled. "Why are *you* making such a big deal of it? Why bring up the music if you didn't have a problem?"

"It's different and caught my attention," Angel explained. "No other reason."

"Right," Wil spat. "Different. Which means what in Angel-speak? Awful."

Angel growled. What on earth was *wrong* with Wil? "No, it's not awful. Or bad, or ugly, or any of those other nasty words. I. Like. It. Ok? It's good music, upbeat, has rhythm, is catchy, danceable, and I even like the lyrics. And yes, I understand them. Now please, *please* stop accusing me of hating it!"

Wil bit his lip to keep from smiling. He loved winding Angel up like this, watching his lover scowl and scramble for some way to defend himself. "Good to hear. Xander thinks its awful."

Angel stared at Wil, beginning to suspect he was being had. "Wil?"

"Yes, Angel?" Wil said innocently.

"What was that?" Angel inquired.

"What was what?"

"That whole 'you hate it' thing a minute ago," Angel explained.

Wil grinned. "Just playing," He said brightly. "Don't want you to go soft on me."

Angel blinked. Then he smiled, baring sharp fangs. "Playing? Hmm... I can play too, you know." Wil barely had time to frown before Angel was up and out of the bed, rummaging through a drawer in his dresser. A moment later, he was back, grinning evilly. Wil started to get a little bit nervous.

"Angel..." Wil began, edging away from the middle of the bed. Angel pounced, pinning Wil down against the mattress. The blonde struggled briefly, but Angel was heavier. Besides, the dark vampire was most definitely not trying to hurt him; the soft whisper of lips against his neck told Wil this wasn't going to be about pain. Angel never hurt him in their bed. That didn't mean torture didn't occasionally enter the picture, though.

Angel opened the jar he'd procured and used its contents to slick up the white marble dildo he held. Wil initially resisted when Angel pushed his knees between the blonde's legs, still engaged in their spot of fighting. A long, hot kiss distracted his lover, though, and soon Angel had Wil spread out, exposed and waiting.

Wil's eyes flew open as Angel began to slowly push something thick and hard inside him. He winced against the straining pressure as the dildo stretched him all at once. Angel watched, enthralled, as Wil gasped and panted through the invasion, forcing himself to relax and accept the intrusion. He hadn't prepared the blonde beforehand, knowing that this was much more intense.

When the dildo was fully seated inside the blonde, Angel released his hold on it and leaned over Wil, kissing him gently on the forehead. His lover was a vision, as always, eyes flashing blue and gold, body blending into white silk and satin. Angel let his lips trail down Wil's face, pressing kisses here and there, nipping ivory skin as he worked his way down. He suckled on one tight nipple, relishing the sounds of Wil begging for anything, something, whatever Angel would give him. One of Angel's hands slid down to fondle Wil's testicles, knowing that it would make the blonde clench around the dildo. That in turn would rub the toy's ridges against the blonde's prostate, making him--

"Angel!" Wil screamed, back arching off the bed. Slender fingers scrabbled for purchase on slick sheets. Soon those fingers were reaching for Angel, trying to convince the dark vampire to do something else, to take pity on his poor, suffering childe. Wil's eyes rolled back in his head, jaw gaping open at the intense, almost frightening sensations running through his body. He was wound tight, aching, stretched into wanting so much...

Angel moved away from Wil's chest, licking a path down toward the blonde's groin. He laved Wil's weeping cock, cleaning his lover with meticulous care. Wil was so beautiful like this; Angel never wanted to leave their bedroom when his childe was laid out, open and wanting and needing him.

"Please, Angel," Wil begged, tears falling down sharp cheekbones. He needed Angel, needed his Sire to take him, fill him and banish this aching, terrifying *need* he had. The need that Angel had invoked, by touching, kissing and denying him.

Angel leaned up, capturing Wil's open mouth in a soft, deep kiss. At the same time, he eased the toy out of his childe's body, replacing it with his own hardness. Wil sighed into Angel's mouth, rolling his hips in welcome as Angel filled him. They moved together, point and counterpoint, one creature with two bodies. Angel took inside him Wil's cries and moans, just as Wil accepted Angel, voice and cock completing him.

When Wil's arms tightened around him, echoing how his body swallowed Angel whole, the dark vampire shuddered uncontrollably. The blonde's eyes were wide and unseeing, sky blue backlit by iridescent gold, hypnotizing him with their perfection. He couldn't stop himself from joining Wil, from tumbling down into the depths of his childe and lying there, surrounded by the warmth of this demon's love.

The reflexive panting of two sated vampires and the plaintive wail of Cheb Mami couldn't quite drown out the sound of feet hitting the stairs or the front door slamming hard. "That sounds bad," Wil murmured into Angel's neck, slowly stroking the dark vampire's back with one lazy hand.

"There goes Oz," Angel replied as a second spate of stair-stomping interrupted their afterglow.

"We're not getting involved," Wil stated firmly. "They can bloody well figure it out on their own."

"As you've said before." Angel flipped them over, cradling Wil against his chest. "And I happen to agree."

"We should put something on," Wil said, yawning. "The cubs will be up before too long."

Angel growled. "Later," He muttered grumpily. The dark vampire did not want to put unnecessary layers of clothes between himself and Wil. The cubs were going to have to learn restraint.

*****
Part 88:

Xander leapt off the front stoop and hit the ground at a run, plunging into stygian darkness. Dawn would come soon enough, but for now Xander would use the night to his advantage. Prominent stripes appeared on his face as he streaked through the city, avoiding streets in favor of playing steeplechase over every surface he could find. He did approach one intersection, waiting under a busted street lamp until a delivery truck drove by. He hopped on the back, holding onto the door handle easily as the vehicle wound its way through town. He'd been leaving a bit of a trail, but that wouldn't do. No, he needed to get away, far away from Oz and the pack and everything bearing down on him.

Eventually Xander abandoned his free ride and resumed running, by now on the outskirts of the city proper. There was room to run here; he'd come out this way with Oz before, practicing and playing. Once he got past the last subdivision, Xander let loose, allowing his demonic side to take over. He'd never run so fast, so far; wind whipped across his face, pulling at his hair. He reveled in the speed, the pressure of air against his skin. It was nearly enough to wipe away the pain, the hurt and anger he felt.

Xander wasn't sure what was worse, the fact that Oz was all alpha-wolf now and treated him like a convenient fuck or that Oz himself didn't see it. The Raphe was used to being used; all of his previous relationships had revolved around someone else using his dick (or other parts) for their own personal pleasure. He'd long accepted that he was little more than an animated blow-up doll, a stand in for the real thing. And that's when he wasn't being used as food by some creepy demon.

But Oz hadn't been that way; the werewolf had made a point of learning who Xander was, what made him tick. Their relationship hadn't been just sex, as had been Xander's past ones. They shared stories, hopes and fears, comforted each other when they were hurt. All of that had lulled Xander into complacency, into thinking that for once, just once, he was going to get the sweet end of the lollypop.

/Yeah, right,/ Xander told himself harshly. It was becoming quite obvious to the Raphe that he wasn't what Oz needed, or even really wanted. The werewolf needed another of his own kind, someone who understood their place in Oz's world. Someone who would not only stand by and let Oz take charge of their lives, but enjoy it. Xander, on the other hand, always chafed at such orders and never really got used to Oz being in a position of authority over the pack. When nothing was happening, it wasn't a big deal. But in times like this, Xander worried. He fretted that the power Oz had would change the werewolf, make him into someone Xander didn't know.

It certainly seemed to be going that way. Oz had *ordered* their friends to kill someone, and they had. What if Oz *ordered* Fred to abandon Wesley, in favor of someone who wasn't a prey species? What if Oz decided to distance himself from Xander, for just the same reason? The faun and the Raphe could be seen as nothing less than liabilities for the pack, weak links that would eventually be the werewolves' downfall. They couldn't breed, didn't hunt and were in truth targets for other werewolves. They were the soft underbelly of Oz's pack.

Xander slowed down, not out of physical energy but emotionally drained. He curled up under a highway overpass, tucked in the top crevice next to a pillar. Traffic was light, due to the hour, so Xander relaxed and listened to the insects chirp and squall as the earth began to slowly wake up with the sunrise.

...

Oz stood frozen in the bedroom, staring at where Xander had been standing. He was still trying to process everything that Xander had said, from 'whore' to 'I can't do this anymore.' A moment later he realized that Xander had actually run away. Out the door. Away.

The werewolf was on Xander's trail in the blink of an eye. Oz expanded his senses, at first easily tracking the Raphe's scent. His work became more difficult as he climbed fences and sheds, trying to keep up with the breakneck pace of a Raphe running at the peak of his abilities. Xander had even started leaping from point to point, making Oz's job even harder. The werewolf had to investigate every possible landing point to find a trace of Xander, and then repeat the procedure to find the next spot.

By the time Oz made it close to downtown, he was frantic with worry. Xander hadn't just run a mile or so and come home, winded but ready to talk. His lover had really taken off, exhibiting just how difficult a Raphe was to track. Still, Oz pushed on. He needed to find Xander, to talk to his lover. He had to explain, to try to get Xander to understand. The Raphe didn't hold any second place in Oz's heart or mind; his mate was the most important thing in his life.

And maybe they both needed to talk about the pack. Oz didn't like admitting such things, but Xander had a point about how he'd been handling the group's werewolves--and their mates. It was deceptively easy to ignore Xander and Wesley when making decisions; he just disregarded them completely. Looking back, though, Oz realized that the tactic had been a mistake. Xander and Wesley were just as much a part of the pack as any of the werewolves. For that matter, so were Wil and Angel. He'd been a fool to think otherwise, to try to make a distinction between the two groups, as though most of the time they were one family, but every full moon they split into two.

Oz followed Xander's trail until he reached a lonely street corner. He searched all around, but found nothing. No trace of the Raphe lay anywhere; it was as though Xander had vanished into thin air. Panic flooded the werewolf's senses. Where was Xander? Had something caught him, taken him, killed him? Oz hadn't noticed any other scents following Xander's trail, but then again he hadn't been looking for any.

The werewolf looked around frantically, trying to find any clue that might tell him where Xander was. Syracuse was a large enough city that he couldn't just search the entire place and Xander had never found one exact spot to call his favorite. Their usual running spots were scattered throughout the area, many of them several miles apart.

A lone, plaintive wail filled the night air as Oz took off, hoping against hope to find Xander before something else did. As daybreak came, however, he headed back towards home, thinking that just maybe Xander had gone there, where his friends were.

...

Xander woke up to the sound of a semi horn blaring in his ear. He looked up in time to see half of a double-wide mobile home roll past him, chase vehicle waving orange flags behind. It was hot and the air stank of asphalt and car exhaust. He'd slept much longer than he'd intended; it was nearly noon. The Raphe's stomach grumbled and Xander stood, only to find himself with weak knees and rubbery legs. Running as far as he had had taken a lot out of him; he wasn't going to be able to just run home this time.

The young man walked slowly and carefully towards town while he pondered his options. The easiest, and best, thing to do would be to call home and have someone drive out to pick him up. It was certainly a better idea than walking all the way home, particularly since he knew he wouldn't make it.

The mile and a half to the nearest convenience store was the longest, slowest walk of Xander's life. He regretted running off like that--not because it wasn't warranted but because it had been foolish. What if something had found him? He was weaponless, nearly penniless and hadn't told anyone where he was going. That was unforgivable, even if the reasoning behind his actions was justified.

Xander pulled out the last two quarters to his name and plunked them in the pay phone. "Hello?" Cordelia said, worry obvious in her voice.

"Cordy," Xander began, shouting over the noise of traffic.

"Xander? Where are you?" She cried, her voice screeching over the line.

Xander winced. "At a convenience store. Uh, I'm a fair piece from home..."

"Tell me where you are," Cordelia ordered. "We'll come get you." Her tone was firm and definitely of the do-not-argue variety.

Xander told her where he was and sat down to wait. It would take them at least an hour to reach him, between the distance he'd come and daytime traffic. He found a comfortable concrete block at the edge of the property and tried not to look too seedy, lest he get ordered away.

He was just getting into another round of berating himself for his stupidity when a familiar blue sedan pulled into the parking lot. At first Xander thought the dark head inside was Wesley's, but he was soon proven wrong as a dark blue-haired Oz stepped out. Xander started shivering uncontrollably, the exertions of the previous night and his emotional distress crashing down onto him all at once.

Oz flinched when he saw Xander's reaction to his presence. It had taken quite a bit of persuasion to convince the others to let him go get the Raphe; Oz had pointedly chosen not to simply order the pack to stand down. Instead, he'd explained that he and Xander needed to work this out, that he wasn't going to hurt Xander or let the man hurt himself or do anything stupid. Now that he'd actually made it to where Xander was, he had to get the Raphe into the car, get some food into his stomach, and resolve this...between them.

"H-hey, Oz," Xander mumbled as the werewolf came to a stop next to his perch. "How's it going?"

Oz smiled sadly and reached for Xander, holding out his hand. He waited while Xander thought about whether or not to take it. Eventually Xander accepted, standing up to join Oz at the car. The werewolf urged Xander to sit, waiting until the Raphe was situated before closing the door.

"Thanks," Xander said softly as Oz got behind the wheel. The werewolf nodded and reached into the back seat, fetching a large thermos. He handed it to Xander, who looked at it askance. "Er, ah..."

"Drink it," Oz said gently. "Fred made it for you."

Xander nodded and uncapped the thermos. It was filled with his favorite kind of smoothie, Fred's signature shut-up-and-drink-it free for all. The beverage was also just what he needed to counteract the exertion-driven fatigue that had him slumped down in his seat. "I'm sorry," Xander said around a mouthful of drink.

Oz shook his head. "Don't be. You were right."

Xander turned to look at Oz, surprise clear on his face. "Huh?"

The werewolf sighed. "You were right, about all of it."

"How so?" Xander inquired, curious and shocked. It wasn't that Oz wouldn't ever admit a mistake, but Xander was sure Oz didn't see his behavior as wrong.

Oz searched for the appropriate words. "You're not convenient, Xander." /That didn't come out right,/ Oz berated himself. "I mean, I don't keep you around because you're convenient." The werewolf paused. "I love you; you're the biggest, most important part of my life."

Xander said nothing.

"I never meant to make you feel like you weren't," Oz continued, voice catching. "Just like I never meant to make you and Wesley think you weren't important, weren't part of the pack."

"I didn't think you did it consciously," Xander reminded Oz. "It's just that you..."

"I never stopped to ask, what anyone wanted or thought," Oz said harshly. "I just acted on instinct, without ever questioning it. That was stupid; after all," He continued, "We're the werewolves who live outside the moon's influence. We don't rely on instinct. Why did I?"

"It's all you know?" Xander guessed. "How many packs have you lead, Oz?"

"That's no excuse," Oz retorted. "I managed to run you off, make you leave. Wes is...we talked today, before you called. He's getting better, but that's going to take a long time too."

Xander got the impression that Oz didn't think the Raphe would ever forgive him. "So will this," Xander admitted. "But if you want it--"

"I want you," Oz said vehemently. "Where you belong." Xander raised one wary eyebrow. "At my side," Oz murmured. "On the hunt and in our bed."

"Pack?" Xander asked in a whisper.

"Pack," Oz confirmed. "With Wesley, Wil and Angel. We're a family, all of us. It doesn't make sense for you not to be pack too."

"Even if we're not wolves?" Xander inquired.

Oz shrugged. "I used to think it mattered, but it doesn't. Pack isn't just the werewolves, not really."

Xander nodded and relaxed into his seat. He was tired and ready for sleep, ready to give his body time to recover. "Home?" He asked hopefully, glancing at the still-pensive Oz.

Oz started up the car. "But Xander?"

"Yeah?" Xander murmured.

"Running off was stupid."

The Raphe laughed weakly. "Believe me, I know. Not doing that again."

"The next time we argue, take a phone with you," Oz suggested. "And don't think you're going to just go to bed when we get back."

Xander groaned. "Who?"

"Cordy is not impressed," Oz replied. "Nor is Fred, Wil, Angel, Gunn or Wesley."

"Gods."

"The cubs are wondering where you are," Oz continued.

"Do we have to go back?" Xander asked.

"Yes, and you have to listen to them," Oz stated.

"Why?"

Oz glanced over at the young demon. "Because I had to hear them out, twice--once for running off without telling them where I was going and once for running you off in the middle of the night."

"Great."

"Could be worse, you know," Oz reminded him.

"How?" Xander asked.

"You're only going to get yelled at once. I got it twice."

"Oh yeah, that's right." Xander smiled sleepily. It was nice to hear that the others actually defended him while he was gone.

"Rest now," Oz ordered gently. "And we'll try to fend them off when we get home."

"It's a deal," Xander murmured, already drifting off to sleep.

*****
Part 89:

"Do we have to go?" Cordelia asked Angel as they stared into the refrigerator.

"It's time," Angel replied slowly. "We've done all we can to weaken Wolfram & Hart; now we..."

"Go in for the kill," She finished for him. "Chicken or salmon tonight?"

"Salmon," Angel said. "With capers?" He added hopefully.

"With capers," Cordelia assured him. "But what about the cubs?"

"We'll protect them," Angel murmured. "They'll stay at the hotel, always under guard." He didn't like the idea of having the children so close to their nemesis either. However, if they ever wanted to have a settled life for the five youngsters, they had to finish this business with Wolfram & Hart.

"Whatever," Cordelia grumbled. "Could you go see what Julian and Mischa are up to? I haven't heard anything from their room in hours." It sounded to the dark vampire like she really said, 'Get away from me before I kill you with this wooden spoon I'm holding.'

Angel nodded and left the seer alone in the kitchen as he wandered back to the children's room. The slightest of giggles caught his attention as he peered around the doorframe.

"Jelly!" Julian cried as he looked up. Angel swore the cub had a sixth sense when it came to knowing where the vampire was. "Look at Wil. Isn't he pretty?"

Angel nodded, biting his lips to keep from laughing. All five cubs were in the bedroom, along with Wil and Oz. The place was a total disaster; clothes, blankets and toys strewn everywhere. But it wasn't that mess that had Angel nearly doubled over; no, it was Wil's and Oz's appearance. The children had found Cordelia's makeup.

Wil's blond curls had been ratted into a dandelion-like puffball, with Thalia's favorite pink poodle barrettes interspersed throughout. A suspicious glob of hair gel--at least, Angel *thought* it was hair gel--was sort of dripping down Wil's ear and onto his shirt. One or more of the cubs had applied eyeliner to the vampire's brow, but instead of highlighting, they had drawn a second, scratchy set of eyebrows rather high up on Wil's forehead. It gave him the appearance of being permanently horrified. Thick black kohl ringed his eyes, lines of it straggling here and there drawn with all the skill a three year old could muster. Incredibly dark lipstick was smeared around the blonde's mouth and chin, and even a bit on his nose. And of course there was the blusher, which covered almost everything on Wil's face that didn't have other makeup on it.

The dark vampire turned to Oz, hoping that the alpha werewolf had faired better and would thus prevent Angel from laughing out loud and angering both the cubs and the adults. Unfortunately it was not to be. Whatever cosmetic gel that had been applied to Wil's ear completely covered Oz's purple hair, slicking it back in a wet glob. The werewolf's face was snow white dotted randomly with hot pink and his eyebrows had been done in lipstick. Red lipstick. His eyelids had been smeared with black lipstick, all the way down to his cheekbones. Something that looked like mascara was caked on Oz's lips and nose.

The werewolf and the blonde vampire stared hard at Angel, daring him to laugh.

"Do you wanna makeover too?" Fran asked hopefully, holding up a tube of liquid eyeliner. Angel shook his head vigorously, making his earrings swing and twinkle in the bright incandescent lights of the room.

Julian's lower lip began to quiver. "You don't like it." He whimpered, eyes tearing up.

Angel flinched. "I like it fine," The vampire managed to get out. "But I'm not pretty enough for a makeover. It wouldn't do any good."

Mischa squealed, as did Siobhan. "Yes you are! Oz is pretty now, so you will be too."

Angel thought that Oz might have looked a bit insulted by that statement, but it was hard to tell underneath all the makeup. "Well, I'm sure you're tired of giving makeovers, since you spent so much time on them."

"Get down here," Wil growled.

Angel smiled nervously. "Uh, maybe I'll go help your mom make dinner. It's salmon tonight!"

"With green things?" Siobhan asked, wrinkling her nose.

Angel nodded.

"Don't help her!" Thalia exclaimed. "Play with us! And maybe there won't be green things."

Angel began to pull his head out of the room. Oz and Wil both growled, just as all five cubs rushed the vampire. He could've gotten away, but they all had such bright, hopeful faces turned up to him. "Ok, ok," He conceded. "But you don't have to do anything to my hair," He added as the cubs led him into the room, sitting him between Oz and Wil. The two previous victims were sitting stoically, but that might have been because the makeup made it hard to move their faces.

...

"Are those capers?" Gunn asked as he hugged Cordelia from behind, peeking over her shoulder. "I hate capers."

"You and half the kids," Cordelia muttered. "But Angel loves them."

"Which explains so much about the rest of his diet," Gunn said. Cordelia didn't make any kind of remark about his jab, which concerned him. "Something bothering you?"

She shrugged. "I don't want to leave."

Gunn slumped down into a chair. "Too late for that, Delia. Xander and Wes are out of their jobs Friday, the lease is up, and we've already started packing and getting rid of stuff."

"I know," She said sharply. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Never thought I'd hear you say you didn't want to go back to the big city, where it's warm and there's always a sale," Gunn commented.

"And a bunch of evil, nasty lawyers who could hurt our babies," She snapped.

"Who aren't going to get within fifty feet of our babies," Gunn said evenly. "Do you think I'd take them somewhere where they won't be safe?"

"Isn't that what we're doing?" Cordelia said harshly. "Yeah, we've done a lot to bring Wolfram & Hart down. But what if it's not enough? Then what? The cubs will be right there, easy to reach."

"Between the eight of us and Buffy's gang, I think we can manage it," Gunn replied. Cordelia said nothing, simply continuing to stir whatever was in the pot in front of her. Gunn could tell, though, from her posture that she was still very angry.

When Xander came in from outside, followed by Fred and Wesley, they found the kitchen a rather uncomfortable place to be. Gunn and Cordelia were having a staring contest; well, Gunn was staring at Cordelia and she was staring at a pot. "Er, where are the kids?" Xander asked, looking around. "Thought we'd ask them if they wanted to help out with the cars." The cubs wouldn't actually do any helping, but they'd have a blast getting in the way. Packing was like that, slow and messy but exciting at the same time.

"Try their room," Gunn murmured. "They might be asleep. Were earlier." Wil and Oz had been watching the cubs ever since lunch.

The minute they walked into the cubs' bedroom, though, the three friends understood why the children had been so quiet. They were up to mischief.

Serious mischief. Angel was...gray. His skin glimmered and sparkled with iridescent eye shadow powder, caked on thickly. It gathered in the corners of his eyes, making fat tears stream down to his chin. The dark, muddy mass dripped down onto his pants, leaving more sparkly trails. Red lipstick curled in abstract patterns over his ears and the nape of his neck, and it looked as though someone had dumped an entire bottle of foundation in his hair and stirred it around. Around the two vampires and the alpha werewolf stood five small children, holding out tubes of makeup and studying their work with great concentration. A tiny hand reached out, leaving a crooked trail of black liquid crawling down Angel's nose.

Fred, Wesley and Xander collapsed onto the floor, laughing like hyenas. How the cubs had managed to convince Angel, Wil and Oz to hold still for that was beyond them. It must have taken hours to pile that much makeup on the three men. "Why..." Xander began, gasping, "Why didn't you...make them stop?"

Wil ignored Xander's cackling and turned to Mischa. "Mischa? I think Xander, Fred and Wesley would just love to have a makeover too."

Wesley stopped laughing when he saw Fran come at him with a container of tinted blemish cr�me. "No, Fran, I'm fi--" The faun was cut off as a handful of the tan lotion was smacked onto his forehead and rubbed in. Little hands slid into his hair and over his cheeks, smearing the liquid everywhere. The screech next to him told Wesley that Fred had not been spared. Indeed, when he managed to look over, he could just see his lover's face, covered in the remnants of a tube of lipstick. Most of Wesley's vision, though, was blocked by the stuff dirtying up his glasses.

"Cordelia!" Xander screamed as Siobhan and Julian caught him in a one-two punch, the little girl grabbing his hair with two gel-filled hands as Julian wielded a pot of paste rouge. Since Xander's mouth was wide open when Julian first tried to apply the blush that was where the stuff went, covering Xander's teeth with bright red makeup. The next attempt was little better as the boy's fingers slid up and around Xander's nose and eyes, leaving bloody trails of gunk everywhere. Siobhan didn't stay still, twisting her fingers around until Xander's hair stood straight up.

Wesley was about to join Xander's cry for the cubs' mother when One of the little imps hit him dead on with a huge body powder puff. A big cloud of white dust rose around him as the child backed away. Fred looked over to see Wesley, mouth hanging open, face now snowy. The talcum powder was even in his mouth, which didn't look right at all. The faun slowly took off his glasses to clear them, leaving two big flesh-colored spots exposed on his face. That was a mistake.

"No," Wesley moaned as something soft and greasy hit his eyelids. He knew they could overpower the children, get up off the floor and escape. It just went against everything they knew, however. The cubs had them wrapped around their little fingers, and none of them could deny the children anything--even the opportunity to torture adults with makeup.

"What the--?" Gunn said from the doorway. The room was... his friends were... "Delia!" He shouted. "The cubs got in your makeup!" The man stared down at his children, who had frozen at the sound of their father's voice. "Who told you that you could get into mom's makeup?"

Ten hands pointed at various people on the floor--cubs, fauns, Raphe, vampires, werewolves. Gunn rolled his eyes. "Funny. Hah, hah."

"Oh. My. God." Cordelia stared. Her children had done that? She didn't think she owned that much makeup. And that red was way too bright for Oz's complexion. "Who did this?" She asked, voice hard.

The cubs raised their hands. Gunn snorted. It was so very much like his children to ignore his authority.

Cordelia walked over to Thalia, who still had a tube of red lipstick in one hand. "Did you put this on Oz?"

The little girl nodded, eyes frightened.

The seer took the stick and set it down. "Honey, that's way too bright for Oz; he's really pale, like Wil. For them you should use something less...vivid. Like this," She said, reaching over for an abandoned tube of something peachy-pink and light. "See?" She murmured, drawing the stuff along Oz's arm. "Much better. For Wil too," She continued, streaking the stuff over the vampire's neck.

"Oh," Thalia whispered. Her mommy was so smart.

"Now, why don't we all wash our hands before dinner?" Cordelia asked as she stood back up. The cubs followed her out of the room, heading for the sink. She paused, turning back to look at the mess on the floor. "Not to be rude or anything, but guys? The Tammy Faye look is so five minutes ago."

...

"Stop that."

Angel glared at Wil as he got in the car. "It itches."

"It's been itching for three days," Wil muttered. "Soap. Just industrial soap."

"And when was the last time you scrubbed your scalp with industrial strength soap for an hour to get foundation out?" Angel inquired hotly.

"I was there, remember?" Wil said. "Dark lipstick, pale skin? Stains?"

Angel gave Mischa and Julian's child seats a once-over. The two cubs were secure and already asleep. At least the first part of their cross-country drive would be peaceful. Xander waved to them, trying to get the vampires to move more quickly. The other car and their newly acquired van were ready to go, and unlike Cordelia, Xander was actually eager to hit the road.

They'd barely made the city limits when Wil's cell phone rang. "What?" He asked quietly, knowing it was either Xander or Fred.

"Shouldn't we call ahead?" Xander asked for the ninetieth time. "I mean, what if they haven't dusted our rooms? It's been a decade! Can you imagine--"

Wil cut him off. "We'll let them know we're coming when we're closer," The blonde said quietly. "It's going to take us four days to get there."

"Right," Xander said after a moment. "So we call tomorrow?"

Wil hung up the phone. At least they were taking this trip slow and easy and would be stopping at a hotel before daybreak. Otherwise Xander would be dead long before they reached their destination. The young man could drive a corpse to the brink of insanity.

The phone rang again a couple of minutes later. "Hmm?" Wil murmured into the receiver.

"Can we get something to eat soon? I'm starved," Xander said brightly.

"There are crackers and juice in the floorboard behind you," Wil said flatly. "Eat that."

"But that's cold and boring!" Xander whined. "And all these places are op--"

Wil hung up the phone and tossed it onto the dashboard.

Angel was about to ask Wil for a snack about an hour later when the phone rang yet again. "Yes?" Wil said hesitantly.

"Xander needs to stop and use the restroom," Fred muttered.

"Why are you calling? Why isn't he?" Wil asked.

"He said you hung up on him the last two times he called," Fred replied.

"Bloody hell," Wil snarled, directing Angel to pull over somewhere. This trip was going to be hell. Utter hell.

"Don't curse," Angel said automatically as Wil voiced his opinion.

Wil's growl made the cubs giggle.

*****
Part 90:

"Buffy! You've got mail!" The computer screamed in the grating voice of a garfash demon. The Slayer grimaced and returned to her desk, hoping that it was a vision or something to keep her from having to actually dust the bookshelves.

"Anything interesting?" Dawn inquired from her perch on a ladder.

"Just opening now," Buffy murmured, scrolling through the message. "It's from George," She told Dawn. That was their code for vision e-mails. Dawn jumped off the ladder and trotted over to join Buffy at the computer. She snorted as Buffy continued to use the ancient mouse and stuck her hand through the display, pulling the e-mail up until the body could be read.

"You know, it wouldn't kill you to actually learn how to use this stuff," Dawn muttered, pointing at the computer. "If I'd known you weren't going to, I would've kept the dinosaur."

"Be quiet," Buffy said, focused on reading the message. "Holy fuck."

"What?" Dawn asked, reading over Buffy's shoulder. "Oh... holy oh wow."

Buffy stared at the display. They were coming back. All of them.

Ten years.

Of dust.

Dawn and Buffy turned at the same time, looking in horror at the single can of Pledge on the bookshelf across the room. "Get Willow," Buffy hissed. "We've got three days."

"I told you we should've been dusting in there," Dawn growled as she made for the stairs. "What should we make?"

"Make?" Buffy asked incredulously. "Make?"

"For their welcome home party!" Dawn said excitedly. "Even if it's going to be a secret, we have to have a party!"

Buffy grimaced. Yeah, Lorne would have her head if they didn't have a party. Her husband was ever the morale sergeant of the hotel. "Willow!" Buffy yelled, pounding on the redhead's bedroom door. "Get out here!"

A bleary-eyed Willow peeked out the door. "You told me I could sleep in," She moaned. The witch, along with a couple of Lorne's buddies, had been out all night on a case.

"They're coming back," Buffy said in a low voice.

Willow threw open the door. "When? Where? What?"

"In three days, here, and dust," Dawn replied, walking into her girlfriend's room. "As in, they'll be here in three days, at the hotel, and we need to clean up their old rooms."

"But we haven't been in there in years," Willow muttered. "They're..."

"Exactly," Buffy muttered. "And Giles... he'll have to be distracted."

Willow waved that off. "Faith's parole board hearing, remember?"

Dawn snorted. "She doesn't stand a chance." Until the particular board member that the Slayer had insulted left the board, Faith was stuck in prison. Not ethical, not right, but the way things went. She never should've called the lady a fat, gimpy sow. The brunette girl handed Willow a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. "Get changed, Red-haired Mary. We've got scutwork to do."

...

As soon as the van pulled to a stop, Xander shot out, running for the cabin they'd rented. He was inside, door closed, before anyone else had gotten out of their cars. "What got into him?" Fred asked Oz. "Is he sick?"

"Considering how he eats and drinks on the road, it is a distinct possibility," Wesley murmured. Fran reached for the faun, who swung him up to sit on his shoulders.

"He heard there were bunk beds," Cordelia said as she joined them, holding Siobhan. "Wanted to call dibs."

Gunn and Oz retrieved blankets for vampires and escorted them into the cabin, where Xander had actually paused to close all the curtains before jumping on one of the top bunks. Cordelia waltzed in, carrying Siobhan and Mischa. She deposited the girl in Xander's arms before letting Mischa down to run over to Wil. Julian soon joined the vampires, jumping on the mattress and trying to climb on the spring matrix of the bunk bed above them.

Once all the cubs were ensconced in the room, under the watchful eyes of Xander, Wil and Angel, the others retrieved food and clothing for the night. "Did you get the message off to Buffy?" Xander asked Angel as Thalia and Fran tried to remove his belt. Siobhan wasn't helping, either. She had a hold of his shoes and was tying the laces together. "Siobhan, honey, don't do that."

"Okay," She said brightly, cuddling up to the Raphe. Fran and Thalia quickly abandoned Xander's belt to get a hug too.

"Yeah, the message got off ok," Angel replied. "They know when we're supposed to arrive."

Julian stuck his head under a curtain, peering out over the lake behind their cabin. "Can we go out? After dark?"

"Yes," Angel replied. "But you can go out now, if your mom and dad want to." All of the cubs, but particularly Julian and Mischa, were acutely aware of scheduling things around the vampires' sun sensitivity. Wil and Angel, in turn tried to make sure the cubs got every opportunity to get out during the day and do things in the sun. Still, Julian and Mischa preferred nighttime.

"If Mom and Dad want to do what?" Gunn asked as he carried in one last cooler.

"The lake," Mischa said, smiling hopefully. "It's pretty. Shiny."

Gunn frowned. "There's a dock," Oz said quietly. "They could stay on it."

"Besides, this is their big adventure," Xander added, climbing down. He carefully hefted each cub off the top bunk, setting them on their feet. "That's why we're stopping here and not at some roadside hotel."

Gunn nodded reluctantly and watched as all five children swarmed him, Oz and Xander. They caught Fred and Cordelia on the way out the door, pulling the two women along the path to the lake.

Wil sighed as the last cub disappeared through the door, Gunn closing it behind him. "I hate this," He muttered, banging his head against the wall.

"What?" Angel inquired, turning to face the blonde. "What's so bad?"

Wil snorted. "Let's see... we're going back to Los Angeles, where we haven't been for a decade, to see people we haven't laid eyes on for that same decade, to face enemies we only think are weak enough to defeat. Oh, and let's not forget the five youngest members of Angel Investigations that are joining us."

"Have you been talking to Cordelia again?" Angel inquired lightly. "You're certainly sounding like her."

"I'm worried," Wil defended. "That isn't the same as not wanting to do this. I'm just worried."

Angel got up to pace the floor. He tried to busy himself putting everyone's overnight bag on the appropriate bunk. "We have to, Wil. Running only works for so long. The visions didn't stop for these past years. No, they've tied Buffy to LA. Honestly, I don't know how she's survived this long. It isn't right to make her keep working like that."

Wil jumped off the bed and strode up to Angel, eyes narrowed. "It's not about Buffy, is it, Angel?" He hissed, angry. "This isn't about Wolfram & Hart, or whether or not Dawn and Willow like working there, if they're even still at the hotel."

Angel backed up a step, but Wil followed him. "It's about your bloody redemption," Wil surmised. "Ten years of toddling around this blasted country has you worried that you're not doing enough."

The dark vampire's eyes slid closed. "No, Wil. I want..."

Wil cocked his head to one side. "What, Angel? What is it you want? Wolfram & Hart's collective head on a platter? Buffy, all cooing and grateful for your glorious return?"

Angel turned away. "None of it," He admitted. "Home." All he wanted was home.

"Home?" Wil echoed, hurt. Angel had told him once that he was Angel's home. Wherever he was, that was home.

Since he wasn't looking at Wil, Angel didn't see the damage he'd done. "The way we live... it's more than us now, Wil. The cubs, they think it's normal to have a couple of vampires watching over them. They don't care that there are mugs of blood on the dinner table, that one of their 'uncles' has horns and cloven hooves for feet. What kind of life is that?"

"So you want to what, farm them out to human parents?" Wil spat, furious. "Cart them off to some pocket of in-denial morons who'll instill them with all the necessary traits for survival--a blind eye, a lust for money and a keen sense of conformity?"

"No!" Angel growled, frustrated. "I want them to have friends their age, go to school... have a home. One that won't change in a couple of years, because we have to keep running."

Wil's anger drained away. Sometimes Angel mangled even the best-intentioned explanations. The blonde knew, though, that they'd all do anything for the cubs. It was more than just them now; Angel might have been Wil's home, but the cubs... they needed more than that.

Angel started as familiar arms wrapped around him. "They'll have that," Wil promised Angel. "Friends and enemies in the sandbox, homework, field trips and embarrassing moments when we follow them around on their dates."

The dark vampire chuckled, imagining sneaking through a packed teen club, spying on adolescent versions of Julian and Mischa. Then again, thinking about the cubs that big made him pause. They grew so quickly. "Yeah, they'll have that, right?" Wil shook his head and led Angel back to their bed. Sex didn't solve everything, but it was good for comfort and driving away sad thoughts, even if it was just temporary. Angel let Wil unbutton his shirt, but then pulled away. "They'll be back soon," Angel warned.

Wil rolled his eyes. "Not for at least two hours," He promised, reaching for Angel again. "Cordelia knows better than to let us have this place to ourselves for less than an hour." He made short work of the rest of Angel's clothes, and then removed his own. By the time he reached his slacks, Angel was helping him.

Angel reached for his beloved, tilting Wil's head back for a kiss. Cool lips slid, met and parted. Angel begged entrance; Wil relented. Their tongues mated, taunting and arguing against the roof of Wil's mouth as Angel fused their bodies together. He basked in the teasing almost-thereness of Wil's warmth, always present but just beyond reach. He knew it was the blonde's soul, a candle flame kept safely behind glass, lighting his way but never burning him. Angel wondered idly if Wil could feel the same in him. He doubted it; his soul was so much sootier than the blonde's ever could be; no one could find beauty in it as he did in Wil's. The blonde was... Angel was no poet and had not the words to describe how he felt about Wil, but the blonde vampire was the first thing he saw upon waking and the last thing he saw before sleeping, always there to keep Angel together.

Wil took advantage of Angel's single-minded focus on their kiss to maneuver the dark vampire back onto the bed, spreading his Sire out underneath him. Angel went willingly, letting Wil lead. He needed this, to have his steady lover ground him in lust, love and everything else that tied them together. The plasticky odor of baby oil filled the cabin as Wil prepared him, never breaking their kiss. Slender, slippery hands teased and pulled, eliciting groans and growls from the increasingly aroused brunette.

The blonde tossed aside the bottle of oil and let his hands rest on Angel's knees. He reluctantly pulled away from the dark vampire's mouth, waiting patiently until Angel met his gaze. "Wil," Angel whispered, need turning his eyes gold. "Plea--"

Wil brushed a finger over Angel's mouth, silencing him. He leaned forward, guiding himself slowly inside Angel, pushing past guardian muscle. "Sire," Wil sighed, pressing their foreheads together. Angel's arms came up to hold Wil to him, fingers tracing down that pale back. Wil was filling him, stretching him and taking away the horrible emptiness inside. Every time Wil took him, Angel wondered why he didn't just let his childe do this exclusively. Looking up at Wil's face, though, he knew why. As beautiful as Wil was like this, ribbons of ecstasy twisting his face, he was even more perfect when he cried out for Angel to come into him.

"Sire," Wil moaned, thrusting deeper into Angel, angling his movements to make the dark vampire cry out and twist to either escape or get more. He needed this as much as Angel, needed one more time together without the spectre of Buffy and Wolfram & Hart hanging over them. Out here, in the middle of nowhere America, he could at least pretend that they were just together, no Powers That Be, no visions, no redemption. Angel's body called to him, all please me and I shall please you more, I choose to submit and thereby dominate. Lover, it is you and I and our love together; make room for all of us, if you will. Wil couldn't resist the cries pouring from Angel's mouth, ordering him to join the dark vampire.

Angel heard himself begging, pleading with Wil to release him, stop torturing him with his cock. The blonde seemed to obey, though, plunging in harder, reaching between them to wrap trembling fingers around Angel's erection. That did it for the older vampire and he tightened around Wil, spilling his climax between them. Wil shuddered and bucked deep inside Angel, orgasm running through him like fire. He collapsed, arm still pinned between them. Angel held Wil close, not wanting to end their closeness any more than his lover did.

"Wil," Angel said several minutes later. "You know how much I adore you like this, smelling of me and you together. But they *will* be back soon."

Wil grumbled but nodded his understanding. The blonde slid down Angel's body, taking the dark vampire's spilled essence into his mouth. Angel gasped and squirmed under that expert tongue. "They'll knock before coming in," Wil promised as he gave Angel's reawakening cock an exploratory lick.

Angel sure hoped so.

*****