part 13
1. Rudyard Kipling 'An American' --

*****
Part 12:

The office had been crowed enough when it had only held Spike and Angel and their Watchers. Now it also had to accommodate Xander and his witches and Angel's other two minions. The witches shared a chair, easily fitting side by side with their tiny frames. Cordelia sat on Angel's new minion's lap and paid far too much attention to Xander as he spread out blueprints of a parking garage on Giles' desk. Whatever the witches had done to the office made it resonate like a cavernous space. It was eerily silent. As soon as the door had shut, all sound coming from outside had ceased. Even with his vampiric hearing Spike couldn't hear the ringing phone, the complaint-rock blaring out of the boom box or the general hubbub of all the humans milling around the store. Other than the sound of Xander paging through sheets on a clipboard and the shifting of too many people in too small a space, there was nothing. Spike unobtrusively maneuvered to stand immediately behind Xander - not so much watching over his shoulder as blocking the view of his ass from Angel's Watcher.

Spike suffered a fleeting moment of panic when Red said she hadn't been able to reach the nibblet. It was instantly quelled when the witches assured them they could locate her at any time by magic - even if someone was trying to shield her location. Xander never ceased to surprise him. After the fitting room incident Spike had gone off on a rant about how vulnerable the nibblet was and how he could track her physically but that there was mojo that could bollocks that up. Xander had not only listened, but also acted on Spike's observations. The others now listened to him as he outlined the sketchy information obtained from all their various sources and drew a conclusion that silenced and frightened them all. Red, for the first time since Glory, looked about ready to give up when Xander pointed out that all the signs indicated that the Initiative was back. In her half-hearted attempt at humor she asked Xander if they had time to implement the 'Omega Plan'. For the second time in a matter of moments Spike realized Xander had taken his randomly articulated fears and formed a planned defense to be used should the circumstances of his speculation ever materialize. Only once had Spike worried out loud that the reason Dawn had been sent to a Slayer was that the Powers That Be had determined that only a Slayer could keep her safe. After all, they hadn't put her in a one-time protection role; had Buffy lived she would have guarded her, like family, for the rest of her life. Yet again his young military genius had anticipated the end of the world and taken steps to prepare a defense. The looks on Angel's and his minions' faces were priceless as Xander casually informed them that they had the means to break the other Slayer out of prison at any time the situation warranted risking her psychotic behavior.

It was amusing to watch his Sire wrap his souled-up mind around the fact that this was Xander's town, and that while most of the demons of the Hellmouth acknowledged Spike as its Master, it was Xander who ran the show.

Spike wasn't like Angelus. He had never desired power or status. Spike was in no mood to cut a deal with something bigger and badder than himself, for a part in the greater evil. Angelus had always been making and breaking deals. He had been all wrapped up in whatever endgame would occur between good and evil, desiring to be one of the major players. Why? What more was there to undeath than what Spike had? All the blood he wanted, violence ensuing at a moment's notice, minions he could trust who were smart and capable, and a mate who was a great shag and had a gift for mass destruction.

The conference was interrupted when Xander took a call from one of his minions. All Xander's preparations made sense now that the Initiative was in town. Once off the phone, Xander briefly outlined what was happening all over Sunnydale at that time and what the result would be. A few clipped orders, given out regardless of whether they were issued to a member of the LA crew or the Sunnydale group, kicked off an organized evacuation of the magic shop. Spike watched to see if Angel would protest Xander's usurping of his minions. Just when it looked as if he would speak Xander used the word 'bombs' and both Angel and his pet Watcher suffered a brain meltdown.

After sending the rest out to start the evacuation, Xander asked Spike and Angel to come with him. The inclusion of Angel forestalled Spike's hope for a pre-battle shag, but he eagerly anticipated Xander's next move. Angel may not like Xander's unpredictable actions, but Spike loved them. Spike blinked in disbelief when Xander presented both of them with long black suits of heavy material. Xander brooked no protest from either of the vampires and quickly explained why he had procured the thermal suits. Spike remembered how quickly the soldier boys had followed the tracking device implanted in him before it had been removed, and how they had efficiently located the single walking corpse in a dorm full of warm-blooded humans. He was touched that Xander had taken such precautions to remove that advantage from their adversaries. Xander quickly overrode Angel's protest and Spike listened gleefully as his mate put the poof in his place. Xander's words to the souled one - reminding Angel that the possession of a soul did not make one a saint - were moving not by the literal content but due to his belief in what he said. Xander was prepared to defend Spike, his pack, and the minions he had assembled from the remnants of his graduating class against all threats, be they human or not. The quiet conviction and steadfast loyalty of this man constantly reaffirmed Spike's choice. Xander was the perfect mate.

Unfortunately, being perfect, Xander could read Spike like a thirty-foot billboard and almost always knew what he was up to. Before Spike could even begin a round of Sire abuse, Xander dismissed him. He told Spike to change, check on Dawn and to fetch Red. Normally Spike would have made a token protest for the sheer enjoyment of bantering with Xander, but not now, and not in front of Angel. He knew Xander was under a great deal of pressure, and wouldn't risk undermining his authority.

That didn't stop him from eavesdropping on the two of them as soon as he rounded the corner. Spike wasn't sure what he expected to hear. Intellectually he knew Xander was right, that he was a 'goof' for thinking that Angel wanted his boy. But emotionally he was sure, that if Angel ever looked - really looked, past all the preconceived images he had of Xander in his head - and saw the man he had become that he would either try to take the boy from him or destroy the boy, as his Sire had done with everything Spike had ever cared for. Spike didn't know which he was least prepared to hear; Xander ask Angel if he could depend on him to kill if asked to, or Angel admitting that he feared he would be too able to kill and not able to stop. Angelus would never have admitted either the lack of control or that he feared anything. Spike decided that maybe he had underestimated both his Sire and his mate and went to check on Dawn.

~~~~~

Spike waited for Red to laugh. The thermal suit Xander had found for him fit like body paint and looked ridiculous. He considered how his lack of body temperature made him and those around him vulnerable to the soldier boys and admitted Xander did think of everything. Willow cocked her head and said, "It doesn't really look that different - except for the hood. You wear your clothes so tight anyway - not that I look."

Spike had found her downstairs directing Xander's minions on what to pack and what to leave. She followed him upstairs and walked with him to the front room. They found Xander leaning over a table reviewing details with Cordelia. Spike was distracted from the pleasant view of Xander's ass this pose presented when the girl turned to comment on something Xander had said and her lips almost brushed the boy's ear.

Xander turned at the sound of his growl, placed one palm flat against Spike's chest and began talking to Willow.

When had it happened? What magic had this beautiful dark-eyed man used to quiet his rage, to sate his blood lust? Spike wasn't even sure that it was the chip anymore. Xander's total lack of fear, the absolute trust he gifted the vampire with was like plunging that fire into a cool, calm pool. *I like your way of moving, slip into my stillness - silence me. [1]* It was odd that this babbling boy should so bless him with silence, but that was the only word to describe the lack of rage and the fulfilled longings. Right now, he should be tearing his rival to bits. Yet, avoiding the pain of the chip wasn't what stopped him. Somehow Xander had figured out just when to accept Spike's reactions and when to protest. Xander was showing no more interest in Cordelia than in any actress on the telly. Even when curled against Spike after an exhaustive struggle for the remote, Xander sensed when it was safe to show appreciation for the female form and when to disinterestedly classify each as real, fake, or who cares?

Xander and Willow had dropped into an abbreviated conversation. Listening to them as he followed them back to the office Spike assumed he would have had to have known both of them from birth to decipher it. Their half-formed sentences were traded in rapid succession and Spike gave up attempting to translate when it started to sound as if they were discussing Willow's cat. Their words stopped and Willow looked nervous. She said she needed Tara and left.

Xander looked tired. His weary smile still warmed Spike. In spite of the pending battle, when Spike expected to be eager to get some of his own back at the Initiative, all the vampire wanted to do was lift the weight off his boy's shoulders; to take him home and shelter him from the world. *Lock the door. Come to me naked. No one's here.[2] When this is over, you and me, pet, we're going to get you some rest, if I have to sit on you to keep you down.* But Spike could think of other ways to keep his mate in bed, and to see he was too sated to leave it. Xander reached for Spike's hand and taking it, pulled him close. Warm fingers traced the neckline of the thermal suit and played along the skin over his exposed collarbone as Xander familiarized himself with Spike's new look. Spike wondered if the others realized how much strain the boy was under, how personally he took the safety of each and every one of them. Sooner or later, no matter how well prepared Xander was, he would lose another one of his 'pack', and trying to anticipate when and how that would happen was killing the boy. Spike nuzzled Xander's hair, drinking in his scent. Xander flirted with a bashful look and suggestive words when he issued Spike's orders for the upcoming battle - Spike was to follow him and no matter what stay near. Not hard orders to follow, since that was what he had intended to do anyway.

Spike's instant agreement seemed to please Xander. It occurred to him that Xander might consider him a liability, since Spike couldn't fight humans - Spike didn't want that. He didn't want the boy looking out for him when Xander needed to be looking out for himself. He wondered why he wasn't enraged that a human, even his mate, thought he was weak. It was possible that the expected rage couldn't surface though the thick, blanketing fear which struck when Spike realized that he wouldn't be able to defend Xander - this enemy was human. It was one thing to risk this himself; even chipped Spike had never backed down from the solider boys. They could dust him but he would not let them break him. But Xander was unpredictable and Spike had witnessed just what lengths the boy would go to for the people he loved and of one thing Spike was confident - Xander loved him.

"You don't have to protect me. I know they're human but...."

"I know." Xander didn't sound patronizing or even concerned, he sounded sincere and certain.

Willow and Tara slipped into the office. Willow shut the door and Tara began to set out the supplies she had carried in in a large bowl. He started to ask what was going on after Willow had asked if they were ready, but was forestalled by Xander quiet, "Do you trust me?" Did he trust him? What kind of question was that? The man had trusted Spike with his love, his life, his pride and his 'pack'. Xander had opened up his very soul to Spike - not out of naivete, not out of some deluded fantasy that Spike was human. No, this frank young man knew exactly what Spike was and what he was capable of and held no false illusions. Yet still he had given Spike the one thing that had eluded him in life and in death. Requited love. Such a simple thing; those who had it probably assumed it was quite common. After almost a hundred and fifty years of looking, Spike knew differently. But if love itself was a blessing, being loved back was walking though the gates of Heaven. Trust Xander? Spike would drink holy water for the boy.

"I trust you."

Xander placed firm hands at Spike's waist and whispered, "Close your eyes, and stand perfectly still. Don't move until I say so."

Spike felt the boy rest his forehead against his own. The witches began to chant. It was a good thing that Xander held tight. His hot hands prevented Spike from twitching his hips to the rhythm and the light feel of his head resting against the boy's stopped him from pulling away from Red's soft, tingling touch. He smelled magic, strong magic, in the air. He had meant it when he had told Xander he would follow him though the gates of Hell, but the gates of Hell were familiar to a demon. One of Red's untried spells was an entirely different matter. He longed to open his eyes and meet that warm brown gaze, but Xander had asked only two things of him - to stay still, and to shut his eyes. It was probably only a protection spell of some sort or maybe something to make it easy to find each other in the upcoming chaos. Xander had sounded serious about wanting Spike to stay near - as if that wasn't his first choice of where to be at any time. Anything the witches could do to keep Xander safe, or to keep him safe so that Xander wouldn't endanger himself by looking after him, was fine by Spike.

Spike had never stood still well, or waited, or been patient. Come to think of it neither had Xander, but the boy stood rock steady, almost holding his breath. Spike scented tension, nervousness and anticipation, but Xander had smelled that way all day. Spike tried to think of anything but staying still and Red's odd touch, which was making him nauseous. *Vampires don't get nauseous, do they?* He thought about Xander. He thought about taking Xander home and licking off the thin layer of salty sweat the day had left behind. He thought about starting at Xander's neck and working his way down across his chest, down over his abs then up along the inside of his thighs...

"Open your eyes." Xander was so close his eyes were Spike's world. Spike, not for the first time since these were his favorite eyes, watched as the muscle around the pupil expanded and contracted. He could see that the color of the iris was two entirely different shades of brown, lighter near the pupil and darker near the whites. He also saw that those eyes were slightly bloodshot both from the boy's sporadic sleeping pattern and his habit of rubbing them when stressed. When those beautiful, warm eyes looked toward Willow, Spike followed his gaze. Nestled in the witch's tiny, open palm was a small, light gray object. It took a moment before Spike realized it was the chip.

*****
Part 13:

Spike stared at that small man-made harness which had caged him for so long. He blinked, realizing he should say something, and wondered just how long he had been contemplating the chip. The witches smelled nervous, with a subtle undercurrent of fear. Willow's hand wavered slightly from holding the chip out for his examination. Without speaking, Spike slowly lifted his hand to hers and instead of taking it, closed her hand into a fist so that he was no longer mesmerized by the sight of the chip. Spike was glad that Xander still had a firm hold on his hips. *Wouldn't do your Big Bad image much good to swoon in front of the children, eh?* He leaned into Xander and nuzzled his hair, breathing in deep the scent of his lover. Since breathing was unnecessary he held that Xander-scented air in his undead lungs while he contemplated the emotions tainting his mate's musky essences. Xander was afraid, but judging by the minute changes Spike discerned in his scent, he was less worried about an unchipped Spike than he had been moments ago about the witches performing the spell. Xander's grip tightened; then the hand furthest, and most likely out of, the witches' sight moved south to cup Spike's ass while the other trailed up his torso and started carding Spike's hair.

"You okay?" His brown-eyed boy radiated concern and tenderness.

"Yes, Pet. I'm fine." Spike leaned into Xander's embrace to look into those eyes.

Xander's hand moved down to trace the angle of Spike's jaw. "The plan's the same. You stick with me. You watch both our backs. Under no circumstances do you give them the opportunity to get their hands on you. Are we clear on that?"

Spike tried to speak. The fierceness of Xander's naked concern stripped away Spike's usual bravado. Spike had yet to wrap his mind around the fact that the chip was gone. Spike had anticipated that if it was removed during Xander's lifetime he would have to convince the boy of his love all over again - prove that he wouldn't kill him and those who were his. Inconceivably, the young man who had spent the better part of his life as a defender of mankind now sounded ready to kill anyone who might harm Spike. It was too much to take in. For years Angelus had considered him expendable. He had been valued only for his ability to baby-sit Dru. Dru, sweet, mad Dru had expected him to protect her but had left Spike to pretty much take care of himself since he had been turned. Xander - human, fragile, ephemeral Xander - would move Heaven and Hell to give him the means to defend himself. Spike hoped the boy was satisfied with a nod, because that was all he was capable of at the moment.

The smile that greeted his nod was worth being caught speechless in front of the witches. Xander kissed him hard and in one of his characteristic lightning-fast mood swings said laughingly, "Places to go, people to kill. I'll meet you in the truck."

Before Spike could follow the boy's sudden exit, Willow touched his arm and said, "Spike? I...I need a minute, okay?"

Hoping to hide the fact that he was still reeling not only from the fact of his new found freedom, but from Xander's ready acceptance of his chipless state, Spike asked, "This the shovel talk?"

"No." She paused, considering what he just said and asked, "You know about that?"

"Xander told me to expect it - figured you would have got around to it weeks ago."

Spike carefully evaluated the nervous witch in front of him, who could produce sunlight with a word. One arm was behind her back, her hand tightly gripping the hand of her girlfriend. She was biting her lip and looking down at his boots. Slowly, so as not to startle either witch he lift one hand, gently placed his index finger under Willow's chin and tilted her head up until she was looking into his eyes. "Red?"

She took a deep breath and showed him what Xander called her 'resolved face'; the boy maintained that there was no arguing with the 'resolved face'. "Promise me.... you have to promise..."

Tears welled up in her eyes and Spike knew what she was going to ask - that he not kill, not feed - he had expected it. He knew that she was powerful enough to enforce that request, more powerful than any chip. The only alternative would be to kill her now, before she got her defenses up - still not a simple task with her mate's ready, wide-eyed attention on him. If he did kill her, he would lose Xander. Losing her like that would kill the boy - if it didn't, having to kill Spike would. Spike knew no mater how much it would hurt Xander, that the boy would kill him it he harmed Willow.

Tears started to slide down the witch's face that she impatiently brushed away, releasing Tara's hand as she did so. Swallowing hard and mastering her wavering voice with concern for her friend she continued, "If you leave, promise you'll tell him - don't just disappear like Anya. He'd imagine all kinds of things happening to you. So...if you're gonna just bail, and go back to Dru or ...or whatever, you tell him first."

"I would never leave him." Spike abruptly cleared his throat and looked away. He had been so startled that he had answered in his original accent, which had earned him an even wider-eyed look from Tara. "Won't leave - he's mine." He shifted to game face to try to hide his raw emotions. "'Til I'm dust no power in this world or any other'll keep me from him. We clear on that?"

Red was bad enough, but that little blonde of hers saw far too much for Spike's comfort. Willow nodded and offered him a tiny smile through tear-filled eyes and said, "Clear." She stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek, then left with her girlfriend.

Spike shifted to his human visage and looked down at his hands. They didn't look any different but now they could rend flesh, break bones, choke the breath out of his prey while it bucked and struggled. Hot rushing blood was his for the taking. He could pull any of those warm bodies out in the shop into the office and sink his fangs into the living, yielding flesh. All it would cost him was Xander.

There had always been consequences to killing and feeding. Spike had never before paid them any mind. Since Angelus had never succeeded in making Spike wary of the fact that humans could and eventually would fight back given enough proof that vampires did indeed exist, it would never be likely that fear of Angelus - the souled version - would be what stopped Spike from his indiscriminate carnage. The rage of his Sire had never swayed Spike from any course he decided to take. He knew after what Angel had done to Darla that blood ties alone would never protect him should his Sire realize the chip no longer harnessed Spike. No, even knowing the repercussions that it would cause among the humans and his Sire, the only thing that prevented Spike from bathing in the blood around him was Xander. Spike could blaze a blood-soaked path across the Hellmouth, but Xander would take the blame. Xander protected him, loved him, would die for him - but would also destroy him if Spike gave him no choice. Even knowing the act would destroy himself would not stop Xander from dusting Spike if he had to. That sweet loving man had an iron will and a warrior's heart. Spike could no more put the boy in that position than he could kill Xander himself. *Right. You do realize we're both likely to be dead by sunrise? You're wasting valuable time with the boy. Plenty of time tomorrow to figure this out - if the world don't end.*

Spike shook off his introspection, squared his shoulders and went out in search of his mate. As he wandered out into the front of the shop, a young woman consulting a palm pilot brushed past him and took over Rupert's office. Though the closed sign hung on the front door the bell above it jangled almost non-stop from the steady stream of young humans systematically evacuating the store. The prom queen stood in the center of the floor reigning over the grunt labor. Before Spike could ask where Xander was, the boy strode through the front door, haloed by the evening sun.

"Cordy, Jonothan, I want you to go with this load." He said

"Xander." Exasperated, Cordelia gestured with a sheaf of paper at the surrounding hubbub.

"I need you to control the chaos at the beta site. I'll follow with the next load." Xander took the lists from Cordelia and she left with the other boy.

Spike paid less attention to how quickly Xander's orders were followed and concentrated on the long, lean, sun-kissed man who had issued them. Xander's shaggy locks were pushed back off of his face by his sunglasses which rested on his head. He had removed the work shirt he had had on all day and was now in only the white tank he had worn under it. It emphasized his broad shoulders and strong arms. The dark jeans he wore fit well and were worn old ones that he had stashed in the back of his closet as too small before Spike had started dressing him.

As the minions scrambled to do his bidding Xander only had eyes for Spike. The boy took one slow step toward him, bringing him out of the sunlight streaming in from the shop window. He stopped to watch his lover watch him and smiled shyly. Under Spike's intense concentration Xander took another step and then another. Once in arm's reach, he tentatively reached up cup his palm against Spike's cheek.

"We'll take the next truck," the boy said. "Do you remember your orders?"

"Had the chip removed, didn't I - s'not like I got brain damaged." Spike had meant that remark to drip with his trademark sarcasm, but it came out in a husky, bedroom whisper. Which surprisingly, in the general melee of the evacuation, earned him a full-blown Xander-grin, the final step forward, and a slow, passionate kiss.

~~~~~~

They didn't take the next truck. There always seemed to be one more detail for Xander to take care of - one more person who needed to be reassured by the boy. When the young man who had helped with the dragon showed up he looked angry, but smelled scared. Spike guessed he was most likely worried about his bouncy, combustible-obsessed girlfriend's safety, since Xander had apparently given her free reign in the explosives department, against the scowling boyfriend's express orders. Spike didn't even get a chance to try out his chip-free brain before Xander had defused the situation with a look of wide-eyed innocence and a half-hearted joke. The two men put their heads together and devised a way to transport the volatile material. It made Spike wonder what the Rennie did in his spare time, besides mock jousting.

Once the redhead was firmly focused on her boyfriend, and her boyfriend's attention was monopolized by the explosives, Spike was finally able to get Xander to hop a ride on the U-haul's last trip. They had a few minutes alone in the dim back of the jostling truck, too few. Someone had cracked a glow stick, the kind humans used to mark trails when they went caving. Though it cast enough illumination for Xander to see a little detail in the dim interior its soft orange radiance highlighted the boy quite well for Spike. Xander slid down the locked door and, wedged among the food and first aid supplies, was able to lean back and seemed to be steeling himself against what might happen. There was so much Spike wanted to say to Xander - questions he needed to ask. Spike sat next to him. Reaching over, he pulled Xander's back flush with his chest and cushioned him from the jarring movement of the truck. Xander's eyes fluttered closed when Spike began to run his fingers though his hair. Judging by his even breaths Spike thought he might have fallen asleep if the truck hadn't started down the tight spiral of the parking garage's ramp.

Hearing the door unlock, Spike and Xander scrambled to stand. Light flooded the truck bed when the door opened. Looking out across the parking area Spike saw organized groups of minions stacking weapons and supplies. Runners came and when from a line of tables along the far wall, including the one he and Angel had assembled. As he and Xander stepped down to the floor, a contingent swarmed the truck and began to unload its contents. They had not walked the distance to the command tables when Spike heard the truck start again and turned to see it head for the lower level.

Humans wielding clipboards and Palm Pilots descended on Xander like a pack seeking the attention of their alpha. Xander held up one hand and instead of listening to them in turn snapped out his questions to the group.

"Are we secure?"

"Willow said it's set, she did it first thing." An overeager cheerleader type piped up.

"We have people watching our exits from six exterior vantage points." Jonothan said. "So far nothing about our base looks out of the ordinary."

"We have perimeter guards inside at all entries; they're in coveralls and posing as painters," said the sleek young man that Xander had said was a former teammate of his.

"How's our recon?"

"Screwed." Jonothan looked down at his clipboard and then offered, "This phone thing is even messing up the landlines. They work; our patrols just can't get to them 'cause everyone is using them."

Xander ran the fingers of both hands back through his hair and contemplated the garage and the people milling around it. He heaved a sigh then said, "Okay. Sunnydale is about to get hit by a fitness craze. Send the runners out in gym wear and have them lap the recon circuit and bring in verbal reports."

Jonathan peeled off from the group to implement his order.

"Infirmary?" Xander continued his shakedown of the site.

They circled the area three times. At first Spike thought Xander was indulging in some pre-battle superstition, or that the witch had him working some kind of spell. It was a kind of magic. Jittery, frightened young people saw Xander's sure and rolling gait and received his calm and optimistic smile and were transformed into quiet, determined men and women. Walking also served to dispel some of Spike's nerves - waiting had never been his strong suite.

While they walked along inspecting the preparations, Xander frequently brushed against Spike or lay a hand on his arm or shoulder, almost as if to reassure himself that Spike was still with him. Spike was with him, all right. Even under the smell of stale carbon monoxide and various leaked automotive fluids, Xander's scent teased at Spike's limited self control. Spike longed to throw the boy up against the wall and bury himself in his body. He imagined sinking his teeth into the tense corded muscle above Xander's collarbone and felt himself salivate. The drive to finally claim his mate, publicly - to mark him for all to see was beating against Spike's higher brain functions like the fluttering wings of an endless flock of birds.

After another check - in with his administrative officer, Xander took them off in search of Willow and the others. About halfway to the infirmary Spike managed to ask the question that the removal of the chip and Xander's intoxicating scent kept driving from his head. What was the plan? His boy teasingly admitted, at least to Spike, that there was no plan, other than to put themselves in front of whatever was heading their way and to hope that they were strong enough, prepared enough to meet the challenge. Claiming a quick kiss, Xander then ran ahead, perhaps to avoid the swat on his rear he so richly deserved. His dancing brown eyes sparkled with laughter as he turned back to make sure that Spike followed. Xander looked so young, so alive, Spike was riveted. He covered his distraction by leering and watching the reaction of his mate. Each deliberate step Spike took toward Xander corresponded to a subtle change - his eyes dilated, his breathing deepened, and a lovely flush spread across his face and neck. *They know not much what I am like, not what he is, my Avatar....He is the Jester and the Jest and he the Text himself applies. [1]*

Spike was careful not to touch Xander, fearing the boy's wrath if he lost control and jumped him in front of his graduating class. Instead, after closing the distance between them, he ghosted his lips across the warm flesh of Xander's face and murmured into his mate's ear, "Thought we were going to find Red."

Xander swallowed and nodded. They continued along side by side, more subdued. Spike watched Xander covertly glancing up at him from under his long lashes. He gave a self-deprecating laugh when Xander's shy smile told him he had been doing the same thing. They quickly found out that everyone was awaiting their arrival upstairs in an office normally used as the cashier's break room. The mood changed abruptly when they reached the top level of the garage. Sunlight was still spilling though the entrances, though softer and approaching nightfall. Xander clenched his jaw and, placing his body between Spike and the searing light, made sure their route was as far into the artificially lit interior as possible.

Spike wondered just who and how many of the white hats Red had shared the information about the chip. He wasn't letting Xander out of his sight, no matter what state his Sire was in. He only hoped Rupert would keep focused on the problem at hand and not divert Xander's attention from the upcoming battle. Spike tried to prepare himself for anything as he flanked his mate and they entered the office.

*****