*****
Part 8:

The call from LA came when they were all at the magic shop. It sent them into serious research mode. Spike thought about pointing out that if large green demons with moldy faces existed, he would know about it. But all his time with Dru had taught him that visions were tricky things, so he kept quiet. He wondered if the prom queen would accompany the Poof in this unasked-for visit. It might be interesting to see how Xander and his other ex reacted to each other, or at least amusing. Xander, at the moment, was idly flipping through a book written in a language which had died over a millennium before his birth. He had started to get that desperate 'there must be something I can paint, or move, or refinish' look. When their eyes met, Spike inclined his head toward the back of the store, then casually headed to the kitchen. Moments later, after he not-so-subtly asked if he could get anyone a soft drink, Xander followed. Spike tracked the boy's progress by sound. Facing the counter, Spike was aware the instant the oy entered the small kitchen and soon felt Xander's hands slide around his waist. Spike turned toward him, not even having made the pretense of heating blood - that wasn't what he was hungry for. Xander kissed him and pushed him back against the kitchen counter. The kiss heated up when their groins made contact through two layers of denim and one pair of boxers. The underwear hadn't been his fault. Although it had been amusing, both the sight of the boy in his petal pink bloomers and the 'only in Sunnydale' idea of a laundry demon. With both hands full of Xander's tight, young ass and his senses swimming in the boy's arousal, Spike was surprised along with him when Dawn popped her head around the corner.

"I thought it might be quicker if I got the drinks." She giggled at catching them unaware. "You," she continued, indicating both of them, "might want to make coffee. Willow says its going to be a long night and no one will drink mine."

Spike had released Xander immediately upon her appearance. Xander, on the other hand, had tightened his hold and had pointedly not stepped away, though he had blushed and had to try twice before he stammered out, "No problem. Think this calls for a food run?"

"Pizza?" Dawn asked, as she pulled cans of soda out of the fridge.

"Tacos?" Xander countered with an item that didn't deliver.

*If he thinks he is escaping into the sun, and leaving me here to research with the girls..* "Chinese." Spike interjected, knowing that they were in the delivery area of three Chinese restaurants.

"You don't eat, " Xander and Dawn said in unison.

Dawn laughed, "That's twice in one night Xan, you must be on everyone's wavelengths."

"I eat. Don't have to, but it's variety. Order me some sesame beef, Pet, and make sure the tossers don't put in any garlic." Spike purred in Xander's ear. He refused to be outdone by a twenty-year-old. If Xander wasn't going to let Dawn's presence make him self-conscious about their physical relationship, he would just get over his 'Victorian' inhibitions. After all, he was evil.

"Ooooh, I want dumplings." Dawn bounced, cocked her head and asked, "Do you want me to get everyone else's order?"

"Sure, I'll call it in." Xander grinned indulgently. Dawn darted back to the others, on a mission.

"Sesame beef?" The boy's grin became slightly evil as he bumped his forehead lightly against Spike's. "You're gonna dip that in blood, aren't you?" *Well, of course. I'm evil. Not like I need to eat, it's mostly for entertainment purposes.* Instead of answering, Spike decided to take advantage of Dawn's absence and began to nibble on Xander's bottom lip.

~~~~

Angel and his minions arrived in a little over two hours. The Poof was as large as ever and twice as gelled. Spike thought it was a good thing that the nancy boy didn't have a reflection anymore, otherwise they would never get him out from in front of a mirror. He entered the shop flanked by his minions, with a dark coat billowing around him. *It's ninety-five fucking degrees with the humidity so thick you can slice it and spread it and he thinks that what? Makes him look human? Blends in? Asshole.* Xander was halfway through greeting his ex when his scent plummeted into a panic, and his heart rate raced. Spike almost let out a growl at the girl, before he realize that the only thing wrong was that Xander's babble had backed him into a social faux pas. Angel hadn't missed Xander's reaction, by the way his nostrils flared. Spike was not at all comfortable with the way the Poof was eyeing what was his. He wondered if soul-boy was having a similar fight or flight moment or if the reason Angel was sizing him up was purely based on past experience. Their minions socialized and seemed unaware that the predators in the room had yet to decide if they were going to kill each other, let alone if they could work together.

The Watchers went off to the office and the witches, after asking a few polite questions, went off to the storage room. Xander gave both Angel and Spike an appraising look and seemed to leave Dawn to baby-sit, before leading the remaining minions on a tour of the facilities. Since they had been tied up with a case, none of the LA crew had returned for the service. Spike knew that Angel had been a frequent visitor at Buffy's grave, since little happened in Sunnydale at night of which he was not aware. But this was the first time either group had met face to face since they had lost the Slayer. Angel awkwardly approached Dawn, and offered condolences over both the lose of Buffy and Joyce. As he loomed over her with his hands shoved in the pockets] of the needless trench coat he made what Spike found to be an uncomfortable picture. Souled or not Spike knew just how dangerous what was standing over his Nibblet was. He felt himself morph to gameface and tightened his grip on the metal banister of the staircase to prevent him from launching himself at the wanker. When the growl escaped him Dawn ignored it, being quite used to how overprotective he could be, but Angel seemed to think he was out of line. *Again? What a surprise.*

"Problem, Spike?" Angel now regarded him, but hadn't retreated from his spot next to the girl.

In retrospect, Spike might concede that the Poof couldn't help looking like Angelus, and that the smirk he normally wore whenever addressing Spike was reflexive, but then Spike growled, "Back off you tosser, you're practically on top of her!" Which turned out to be the most congenial of the exchanges which rapidly increased in volume and degenerated in vocabulary. Before the others could interrupt they took their disagreement outside. After killing a dumpster and taking a few chunks out of a building, Spike found himself pressed face first into the wall across from the shop's back entrance. *Now this is more like the family reunions I remember.*

"This stops now." Xander never had sounded that angry, not with him. Angel, lacking the ability to read Xander's tone, had no idea just how deep the shit was that they were in, otherwise he wouldn't have told Xander to go back inside. Spike took the brief second provided by Angel's distraction to give the Poof the opportunity to kiss the wall, but Xander's scent prevented him from taking advantage of the situation. Xander had a tight grip on a rage that Spike feared would spill out at any moment. His voice was oddly calm when he lay a hot hand on Spike's arm and asked him to go inside. Spike was so relieved that, judging by the touch, Xander wasn't angry with him that he froze. Xander added, quietly and with equal calm, "Dawn is really upset." So he did, go inside that is. One minute he had been ready to rend something he saw as a threat to his mate and his minions and the next he had had an unbelievable pang of sympathy for Angel. Xander was pissed, apparently at Angel. *Glad it's not at me.*

When he entered through the back door into the practice room, Dawn threw herself into his arms. Angel's minions stood open-mouthed as she cooed at and petted him. He was worried until he discovered that all that was the matter was she had been worried about him. *Odd that.* He knew he hadn't been in any danger. His unlife was more in jeopardy from one of Willow's experimental spells than from anything Angel might do to him, especially when the soul was attached. He hauled her out to the research table and pulled her into his lap and with teasing words set about quieting her fears. When Xander and Angel didn't immediately follow them, he began to worry about just what was going on out in the alley. It was strange to see Xander angry. Spike wasn't sure, as he quickly reviewed his memories of the boy, if he could recall ever seeing that white-hot rage even before they were lovers. Spike had spent quite a bit of time purposely irritating the boy and even after the whole betrayal with Adam, Xander had never sounded more than annoyed or exasperated. Anger, real anger, just didn't seem to be in tune with his sunny disposition. At times Spike had scented unbelievable grief, deep fear, and a wealth of happy loving emotions, but the scent his lover had emitted in the ally was new. It seemed only the magnificent poof was capable of inspiring such intensity of feeling in his Xander. While he stroked Dawn's hair, Spike watched for the two of them. Angel came in from the back room only a moment after Xander. Spike wondered if he was jealous of the past that Xander shared with his Sire. Granted, it had all been bad, but it was time Angel had with Xander the he would never be able to erase. He was less than pleased by the way Angel was watching his Xander; he was paying far too much attention to him for Spike's comfort. Hate and love were often the flip sides of the same coin. Intense love could often turn to equally intense hate. Spike had seen quite a bit of that - it was one of Angelus' favorite games. *So what does this tosser think he knows, hum? He can't have my boy. He tries any of his tricks, he's dust.*

Dawn seemed to notice Spike watching Angel and Angel watching Xander, and she shivered in her spot on his lap. After a moment she whispered to him, "You know the sooner we slay, the sooner they leave." Spike nodded, but kept a wary eye on Angel and his minions.

~~~

Spike was relieved when Xander stepped down from his battle of wills with Rupert and took Dawn out of potential danger. When they had decided to give Red's plan for gathering more information a go he had a flashback on just how successful her 'will be done' spell had been. Not that ending up with a lapful of amorous Slayer was such a bad memory - no matter how many times Xander teased him about the 'Wind Beneath My Wings' incident - but all his instincts said to keep Dawn far away from any untried spells. The first part of the evening wasn't too exciting. It involved Rupert producing a detailed map of Sunnydale and the surrounding area. Tara spread it on the research table, chanting over the fist-sized crystals that she used to ring its edges. Willow's voice was a soft descant to Tara's chant, and she dowsed with a sky-blue piece of agate hung on a silver chain. Once both witches were in agreement that the spot to perform their as yet untested spell was Lainer's bluff, they packed up the huge scrying bowl and various magic ingredients, along with the book in which Willow had discovered the spell. Angel and his minions piled into his car while Spike and the witches rode in Giles' convertible.

Once at the bluff they parked the cars and headed up to the moonlit cliff. While the witches walked the area to chose the best spot to attempt the summoning, Wesley and Giles compiled a list of questions. If it worked, the trick would not be getting information, but getting the right information. Willow had proposed summoning air elementals called sprites. Any elemental was dangerous. The fact that this particular elemental was a well-known gossip and privy to all sorts of useless and useful information did not mean they were incapable of doing harm. Spike had crossed paths with any number of supernatural creatures over the course of his unlife; that was what accounted for his impressive knowledge of languages and cultural nuances. He had never come across sprites, though. It might have something to do with them not liking vampires. *Now, should I mention that to the Poof? No.* It wasn't just the usual bad karma associated with vampires and their blood lust; apparently the little critters took the whole not breathing thing as an insult.

The witches picked a flat open space about thirty feet from the lone gnarled tree that fought for purchase on the windswept bluff. They filled the bowl with bottled water and the girls took turns adding the ingredients. Spike cautiously stepped back to keep his minions in view and lit a cigarette, sucking in deep and exhaling a cloud of smoke. Slowly, their soft feminine voices were joined by first one and then many whispers and giggles. The voices were of indeterminate gender and had no fixed direction from which they originated. Small, glowing blue lights emerged from the moonlight and swirled around the witches and then spread out to dip and bob around the rest of the group. The ones who swooped near Angel darkened and their giggles became scolding chatters. Spike exhaled a billowing cloud of smoke as the critters approached him and those sprites wheeled away to join in chastising Angel. The sprites hovering near Cordelia brightened and made a trilling sound. The noise seemed to summon the others and soon the whole glittering cloud was swarming around the seer. Since the leggy brunette had their attention, Giles handed the girl the list of questions he and Wesley had compiled. The questions were specific and the whole mass of tiny elementals answered yes or no in unison. Things were going swimmingly until, in exasperation Cordelia asked a question not on the list. The sprites formed a whirlwind of light and sound. They took off in a million different directions and returned at random each trying to convey a separate message. As the sprites all homed in on the girl she crouched down and covered her head, squealing in frustration at her inability to understand them. Angel came to her rescue, lifting her up into his arms. This, while not acting as sprite repellent, did slow their swooping and lower the excited volume of their chatter.

"Spike, this isn't going as I planned." Willow tugged on his arm and pulled him back away from the swirling mob. Tara looked frightened and stood near Giles and Wesley.

"Does it ever?" Spike snorted and was instantly contrite when he saw tears form and her lip quiver. He pulled the little witch under his arm and added, "It's not going that badly. You got some of your questions answered."

"But they told us about that thing, the one that would help stop the Hellmouth from opening or could be what is going to be used to open it. That doesn't do any good if we don't know which it is or what it is or where it's at." While she babbled, Tara carefully skirted the storm of sprites that surrounded Angel and Cordelia. They had now been joined by Gunn, as he shielded Cordelia's other side from her chattering friends.

Tara took Willow's hand and said, "This isn't getting us anywhere. Do you understand what they're saying?" She directed the question to Spike and looked at him with hopeful eyes.

"You understand what they're saying, we all do." Spike sighed needlessly. "Trouble is, you can't get just one of them to talk. This sounds like a New York metro terminal during rush hour."

"If we could have only got one more question asked. If we knew the location of this ..thing, maybe we could find out the rest in research." Willow said, still looking about to cry. The fact the she hadn't shaken off his arm clued Spike in more than the way she tightly clutched at Tara's hand.

"Well, the conversation is over, but we can still see them. Go on, Red, ask them to show you where this thing is." Spike gently propelled the witches toward the cloud of sprites. Oddly enough, it worked. Not the first time, when Willow asked, but once Cordelia caught on and voiced the question, the creatures responded. As before, they began to leave and return but this time it was not at random. The mass of sprites swooped first in one direction then the other. They swirled back and forth until even Spike was regretting the recent solid food he had consumed. When Cordelia took a tentative step in the direction which they were undulating in, they broke into ecstatic chitters and swirled faster. The sprites led them to the single tree and after pulsing up and down above the ground and showing signs of their returning frustration, Gunn suggested that they dig. Not having come equipped for this contingency, it was up to the vampires to move the soil by hand. As they peeled back the covering sod the sprites burst in to a glittering display of light and sound. Gunn had interpreted the movement correctly. Once the object - a grapefruit sized sphere of indeterminate origins - was revealed, a sigh passed through both the sprites and the living members of the supplicants.

Giles recommend not asking any more questions, as, if they did not luck into a solution a second time, they may not have to worry about the Hellmouth, having been destroyed by angry elemental. Tara emptied the bowl of water and herbs into the hole and Spike helped her refill the hole with dirt. The spell had been hacked together by Willow from three others and the herbs assembled on short notice when they stopped at a supermarket on the way to the bluff. From the offerings she had picked up there, Willow now scattered rice, pistachios and endive over where the hole had been and Tara gave Cordy a bag of brightly colored feathers to give to her new friends when she said thank you. They headed back to the store and the Watchers immediately set about trying to find out what the sphere was and what it did. Willow answered the store's phone, which had been ringing when they entered. Spike heard her reassuring Dawn that no, there had not been a disaster; yes, they had got some information; yes, they were all fine; and no, Angel and Spike had not dusted each other. Spike waited only to hear that the girl was safely ensconced at a neighbor's, with whom she was spending the night, and that Xander had opted to fill the time with one of his ongoing projects at the Summers' house.

He immediately set out, leaving by the back door. He wanted to fill Xander in, letting him know that the dangerous part of the evening was probably over and that he could come join the others since Dawn was safe. It had never taken him long to travel from the shop to the Summers' house. When he traveled alone, unlike when he had Dawn with him, he could make the trip in a matter of minutes. It was quicker on foot, owing to the fact that he rarely used the streets. Like when he hunted, Spike's route gave little thought to the established boundaries of personal property and often took him across roofs, through trees, sewers and back yards. Spike strolled into the back yard of the Summer's house, noting the light spilling from the kitchen windows. He had lost count of the number of nights he had stopped by that back door and Joyce home alone, with the girls out living lives of their own, had invited him in for a mug of hot chocolate. In the process of sharing her day with him she often asked the questions it had never occurred to the children to ask. Not just how he was doing physically but if he still had heard from any friends he had when he and Dru were together and whether he was 'socializing', as she had so discreetly put it. He knew she read a lot of her own relationship with her ex into him and Dru, but he never tried to set her straight. He wasn't sure he could have made her understand how he was less lonely after they had split. He didn't have the words to show what it had been like when they had been together, how he had spent all his time trying to connect with someone who so seldom seemed aware that he was any more than a large male version of Miss Edith. No, he definitely was not ready to visit Joyce's kitchen.

He circled around to the front of the house. The front porch light shown, just like it always had when Joyce was waiting for Buffy to come home from patrol. His boy had done some work on the front walk though and the crooked flagstone had been relayed and was level with the rest. Xander stopped by the house a couple times a week, usually sometime after work but before they either patrolled or went home for the evening. Never less than an hour but never more than three. His visits were supposed to be getting the house ready to sell. Spike suspected he was delaying but didn't mention it the way Willow did. He figured Xander had his own happy memories of this house, which he was just as reluctant to part with. The front door held its own significance to Spike and he paused before it. He remembered that night, standing there in the doorway, content to wait outside just relieved that Buffy trusted him enough to let him accompany her that far. He had seen her start up the stairs and then turn to him. How often had he played those few earth shattering words "you can come in Spike."? What had she been thinking? He longed to ask her and wished there had been time that night. Did she think it didn't matter because the world would end? Had she realized his sincerity? Had she thought about it at all? It was entirely possible that the single most important event in his life, until that moment, had meant nothing at all to her. He shook off that line of thinking, wondering how long he had stood wool gathering on the porch. Steeling himself, he opened the front door and stepped resolutely across the threshold.

*****
Part 9:

Spike entered the quiet house for the first time since Buffy had invited him in the night she had died. He heard Xander's breathing and smelled his lover's grief and sorrow, thick in the air. There were no noticeable changes to the entry hall, despite the boy's frequent trips. Spike had avoided coming here, not wanting Xander or Dawn to see him break down. He flashed on when Buffy had introduced him to Joyce that first time on the front step. Joyce hadn't remembered braining him on parent/teacher night. Ever the gracious hostess, Joyce had tried to make awkward small talk while assimilating the news of Buffy's destiny. How many secrets had Joyce let slip during their kitchen klatches? Stories about Buffy and Dawn as girls and about later on as they got older, when they would wait for a promised phone call from their father, which never came. *What kind of man could have just written the three of them out of his life?* A single step forward brought Xander into sight. Through the archway that separated the foyer from the living room he watched a moment as the boy contemplated a small framed photograph. He wondered what memories were visiting his pet and hoped they were happy ones. He owed so much to this fragile mortal. Daily Spike marveled at how much he had as a result of Xander's love, and shuddered at the thought of how much he now could lose. *Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend Before we too into Dust descend; Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie; Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and sans End![1]*

Xander reverently placed the photo back onto the end table and turned toward Spike, his brow still furrowed. Spike was at a loss when dealing with Xander's pain or sorrow. It made him want to rend the cause limb from limb. Before he could growl in frustration, Spike was mesmerized by the soft smile that the sight of him brought to Xander's face. More and more he noticed that his mere presence seemed to at once calm and excite the boy. Just being with him seemed to make Xander more confident and happier. It was a new experience for Spike. The boy didn't seem to care if they argued or fucked - well, he seemed to enjoy fucking more - but somehow was content either way. This was so new, so refreshing, and a bit unnerving to have someone so in tune with his emotions. Humans as mates were rare among vampires, but not unheard of.

Spike wished he were better informed. He knew that the life expectancy among them was short, but that was due to the lifestyle. They had to contend with the master's rivals and any jealous childer he may have. He had heard rumors they could bond much like a mated pair of vampires. The one time he and Angelus had talked of the subject had been when the older vampire had been referring to a pair in legend. Angelus had told of a vampire known only as Cain who had had a human mate called Lilith. Angelus had speculated that they had chosen those names to make themselves seem older than they were. Yet according to Darla, when the two had ruled none could remember either who Cain's Master had been nor a time when he and Lilith had not been together. Though they had allegedly been brought down at the turn of the last millenium, for several hundred years they had held a vast hunting ground, covering much of Eastern Europe. At the time, what had intrigued Spike had been the hints that this Cain was somehow stronger and had developed a resilience to holy objects from the pairing. Angelus had been set on warning him of the dangers, much like he tried to make a boogieman out of the Slayer. Spike, true to form, had found the idea of flaunting tradition fascinating and had asked why all vampires didn't take humans as pets, if there was something they were good for besides food. All Angelus had told him was that the vampire would have no control of that human and would be at their mercy, that it was far too dangerous to treat lightly, and that the risks far outweighed any supposed advantages. What now caught his interest about that story was the reference to them being together for centuries. He wouldn't mind that, having a few centuries with his Xander.

They had become so close, so quickly. Spike often wondered if there was something supernatural about Xander's ability to sense his moods or if it were just the boy's perceptive nature. Xander was so open, so readable, Spike wondered if he would know if he had some sort of connection to the boy, more than the obvious. Spike knew Xander loved him. From observing the attention and tenderness that the boy bestowed upon the members of his 'pack', Spike also knew exactly what that love meant. Even after their conversation in the shower, what Spike did not know was if Xander understood what he meant by 'claiming' him. Spike was sure what he wanted but wasn't sure what the results would be. Darla had hinted at secret rituals, mostly in her intention to take Angelus as a mate before he got souled up. Spike couldn't be sure she wasn't making it up - the cow would have used anything to keep her childe wrapped, including blatant lies. Dru, dear useless Dru, hadn't even been able to keep the Sire/Child relationship straight. Hence Spike had the unique curse of two Sires; his dark princess who had turned him, and the bleeding Irish bastard who had beaten what little sense he had into him.

Xander's soft smile transformed. With every thought written plainly on his face, he looked adorably confused. The boy knew Spike had not been to the house since Buffy had died and was clearly trying to figure who had invited Spike in. That look was replaced to the one Xander called 'the wiggins' when Spike told him that Buffy had issued the invite.

"Not now, you moron." *Why do I do that? He underrates himself as it is, I'm just confirming that belief.* Spike lost track of the conversation as Xander's eyes sparkled with mischief and he teasingly pulled Spike into his arms. They maneuvered their way to the couch and Spike pinned his naughty pet against it, wondering how long he could keep him distracted and if there were time for a quick shag before they headed back to the shop. He held Xander's squirming body under him, tormenting him and reveling in the boy's frustration.

When Xander breathed in that lust-filled whisper, "punish me," Spike nearly lost control. *Bloody thrice dammed chip!* This wasn't the first time he had had to modify their games to prevent a blast of pain. He could almost feel his teeth sink into his lover's corded muscles. Then Xander stopped his pleasant struggles and whispered someone else's name. Spike shifted to game face and was growling out a threat before he turned to face his stunned Sire. He couldn't think straight and was hardly aware that Xander has renewed his quest for freedom. Xander's movements now had less effort directed at arousing Spike and more on freeing his hands. If he could have formed words he would have screamed at the rival but was currently expending all his energy at preventing two all-too-likely things. First, he didn't want to launch himself at Angel; part of him realized that having knock-down-drag-out fight here was not acceptable. Second, and more important, he felt he was dangerously close to hurting Xander physically.

The same inner sanity which was telling him Angel was not going to try to take Xander here, now, in front of him, also reasoned that Xander had only spoken Angel's name because he was startled to see him here, not because he welcomed the older vampire's attention. But the fact that the two were now speaking, never mind that Spike was too far out of control to follow the conversation, was driving him further into madness.

Rather than risk hurting him, Spike released one of Xander's hands but did not take his attention from their stunned audience. Instead of pulling away, Xander reached up and with gentle strokes soothed away his blood rage. Spike noticed that Xander did not smell at all of fear and seemed to take his reaction to Angel's presence in stride. Aware that Xander's soft shh-ing noises and caresses to his face were asking for some sort of acknowledgment, Spike still kept his attention riveted to his rival. From the look of shock on Angel's face if he had not realized Xander was Spike's before, he knew it now. Though Xander's actions had removed himself from danger, at least from Spike, the situation was still volatile. It was all Spike could do not to demand satisfaction due to Angel speaking to his mate without permission. It was Willow who unknowingly saved them all.

Red entered, followed by Tara, and peeked around Angel's bulk to say, "Xander? There you are." Angel remained frozen in place at the entrance to the living room, but the witches slipped easily past him. The girls crossed to the couch. It was more what they didn't do than what they did which showed such easy acceptance of Spike's place by Xander side and among their group. The young women dropped into a relaxed sprawl right beside Xander and his lap full of snarling vampire. Tara watched fondly as Willow babbled and Xander attempted to look like he knew what she was talking about. As the blinding rage faded Spike was shaken by how close he had brought them to true disaster. Angel cautiously took a seat far from Xander, being the only one in the room beside Spike to know what had nearly happened. If possible the prancing nancy boy looked even more bewildered.

Now Xander's scent was nervous. *William the Bloody in obsessive, possessive rage doesn't phase him, but Red catching him unaware of the results of her summoning sends him into a panic? Someday I'm gonna have a loooong talk with that boy. Ack, I have got to stop watching 'Nick at Nite', whoever heard of a vampire quoting 'The Beverly Hillbillys'* Xander obviously didn't want the witches to know he had been too horny to ask what happened at the bluff. *Rich! I can have some fun with this.*

"Yes, Pet, tell Red what you think about the Thing." He purred in his most seductive voice, knowing that it wouldn't take much to rev up Xander's engine once they had started foreplay.

The boy verbally dismissed him, while physically sending out 'I want sex' signals. Being a vampire, Spike chose to respond to the physical ones with a leering purr. Red was smart enough to catch on and her little blond blushed and shared a shy smile with Spike. The magnificent poof hadn't taken his eyes off Xander since interrupting impending sex, but Spike was pleased to note that Xander seemed unaware. The boy vastly underestimated his own physical appeal. Dru was a perfect example of how Angelus' taste ran. Most people who saw Darla assumed he liked them small and blond, but they forgot that Darla chose him and he chose Dru. Tall, dark-haired, large brown eyes; it was all too similar. Spike wasn't blind. He would see these two were chaperoned until the bastard was dust or out of town for good.

~~~~~~~

Back at the shop the LA crew was going through the books with Rupert. Angel had reopened the mansion, so at least Spike didn't have to worry about Xander volunteering their couch to one of them. He didn't like that idea at all, especially with the Princess eyeing his Xander like he was the one that got away. He had caught that hyphenated ex-Watcher taking in an eyeful of Xander's ass when the boy had fetched some volumes from a lower shelf. Spike was silently cursing whatever madness had possessed him to talk the boy out of his old baggy, loud clothes and start dressing Xander with more emphasis his long muscular beauty. Angel's new boy, the one who had only met Xander that day, was currently sidling up to him with some flimsy excuse about getting his pet to point out the tunnel accesses on the town map.

It was Giles who noticed that Spike was emitting a low growl and after briefly surveying the room said, "Er.Perhaps. Have you had.? Spike, go get something to eat."

Xander followed him back to the kitchen and sat on the counter sipping a soft drink while Spike's blood heated. "Tired, pet?" The brown eyes did look a little red and the lids a bit heavy.

"I'm just glad tomorrow's Friday. What are the chances we'll get the weekend alone together?" Xander rolled his eyes toward the front and reached for Spike with a long leg. Spike let himself be hooked by Xander's foot to be drawn in and encircled by his legs.

After a kiss that tasted of ginger and sugar he said, "The rogue demon hunter was checking out your ass." He hadn't intended to say that. He lied as readily as breathing, well, like he had breathed when he had been alive. But when he was this close to his boy, tasting him, touching him, he spit out every thought.

"You're such a goof." Even Xander's laugh sounded tired, but he leaned forward and kissed Spike before adding. "But in a good way." He nipped Spike's bottom lip and they both forgot about the blood, and the guests, and tomorrow for a moment. When Spike finally let Xander breath the boy asked, "So, you're doing the book thing? When do you think you'll be home?"

Then the nancified sire was back, looming in the door, ogling his boy. Spike grabbed his mate off the counter and his meal from the microwave and relinquished the galley. When Angel stopped him from leaving by grabbing his arm, Spike came close to replaying the scene from earlier. This time the tosser's attention was on the food and not on Xander so Spike could be almost civil. Xander ignored Angel. If he could just keep the boy away from the Prom Queen, the night might remain bloodless. Angel paid too much attention for Spike's comfort when Xander mentioned home and gave Spike a look that said 'we'll talk'. *Something else to look forward to.*

Once the boy had left, Spike found it easier to concentrate. The Watchers assigned research based on the Prom Queen's vision of large green demons with moldy faces and any type of sphere. Spike noticed Giles watching Angel and Angel's minions warily eyeing him. He suppressed the urge to see how high they would all jump if he growled because it would delay his getting home to his boy. They had been wading through demon lore for a few hours when he noticed the poof not-so-subtly trying to get his attention. Spike pointedly ignored him and pretended to be absorbed by a compilation of the Watcher's prophecies.

Finally Giles cleared his throat and said, "Spike, I believe Angel would like a word with you. You may use my office. But I want it understood, I will not tolerate violence directed toward the furniture or each other."

Angel looked contrite. Spike smirked and led the way into the back. Spike sat behind the desk in Rupert's chair and propped his Docs on the corner of the desk. "What's up, Ducks? Don't tell me you still got your panties in a twist over me taking over the Slayer's minions."

"I don't know what game you're playing." Angel started, but was cut off by Spike's snort of derision.

"That song again? Didn't we dance this dance, earlier in the alley?"

"As I recall, you didn't answer." Angel looked ready to launch into a tirade.

"As I recall, I had you face-first into a wall when my pet saved your ass." Spike leveled a hard glare and stood up in a smooth, lightning-quick move.

"What the hell are you thinking? Xander Harris? You're playing with fire, Wil. Even I can see that this has gone father than you realize." Maybe it was that by now Angelus would have been bouncing his head off the floor, or maybe it was just calling him Wil. Whatever it was, it saved the furniture.

"You're talking out of your ass you great tosser. You have no idea." Spike shouted.

"Do you?" He interrupted in a calm, reasoning voice, which might have been why Spike listened. "Do you have any idea what you're doing? And if you don't, whose going to pay the price? Xander? Wil, you can't take him for a consort. You will make him a target for every purist out there. I lost a good friend recently to the Scourge; if they got their hands on the human consort of a Master vampire..."

"Fuck the Scourge!" Spike growled out, seeing red at the implied threat to Xander. "They think we're mixed as it is, with the human host for our demon. Cor, Angelus! We were the Scourge - 'The Scourge of Europe', and not one of those nancified purists has our body count. When did you become such a big girl? I know they attached a soul, but did they replace your knackers with it?" Spike was nose to nose, with the taller vampire, in full game face, snarling out all his frustration at his sire and the world.

"Damn it, boy!" Angel morphed and matched Spike's baleful, yellow-eyed glare. "You never think! It's not you or me at risk here. You're not only placing Xander in danger, but everyone he holds dear. You think every demon from a fledgling on up won't want to score a hit on the human consort of 'the Slayer of Slayers'?"

"No one hurts what's mine!" Spike grabbed the lapels of the ridiculous overcoat and pulled him forward.

"You can't even protect him from another human.." Angel gripped his hands and attempted to pry them off.

"Leave the fucking chip out of this! The boy isn't some delicate flower. He's survived longer on the Hellmouth than you did."

"So help me Spike, I will not let." A hard shake cut him off and Spike growled his words.

"You won't let? Who the bloody hell do you think you are? You're an outsider here. These humans are mine!"

After a tentative knock on the door, Giles and Wesley, obviously having heard the exchange, came in. Giles removed his glasses and met neither vampire's startled eyes. "You..er..you both have been rather vocal. Rather than perpetuate the illusion of your privacy, I thought it best to confess. I have more than a passing interest in this subject." He glanced at Wesley; there was some sort of wordless exchange before he continued. "Spike, I assure you nothing we say will go any further, but I must admit Angel's accusations have..I would like some reassurance regarding Angel's accusations." He held up a hand, forestalling Spike's immediate protest. "I know you would never intentionally harm Xander. But the Watchers know so little about vampire lore. Almost all references are from the human point of view. The books focus on how to kill them, not their social nuances. I admit, that while your physical involvement with Xander has been painfully obvious, unbelievably you seem to have out done Anya in the indiscretion area." That comment earned Giles a triumphant smirk from Spike and blank looks from Angel and Wesley. "I hadn't realized that there could be a more paranormal connection forming."

Spike was at a loss as to what to say. Tossing off to Angel was one thing, but Giles was a different story. Yes, a bond had formed and was strengthening by the day, but Spike had no idea what it meant, or what it would become if he and the boy continued on this course.

It was Wesley who rescued Spike from blind speculation when he ventured, "Some of the histories have speculations about mated pairs. They're extremely rare, you and Drucilla being one of the most ."

"Dru and I weren't mates." Spike spoke softly and sank into the chair nearest the door. "She turned me, but we weren't mates." He stood again, wanting to pace but the small office lacked the space so he leaned on the edge of the desk.

"Spike, you were together for over a hundred years." Giles voice held the incredulity of someone for whom that was more than a lifetime.

"She needed me. I took care of her. That's why I was made." Spike studied his hands and wished that they were not having this conversation with an audience, but then again, without the audience they both might have continued to avoid this topic.

"You were lost.distraught when you two parted." Giles said gently, as if reluctant to remind Spike of that pain, and sat next to Spike on the edge of the desk.

"You were pretty out of it when you got sacked from the Watchers," Spike said pointedly. "I was made and trained for one thing and that was gone. Just took me a little longer to find my feet."

"And Xander?" Giles asked firmly. Spike had to admire the man. Like Xander, Giles always kept his priorities straight. It was the fact that Giles had repeatedly and would continue to put Xander's safety ahead of his own which caused Spike to reluctantly admit that this man, unlike anyone else in the room, had the right to ask these questions.

"He's mine. I'd claim him proper if not for this bloody chip." Spike answered with conviction.

"What does that mean? What.what would that do to him?" Giles asked. Angel and his Watcher were watching like this was some tennis match. After Giles asked the last question, Wesley leaned forward from where he leaned against the door. Spike shot a suspicious look at Angel. He would never be able to bluff his way through an answer with the prancing poof ready to jump in and call him on anything he made up.

"Don't know." He settled for honesty. "Reason you Watchers don't have much information on this is that it just doesn't happen that often. Our kind rarely take mates, especially among our own, because we rarely love. To love you have to share part of yourself. We're demons." He nodded to indicate Angel as well as him. "No matter how much soul-boy would like to deny it, without the demon he would be just a decaying corpse. Demons are by nature selfish. Why do you think we create so many minions, and so few childer?" Spike watched Giles carefully. He had seen the wheels turning behind Angel's pet Watcher's eyes, but didn't care what conclusions that poofed-up hyphenated nancy-boy drew from his little revelation. His souled Sire could pound salt, and the minion too. It was Rupert who mattered. He was whom Xander would turn to with any doubts. His acceptance of what was growing between Spike and his mate would smooth over the eventual dangers.

"Have you spoken with Xander about this?" Giles' voice was calm but his gaze was penetrating. He could have been inquiring about a library book if not for Ripper lurking there in his eyes.

"He knows as much as I know." Spike dropped all pretenses, including his guttersnipe accent. This man loved his mate like a son and had earned Spike's respect in ways that Angelus never had. "He knows what I want and he hasn't chucked me out yet." Spike finish without his upper class accent, when he realized that there might be someone left in the room who didn't know it was a complete sham. The last thing he needed was Angel's boy asking for stories of his early years to update the Watchers' records with his fledgling foibles. Giles' quiet contemplation instilled a fear in Spike that all of Angel's ranting had failed to do. Angel ranted quite frequently. Giles had been known to face the apocalypse with an 'oh, dear'. It would have made for a study in opposites if not for the fact his future could be decided by what this quiet man decided here and now. The silence was eerie as not one of the remaining three wanted to disturb Giles rumination and they all sat or leaned awaiting his conclusion.

The time gave Spike a chance to turn over Angel's pessimistic view, where legions would come out of the woodwork hunting his Xander for sport and status. It wasn't as if Xander didn't draw enough unasked-for attention as it was. At that thought, Spike scowled at Angel's minion, remembering the heated look he had turned on his mate when Xander's back was turned. Wesley, showing a level of self preservation he certainly didn't learn from Angel, pulled back as far from Spike as the tiny room permitted. Angel stepped between Spike and his minion, and Spike could hear his teeth grinding as he exerted himself not to shift into game face. *Oh, ho! How much energy he spends trying to pass for human. What does he tell them? That he keeps the demon that animates his corpse locked up or on a leash? Bloody hell, he has some nerve saying I'm endangering Xander. Xander has known from day one what I am and what I am capable of. It's his choice to let me into his life, and it's a far more informed choice than Angel's minions get to make if he's still deluding even himself that by having a soul he has some how gotten rid of his demon.*

Spike finally couldn't take the silence any longer. He spoke to Giles, quite conscious that Angel and his minion were considering his every word. "Xander loves me." It was the first time he had said those words to anyone but himself, and then they had been tinged with awe as he talked to his non-existent reflection. "You know that means he would be in danger, even without all the fucking demon shit. You know what he's like when he loves someone - he'd take on the devil himself to protect them." Giles nodded and a sad, rueful smile crossed his face. "He'll never be alone." Spike was aware that he had slipped back into what Xander called his bedroom accent but no longer cared. "Anything that goes after him will have to go through me."

Angel said he wanted to talk to Xander, to make sure the boy knew just what he was getting into. Before Spike could loudly tell him that would never happen Giles suggested, with implied concern for Angel's safety, that he not try to do that alone. Spike was grateful. If he had suggested it Angel would have put it down to his possessiveness and would have insisted on seeing Xander alone. But coming from Giles, after a pointed reminder about the volatile history between Angel and Xander, Angel agreed to have Spike present. Relieved that this issue was now behind him, Spike slipped out of the shop when Angel was conveniently distracted and headed home.

*****