*****

"Sire Angel. I bring you news."

Angel leaned back in his leather chair to regard the intruder. He puffed on his Havana, rolling the rich tobacco around his tongue before blowing out a thick cloud of fragrant smoke. He stayed silent, watching the intruder twitch and fumble. Obviously the news was not good. Angel sighed and took in another mouthful of rich, hand rolled, Havana tobacco.

"What do you have to tell me, Lefty? Huh? What? *More* bad news? Is that what you bring me? *More* petty squabbling amongst the minions? More demands for better dental care? Because I don't *care* about that, Lefty! You know what I care about? Hum? Do you?" Angel slammed his fist down upon his massive mahogany desk when no reply came from Lefty. "I *care* about my fucking *shipment*! I want my fucking shipment! WHERE IS MY FUCKING SHIPMENT? *That's* the news I want! *That's* what I want to hear about! WHERE IS MY BLOOD?"

"Angel! Sire! It's not the fault of any one in the organization! I swear! It's this Harris Organization, Sire. They came outta no fucking where, Sire! But all of a sudden-BAM! -They're fucking Everywhere! They stop the shipments! They take in the blood-whores! They're every-"

"I don't want to hear this, Lefty! I want to hear how you got my blood coming to me! I want to hear how this 'Harris Organization' is *gone*! I want to hear the details of there bloody fucking *demise*! You hearing me, Lefty? I want this problem fucking *solved*, dammit! I want it *gone*!"

"As do all of us, Sire. We're here only to serve you-"

"You're fucking *right* you're here to *serve* me, you fucking cock-sucker!" Angel stabbed his cigar towards Lefty for emphasis, sitting up in his chair. "But I gotta tell ya, Lefty, my man, I'm not feeling served. I'm not feeling like I'm getting my moneys worth outta you. In *fact*, I'm feeling kinda let down, boy. You know what happens when I'm feeling let down?" Angel sat back with a nasty smile upon his face.

Lefty mumbled something unintelligible.

"What was that, boy? Speak up! What happens when I feel let down?"

"Vampires die, Sire."

"Goddamn *right* they do!" Angel puffed on his cigar. "But perhaps I've been slack with you *servants*. Angel sneered the word. "Perhaps I've left room for doubt. That would have been remiss of me, eh, Lefty?"

"Never, Sire! You would never be remiss."

Angel chuckled. "Normally, no, I wouldn't be. But here it is Friday night, and no blood. And no ." Angel shook is head. "What has become of me, that such a thing could happen?" Angel picked up an ornate wooden letter opener and began to clean his nails. He looked up at Lefty and smiled. "Lefty?"

"Sire?"

"Come're."

"Sire?" Lefty shifted his weight from foot to foot, hesitating. "Sire, I have a lead on this group! I swear! They're some kinda religious fanatics, Sire! Lookin' to rid the world of evil and witches and vampires an-"

"Lefty!" Angel, barked, cutting him off. "Come *here*." Angel turned his chair to the side and indicated the area in front of him with the letter opener. "*Now*."

Lefty lowered his head and walked towards his Sire.

"There's a good boy. Kneel."

"Sire, I-"

"KNEEL!"

Lefty dropped to his knees in front of Angel.

Angel grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his head up to look into the doomed vampire's moist eyes. "I like you, Lefty. You were one of my favorites. But you let me down. You know I hate that." Angel smiled. "But because I like you, you don't get the rooms."

"Thank you, Sire." Lefty whimpered. "I thank you for that conciderat-"

Angel jammed the ornate wooden dagger into the whimpering vampire's chest. Lefty burst into a shower of dust. Angel turned his chair back towards his desk and hit the intercom button. "Marge?" He yelled.

"Sire?"

"Get the vacuum in here and get me my third! And tell him he's now my second!"

"Yes, Sire. Anything else?"

"Yes! Get me Spike!"

"He's not in, Sire. He's not been in for several nights."

"Well hunt his skinny-ass down! I want him *here*! Yesterday, Marge!"

"Yes, Sire. I'll have some of the boys bring him in."

Angel took another puff and blew the smoke out so that it moved stray bits of Lefty off his desk and on to the floor. He hit the intercom button again. "Hurry up with that vacuum!" He flicked the thick ash from his cigar so it fell upon what was left of Lefty.

"I gotta hire more Kamore demons. Those fuckers just vanish when you kill 'em!" Angel picked up the phone and punched in a number.

"Kate?"

"I told you not to call me here!" Came the hissed reply.

"Yeah, well, you also told me that if I paid you enough I wouldn't have a lot of problems! Well, guess what, bitch? I'm having fucking PROBLEMS! Who the hell or *what* the hell is the Harris Organization?"

"Um-"

"'Um', my ass, copbitch." Angel kept his voice low and sweet, as if speaking to a lover. "You'd better come up with some information I find useful, or I'm going to have some of my boy's pay you a little visit. Have some fun with you. And while I'm sure you'd like the start up games, I'm going to make *sure* you don't like how they end. You get my meaning, copbitch?"

"Yes." Kate whispered. "We've heard about this group. Very low key demon hunters. Its members are very loyal. We have one in custody but he's not talking."

"I want him."

"I can't just give you a-"

"I. Want. Him. You hear me, Kate? I kill your friends. I kill your squad. I start killing off pretty little pig-tailed kiddies playing in the park or you bring him to me. Your choice. What will it be?"

"Look, I can't just-"

"Your friend Maria is sure a pretty girl. She works out, doesn't she? You can tell. Nice muscle tone. I like that. She'd make a good blood whore. She'd last a good long while. *Or*, you bring me the guy. What's it gonna be?"

Silence.

Angel kept his snicker silent. He was enjoying this.

"I'll bring him to you."

"Of course you will. You're a smart little sell-out-bitch, you are, Katie dear." Angel slammed the phone down and sat back in his chair, bringing his feet up to rest upon his desk.

"Fucking Harris Organization. Let's just see how long you last against me and *mine*."

***********************************************************

"Godless demons! What evil abomination will they perpetrate next?" Alexander Harris, Sr. boomed as he read the report. "This is outrageous!" He shook the sheaf of papers in his hand before slamming them down upon his massive desk. "The money these fiends are bringing in! I want it! Christ-all-mighty, this blood for money racket is a freakin' cash cow! And as long as the evil ones aren't feeding on the righteous, well, then-fine!" Harris reached into the ornate humidor on his desk and selected a fat cigar.

"So we shouldn't dump the blood, Sir?"

"Dump it?" Harris looked up while lighting his stogie. "Did you say *dump*?" He blew a thick cloud of cheap cigar smoke towards his assistant. "Are you a fool? This blood we have is *money*. Money we can use to help the poor! Help the needy! We can help the lost find their way to God! To glory!" The senior Harris narrowed his beady eyes and glared at his assistant. "What we need is a snitch."

"Sir?"

"A *snitch* from that heathen, Angel's camp! Someone to let us know who buys."

"Um, yes." The assistant shifted his weight from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable.

"You got a problem doing the Lord's work, Chambers?"

"No! Of course not, Sir! What ever you feel is right, I *know* is right!"

"Humph. Better know it, Chambers. God speaks to me!" He puffed futilely on his cigar and finally reached for his lighter. "And what of the demon's whores?"

"Sir?"

"The blood whores, fool! What have you done with them?"

"We've set them up in one of the houses, Sir. So they may recover and learn God's ways."

Puff. Puff. "Good." Puff. "Ask the snitch for a list of the blood whores regulars, too, won't you, Chambers."

"Sir?"

"You going deaf, Chambers? They can do their work! Only for God, now! Now go! See to my wishes!"

"Yes, Sir." Chambers bowed and left the room.

Harris hit the intercom button on his desk. "Madge?"

"Sir?"

"Get me a Lexus dealer on the phone."

"Right away, Sir."

"And, Madge?"

"Sir?"

"I want Xander. Send him to me."

"He's not in, Sir. We haven't seen him for several days."

"Well, find him! I want him! We've business to discuss!"

"Right away, Sir. I'll have some of the boys bring him in."

Harris lit his cigar once again. "Fucking Angel Organization." He puffed frantically. "No match for the righteous." He hit the intercom button again. "You got that dealership on the line yet, Madge?"

***************************************************************

Spike was bored. The club was loud and hot, alive with music and moving bodies. The men and women good looking, for the most part, and all dressed to catch. Still, he was bored.

Spike pushed his empty glass forward. "Another here, buddy." He told the passing bartender.

"Hit me too, barkeep."

Spike watched as another double-shot glass was pushed forward towards the bottle of his favorite scotch.

"Not having a good time?"

Spike didn't glance at the speaker. "Not really. You?"

"Well." Spike watched as a tanned hand picked up the glass and brought it back down empty. "It's better'n being home."

"Amen to that!" Spike downed his own shot and turned to smile at his new companion. Chocolate eyes and a foolish grin snared him. Spike couldn't help but grin in return. He thrust out his hand. "Spike."

"Xander." Came the reply and grasping hand.

The two shook hands firmly, but without trying to dominate.

Xander pulled his hand free with a smile. "Want to dance?"

"Not really. But if I say no will you go away?"

Xander smiled and moved to the empty barstool between them. "Nope."

Spike flashed a grin. "Come here often?"

"First time. You?"

"Virgin, too."

"Sorry state."

"Virgin?"

"Yep. I think we should dance." Xander stood and grabbed Spike's hand, pulling him towards the dance floor.

When the two reached the dance floor the music changed from fast to slow. Both grinned. Spike moved closer, wrapping his arms around Xander's hips while Xander's arms went about his shoulders.

"Hey. Good timing, eh?" Spike chuckled.

"Yep." Xander spoke into his ear. "It might have taken me several more drinks before I ended up in your arms, if I hadn't decided to make such a bold move."

"Naw. I'da had ya here in *one* more drink. But still, I like that you're so bold."

"So."

"So? What?" Spike held tight and turned them.

"We're gonna be bold?"

"We are. What's you're next bold move?"

"Well, it just so happens that I know a place."

"A place? What kind of place?"

"A place that two foot loose and fancy free guys can go and get to know one another." Xander moved his hands down to cup Spike's ass. "You *are* free, aren't ya?"

"Well, sorta. . . I've a bloke's hands all over me ass right about now."

"Ah." Xander moved the pair into a spin. "Don't mind him. Just do as he says." Xander moved his mouth close to Spike's ear. "You can't help but do what he wants. He's a master of seduction."

"Well then. What shall I do?"

"Follow me!" Xander took Spike's hand and led him out of the club.

Neither noticed the two limos pulling up and goons piling out, each group intent upon finding the soon to be lovers.

*****
Part 2:

The bartender, while a pro with disgruntled lovers and cops bursting in, was a bit taken back by the twin sets of goons thrusting pictures of men in his face, held his cool.

"Naw. Never seen 'em." He told the goons holding up Xander's picture. He tapped the picture of Spike with one hand while he fingered the hundred-dollar tip the bleached blonde had given him with the other. "Now *that* one! Him I've seen. Trouble maker. Kicked him outta here a few days back. Told him to never come back." He smiled at the goons. "Can I get you boys something to drink?"

Grunts and retreating backs were his only reply, as he watched the goons head out the door. He shrugged his shoulders, hoping the two would be okay. They made a nice couple. He could tell these things.

****************************************************************

"So, just where is this place you know of?" Spike asked.

"Huh? Place? There's no place. I was just seeing if I could pick you up."

"What?" Spike stopped walking to look at Xander. "You've picked me up and you've no place to take me? Bad form, man! How can I fuck you without a *place*?"

Xander just grinned at him. "Just like that? What? You think I'm some kinda slut?" Xander took Spike's hand in his and began walking again.

"Yes! I think you're just some kind of slut! I was *hoping* you we're some kind of slut!"

Xander just laughed and stopped once more, turning to face Spike. He leaned down and kissed the bottle blonde on the lips. A quick peck. "Well, sorry, but you were wrong." Xander kissed him again, intending another quick peck, but Spike reached up and held his head still, while he thrust his mouth against his and let his tongue push into the boys, sweeping into and tasting. Spike pulled back slowly, running his tongue along Xander's upper lip.

"Slut or not. I'm going to have you."

Xander looked at Spike with glazed eyes. "Yeah." He nodded his head. He grinned after a moment. When his brain started to function again after that kiss. "Yes. I thought we could get a room." Xander started walking again, holding Spike's hand and pulling him along. "Lots of hotels right around the corner." He stopped walking, but didn't look back at Spike. "I know this, not 'cause I *frequent* them, but just because I know they're there."

Spike squeezed his hand. "We could go to my place."

*********************************************************

When the two rounded the corner Spike stopped abruptly, noticing the limo parked in front of his building.

"We can't go to my place after all, pet."

"No? And why not? Is some *one* home?"

Spike chuckled. "Nope. Look." He pointed to the limo. "See that? That's my dad's people. Come to get me for some reason I'm sure I don't care to know about."

"Ah. I know all about not wanting to be with dad and his people. Well, then. We should head to *my* place."

"We should. Can we walk?"

"Yeah. It takes forever to get a cab in LA. It's not far."

****************************************************************

"You live pretty close to me, pet. That's nice."

"Isn't it? We've the makings of more than just a bar pick up here, my firen-shit." Xander stopped and wrapped his arm around Spike's shoulders, turning him around quickly and walking the other way.

"What? Do *you* have someone at home?"

"No. *I* have *my* dad's people there, too!"

"Well, aren't *we* the favorite sons?"

"Seems we are." Xander stopped walking once they turned the corner and looked at Spike. "Look. I'm not playing games. I just *really* don't want to talk to those people now. You want to go get a room? For real?"

"Yes. I do. Hey, look! A cab! How fortuitous for us!" Spike stepped into the street, stopping the cab. The cabby was not impressed, nor was he happy.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, asshole? This ain't New York! I stop when I got a fare called in! I stop when-"

Spike thrust a crisp hundred-dollar bill under the cabby's nose. "I stop when some one *pays* me to. Hop in. Where can I take you gentlemen this evening?"

*****************************************************

Angle hit the intercom button. "You tracked down my childe, yet Marge?"

"No, Sire. They've not found Spike yet, but Kate is on her way up with a-bundle-it looks to be, Sire."

"Good. Send her right up. And Marge? Call down to the rooms."

"Of course, Sire."

***************************************

"Kate. Good to see you. And you've brought me a present. Good. So many people have let good manners slide. No one brings a gift when they come calling, anymore. Such a shame."

"Angel, this is very dangerous for me. I had to-"

"Kate! Please. A gift is a gift. I'd hate to think strings come attached. Cause if strings are attached, I might get the urge to use them to strangle you." Angel came around his desk and took the struggling bundle from her. He lifted the cover to reveal a duck-taped, hand cuffed, and very terrified human.

"I'm so glad you took the time to gift wrap, Kate. It show's such class. You're good people, Kate."

"I'm sick of your games, Angel! I can't just-

Angel cut her off with a vicious backhand. He came to stand over her prone form. He kicked her in the stomach. "Sick of my games, Kate? I haven't begun to play with you, Kate. You wouldn't like my games. You wouldn't *live* through my games, Kate." Angle placed his foot on her chin and smiled down at her. "I'm not playing with you, Kate. I'm dead serious." He gave her a smile and removed his foot. "I thank you for the present. You run along now, and I won't kill you or any of your friends." Angel turned back to his present, ignoring her mad scramble for the exit.

"So. You don't talk? Is that true?" Angel ripped the duck tape from the man's mouth.

"Devil! Satan! Never shall I speak to you!"

"Um, okay. But you just *spoke* to me. God's gonna be mad at you!" Angel grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his head back. He leaned down close to the panting man's face. "You are going to talk, my friend. You're gonna *scream* a lot first, sure. But you'll talk."

"Never!" Angel punched the man hard enough to knock him unconscious. He chuckled, letting the man fall to the floor. He walked to his desk and hit the intercom button. "She ready for me, Marge?"

"She doesn't answer, Sire."

"That's okay, Marge. She's always ready." Angle grabbed the unconscious man by the hair and dragged him to his private elevator. To the rooms.

****************************************************************

"Fifty dollars a night or two hundred a week."

"That's ridiculous!"

"Yeah." The woman looked up from her GLAMOUR magazine. Her eyes went from Xander's outraged face to Spike's bland one. "Ya'll want to have a quick one night with us or a blissful weeks stay at chez'fuck? It's up to you. We, the management, don't care." She popped her gum.

Spike grinned and refrained from popping her neck. He slapped two hundred dollars down on the counter. "We'll take the week."

She popped her gum and grabbed a key, slapping it on the counter. "Thrifty of you. You're room 213, next to the ice machine on the corner. Have fun and come again."

"You know, I *hate* people like that!" Xander said, as they made their way to the room. "If you hate your job so much, quit! And hell, if you hate people, go find a nice job where you have your own little cubicle and all you have to do is punch in some numbers or data or what ever and you don't have to deal with peop-"

Spike had let Xander vent all the way to the room but once they were inside he slammed the door shut and backed the grumbling boy against it and shut him up with a kiss. His hand's went to Xander's shirt and began to unbutton it while pulling it free from the boy's jeans. Xander's hands sank into Spike's hair cupping his head as Spike made his way to suckle at his nipples.

"I talk too much, huh? I've been told that."

Spike released his nipple and stood up straight to look Xander in the eyes. He grinned at the boy and reached down to unsnap and unzip Xander's jeans.

"That's okay, pet. Talking's good. I like to talk." He cupped the boy's ass and pushed his jeans down and over his ass, letting them fall to the floor. "We could talk about how hard you are." Spike reached down and took hold of Xander's erection. He gave it a squeeze. "You're very hard, pet. We could talk about how good you taste to me." Spike leaned in to kiss Xander, thrusting his tongue inside the now silent boy's mouth. Spike thrust deep with his tongue, tasting and teasing, running his tongue along the boys cheeks and palate, while his hand continued to work at Xander's cock. Spike pulled his mouth away from Xander's and dropped to his knees in front of the boy. He began undoing and removing Xander's shoes. He leaned forward a bit and took the head of Xander's cock into his mouth, running his tongue over the head and then sucking. He let it go with a pop and lifted each foot free of the jeans. Once Xander was free of the jeans he took the boys cock back into his mouth sliding down far enough to run his tongue across Xander's tightly drawn sac. He pulled back and looked up to smile at Xander. "Talking is good. Fucking is better."

Xander slid down the door to the floor. He came over Spike and began pulling Spike's shirt over his head. Xander latched his mouth onto Spike's as his hands went to Spike's pants, undoing them with indecent haste. Xander gasped in pleasure once Spike's hardness was in his hand.

Spike groaned and rolled them over. "Bed, pet?"

"Too far away."

"Yeah." Spike spat in his hand and coated his cock. He maneuvered them so that Xander's knees were over his shoulders and his cock at his entrance. He leaned down to kiss him, thrusting his tongue in Xander's mouth as his cock thrust past the tight ring of muscle. Spike took hold of Xander's cock and began to jack it in time with his thrusts. Soon both came with loud cries of pleasure. After his release Xander let his legs fall to the side and Spike collapsed upon Xander. Xander slid a hand into Spike's hair and began petting him.

"So?" Xander murmured into the quiet.

"So?"

"What's wrong with *your* dad?"

Spike snickered. "It's a secret."

"Really? Tell you *my* secret if you tell me *yours*"

Spike lifted up his head to look in soul-deep brown eyes. He grinned. "Okay. But you're not gonna believe me."

*****
Part 3:

Angel took a deep breath once the elevator doors opened up. He loved the rooms. So full of scents. So full of death. He kicked a stray skull out of his way as he dragged his guest out of the elevator and let him slump upon the damp floor.

"Delia!"

He heard the crack of a whip and a cry of pain and grinned. "Delia!" He yelled again.

"*Mistress* Delia to you!" She came striding out of one of the rooms dressed all in black leather. Leather corset, strapped tight, breasts all but spilling out, leather thong, ass spread and tight, leather boots, heels six inches high and tight laces reaching up to grasp at taunt thighs. She held a leather riding crop in one hand and sported a tight, wide red leather choker around her neck, proclaiming her as Angels'.

"What?" She snapped, angry at having been interrupted.

"You forget yourself, mistress!" Angel snapped.

"Do I? Ah, yes, I do. What can I do for you, *master*?" Cordelia made the word into a curse.

"I have a project for you. I want him to speak." He gestured to the man lying slumped on the floor. "He doesn't want to."

"He's human?"

"Yes."

Mistress Delia rolled her eyes. "I'm *sick* of humans! They don't last."

Angel growled at her. "You'll make this one last until I've found out what I want to know!"

Delia slapped the leather crop against her naked thigh, grinning at the bite of pain it caused.

"Will, I? And if I *don't*? What will you do? Hurt me?" She gave a throaty chuckle. "I'd like to see you try. *Really* I would."

"I don't have time to play with you, Cordelia. I want this one to talk and I want him to talk fast! I'll fucking have bunny's kiss you to death if you don't do as I say, bitch!"

"Fine!" Cordelia snickered. "No need to bring up bunny rabbits, Master. Bring him into room 6. I'll have him talking in no time." Cordelia, Angels' mistress of pain, led the way to one of her favorite rooms.

"Chain him to the wall." She instructed.

Angel happily complied, securing the man's hands over his head in the shackles hanging from the ceiling and his feet, spread out, shoulder wide, into iron shackles protruding from the damp brick walls. The unconscious man fell forward, his face stopping about two feet from the damp musty floor.

Cordelia went to a control panel on the far wall and pushed a button. She grinned when the arm shackles began to take up slack and the man was soon facing her, back against the cold damp bricks.

She walked to her new assignment and hit the unconscious man across the face with her ridding crop, causing a deep welt that began to ooze small drops of blood. She smiled at Angel. "He'll talk, Angel. He'll talk."

****************************************************

"So, you're a devil?"

"No! I'm just Calvin!"

"You work for the devil, fiend! That makes you one!"

"No! I work for Angle!"

"He's a devil, lost one! And you are his servant!" Harris Sr. thrust a cross into Calvin's face, watching with glee as he twisted away and began to burn. "Admit it, fiend, so that you may be saved! Repent! So that you may be saved! So that we can bring to you the comforts of God. The comforts of glory." Harris Sr. moved the cross away.

"I've never met the devil. I've never met God. I'm just a vampire." He whimpered.

"So! You admit your evil ways! You confess! You are a devil! You are a vampire!" Harris Sr. placed the cross against Calvin's cheek and let it burn.

Calvin stood with a roar of pain. He was surrounded on all sides by crosses and guards armed with holy water. He smashed a doubled fist down upon the Senior Harris' desk, shattering a corner of it. He picked up a large wooden shaft and fell, chest first upon it. Better dust than these nuts.

"God damn it! I wanted a *snitch* ! That's what I want! That's what I asked for! Offer anything! Offer blood! Offer blood-whores! Offer what ever the fuck it is the fiends want! Just don't bring be another loyal servant of that devil, Angle!"

"Yes, sir."

"Go!" Harris Sr. moved to stand behind what was left of his desk as the men left the room and hit the intercom button. "Madge!"

"Sir?"

"Get some cleaning women in here! And order me a new desk!" He thought about the money that he had coming in from his hijacked supply of blood. "Mahogany! A *big* one!"

"Of course, Sir."

He sat back in his chair and surveyed the pile of dust that had been Calvin. Loyalty was a pain in the ass when it wasn't for him.

***************************************************

Mistress Delia put down the container of salt. She licked the blood away from the man's lips as he moaned and prayed. "Shh. I can rinse away the salt." She kissed his lips. "I just need a little more information. You've been so helpful. Really you have. And I thank you for that. I just want to know where his son lives. Humm? Tell me that and I'll make all the pain go away." Delia pressed her cool body close to his ravaged one. His leg shackles had been removed and he hung limply from his arms, his knees bent, too weak to support him.

"But, mistress, I don't know! None of us know!" He began crying again, the salt from his tears burning the raw flesh of his cheeks.

"You dare to lie to me? You? Whose life I hold in my hands?" Delia turned the man so his raw back was once again facing her. She wet her cat o' nine tails in water and then placed it in a tray of salt. Once coated she lashed at his back, already stripped of flesh.

Once the human was passed out again she turned to face her audience.

"He knows nothing else. He would have told me."

"Are you sure?"

Delia walked close to and struck Angel across the face. "You doubt your mistress?"

"Once again you go to far!" Angel grabbed her and pushed her against the stone wall. Angel kicked her legs wide and moved between them. He grabbed her thong and pulled it tight and to the side, pressing his erection into her ass. He reached down and thrust his fingers into her sopping entrance. He moved his mouth close to her ear. "No. You'd like that too much." He chuckled and pulled away, wiping his wet fingers on her cheek.

"Good job, though." He turned and left, calling out. "Kill him or keep him. A present from me to you, Mistress Cordelia. Because I love and value you." His laughter echoed until the elevator doors closed behind him.

"Bastard!"

**************************************************

Spike lay still in the bed as Xander suckled at his throat. He brought his hands up to cup Xander's shoulders. "Xander?"

"Um?" Xander let his tongue run up Spike's neck to his lips. He licked across the perfect shape of them, outlining them with the tip of his tongue before plunging it in deep for a kiss. After a moment of tasting the coolness of Spike's mouth, Xander pulled back with a grin. "What?"

"Secrets."

"Yeah. What were you gonna tell me?"

"I wasn't going to tell you anything. Not until you told me your secrets, that is."

"Ah. Yes. So, you're a stickler, huh?"

Spike grinned. "Yep. A stickler. That's me."

"Well fine!" Xander rolled over to rest on his back, next to Spike. "*My* dad's a nutso religious fanatic out to rid the world of demons and witches and vampires. And make money doing it when ever possible. Of course I use the term 'religious' loosely. There's no real religion involved. I'd hate to cast aspersions against any religion by associating them with my dad. That would just be wrong." He turned on his side to face Spike, his arm crooked, head resting in his hand. He grinned. "What's *your* dad?"

"A vampire."

"Ah. Then that would explain why you're a vampire, eh? Hey! I didn't think vampires could have little vampire babies! Bet you were a cute little vampire baby!"

"Huh?"

Xander laughed down at Spike. "I've a neck fetish. That was *me* sucking on your neck. I'm why you have all the hickeys." Xander rolled over and on to Spike to grin down at him. He ran a finger across the bruises he had left, stopping at Spike's jugular. "Doesn't go thump, thump. And it should." He leaned down to kiss the spot. "Unless you're a vampire. Then no thump thump."

"So. You know. Do I scare you?"

Xander laughed and wiggled upon him. "Uh huh. Yeah. Show me your vampire face."

Spike did. Pulling back his lips so Xander got a good look at his fangs.

Xander grinned and leaned back down to darken the hickey at Spike's jugular.

"I don't think you are a stable human, Xander." Spike told him, arching his neck into the kiss.

Xander bit down hard, drawing blood. He pulled back to grin at Spike, with bloody lips. "I'm not. But that's okay. 'Cause I don't think you're an all together there vampire."

Spike reached up to kiss Xander's bloody grin. "I'm not. Just ask dad!"

Xander pulled back. "Yeah. *Your* dad. So who is he and how did you come about."

Spike sighed. "Well, you're right. Vampires don't have little vampire babies. But they do create childer and minions. I'm a full childe of Angelus'. His favorite childe and his chosen heir. He wants me to follow in his footsteps. Be his right hand man."

"Ah. I see. My dad, too. But I, at least, will get it all once he dies." Xander laughed. "Of course, I'm almost certain Dad is *not* going to be leaving me his empire!" He smacked Spike's lips with his. "But I can live happy knowing he's going to die, sooner or later. *Your* dad will never die, huh?"

"Not *naturally* anyway. And I don't see pops getting ashed any time soon!" Spike wrapped his arms around Xander's shoulders and rolled them over, so that he was on top looking down into startled brown eyes. "And I don't want him too be. I just don't want to run the business."

"So! You *like* being a lazy-do-nothing-lay-about-party-animal-happy-to-live-off-the-labors-of-your-dad, huh?"

Spike arched his scared brow. "Sire? Is that you?"

Xander grinned. "Heard that many, *many* times. Was thinking of having it tattooed on my ass; but it's kinda long."

"Yeah. And you have such a cute ass. You wouldn't want to mar such cuteness."

"You think my ass is cute?"

"I *thought* it was. Maybe I was mistaken." Spike moved off of Xander. "Roll over and let me have another look."

"Oh, it's cute. *Very* cute."

"That's what they all say. Roll over." Xander did. He clenched and unclenched his ass cheeks. Spike slapped his ass. "No trying to influence the judges with fancy moves." Xander chuckled while Spike ran a hand across his ass. "Humm. Yes, very nice." Spike leaned down to suckle at one ripe round ass cheek. "Yep. Cute and even tasty." Spike leaned back down and began to suckle more. Xander was moaning and withering by the time Spike pulled back to admire the smiley face he had suckled upon Xander's ass. He moved so that he lay between Xander's legs. He spread the mortal's ass cheeks and ran his tongue over the tightly draw sac and up to his puckered hole. He sank his tongue past the tight ring of muscle; Xander moaned and arched up. Spike worked his tongue in and out of Xander's hole, his hands holding Xander's ass tight and wide. Spike pulled back and moved quickly, replacing his tongue with his cock. He pushed in, sinking in deeply, moaning in pleasure when his balls rested against Xander's ass, his cock tightly sheathed in Xander's hot depths. Spike's arms went around the boy's shoulder's, sliding beneath him. He clutched his hands together beneath Xander's chest and latched his mouth to Xander's neck, sucking and licking as he began to slam his cock in and out of Xander, his rhythm hard and fast. When I felt himself close to completion he moved his hand down to grasp Xander's swollen member. He began to work Xander's cock in time with his own frenzied thrusts. He came when he felt Xander's hot release spill across his hand, biting down on Xander's shoulder.

"Shit!" Xander flexed his shoulders; dislodging Spike's still suckling mouth.

"What?" Spike pulled back, licking blood from his lips. He smiled and licked blood from the wound on Xander's shoulder.

"You bit me!"

Spike kissed the spot. "Yep. Vampires! What are you gonna do?" Spike slowly pulled out of Xander, groaning at the hot clasp of Xander's ass upon him. He turned on his side to spoon the other man. He moved his mouth to Xander's ear. "Did it hurt?"

Xander giggled. "What? That ass pounding or the bite?"

Spike licked his ear. "The bite. You *loved* the ass pounding."

"I kinda liked the bite too."

"Yep. You are not the least bit stable, pet. Not stable at all."

"Yeah. I know. But I got a cute ass."

************************************************

"Marge, have they found my boy yet?"

"No, Sire, not yet. But they are still looking. I will let you know as soon as I know. All knowledge I acquire I will share with you, Sire."

"Is that sarcasm I hear, Marge?"

"Yes, Sire. Too subtle?"

"Not at all. Just checking."

"Of course, Sire."

**************************************************************

Harris Sr. sat behind his shiny new desk. He smiled at his newly acquired employee, from across its great expanse. His snitch. A money grubbing little low life, belonging to the great Angel Organization. Not exactly what he had hoped for, but with coaching, Harris Sr. was sure he'd be a useful asset. He hit the intercom button.

"You got a line on my boy yet, Madge?"

"Not yet, Sir. But the boys are on it. They'll find him. Trust in the Lord, Sir."

"And just what do you mean by that, Madge?"

"Why, only that you must trust in His good will, Sir. What ever else could I have meant?"

*****
Part 4:

Spike rolled to his back, stretched and groaned. He turned his head to the side and grinned at site of the still sleeping Xander. He knew it was time. He didn't want to. *Damn*, but he didn't want to.

"Shit!" He mumbled out loud. He'd better do it. He sat up in bed and surveyed the room, looking for his pants. He spotted them, crumpled in a heap near the door. He smiled as he got up and went over to snatch them up. He stuck his hand in the pocket and withdrew his pager as he made his way back to the bed. He plopped back down, his back against the headboard, as he began scrolling through the numbers. Lots of numbers. Mostly the numbers were from good ole dad and good ole Marge. Of course. He deleted the numbers as he went through them. He stopped at one he didn't recognize. He quirked a brow as he looked at the number, trying to place it. Curiosity got the better of him and he picked up the bedside phone and punched in the number.

"About goddammed time you checked in boy!"

Spike grinned. "Marge, you sneaky little cow!"

"Ha! I do the same damn thing every time you take a powder! Get a new cell phone and send you the number. You call. I'm a bit peeved you continue to fall for it. Thought I taught you better."

"I knew it was you, Marge, my angel, my one true love."

"Did not."

"Oh, but my goddess, I did!"

"Cut the sweet talk, boy. Angel is pissed. Angel has lost a shipment. Angel is about to loose another shipment, and he wants his boy here to help him rectify the problem. He has obtained certain information that leads him to believe the heist will occur sometime tonight. He wants to be there to stop it."

"*He* wants to be there?"

"Yes. And he wants his boy there with him. I have the goons out looking for you, you know. They have no idea you're holed up in a seedy motel. So get your ass in here, ASAP, or I'll send them to get you!"

Spike sighed. "You amaze me, my love."

"Of course I do. I'll give you an hour." The line went dead.

Spike hung up the phone and turned to Xander. He moved his body closer to the still sleeping boy and began to nibble at Xander's lips. Xander smacked him in the head but didn't wake. Spike grinned and brought his hand up to brush along Xander's lips. He quickly withdrew his hand so that Xander slapped his own face.

Xander groaned and wiggled but did not wake. Spike chuckled and smashed his lips down upon Xander's. Xander's eyes flew open and his mouth opened. Spike thrust his tongue in. Xander's hands came up, clutching in Spike's hair, holding the vampire's head still and close so he could let his own tongue come into play. The kiss lasted for several hot moments before Spike reluctantly pulled away.

"I have to get home, pet."

Xander's face went blank. "Okay."

Spike ignored Xander's apparent shut down. "I just checked in with my Sire's oracle." He grinned down at Xander. "She's got the goons after me. Something big is up, and I have to be there. Give me your phone number; address, all that good stuff. I'll get back to you when I can." Spike rose from the bed and began to dress.

He walked to the bed, pulling out his wallet before he sat down next to Xander. He pulled out a card from his wallet and held it out to Xander. "This is me. My address, my phone, my pager." He leaned down and kissed Xander quickly. "You'll need a code for the pager. I mostly ignore it."

Xander grinned, feeling better about being left. "69?"

Spike laughed. "Very unoriginal pet. How about 926? For Xan?"

Xander smiled and took the card. "Okay. I'll put in a number and then 926." Xander rolled across the bed to end table. He grabbed a pen and pad and began writing. He tore off the top sheet when he was finished and moved back to Spike. He handed him the paper.

"This is me. All my numbers."

Spike took the paper and kissed him again. "Don't worry, pet. I'll call."

"Promise?" Xander knew he sounded doubtful and needy. He couldn't help it. He felt both; doubtful *and* needy.

Spike just grinned. "Don't think I'll let you get away from me, pet!" He leaned down for one final kiss and left the room.

"Shit!" Xander mumbled when the door closed. He reached for the phone. He, too, needed to check in.

Damn, but he didn't want to.

*************************************************************

Spike strolled into the outer offices with a big grin and bigger bouquet of roses. He dropped to his knees in front of Marge's desk and held out the flowers.

"My love! My sweet! My one and only! I ask that you do not cast aside my lowly attempt to sway your favors my way. I know the beauty of these roses pale in comparison to *your* beauty; but they are only a token of my love and passion for you. Take them as they are meant to be; but a tribute to you, and an offering of my love."

Marge snatched the roses from Spike and held them to her nose for a second. "Rise, peasant."

Spike rose, but kept his head down.

Marge barked out a laugh. "I'm easily swayed, boy, and you know this. Angel, however, will not be so easily swayed."

Spike grinned at her. "Well, then, maybe you should give me the roses back. They might work on pops."

"They won't, so I'll just keep my roses you putz. Go on in. And be sure that you tell him *I* sent you!"

"Glory grabbing cow!"

Spike walked into Angel's office.

"Dammit boy! Where the fuck have you been?!"

"Out screwing around, Sire. You know me."

Angel laughed. "That's my boy! But we have serious business to see to! Sources have it that we are about to be hijacked." He scowled, sweeping a dirty look to all those gathered in his office. "As we have been before! You would know this if you bothered to check in, boy!"

"Well, Lefty, the boys, and I can handle it. No need to worry yourself, Sire." Spike glanced around the room. "Uh, where's Lefty, Sire?"

"He's dust, my boy! Dust!"

"What the hell happened to Lefty, Sire?"

Angel grinned at his favorite. "*I* happened to him, boy! Pissed me off! Lost a shipment. Can't have that, can we boy?"

"But, Sire, Lefty was your second."

Angel stormed over to Spike, grabbing him by his throat and slamming him against the wall. "*You* should be my second boy!" He squeezed Spike's throat. "But you choose to play. You choose to screw around. I've let this go. But no longer. Tonight we go into battle, boy!" Angel let Spike drop. He turned to look at the others gathered in the room. "Are we ready boys? Ready to kick some Harris Organization ass?"

"Harris-" Spike sputtered. "Harris organization, Sire? What, exactly, is that?"

"Damn it, boy! Where have you been? Don't answer that! I don't want to know! The Harris Organization is a bunch of lunatics, *run* by a lunatic! They have hijacked our last shipment of blood. They have stolen-kidnapped!-our bloodwhores! They are a big ass fuckin' thorn in my side, and tonight we kill them!" Angel moved back to his desk and picked up his favorite glock. He cocked it, sending a bullet into the chamber and shoved it into his pants. He grinned at Spike, and buttoned his suit jacket. "Grab a gun, boy, and follow us."

"Jesus Sire! Are you sure this is necessary?"

"Of course I'm sure, boy! Now grab a vest and a gun and come *on*!" Angel headed out the door. Spike followed.

"Spike!" Marge called to him.

"Yes, luv?"

"Go back and get one of the chain metal vests. They'll be shooting wooden, honey. Know you're vampires, they do. And for hell's sake, watch the holy water! They're sure to have some of that. Just stay back and shoot."

Spike went back in and came out with a vest.

Marge ducked under her desk and came out with two Uzis. She handed them to Spike with a grin. "Here you go honey. Just mow 'em down with these." She winked at him. "From far away, luv. Don't get to close."

Spike snatched the machine guns from her with a grin. He leaned in to kiss her. "See why I love you, my sunshine?"

"Oh, you! Get to the limos, before your Sire leaves you!"

****************************************************

"Don't you just love the docks at night, boy?"

Spike kicked away a particularly bold rat. "No, Sire, I don't."

Angel laughed and slapped Spike across his back. "I love it! The smells. The sights. The action." He pointed to men dressed in gray coveralls disembarking one of the ships. "See them, boy? That's us. That's our money. Blood from over seas. Frozen fresh." Angel took site of a worker with his handgun and followed him on his journey down the gangplank. "Yep. Our money." He lowered the gun and smiled at Spike. "Keep an eye out boy. The bad guys should be showing up, any minute now."

As if Angel had willed it so, pandemonium broke out.

Men-humans-dressed in black came pouring out, overwhelming the ships' crew. Guns and crosses were drawn. The crew seemed confused by the crosses; they were human and knew nothing about vampires. They were just doing a job. They did as the hijackers bade them to. They unloaded the cargo at gunpoint. They had already been paid and as long as they didn't get shot, didn't really care where the shipment went. The take over was fast and clean. Angle's men didn't make a move. Spike tensed, ready to go in.

"Shh, Spike." Angel whispered. He had a smile in his voice, Spike could tell. He'd heard it many times before. "Let 'em unload."

"That's it." Angel whispered as he watched the last man board the ship.

He took aim at the man left standing on the dock. He shot him. Right in the head.

The dead man hadn't hit the docks before the battle was on.

Harris's men gave a good fight; but they were out powered, out numbered and simply overwhelmed. The Harris group had expected no resistance, and Angel and his forces were ready for them. Angel's men stayed out of reach of their crosses, holywater, stakes and crossbows. They picked them off like ducks in a shooting gallery. Or they simply shot them down with high-powered rifles and machine guns. When it was over, only dead humans lay at the docks. No wounded vampires.

The trucks were driven away by Angel's men.

Not one man from the Harris Organization was left alive.

"How will we explain all the dead, Sire?" Spike asked Angel, when it was over.

Angle lit a cigar and grinned at Spike. He turned back to look upon the carnage with a smile.

"We? What do *we* have to explain? It's the docks. It's a religious group. Must be drugs!" Angle laughed and puffed on his cigar. "Let's head home, boy! Nothing left for us here. And I can hear the sirens. Cops will be here soon. Much as I love my little Kate, I prefer to see her on *my* terms."

***********************************************

"Christ-all-mighty! Every last one of them, Madge?"

"Yes, sir. No one from the raid-the, uh, intervention-left, Sir."

"Well, bless their hearts, they went doing God's work. You found my boy, yet?"

"Yes, Sir. He is on his way in. Won't be long now."

"Good. Good. Send him right in when he gets here, Madge. We've work to do!"

Harris lit up a stogie, thoroughly pissed. He had lost a lot of money and a lot of people. Rationally, he knew it wasn't Jr.'s fault. But he wasn't rational on *good* days, and this was a *bad* day. It had to be someone's fault. And it wasn't his. Someone was going to pay.

*****