~ * ~

Xander sulked for the rest of the day and into the evening. Spike left him alone until the healer finally got there.

"I called hours ago. Where ya been? Wanker."

Spike glared at the healer until he shrugged. "I had a female in labor. It took a while. If the service had thought it was life threatening, they'd have said so. You smacked his ass. Where's the emergency?"

Spike looked a little shamefaced. "I think I overdid it. He won't talk to me, so I'm not sure how bad it really is. Best take a good look at him."

The healer thought for a moment then faced Spike. "It's none of my business except in my capacity as a healer. But . . . I . . . I know I'm taking my life in my hands so . . . if you're interested in a real relationship with the boy – sexual, I mean – you'd better be really careful. You hurt him and he'll never like it. You need to touch him . . . a lot. Get him used to the idea. You're very tactile and I think he is too. He'll forgive you a lot if you cater to his emotional needs. Enough said. I'd better see to him."

Spike started to get indignant with the healer until he realized that the human had his best interests in mind, as well as Xander's. He thought about what the man had said and realized that he had, indeed, been neglecting Xander. He had wanted to get his business under control then see to Xander, but he was going to have to balance things better or he'd never get the boy to like him.

"Ok, so . . . you don't . . ." Spike followed the healer into Xander's room and blinked. Xander was face down on his bed, naked. His buttocks were rather badly bruised and he was really sulking.

Spike sighed silently. *damn*

"Well, young man, let me take a look at you. This isn't as bad as it feels. You're bruised but . . . mmmm . . . ."

Xander cringed. That particular noise from a doctor usually meant he had a broken bone. Spike snarled at the healer.

"Don't scare him."

"You're sure he's afraid?"

"Smell it, can't I?"

"Of course. . . . Xander, truly, there's nothing wrong but some bruising. I'm going to give Master Spike a lotion to put on it. And forgive me for touching you without permission. Sorry."

Xander lifted up and looked at the healer over his shoulder. "Excuse me? And when can I have chocolate?"

Spike couldn't help smiling at Xander's priorities.

"You can have chocolate, in moderation, any time you want it. And, as you're Master Spike's pet; no one is supposed to touch you without his permission. Or yours, in the case of healers and such. Few of the new generation of vampires know the true way of things. They share their pets and abuse them. Most of them haven't got a clue. I keep treating the poor things, but most of them don't last long. Now . . . here's the lotion. Pat it on, don't rub." He turned back to Spike. "And if you have aspirin, he can have some of that. Well, I've got several other patients to visit. If you have any questions or concerns, call the service. I might not be available, but the other two healers are as good as I am. Trust them."

He closed his case, nodded to Spike and walked out, leaving the lotion on the bedside table.

Spike sat down on the side of the bed and picked up the lotion. "I'll put this on for you."

Xander stirred restlessly. "You don't have to. Timmins can do it. It's ok."

"Not ok. Xander, I . . . Bloody hell, I'm no good at this stuff. Just be still an' let me, yeah?"

Xander shrugged. "Ok. Whatever . . . Spike?"

"Yeah, pet?"

"I'm sorry."

"Know ya are. Kinda obvious."

"Don't be a shit. I'm trying here. It'd help if you'd try too, ya know."

Spike patted lotion on Xander and sighed. "Yeah. Sorry again. Make your point."

"I . . . shouldn't have snuck around behind your back. I should have just stood up to you and told you what I wanted. I put you in an awkward position, one I wouldn't want to be in myself. You've got a hell of a job to do. Keeping the Hellmouth under control, even with the help of a slayer," Spike snorted, "isn't easy. So I . . . for lack of a better comparison . . . damaged your face. Questioned your leadership. Whatever."

"Got you, pet. So you're not mad? Not that I care."

Xander grunted as Spike touched an especially sore spot. "Sorta, but not really. I mean, I'm your thrall. I looked up that spell and its consequences. Thanks, by the way, for not taking real advantage. I . . . let's change the subject, ok?"

Spike agreed. "Yeah. You need to keep working out with Master Bruce. You're getting real good. Give yourself a rest tomorrow."

Xander agreed but suddenly exclaimed. "Oh, shit. I have to collect my paycheck. It'll be ready tomorrow. I can put them off until Friday but much longer and they'll cancel it and I'll have to have it reissued. And don't tell me I don't need it. I earned it and I want it."

Spike shrugged. "Well, you're right. It's yours and you should have it. We'll go ‘round on Friday and pick it up. I'll go with. How's that?"

Xander nodded, rubbing his cheek against the pillow. "That'll be good . . . um . . . Spike?"

"Yeah, pet?"

"You said you'd arrange for me to have lessons, if I wanted?"

What kind of lessons?"

"Guitar." Xander's ear tips turned red. Spike smelled his nervousness.

"Ya wanna learn to play harpsichord, I'll get you lessons. Don't ever be afraid to ask me for stuff. I may say no, but there'll be a good reason."

Xander sighed; his butt was beginning to feel better. He told Spike so and Spike just grunted but he continued to put the lotion on.

He also admired the view. He could see everything Xander had and his package was very nice. Spike looked one more time at the portal he hoped to enter.

"Ok, pet. Does that feel better?"

Xander mumbled something, nearly asleep. He rolled over onto one side. Spike pulled the covers up over his shoulders, capped the bottle and left.

Xander grumbled, aware that something was missing but too close to sleep to figure out what.

~ * ~

Xander woke the next morning and groaned. Spike had done a thorough job of applying the lotion last night but he still felt the effects of being spanked by a master vampire in a temper. He groped for some kind of support so he could get out of bed and take care of his screaming bladder.

Timmins had been listening for sounds from the room. Spike had told him to come get him when Xander woke. He went to get Spike and missed Xander falling out of the bed.

When Spike found Xander lying on the floor, he went into game face immediately. "Ya stupid git! Why didn't you call someone? Here, let me help you."

Timmins stepped into the room hesitantly. He knew Spike was furious; he should have checked on Xander before he went to get Spike.

"Timmins, get in here. Xander needs both of us." Spike was going to have words with Timmins later, but right now Xander needed seeing to.

The two vampires lifted Xander to his feet. He was so stiff that he had trouble moving his legs. Spike finally eased him into the bathroom, with Timmins hovering in the background. Xander flushed bright red when he realized that he couldn't even pee without help.

"Dammit, Spike. I thought that lotion was supposed to keep me from getting stiff like this."

Timmins was examining the bottle while Spike helped Xander. "Er. . . no, sir. It is just a formula to keep you from bruising. It doesn't do much for stiffness. I've got something. I'll go get it. . . Master Spike?" Spike grunted to indicate that he'd heard. "Well, I . . . you should give the young master some Tylenol. I'll be back in a moment with the salve."

Xander finished his business and washed his hands. He wanted a shower but he knew that wasn't happening so he didn't resist when Spike helped him back to bed.

"Xander. Luv. I'm sorry. I went overboard . . ."

Xander held up a weary hand. "You already said that . . . like ten times or something . . . never mind. I've had worse for less. I'm just really stiff. Nothing really hurts. Timmins said I could have something? Will you get it for me?"

"Sure. And I'll see about that teacher, too." Spike didn't flinch as Timmins handed him a bottle over his shoulder. "Fix Xander's breakfast."

"Yes, master. I'm so sorry, master. I wouldn't have let him hurt himself for anything. But you said to get you the minute I heard him awaken."

Spike considered this for a moment. "Well, I'll have a talk with you later. And I do mean a talk. So make some breakfast, yeah?"

Timmins left to see to pills and breakfast and Spike bent to the business of anointing Xander's buttocks with the new lotion.

The minute the stuff touched him, Xander started to relax. The residual pain faded at the first touch of the soothing liquid. Timmins placed water and pills on the bedside table and left again.

Spike continued to smooth the analgesic over Xander's bruises long after it ceased to be necessary. Xander just enjoyed the sensation of being touched with kindness.

~ * ~

When Spike finished, Xander headed for a shower. Spike followed him into the bathroom and settled one hip on the counter.

"Pet, we gotta talk."

Xander adjusted the shower temperature and made sure he had towels. Spike watched without comment, just enjoying watching Xander move around. Spike noticed that Xander's butt was bruised despite the lotion that was supposed to have prevented that.

"We're going to talk? While I'm in the shower?"

"Yeah. Why not? You don't have to think much to shampoo hair, do you?"

Xander stepped into the shower. "Guess not. So . . . what do you want to talk about?"

Spike sighed. One of the reasons he had wanted to have Xander semi-preoccupied was what he was going to talk about. This subject was sure to bring about a real explosion.

"You remember when I said I had plans for you?"

"Yeah, I remember, and why do I suddenly have cold chills running up and down my spine?"

"Because I got to put you on display. I'm losin' control of the court. Some of the older vampires and demons remember when the high court Master had a pet. I have a pet, you, but I don't bring you to court. It's causin' trouble I don't need." Spike waited for Xander to fly off the handle and refuse.

"Ok, I could feel that one coming. It's going to be a real problem. If you let them touch me, that is. I'll cooperate; I know the consequences if I don't. If it was just you beating my ass, I'd go for the big N. O. But if you lose control of that ravening horde, it's bad . . . real bad. In an apocalyptic bad badness. Right?"

Spike took a moment to translate that into real English. "Yeah, it is. So, you're not going to raise hell?"

Xander shut off the shower and stepped out. Spike handed him a towel and he started drying his hair. "No. I'm going to be calm guy. Real calm. Otherwise, I'll be running in circles biting myself in the small of the back. So, here's the deal. I'll do research on the old traditions. I'm not going for the way the modern Masters treat their pets. And remember I'm a thrall. Um . . . is that better or worse, by the way? So anyway, I'll . . . we'll . . . um." Xander trailed off, red-faced and flustered.

Spike took a moment to admire Xander's body, his courage and his blazing flush.

"Ok, pet. I'll write up a sort of contract. What I expect of you. You write up what you can't deal with. We'll just do this like the B/D'ers do. Safe, sane and . . . sort of consensual. I'll order you to, if I have to, but I'd really rather not. Being bound to someone who hates me isn't to my taste at all."

Xander wiped his face and mumbled something into his towel. Spike heard most of it and just exclaimed ‘Oi!' in an indignant voice. But he decided not to make a big deal of Xander calling him soft hearted.

~ * ~

Xander ate the breakfast Timmins provided and asked him to get a message to Master Bruce that he wasn't going to be working out today. He was still stiff.

"What will you do?" Timmins hoped that Xander wasn't going to brood over his punishment. It wouldn't do any good and a sullen Xander was sure to piss off Master Spike.

"I'm going to do some Tai Chi and yoga, try to loosen up some and work out the last of this stiffness. Then I'm going to my office to work on my translation. I still can't believe I actually have one. An office, I mean."

"That's good. Um . . . Young Master?"

Xander looked at Timmins sharply. He was looking uncomfortable, for some reason. Xander didn't like it. The valet was usually so together. "What is it? Just get it out. I won't be pissed or anything. Pinky swear."

Timmins looked blank for a second then decided not understanding ‘pinky swear' didn't make any difference.

"I have a book that was left to me by my last master. I can't read it, but I'd really like to know what it says. If I leave it on your desk, could you give it a quick glance? If you can read it, I'd like you to tell me what it's about." At Xander's doubtful look he hurried on. "Oh, I don't expect you to translate the entire thing. But if you could figure out what language it's in, maybe I could learn it."

Xander smiled. "I wasn't looking . . . I mean . . . well, I'll be glad to translate it for you. It might be a while before I can get around to it but . . . yeah. I'll manage sooner or later . . . if it's in a language I know."

Timmins bowed slightly. "I'll be eternally grateful for whatever you can do. Thank you very much. I'll bring you some coffee about ten minutes after you come in, if that would be acceptable."

Xander nodded. "That would be great. I'll be off."

"Young Master?" Xander turned at the doorway. "Perhaps you should do Tai Chi first. You shouldn't eat so much just before doing yoga."

Xander nodded. "I know, but I was hungry. And I am doing Tai Chi first. And I'm going to avoid inverted postures, so I should be fine. I'll quit if I get nauseous. Don't worry."

Xander left for the gym and Timmins went to fetch his book.

~ * ~

Xander finished his workout and turned to find Bruce watching him. "Hey, sorry about crapping out on you today. But I just didn't think I should land on my butt too many times. It's bruised enough as it is."

"Yes, I heard. I'm ashamed of you. You know better than to defy Master Spike like that. But . . . you're so young. Maybe you don't know how most masters treat their pets." Bruce went on to tell Xander exactly what he could have expected if he had been unlucky enough to have been pet to any other master. Ever.

Xander felt sick. He was really lucky. Some of the things that Master Bruce told him about would have killed him outright, and others would have made him wish he was dead. He gulped and then sighed.

"Well, I'm glad we had this little talk. Sort of. Thanks. I guess."

Bruce nodded, satisfied that Xander had plenty to think about. He really hoped this was the last time Spike would punish Xander in anger. A master vampire who lost his temper with a pet was likely to kill him.

Xander had a lot to consider as he headed for his office. He was going to finish that translation today if he stayed up till midnight to do it.

He wasn't really reading it. He couldn't pay attention to meaning when he was trying to translate this language. He had to translate it word for word, then work on grammar. Actually understanding what the damn thing meant was the last step. So he needed to finish his word for word today, and the grammar if he could manage it.

He settled at his desk and pulled a large sheet of newsprint over to the blotter. He liked the end rolls of newspaper. He could cut them into sheets large enough to copy the actual original text onto, leaving large margins. He annotated and translated there then transferred his finished work to another sheet, triple spaced. This left him plenty of room for rearranging the text into something resembling English grammar.

After several minutes of review, Timmins interrupted Xander with his coffee and the book. Xander took the book absently, but carefully. He put it on the side table attached to his desk and returned to his translation. Timmins looked on for a moment then left Xander to his work. Surely, Young Master Xander wouldn't forget.

Xander opened his laptop and booted it up. He waited impatiently as it beeped and blinked. When the desktop finally, grudgingly displayed itself, he opened his calendar and made a note to look at Timmins' book in two days time. The calendar would show a popup to remind him.

After making another note to remind himself to get his paycheck, he opened his translating software. He used it for keeping notes, as it accepted Gregg. He didn't use anything else as he had real trouble reading. All he had to do was use the court steno pad he'd gotten online to enter notes in shorthand. The program converted the Gregg to English notes. It made him feel not quite so stupid. He also finally gave up on writing notes to himself in anything but Gregg; why torture himself with notes he couldn't read later?

He worked for more than three hours, finally getting the last word for word done. He stretched, reached over and picked up his coffee cup. He wrinkled his nose; it was empty, the cold dregs unappetising. He decided to get another cup. He needed to stretch his legs.

His foray into the kitchen yielded coffee, a Panini, and a slice of tiramisu.

He returned to his desk and worked as he ate and drank.

~ * ~

"Well, fucking hell on a bobsled. Son-of-a-bitching motherfucker! Crap!" Xander wanted to wad the translation up and toss it but he knew he wouldn't, couldn't. It was not good, in capital letters.

The gist of the prophecy was simple. ‘The fourth of the scourge will possess a human. The human will be the light. Without the light, the Hellmouth will open. With the light all will be saved.'

The problem with the word ‘light' was it had a tiny red diacritic mark over it. The mark indicated that the word referred to a human. In other words, it was really translated as the white or light-colored knight.

Of course, most of this was hidden in a bunch of flowery verbiage. Xander had managed to trim most of it off, leaving the gist of the prophecy. He wished he hadn't. The thing so obviously referred to Spike. One of the four vampires called the Scourge of Europe and Spike was the youngest of them. The white knight could only be one person. Angel had referred to him, Xander, as the white knight more than once. He shuddered. He had been so hoping that he could get out of this mess somehow or other. But he was really stuck now. How could he refuse when he knew that it would mean the Hellmouth opened?

He put his head down on the desk and cried. He didn't want this. Why couldn't someone else do it? ‘Why me? Why? I don't want to do this. I so don't. Someone else could. Riley Finn . . . he's a good choice. He's all rescue the world. I'm just a regular guy. Hell, I'm not even a hero. I'm just a construction worker. Fuck.'

He leaned back in his chair, swiped the tears off his face with the palm of one hand and blew his nose. Tossing the tissues into the trash, he straightened his shoulders. He rummaged in the drawer for the other scroll he'd been translating. That one was about the court of someone or other. He wondered if it would help any.

He settled in to work on translating the scroll. He realized that it was going to be a monumental task. The thing was disintegrating as he handled it.

He grimaced as he unrolled it. He had worked with it a little already, but this was bad. The closer to the end rod he got the worse it was. He decided to move it to the large table against the wall, unroll it completely and take pictures of it. He'd leave it unrolled. Rolling and unrolling it was going to make it disintegrate much more quickly.

He got the cheap digital camera he'd managed to save up for and took careful pictures of the scroll, well aware that he shouldn't have unrolled it. But who was going to preserve its content if he didn't? No one he knew of was interested in ancient demon court deportment. Except maybe Giles, but the last two times Xander had called him, he hadn't returned the message. Xander decide to give him a pass. If Giles was interested in Xander, he could do the calling.

After getting his pictures transferred into the laptop, Xander covered the scroll with a protective piece of newsprint and returned to his desk. He arranged the pictures in a queue and printed them all out then taped them together in order, checked that they matched properly and started translating again.

He didn't notice that it was after six until Spike knocked on the door frame and asked him if he'd turned librarian.

"Who, me? Not a chance. But this is fascinating. Great stuff. Really interesting. You know that scroll is over four thousand years old? I'm afraid I've ruined it. I didn't really believe that it was that old, so I just mishandled it all to hell. It's falling apart as we speak. I took pictures but . . . well . . . shit. I'm sorry, Spike."

Spike peeked under the paper then shrugged. "I'll have someone from the Order come in tomorrow and mojo it. It'll be ok. Don't worry. You finish your prophecy? Is it interesting? I haven't gotten that copy of Radell's yet. It's coming . . . well, enough of that. You coming?"

"Um . . . coming where?"

Spike swore. "I'm losin' my mind. I want you to come down to the lower levels and take a look at some walls. The minions built them but I got my doubts. Come give ‘em a look see, will ya?"

Xander knew an olive branch when it was shoved in his face. He bobbed his head and shuffled his papers into some sort of order. He glanced at the screen of his laptop, but there was nothing objectionable so he left it on.

"Sure, I'm right behind you. Show me the way. But I need to get back here fairly soon. I've still got a lot to do tonight. You want me at court, I've got a bunch to figure out. So, go already."

Spike didn't ask any questions of Xander. He didn't want to put him off. He seemed resigned to coming to court as a pet which was good enough for Spike. He wasn't one to question good luck when it showed its face.

~ * ~

Xander eyed the walls with more than misgiving, more like outright disgust. "Who built this? Whoever it was, fire them. I could do better than this drunk. Or asleep. Or even comatose. I'll have to pull it all down and do it again. Sucks. Waste of good materials." Xander wandered down the hall, poking his head into rooms and grumbling.

Spike followed him with a sour expression on his face. He'd forgotten that most of the members of his stable didn't have anyplace else to go during the day. He could hear at least ten of them in the day room right now. If Xander found out what was going on, he was going to have a fit.

So of course the next thing Xander did was stick his head into the day room.

"Oh, hello. Sorry. I'm checking that the construction is up to code. If you're living here . . ."

Xander was interrupted buy a quarrel breaking out at the computer station.

"Look, I know we all have our own laptops and all. But the net connections are still phone jacks and I need one. I have to turn in this assignment by five or it'll be late. It's way more important than whether you level up in Mortal Combat."

"Not Mortal Combat, it's Worlds Of War. And I'm about to become a commander of a brigade. So fuck off."

"I won't. You've got all night to do that and I've got exactly half an hour to get this turned in. So gimme the connection already."

Spike wandered in just at that moment and stalked over to the quarreling boys. "Ok, you two. Break it up. What is this?"

The two boys started explaining their sides of the quarrel at the same time. Spike just stood there listening. Finally, he pointed at the gamer. "I know that your game is important to you, but his education is more important. If you miss leveling up, it won't mess up the rest of your life. Turning in a late assignment will mess up his grade and his chances of getting a job. So, give over."

He turned to the other boy. "And as for you, the next time you're so close to missing a deadline, I just might let him stay online. Why did you cut it so close?"

The boy hug his head. "I overslept. I donated yesterday. I don't expect you to remember. But it's hard for me to wake up the day after . . . um . . ." He shot a glance at Xander. "You know."

Spike also glanced at Xander, who was examining a wall with a critical expression on his face.

"I see. That does make a difference. But you shouldn't put off homework until the last minute, especially when you know it's coming up for your turn. Now sit down and send that off."

Spike ambled over to Xander, who turned to him and shook his head. "If you want anything done with this mess, I'll have to tear most of it down and start again. I'd suggest moving everyone to a different floor and pulling all this down. Start fresh."

Spike pulled a face. "Can't do that, much as I wish I could. Where would I move them?"

Xander shrugged. "Don't know. Why not in with the . . ." Xander took another look around the room. "They're not demons, are they?"

Spike slowly shook his head. "Nope."

"They're human. And . . ." Xander glared at a thin girl in a lacy tank top and Daisy Dukes. The bite on her neck was still green. Spike sighed. Xander would have to see that particular girl. She bruised easily and with her pale complexion the bruise showed badly. "You're feeding off them. But . . . that chip keeps you from . . . ok, explanation, please."

Spike was astonished that Xander wasn't looking for a stake. He was, in fact, being reasonable about the whole thing.

"Well, I can't get proper nourishment from pig's blood. I need human. And after the thin rations the watcher kept me on, I need frequent feeding. If I was to drain a human, I could go two or three days without feeding. This was the best . . ." Spike hung his head then peeked up at Xander. He didn't look pleased at all. "You don't understand."

Xander held up a hand, cutting Spike off. "Look. Two questions." Spike gave a jerky nod. "Are they willing?" Spike straightened up and nodded. "Ok. Question two. Are you paying them?" Spike nodded again. "And obviously you're not killing them. I'm not even going to ask about the chip. If you aren't killing them, or hurting them, the chip obviously lets you do it. So, like I give a crap. It's gross, but whatever."

Spike nearly fell over. Xander, the quintessential Scooby, didn't care he was feeding on humans? The boy was growing up fast.

"You don't want to rake me over the coals? What's up with that?"

Xander turned from his examination of the studding and shrugged. "If they're willing, and you're paying, who am I to interfere? I would like to know what you're paying them. Just curious as to what would make someone allow a vampire to bite them."

Spike stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit it while he thought on how to explain to Xander. He didn't need to.

"Excuse me. I heard that, and I'd like to explain. My story, at least." It was the skinny girl.

Xander nodded at her politely. "Be grateful. But could you talk to me while I look some of the rest of the construction over?"

The girl shrugged negligently and trailed after Xander as he went out into the hall. "Sure, whatever. So anyway, I . . . I was a whore. Not that I really wanted to be but my Pop farmed me out since I was twelve. I figured, if I got to peddle ass, I might as well get the money myself. My boyfriend was my pimp, until he got ate. Then I was on my own. Not so good, with the vampires and the Mong demons and what all else. Then Master Timmins asked me if I was clean. When I said yes, he asked for a taste. I figured, why not? I peddle everything else. So he tasted me, off a finger, no less. When I tested clean, he made me an offer. He'd get me my dream, if it was reasonable, in exchange for letting Master Spike feed off me."

"And how's that workin' for you? Not so good, by the look of your neck."

"Actually, really well. I just bruise really easy. Other than that, not so bad as you might expect. Doesn't hurt at all. No rush either, like some guys claim. But in exchange, I'm going to art school at UC Sunnydale. I'm makin' real good grades and Master Timmins says that, when my year is up, he'll see I get an internship. I got a contract with Master Spike and everything."

At the mention of a contract, Xander gave Spike a sharp look. Spike took exception, "Bloody hell, it's for their benefit as well as mine. I'll let you read the bloody thing." The girl squeaked in dismay. "Not mad at you, am I, pet. Calm down. You go on off and . . . put some makeup on that hickey. Scoot."

The girl left with an envious look back; she knew who was who.

Xander turned to gaze at Spike for a moment. "Well, I've got to say. This job is FUBAR from the word go. I want to see every inch of this floor. I'll see what I can do about some way to keep your . . . what the hell do you call this?"

Spike goggled at Xander for a second then pulled himself together. "A stable, Xander. Ancient vampires used to have one. Now, not so easy. But I'm managing, as it's Sunnydale. So not going to bite my head off?"

"Why? No one's getting hurt. Seems to me that you're giving as good as you get. People are getting something they need. Or want. So, who am I to mix in? I've been realizing for a while that Giles has some real prejudices and I'm starting to make up my own mind about stuff. No more follow the Council Dogma guy. I'll think for myself, Thankyouverymuch. And I think . . . I really don't care. You kill one of them and I might."

Spike digested this as he followed Xander into the women's dorm. Xander made sure it was empty by knocking on the out-of-true doorframe before entering. He examined the room critically then turned to Spike.

"You have to get these people out of this mess. None of these walls are safe. I'm not sure how they fastened down the floor plates but most of these walls could come down from their own weight. So . . . um . . . hmmm."

Spike waited patiently, *Got patience when I really need it, don't I?* until Xander got his thoughts together.

"If I had a good nail gun with me. . ." Xander answered Spike's puzzled look. "I left my heavy duty one in a locker at the site. I didn't think I'd need it. So of course I do . . . I'll pick it up Friday when I go to get my check. And . . . anyway, I'll nail the foot plates . . . the two by fours that make the bottom of the walls . . . to the floor better. That'll make them stay up long enough for me to set up this floor like I did the one above. And . . ." Xander rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. "I want to see the rest of the floor before I finish my plan. Let's go."

Xander led the way into the back of the floor. The dorms and day room only took up about a third of the whole floor.

Xander wandered around the empty floor area for a while then asked Spike to get his tape measure and a notepad and pencil. Spike didn't get indignant or snarky. He just called Timmins and told him what Xander wanted.

"You're really not goin' ta get pissed off?"

Xander looked directly into Spike's eyes. "Would it do any good if I did?"

Spike shrugged a little sullenly, "Might."

Xander snorted in disbelief. "Yeah, right. But I really don't care. If you're getting them . . . what?"

Spike took the question seriously. "Education. Off drugs. Homes for the homeless. They sign a year's contract, feed me once every six weeks, like, and they get whatever we contracted for. I feed twice a day, one medical unit from one person. I'm gettin' stronger everyday. And they're not weak or anything. At least, no worse off than if they'd donated to Red Cross or sommat."

"So, why should I care? I'll be doing them a disservice, get myself spanked again and accomplish . . . what? Not getting allowed to clean up this mess. Which will leave them living in dangerous conditions. Without privacy. And . . . oh, get them wireless. That way there won't be any fighting over connections. You'll have to get a Corporate connection, but you can afford it, unless you've been playing flash."

Spike shook his head, smiling slightly at Xander's use of cant. "Got dosh. I'll have Timmins set it up."

Timmins duly arrived with tape measure, notepad and pencil. He handed them to Xander who drafted a bystander to hold the end of it. Timmins went to the side to consult with Spike over internet connections and the wonder that was Xander not freaking out over Spike's feeding arrangements.

***Vignette***

"Buffy? Buffy. I think something is . . . not good."

Buffy sighed; Willow had been going on and on about feeling off for the last day.

"Ok, if you can figure out what's up we'll go see Giles. He'll have to help you. I don't do mojo, you know?"

Willow made a face at Buffy, who had the courtesy to look a little shamed.

When Willow and Buffy finished listening to Giles, all Willow could do was cry and declare she was ‘the absolute worst friend ever in the world.'

"Yes, and how many times have I told you to check with me before doing so much as a candle lighting spell? I do hope you'll be much more careful in future. And . . ." Giles turned to Buffy. "No, you cannot stake Spike. You'll kill Xander too. We'll just have to wait until Xander decides to call us. We can't go barging in on them. We might upset the balance between them. If Spike feels in the least threatened, he might do something . . . bad to Xander. I'll see if I can slip a spy into his court."

Buffy made a face. She really wanted to rush in and grab Xander, drag him away from Spike and fix it. But after listening to Giles lecture Willow for nearly half an hour about the badness of ill-advised interference, she wasn't about to. She was just glad Giles had figured out what was going on and reversed the forget part of the spell. She felt really bad about more or less completely ignoring Xander for nearly six weeks.

Willow, meanwhile, was just hugging herself and crying. Her Xander was in big trouble and it was all her fault. She just hoped he would call her when he was over being mad.

~ *~