| ITitle: Ulterior Motives Chapter: 33/? Word count: Rating:Mature Disclaimer:Except for the few original characters, all characters in this story are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, who have kindly allowed me to play with them. These fan fictions were written for fun, not profit. However, this story does belong to me. Please don’t snitch it. Warnings:Probably a little of everything. Fighting, Spanking, Bondage, Blood, Gore, Bad Language, Parings: Spike/Xander Beta: aayesha_r (due to last minute rewriting, all remaining mistakes are mine.) Xander painted quickly, but carefully. He loved the feel of paint flowing off his brush, and now that he knew that he could do more than cover work, he really enjoyed watching something take shape. He had drawn the symbols on with a carpenter's pencil, and now all he had to do was fill in the shapes. It didn't seem more difficult than that to him. Then a little bit of stippling and some detail work, and all done. He smiled at the Horus eye he was working on. “Eh, pet, what are you doing?” Spike walked up behind Xander. He'd seen Xander and waited until he was wiping a brush before he said anything. He didn't want to startle Xander and make him ruin his work. “You know exactly what I'm doing. I'm making that hack look like... well, a hack. He swore to me that he had translated the text himself, but he didn't. He just copied stuff. This” Xander pointed to a cartouche. “is from one era, and that” he pointed to another “is from another. But he's used them in a mural together, as if they were from the same time frame. And this one is a real gem,” he pointed to another. “Beautiful work, really nice.” He smirked at Spike. “It's in English.” Spike sputtered. “I thought you had all the mistakes painted over. And that's English? How do you... um... never mind.” Xander grinned at Spike's acknowledgement of his expertise. “Well, I missed those and a couple of others. I took a photograph so I can work on fixing them up. And how do I know it's English? Because Hieroglyphics are phonetic. I bet he just went online and used one of several translation tools to translate some fairly bad English poetry into hieroglyphics, without thinking about the fact that they just change letters into phony hieroglyphics. There's actually one program that is named 'named ‘Write Like an Egyptian’. Cute, but that's about all.” Spike glanced at Xander then laughed. Xander had a smudge of bright blue paint on his forehead and another of red on his nose. Xander looked confused for a second then laughed, too. “Ok, how much paint do I have on my face?” “Not much. Here, give me that.” Spike took the chemical impregnated towel from Xander and swiped at the paint. “I'll do it. You'll just muck it up.” Xander held still while Spike cleaned off the paint. “Want to talk to you.” Xander just grunted, poked at the drying paint to test how dry it was, then started putting paint away. “You listening?” “Yeah. I just want to put this all away before it skins.” “Ok. Listen, you need to do something with your court. They're all out of hand, coming to my court, and in general being a nuisance.” “Sorry. I'll kill someone tonight; that should hold the trouble makers for a while. But seriously, I'm so busy doing all the things that you want me to, and what I want to, that I don't have time for their complaints. What should I do?” Spike sighed; he'd been afraid of this. Xander was his Consort and Companion, but the new sort of vampires they'd found in Vegas didn't seem to understand or care. “Hammer it through their heads that you're my second, no matter if you're human or not. Make it a point to explain that, if I have to come in and take over, they're not going to like it.” “Well, it would help if you hadn't taken all the smart ones for yourself. All I have are a bunch of idiots. I'm taking care of things I ought to be able to delegate to my seconds, which I don't actually have.” Spike felt a bit of guilt; he hadn't thought of that when he'd stripped Xander's court of anything with a brain. “Well, shit. Sorry, pet, but it's too late to return them. They've all sworn fealty to me. Let me think about it.” Xander just shrugged. “Ok, but I'm warning you. I don't have time to deal with all the petty shit and keep Las Vegas in line, too. It's a kind of an either/or situation. Frankly, my court is a bit of a joke, no matter how you look at it. I've got about 30 vamps, all of them newbies and low level minions, not even a fledge in the bunch. There's a few demons that have attached themselves just to be able to say they belong to The Master of Vegas.” Spike rubbed his face and sighed. “Sorry, pet.” “I'm too weak to deal with it.” “Oi! Not weak. You didn't see our leathers, did you?” Xander looked puzzled, “Leathers?” “You tore our leathers off last night.” Xander looked a bit embarrassed. “OH! Sorry. But... how?” “You've been getting about an ounce and a half of my blood every day. I've been drinking from you as well. That's more than enough to make you not only my Companion, but a Claimed as well.” Xander blinked. “Claimed? I'm just...” He made a funny sort of 'oomph' sound as Spike flattened two fingers over his lips. “Not a thrall anymore. You've gotten way above that now. Get used to it.” “Hmm. Ok. Does that mean I'm not a pet either?” “Yeah, it does. Why?” Xander smirked at Spike. “Then you have to quite calling me that. They hear you call me 'pet' and they think you mean it for real.” Neither one of them had to clarify who “they” were. Spike sighed, “Ok, I'll quit it. Don't have to like it, but I will.” Xander pulled Spike into his arms and kissed him until he was panting. And making an unbreathing vampire pant was something. “So, I'm strong, am I? What else am I?” Spike had to laugh a bit. “Handsome, smart, funny, loyal, mine. That enough?” Xander laughed softly. “Didn't say anything about ruthless, murderous, or impressive.” “No, that's me.” Xander made Spike think again. “If I'm a Claimed instead of a Thrall, I have responsibilities. Taking care of you is one of them. I take my responsibilities seriously. Understand?” Spike admitted that he did, so Xander kissed him silly, not that Spike minded. Xander finally drew back with a sigh. “I have to go. I've got training with Master Bruce then a class with Tom.” “That's going to be fun.” Xander managed to look both scornful and miserable. “Not. I'll just ...” Spike nudged Xander in the ribs. “Think positively... and none of that shite about 'I'm positive I'll fail.' Got me?” Xander nodded. “I do. Ok, I'll really give it a chance. Is Giles going to be there? Tom said something about both of them having at me.” “Don't know. When's your eye exam?” Xander grunted as he lifted the box of paints and brushes. “Don't know. That's what I've got Syl for. Here, it's not heavy, just awkward.” Spike yelled indignantly after Xander as he suddenly trotted away. “Oi! And what the hell am I supposed to do with this?” He didn't get an answer from Xander, but Timmins came out of a hidden side door and took the stuff from him. “I'll take that. I'll just put it right here where he can find it when he wants it. I was just coming to tell him to go to the dojo and then his tutoring session. Do you think he'll do well?” Spike glanced at Timmins, saw the fond look on his face, and shrugged. “Probably. He needs some encouragement, a few successes. If he gets that, he'll do well.” “I'll remember that.” . Xander nodded to Master Bruce, took off his shoes, then bowed properly. “Sir.” “Well, go change.” The master was smiling a bit. This was going to be good. Xander was stronger and faster than any non-vampire student he'd ever had. He was actually looking forward to this. Xander obeyed and came back in his Aikido hakima and gi. “I'm ready. What are we going to study today?” “Ryu Tsui Sen.” Xander blinked then gulped. This was the penultimate attack of his school. “Ok. I'm ready.” “Good.” Master Bruce started Xander out with a review of every cut he knew then went on to the defenses. They worked for three hours then Xander called a halt to the workout, exclaiming, “Damn! I'm gonna be late for my tutoring session if I don't leave right now. I'm sorry, master, but I have to go.” Master Bruce nodded his permission, took Xander's sword, and sent him on his way. Spike stepped out of the niche that he had slipped into half way through the workout. “He did well?” “Yes, Master Spike, very well. He even has enough presence of mind to feel the passing of time. He realized he was going to be late at the same time I did. He's exceptional.” “Not much gets past him.” “Very true. But if you take my advice, he's not the sort to hold court. He's a protector, an enforcer, not a governor. If you understand my meaning. And holding court is making him unhappy.” Spike considered this advice carefully. “I'll sneak in on his court. If it's that bunch of newbies doing it, I'll gut someone.” Master Bruce thought about that for a moment. “I don't think that's so. They are out of control, but if young Xander had the right mind set, there wouldn't have been trouble from the start.” Spike just gave a snarl and stalked out. Master Bruce gazed after him for a moment, chuckled, and went to clean and store the swords. . Xander made it to his room, into the shower, and through to clean clothing in record time. Timmins gave his shirt one last tug then handed him something. Xander looked at the stick-like thing in his hand and smiled; it was an old-fashioned pen holder. Without its nib, it looked like any old stick, but he knew that it was an antique. “This is really old, you sure?” Timmins nodded. “One of my masters gave it to me when he decided that I needed to learn to read and write. I'd be honored if you'd accept it.” Xander fingered the small thing then tucked it into his shirt pocket. “I'm honored that you'd think me worthy of it. I'm going to put it in my desk after my class. I better run or I'll be late and I don't want to start out on the wrong foot. Bye.” Xander hurried through the corridors, noticing that everyone pressed themselves against the walls to stay out of his way. He noticed, and thought Spike was the reason. “Hi, I'm here. Ready to learn and all that.” Tom just pointed to a large table and told Xander to take a seat at the head of it. Xander settled in place and looked around. There was a free standing white board about four feet from the end of the table which was stacked with books. There was one seat at each side of the table, and Xander noticed that both places had papers and other implements of learning scattered around, as well as cups of tea. Um... is there tea for me, too?” Giles poured a cup from the tea set on a side table and pushed it across to Xander with a slight smile. Xander took his tea and sipped it while Giles talked. He found out that today was just an overview, a chance for him to find out what they were going to be doing. He took his glasses out of the case on his belt and put them on. Giles nodded in satisfaction and Tom held out one hand. Giles handed him a quarter and they got down to business. Xander observed the pass with some amusement then announced, “As Master of Vegas, I get one percent of any gambling done in Undertown, so watch it.” Tom laughed while Giles's gobsmacked expression made Xander smirk. They turned to their tutoring, and Xander found that, while Giles was well informed, Tom was phenomenal; he seemed to have an instinctive feel for exactly how to explain things to Xander. He set Xander examples which Giles had written up, and Xander worked his way through them. They made more progress in that two hour session than Xander had made in four years of high school. Giles finally leaned back in his chair, finished his third cup of tea, and announced, “Well, I'm highly satisfied with this session. I don't know that we need as many sessions as we originally thought. Tom?” “I think I was right. Xander is going to have to do a lot of grunt work, but he has the knowledge, just not the experience. His comparative perceptions are off. The glasses will help, but... it's hard to explain in words, but it's like seeing something new. His brain will have to be trained to recognize letters again.” Xander sighed. “That won't be that hard, now that they don't change shapes on me every time I look at them.” He held up a hand. “That's the way it seems to me. I know they don't, but they look like they do. That's what the glasses are meant to help me with. They make the letters stay still. So what's the program?” “We explained that you are going to have a lot of rote work to do. Copying things, drawing shapes, that sort of thing.” Tom pointed to a ring binder that he and Giles had already made up. “That's your work book . You'll be copying things out of it. And reading comprehension. I have a list of books here; read one from column A, one from column B, and two from column C. Then you do book reports on them. And Cliff Notes won't work. I ask questions that aren't in them. That's the other thing. I'll have a list of questions on each book you choose; the answers to at least 16 out of 20 have to be in the report. And no, I'm not going to tell you the questions.” Xander sighed. “Ok, as long as Catterbury Tails isn't required. I didn't care for that the first time around. Ye Middle Englishe isn't my bag.” Giles laughed. “It’s Canterbury Tales, and I really think you'd like some parts. The best ones don't show up in books meant for high schoolers. But that's for another day.” Xander examined the workbook with a scowl; it was fairly thick, and he grumbled a bit at the fact that every page was covered with text. “How long do I have to do all this?” “As long as you need; as long as you are actually working on it every day. And we’ll go over everything you've done each afternoon before we go on. It's not as much work as it looks like. You're only supposed to copy each page once; it's the variety that's going to help, along with repetition. Anything you have trouble with, you'll copy several times. We'll know that we're getting somewhere when you can just look at a page and read it instead of having to study it.” Xander's expression brightened. “Oh, you mean when I can read English like I can kanji or Sumerian, or Fraktu. Ok.” Giles rubbed his face. “Damn it, you read Fraktu? So help me ...” He trailed off grimacing. “Um... yeah? Not that big a deal. It's like shorthand. Syllabic based symbology. Simple, not easy.” Giles just started gathering up his things, grumbling about 'moronic Council members' and 'idiot' something Xander missed out on. Xander thanked both Tom and Giles then went to his office, told Sylvia that he was available for the next three hours, to bring him something to eat, and started copying his homework. He worked on one page at a time, copying carefully, but worrying that he was just grinding the same old mistakes deeper into his nervous system. Then he had the idea of having Sylvia proof them. He called her in and told her what he wanted and she said that she was willing, as long as it wasn't cheating. Xander thought about that for a second then just told her to connect him with Mr Giles. She scurried to do that and his phone soon rang. “Giles?” “Xander. What is it?” It didn't take him long to explain his fear and his solution. “I see. That's very well thought out and a perfect solution. I'll explain to Sylvia exactly what is allowed and what is not.” “Explain to me, too. She's just loyal enough to me that she might think she's helping by letting something slide.” “Good, good. If you are copying something wrong, she's to point out the mistake and show you the correct way to do it. She is not to actually do the copying herself. Understand?” “Yeah. Thanks. See you tomorrow. Good-bye.” Giles replied the same and hung up. Xander cradled his handset against his cheek for a second more then hung up, too. He went back to his work, copying one page and having Sylvia check it over for him, then going on to the next. When he looked at his watch, a very expensive present from Spike, he realized that his three scheduled hours were up and that he was about a quarter of the way through the book. “Sylvia, is there anything on the docket for today?” “A couple of what Master Spike calls ‘whiney shits’, and one for real problem. What do you want to do? Shall I have them convene a court?” Xander thought about that for a second. “No, just send them in here. I've got an idea. I'll have a combination of the old master's submit a complaint form and Spike's kill 'em before they get out of hand style. What do you think?” Sylvia allowed that she had no thoughts on the matter at all and said that she might have to get a vacuum sweeper. She removed his lunch tray when she left. . Xander looked up from a translation about fifteen minutes after he'd given Sylvia the go-ahead. “Yes?” “Um... I... well, you see, it's like this.” The vampire paused a moment and gave Xander that arrogant, doubtful look that made Xander want to stake him. “I don't have time to mess around with you, nor the patience to coax whatever is on your tiny mind out of your mouth. Get on with it.” “But... you're not even a vampire, what gives you the right to judge us?” The vampire was very young, both in true age and turned, his expression was one of mixed frustration and fury. “In two words... Spike. Said. Now get on with this or I'll call in the next idiot and you can deal yourself.” This explanation seemed to soothe the boy’s ire so he started in on a convoluted explanation of why the guy who had a TV shouldn't have one if he couldn't. Xander held up a hand again. “Did he steal it from you?” “Um... no.” “He got it for himself?” “Yeah... but... but.” “Stop. If he acquired it for himself, pays for the hook up, and doesn't bother anyone by playing it too loud, there's nothing I'm going to do about it. Nor is anyone else. If you think otherwise, get over it.” “But there's no TV in the common room. Why should he have one when no one else does?” Xander grimaced, now they were getting to the crux of the matter. “Why isn't there a TV in the common room now? There was one the last time I was there.” “Someone broke it.” The vampire squirmed in his chair. “Ah-ha! See, you need to go after whoever broke it. Make them replace it. If they're too high above you in rank, send them to me. Got me?” A dawning look of comprehension and respect crossed the boys face then he nodded. “If someone was to sort of write a name on something and it kinda found its way into someone else's hand, what would you do?” “Someone, whose name showed up on a paper, would be buying a new TV for the common room.” He shuffled his feet a bit. “What if they didn't have any money?” “I'll take it out in trade. Of one kind or another. That all?” “Um... yeah. Thanks, Boss.” He shuffled out the door, mumbling to himself. Xander sighed and realized that he actually had a second of sympathy for Principal Snyder, well, maybe a split second. The other whiner turned out to be another of those 'he has, I want' sorts. Xander listened to him for a moment then sent him away with what Spike called a flea in his ear, a not so gentle lecture on the way the world was. The third petitioner was a sour-faced woman who demanded to know who was going to clean up after some demon who made a nuisance of himself by trashing the common room on a regular basis, dropping beer cans and chip bags everywhere. Xander handled this one more easily than anyone would have thought. “Can you whip him?” “Excuse me, young... master?” She gave him a indignant look. “Simple question, can you whip him? Doesn't seem complicated to me. Either yes, or no. And don't tell me fighting isn't lady-like, I don't care. Um... also, what did you do before you were turned? Just curious, you can politely tell me to MYOB.” The lady shifted uncomfortably in her seat for a moment. “I was a teacher. I taught calculus at a private school.” “I see. Well, go... teach that pig some manners. And you're in charge of the dorms from now on. If staking a few of the worst complainers doesn't do any good, come back to me.” She gave a self-satisfied little nod then asked, “Would you mind putting that in writing? I think that would help a lot.” Xander just pulled a piece of his letterhead out of a drawer, put on his glasses, and carefully wrote the note. “That do?” She looked at it, folded it carefully and tucked it into her purse. “I do believe so. And... you need to work on your penmanship; it's terrible.” Xander started laughing, and laughed her right out the door. . Several days went by in a whirl of activities. Xander took music lessons once a week from Giles and used that hour to practice the rest of the time. Once, Spike came to join him in the music room and play the clavichord along with Xander. He enjoyed that a great deal and promised Spike a surprise soon. He worked out with both Yakov and Master Bruce, brutal workouts that left him panting and weary. He realized that he was learning more than anyone, especially he himself, could have thought. He basked in Master Bruce’s approval while wondering how earning it continued to be possible. The tutoring sessions went from daily to three times a week on the second day. That cut Xander enough slack time that he could do more woodworking than he originally had on his schedule, another pleasure. And his gardens were coming along so well, all Xander had to do was point and express a wish, and he had it. It didn't hurt that he was as willing as ever to dive in and do it himself. With all the things he had to do, Xander's days passed quickly. But he hadn't forgotten his promise to Spike to give him a surprise. It arrived a bit later than Xander had expected, but the spells had taken longer than the witch had thought they would. . “Spike, come here.” Xander's crooning tone of voice made Spike grin. “I have a little pressie for you.” “A pressie? For me? Oh, how nice.” Spike went into Xander's arms happily. He had worried a bit about his promise, but Xander had never done anything that hurt or humiliated him and the sex was great. Xander had also proven that he had a kink, sex in unexpected places. “I'm glad you think so. Drop your pants and bend over the desk; I don't want to hurt you.” Spike blinked for a second then laughed, dropped his jeans and bent over the desk. “You know that always confuses me a bit. Brits say, 'Drop trou.' or ‘Trousers’. Pants are what you wear under trousers.” Xander laughed a bit. “If you wear them at all. Which you don't.” Spike felt Xander's fingers stroking and stretching him, just enough to open him a bit. “You going to fuck me over the desk, you kinky bastard?” He grinned over his shoulder at Xander. “No. By the time I'm done with you, you'll wish I would. Now. I'm going to put this in you and you can't let on it's there. If you do, no sex. Got me?” As he spoke Xander eased something into Spike. “Ok. No letting on that something's up there, or that anything is out of the ordinary. Got it. If I'm good, you going to see to me proper?” “Yes, I'll see to you good and proper. And stop that.” Spike gave Xander a puzzled glance. “Stop what?” “Making me speak all British and stuffy. Prat.” Spike fell onto the desk top, laughing like a loon. He didn't think much about the egg shaped object lodged in him, the small stem that kept it from slipping all the way in him wasn't even noticeable. . Spike was sitting at his desk, reading a contract, when the egg activated for the first time. It started out as a gentle vibration which made Spike smirk. The stem swelled just a bit as well, making Spike aware that it was there. He went back to his contract with a small smile on his face. Then next time the egg activated, Spike was walking down a corridor on the way to the gardens. It buzzed a bit harder, and the stem swelled just a bit more. Spike didn't break stride although his smirk appeared again. Xander was working in his shop, carefully crafting an inlay for a table top. He put aside his tools when Spike said he wanted to talk to him. “Ok, what's up?” Spike just grinned. “I just wanted to tell you I like my pressie.” Xander stood up and sauntered over to Spike. “Good. I'm glad you like it. You might not in a while. Depends on how good you are at denial.” “Not just a river in Egypt. I'm fair at it. Depends on how good the reward is.” Xander just grinned, an evil, sparkly-eyed thing that made Spike laugh out loud. “I'm thinking you're practicing to be a big bad yourself.” “No, I'm just a little bad.” Xander kissed Spike hard enough that he tasted blood then went back to his inlay. Spike was going to say more, but the egg activated again, vibrating against his prostate with a thrumming feeling that made him suppress a jump. The stem swelled noticeably this time. He was prevented from noticing Xander's pleased smirk by a knock on the door frame. “Excuse me. Can I come in?” The vampire was a young looking Hispanic who introduced himself as Jesus Gonzales. Xander told him to come in a find a place to sit. Spike stayed long enough to find out that Jesus wanted to talk to Xander then left, adjusting his tight jeans as he went. Xander just turned to talk to Jesus. As the day went on the activations became stronger then started switching between a roaring vibration and thick stem that left Spike clenching his fists and shuddering to a gentle buzz that he barely felt. By the time he came in for supper, he was nearly insane with need and could hardly hide what was going on. Xander sat down to supper with a bland expression on his face. Spike tried to match it, but failed; all he could do was gaze pleadingly at Xander. He knew better than to ask. “If you're really good, I'll be happy to help you with your little problem.” Spike squirmed a bit then snarled, “It's not a little problem. Damn it, you're evil, pet.” “And you enjoy it, don't you?” Xander raised an eye brow at Spike's suddenly coy glance. “Yeah, I do. But this thing is fiendish; it's all I can do not to... break the rules.” The egg went off, and it really was all Spike could do not to do something he shouldn't. “Damn it!” Xander took pity on Spike and jerked his head. “Bedroom, now.” Spike never noticed Timmins standing in the kitchen, laughing his head off. Xander followed Spike into the bedroom and caught him around the waist as soon as he kicked the door shut. “On the bed, now. On your knees and spread 'em.” Spike stripped off his clothing without being told, dropping everything in a trail from the door on over. He positioned himself as he was ordered to and waited. He didn't wait long. Xander had been stripping along with Spike and climbed onto the bed behind him. “You ready?” “Ready as I'll ever be.” Spike relaxed, thinking Xander was going to remove the egg; he didn't. Instead it roared into life and Spike nearly fell onto his face. Xander wrapped one arm around his waist and held onto him to keep him from going down flat. Spike moaned softly then vamped. That was what Xander had been waiting for, and when Spike was in full vampire form, he pulled the egg out and slid into Spike. The egg had provided a thin film of constant lubrication to avoid irritating delicate tissues, and as Xander pulled it, he signaled it to let out a gush of lube. He tossed the egg over his shoulder and rammed into Spike completely, burying himself in one stroke. Spike yelled out and surged backwards. Xander quickly established a punishing rhythm that ratcheted Spike toward ecstasy at once. They rocked on the bed, their furious rhythm causing the headboard to slam against the wall, shaking a picture off its mounting. Xander let all his weight settle onto Spike, trusting him to maintain their rhythm, and reached under Spike to grasp his cock and strip a violent orgasm from him. His own was only a second later. “Oh, my god.” Xander rolled over and flopped off Spike. “I'm dead.” “I'm undead, pleased ta meetcha.” Spike panted for a few seconds as Xander stifled his laughter. “Go ahead an' laugh. Evil, you're evil, that's what you are.” “Told you, I'm studying to be the Little Bad. I nearly didn't make it. I thought I'd explode before noon.” Spike rolled his eyes to look at Xander out of the corners. “What are you on about?” Xander sighed, and rolled to one side to present his back to Spike. “Get that out of me will you?” That was when Spike realized that Xander was wearing an identical egg. . The next morning Xander got up and wandered into the bathroom, the only thing on his mind, brushing his teeth. He finished up his business and washed his hands. As he was drying them, he felt cool arms encircle him. “Mornin', love. You awake?” Xander just went, “Mmmmm?” and snuggled back against Spike. “That was brilliant. What do you have planned next?” Xander rubbed his stubbled cheek against Spike's. “Nothing. Yesterday was Day 30.” Spike actually looked disappointed. “You sure?” Xander nodded, gazing at his lonely reflection in the mirror. “Yeah, I had Sylvia keep track.” “Damn.” Xander shrugged, eyes twinkling in the mirror. “That just means the ball’s in your court again. Maybe we should reinstate the shows?” Spike started to shake his head then realized that Xander couldn't see him. He turned Xander around and smiled at him. “Ok, no more shows. You're too high up on the ladder for that shit now. Unless you want to make the shows martial arts exhibitions.” Xander thought about that for a moment. “Not a bad idea. The court needs to know what I can do. And what I will do.” “I'll think of something for... Friday?” Spike made the last word a question. Xander mentally reviewed his schedule then nodded. “Fine. What shall I do?” “Talk to Master Bruce about that. I have no idea what would make a good show.” Spike gave Xander a quick kiss and left him to his ablutions. . Xander got through breakfast just in time to be called to Spike's office. He sent a fledge to tell Master Bruce and Yakov that he was going to be late, then hurried to Spike’s office to see what the problem was. “Xander, take a look at this.” Spike handed Xander a letter. Xander read it and shrugged. “Not that much of a problem, is it? Angel wants us to meet a representative of a new government agency. Trust issues?” He snorted softly.” And he says right here that the agent knows that he's out on a limb; we'll kill him if we can't reach an agreement. I think we might have to move headquarters if we don't reach that agreement, but other than that, I don't really see a problem. Throwaway agents, though, that does bother me some.” Spike rubbed his face then sat down on the edge of his desk. “That's what bothers me about this letter, the fact that this agency thinks that sacrificing a man isn't a big thing. What's to say that they won't decide that sacrificing all of us isn't a good idea? See?” Xander nodded. “Yeah, this whole thing makes me really nervous. So, what do you want to do?” “Not really sure; first thing we do is meet this guy and see how he feels.” “Ok. Good so far, but what do we do if he feels off?” “Thinking about that one.” Spike frowned in thought and Xander stayed quiet, doing some thinking of his own. Xander had a few thoughts of his own like, if Angel trusted this guy, it was possible that he was truly trustworthy. Angel wouldn't do anything to truly hurt either one of them; even if Xander didn't like Angel, he did trust him, mostly. He began in a thoughtful voice, “I think we need to... we can't kill this guy, no matter what. It's not right, in a big ol' bad vibes way.” Spike pulled at his lower lip for a second. “You're right, on several levels. I establish myself as someone who will take care of... small fry, no matter who they belong to, and I really increase my face. If you know what I mean?” Xander nodded, his martial arts had made him very aware of 'face' and its importance in politics, especially vampire politics. “I do. I think we just need to hear the guy out then decide what we mean to do if we can't reach an agreement with his people. I'm sure he has parameters within which he can bargain for whatever it is they want.” “Yes, but I'm inclined to refuse, just on general principles.” “Cut off nose to spite face, anyone?” Xander shook his head at Spike. Spike's sour tone made Xander snicker when he snarled. “No, but I don't like dealing with people more heartless than I am. Now go see Master Bruce and Yakov while I draft my reply.” Xander hugged Spike, who returned the favor, then went out the door, shaking his head at Sylvia's raised eyebrow. |
| Previous | Main Index |