| Thanks to cluegirl, yohjideranged, and bumpkin for the help with the clubs . Bud parked in the parking garage and announced flatly, “Sorry, Boss, but there's no way for me to drive you from one club to another. The traffic is awful.” Spike pitched his cigarette out the window then agreed, “Awful doesn't begin to describe it.” Bud sighed and asked, “Should I stay with the SUV?” This question wasn't as off base as it seemed. It wasn't that unusual for people to come back to find their vehicle either gone or stripped down to the frame. “No, I'd rather you come with. Miss Tara needs an escort and if the SUV gets stripped or something....” Spike shrugged. “I'll just tell Master Robinson, and he'll replace it. Come on.” So they headed out into the French Quarter. Since the parking garage was at one end of the tourist section of Bourbon Street, they just walked out the door and started down one side of the street. Spike knew where the club he wanted to visit was and grumbled a bit; it was nearly four blocks. Xander just thumped his shoulder and told him cheerfully to 'man up'. During the walk, Tara stayed close to Bud, but Xander ranged from one side of the street to the other. He looked in windows and slipped into a store or two. He came back from one of his forays to ask, “Where are we going first?” Tara jumped in with, “Can we see Preservation House?” Spike checked the address then said, “Up this way at St. Peter's Street. But it's no use this late; the place will be packed and we'll never get inside. Unless you want to pull rank.” Tara looked disappointed, but shook her head. “We don't need the attention.” She looked around, confused, “Is every building pink?” Spike laughed, “Just about. We can cut through this alley and stand outside for a bit. Would you like that?” Tara thought for a moment. “I really just want to hear the music.” Spike eased Xander between Tara and a group of drunken college boys. Bud moved to back him up. After glancing around, Xander noted that Pat O’Brien’s was right across the street from Preservation Hall. Then he saw something that made him snicker. “Reverend Zombie's House of Voodoo, you're kidding me, right?” Tara smiled, “Madame Marie LeVeau’s House. No, not kidding. But it's mainly a tourist trap now. Too bad.” Spike shook his head. “Mojo is not on my list tonight. It's really about visiting some of the old places I went to last time I was here.” “With Drusilla.” Xander couldn't keep a touch of jealousy out of his voice. “Naw, she dumped me for about six years around 1840. I came here because I don't like Galveston. I used to hang around in the Old Absinthe House and the Napoleon House. The Bombay Club in the Prince Conti Hotel was also a favorite, but not by that name. And Lafitte's Tavern wasn't too bad. Those are the places I want to visit. We'll just walk around and rubberneck, unless someone has a better idea?” The consensus was that walking was a good idea. No one had worn uncomfortable shoes, not even Tara, so that was what they did. Spike settled the route as he was familiar with the area, even if the familiarity was some 150 years old. Things hadn't changed all that much. Spike looked around again to orient himself. “Ok, we'll backtrack a bit as I want to wind up at Lafitte's. First... um... Napoleon House. I think you'll all like it. It's a bit posh, but the ambiance is something. Then the Absinthe House, just for a while, very artsy-fartsy in my day. But the absinthe was to die for, literally in some cases. They changed the name a while ago, think it's like Tony Moran's or sommat. Then the Bombay Club, they've got a hundred and some different kinds of martini. We'll be underground before dawn.” So they turned back and walked back down Bourbon Street to Napoleon House. Bud hung back a bit and attracted Xander's attention. Xander dropped back to walk beside him while Spike regaled Tara with stories of the different places they walked past. “How bad is this going to get?” Xander shrugged. “Not sure. Depends on how bad he was way back then. The worse he felt then the worse it's going to be now. Just stay on your toes.” “Ok, gotcha.” Bud sighed; sometimes it was a real bitch being honor bound to a vampire. Tara was thrilled with the old hotel and dragged a long suffering Bud into as much of it as she could. Xander and Spike settled in the courtyard with a Pimm's Cup and waited for the twosome to come back. It didn't take long for them to return, Tara smiling and chattering about all the wonderful points of the decor, Bud doing his best not to look bored out of his mind. Spike got up and ambled off, Xander at his heels. He'd seen what he wanted to, and now he wanted to move on. He was already beginning to regret this little trip down memory lane. The next stop was the Absinthe House. They peeked into the Bistro, but one look told all of them that it was too grand and fussy for their mood although they admired the décor which was authentic to the age of the structure, the 1807 fireplace being a set piece. Spike remarked that it was all 'period', and he wasn't thrilled with that particular style the first time around. They went upstairs to Tony Moran's and glanced around, but when a waiter came to seat them Spike just shook his head and said, “Came to show the lady the bar. That's Ok, yeah?” The waiter just smiled and nodded. “Lots of people come just for that. If you want to leave your dollar, I'll be happy to put them up. We don't let customers do it themselves anymore, too many drunks fell. Take your time and look around; just please don't disturb the diners.” Spike nodded. “Lady probably will want to leave a dollar. We'll leave it with the bar keep. Thanks.” Tara signed a dollar that she begged off Xander and gave it to the bartender who ostentatiously tucked it into a box behind the bar, making sure that they saw him do so. Tara blinked then glanced at Spike who just mouthed, 'explain later'. Xander demanded to go to Lafitte's bar downstairs for a Frappe. Spike made a face, but agreed. He knew that regular doses of his blood had made Xander astonishingly hard headed so mixing his drinks wasn't going to be a problem. Bud, being a demon, no matter that he looked human enough, metabolized alcohol of any kind as fast as Spike did. So they settled at a table and watched as the bartender mixed their drinks. The yellow-green color made Spike snicker, but Tara gave her drink a doubtful drink. After one dainty sip she shuddered and exclaimed, “Ugh! Licorice, I don't like licorice. That's awful.” Spike, who'd already finished his drink, just reached over and snagged it. “Don't worry, pet. I'll drink it. Reminds me of the old absinthe, can't get that in the US anymore.” Xander blinked, “You mean that this isn't a real absinthe frappe? What's in it then?” Spike took a sip and rolled it around in his mouth. From the taste of it, Anisette, Herbsaint, and a bit of sugar, soda water, ice. Dump it all in a pitcher, muddle and strain. Frappe. It's as real as a heart attack. This recipe is the Absinthe House signature drink. Not bad actually.” Tara watched as all three 'men' drank their drinks; she'd decided that she wasn't drinking anything else alcoholic that night. So far her taste of Pimm's Cup had been disappointing, and the Frappe downright disgusting. She was idly wishing for a soda when a voice behind her drawled, “Well, well, if it isn't... what is it now?... Spike? Yes, that's it. So much more... sibilant than William the Bloody, but not as descriptive. What have you been doing with yourself lately, and who is this yummy looking bint?” Spike just glanced at the vampire, a mocking look that belittled him easily. “Yeah, it's Spike now. Became Master of California and the Hellmouth. And she's; one, not a bint, and two, my business. As to yummy, wouldn't try, if I was you. Don't need to run afoul of me, the Enforcer, and that one.” He indicated first Xander then Bud. “Like your suit. Last decade's Armani, isn't it? Finances on the ebb again? Always were a sucker for a hand of whist, weren't you?” The nameless vampire hissed and stalked away. Tara made with the big eyes and whispered, “Who was that?” Spike didn't bother to keep his voice down when he replied, “That stupid sod is Lucius St Cloud. Lost his family fortune at whist in the late 1700's and tried to commit suicide. Got vamped instead. Idiot. Annoying, and stupid. The only reason he's still alive, or undead, is pure luck, and Remy fell for his golden hair and blue eyes. Twit.” He didn't bother to explain who Remy was, and no one felt interested enough to inquire. Xander finished his drink and announced, “I'm bored; let's move on. Ok?” Spike just grinned, announced, “That's my boy,” and headed for the door. Tara and Bud had a bit of a scramble to keep up, but Tara poked Bud in the ribs and snickered. Bud noticed what she was laughing about and smiled. Xander was walking, or rather strutting, half a step behind Spike and to his left. If you didn't know better, you'd think they were related. They stood alike, walked alike, and mirrored each other without thought. Bud hugged Tara then asked, “Where to now? The Bom... something?” “Bombay Club. Martinis.” Xander tossed over his shoulder. Spike just mumbled, “Damn straight.” and led the way out of the building. Xander wondered what Spike was searching for because, obviously, he was. And not finding it, if his growing sour mood was any indication. They walked side-by-side now, crowding people off the sidewalk. Spike's jittery, nervous behavior was making them nervous, too. He was going to snap, Xander feared, and there was going to be a fight. Xander and Bud knew this as sure as breathing. Tara wasn't sure what was going on, but she knew she didn't like it. But she knew that people were stepping into the street to avoid a small blond tornado in a black coat. They reached the Bombay Club with little trouble, the short jaunt down the side street leading them away from the noise and confusion of Bourbon Street into a much quieter area. Tara sighed her relief; she wasn't comfortable in crowds even with Bud by her side. They entered the club with its British Colonial-style furnishings and elegant air, Spike just sighed. “I remember this. It really hasn't changed very much. Still looks like a gentlemen's club. One of those ones that the remittance men all haunted. But they make good drinks. In the old days it was all wine, mulled and what not, or a mint julep, rum, mulled, buttered, or straight. Nothing as fancy as this. All this British Wallah decor, Dru would have hated it, but I...” Spike grinned unabashed. “I admit that I like it. Comfortable, that's what it is.” As Spike was speaking, they made their way to the table/booth at the end of the bar. Spike settled in on the bench seat against the wall and Xander slid into the other side. Tara took the seat with her back to the room and Bud took the one on the end nearest Spike; that left one more seat open. The waiter came over and asked what they'd like to drink. Xander decided on a sour-apple martini, at which Spike grimaced. Bud asked for a 007, and Tara wanted a crantini. Spike just shrugged and said, “Stolnycha, frozen, twist of lemon, and just yell vermouth at it.” Bud turned to Tara. “Sweet, I thought you weren't going to drink any more.” “Changed my mind. This place is nice and I feel more comfortable.” Tara's sweet smile got returns from the three men, and they settled in for a quiet drink or two. The waiter returned with their drinks and Xander promptly ate his apple slice while Tara distastefully picked the candied orange out of hers. She just snorted and remarked, “I thought it was supposed to be just orange, not candied.” Bud glanced around for the waiter. “It's Ok, sweetie, I just picked it out. My drink is fine. Don't fuss.” Bud smiled at her. “That's my job. Fussing and protecting.” Spike made a gagging noise which got him a poke in the ribs from Xander. “Shut it, you.” Spike smirked at Xander who pouted back. Tara poked Bud who just patted her hand and winked. They finished their drinks, taking their time and enjoying the atmosphere of the Bombay Club. Their conversation drifted from one topic to another, led by a still jittery Spike. Xander kept touching him on the arm, the shoulder, the thigh, trying to calm him. It was helping, but not much. Xander, Bud and Tara were all worried about him. Something was going on with him that no one could figure out. He shouldn't be this nervous about a visit to the French Quarter. Spike had all he could do to avoid nervously jerking one leg. He'd been broken of the habit before it really got started; his mother would just pat his thigh and shake her head at him. Then Angelus had finished the job with a fierce beating the one time he'd forgotten. Now, his nerves were on edge so badly that he wanted to scream. Xander stood up, tossed some money on the table and announced, “Ok, I'm done with this crap. Where the hell do you really want to go, Spike? I'm tired of feeling you twanging like a bow string.” Spike sighed and stood up, too. “Sorry, luv, I'm just... I need to go into Under-New Orleans, and I know there's going to be a problem. I don't want to take Miss Tara down, but I think we might need Bud. And her, too. It's settin' my nerves on edge.” Bud shrugged. “Missy? You wanna go or stay?” Tara bit at her lip for a moment. “I think I better not. If I'd known you might need magic, I wouldn't have had anything to drink. Mojo and booze? Very unmixy things. I'll catch a cab back to the hotel.” Bud considered this for a moment. “I think that's a good idea. If we need you we'll send for you.” He turned to Spike. “I'd like to wait until she's actually in the cab.” Spike nodded. “Fine. I think I'll get the concierge to call one.” He turned, realized that Xander wasn't behind him and hissed softly. Before he could really get started Xander walked back to the group. “I just called a cab for Tara. We need her, we can send for her. Let's wait outside for it. Ok?” He flicked his gaze from a snickering Spike to a giggling Tara. “Ok, what?” His flat tone made Bud snort. Tara answered, “You and Spike are starting to think alike.” “Scary thought.” Xander shook his head. “Cab should be here fairly quickly, we better get outside.” They went out and stood on the curb until the cab pulled up. The doorman hurried to open the door for Tara, but some suit tried to bull his way in front of her. He found himself facing a smiling Xander. “Sorry, buddy, that cab is for the lady.” Xander took a step forward. “I don't see her name on it. Step aside.” He tried to shove around Xander and wound up with Spike in his face. “Man said the cab was for the lady.” Spike’s dress and mild tone of voice fooled the man into making the worst mistake of his life. He laid hands on Spike; putting his hand on Spike's shoulder, he tried to push him away. Pushing a vampire is somewhat like pushing a brick wall so this did nothing but annoy both Spike and Xander. This got the nuisance lifted by both arms, Xander on one side and Spike on the other, and more or less tossed out of the way. Bud calmly waived the doorman away and helped Tara into the cab himself. He gave her a quick kiss, shut the door, and banged on the top of the cab. It pulled away as the three waved. “Well, that was interesting. When did manners get so bad?” Xander snorted at Spike. “This from the vampire that ate the last waiter that was rude to him.” “Did not!” Spike was all indignation. “He was much too salty for me. Just bit him a little.” Xander glanced around for their annoying 'friend', but couldn't see him, nor the doorman. He made a mental note to send a tip to the man for keeping the cops out of the picture. . Xander put his hand on Bud's shoulder. “You Ok?” Bud nodded. “Yeah, I actually feel better now than I did half an hour ago.” Xander sighed. “That was a long walk. I never thought a street could manage to hold that many pedestrians, trucks, cars, and whatever else, without an accident. Incredible.” Bud nodded to Spike. “He's getting worse instead of better. What's going on with him?” Xander shook his head then grumbled, “I don't know. Be ready for anything. He's looking for something or someone. Some sign maybe. Just... I don't know... be ready.” “Ok. Wonder if the Old One is still around? If she is, we might be able to get her to figure it out. Not like Spike to be this agitated and not kill something.” Xander bit at his lip for a moment. “Can't kill anything. Not his territory. May be what's got him on edge.” Bud just grunted, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. They were standing in front of Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop which was actually now a bar. The sign on the wall stated that it had been established in 1772 as a smithy and converted into a tavern in the 1840's. Spike looked at the front of the inconspicuous building for a few moments then motioned for them to follow as he headed for the door. Xander glanced around as the soothing sounds of mellow jazz drifted from the front, played by a live pianist. The bar was old, worn, and a bit frayed around the edges. It was also charming, low key, and quite pleasant. The dim lighting was all provided by candles with a few lamps in the corners of the bar and one at the top of a flight of stairs that was nearly hidden in the back. Spike nodded to the bartender and made a bee line for those stairs. Bud and Xander trooped along behind him, glancing around as they went. Xander was a bit sad that they wouldn't get to stay awhile to listen to the music. At the bottom of the steps, the tunnel led away from the bar and farther into the earth. Xander sniffed then wrinkled his nose. The place smelled of sewers. “Sewers! I hate sewers.” Bud wrinkled his nose, too. Spike shushed them impatiently and strode into the darkness. Xander and Bud followed, walking shoulder to shoulder. Xander's hands itched for the feel of the haft of his gladius. It didn't take them long to reach gates that completely blocked the tunnel. The guard took one look at Spike, did a double take then opened the small sally port without a word. Spike strode through it, ignoring the guard completely. Xander glanced at him then stepped through the door, too. Bud made a face and followed. Maybe now they'd find out what was wrong with Spike. And maybe not. They entered a near duplicate of Lafitte's except more than half of the clientele was demon. Xander sighed. He was not looking forward to this; the back of his neck was really crawling now. Spike wove his way through the packed room with ease. Demons moved out of his way like wheat before a scythe. Xander and Bud followed close behind, not realizing that their presence was part of the reason for the ease of their passing. Demons took one look at Spike, a high master vampire backed by his two scowling bodyguards, and parted like the Red Sea. Xander and Bud's fearsome reputations had preceded them. They eased into the back and down another flight of stairs into a lower level. This level was still finished nicely with polished walls and smooth, even floors. The corridor that disappeared into the distance was lined with doors, spaced unevenly down its length on both sides. Xander looked at one nearby and realized that the doors opened into shops, clubs, and other public places. Each door had a sign on or over it with a name on it. Spike strode along the corridor, glancing at door after door. They were nearly to the end of the corridor before he found what he was looking for. A quick tap on the door elicited a “Come in.” Spike turned to Xander and Bud. “Wait here. It won't take long.” Spike opened the door and entered the darkened room. She was there, the Old One, the oldest vampire on the American continent. She sat in a simple straight-backed chair behind a round table looking like the gypsy she was. “Ah, yes, William. I knew you would come. Just not when.” She watched him carefully for a few moments. “You are unhappy, so you have come to me again.” Spike waited under the Old One's gaze. The vampire had to be all of 800 years old, probably much older, but she hadn't endured the changes that many very old vampires did. Changes that made them into monsters even when they hadn't 'changed'. She still looked like a girl of 18 or so, just as she had in life. Spike wondered why. “You wonder why I look as I do.” She smiled a bit flirtatiously. “Don't deny it.” She looked at Spike for a moment more. “I see that you do not. That is good. I am as I am because I still have my soul and also, I don't kill. It is the greed and killing that allow the demon to come to the fore and change your appearance. I think the killing is more important than the soul. We do not, as so many poets claim, love with our soul or our heart. We love with our brain. And you love. I can see it.” Spike shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, I do. That's what I've come for. I love and he's mine. But there's a thrall spell on him, cast by an inexperienced, but very powerful, witch. I want it removed. I want him... free.” The Old One raised an eyebrow at this. “If something were to happen to me, one of my seconds would see that he was safe. But right now, he'll die. I don't want that.” “And so you wish to free him from the spell? That is good. Drink tea with me.” Spike started to refuse, but realized that her request wasn't an invitation, but a command. He accepted the tea with the best grace he could. When he was finished the Old One held out her hand for his cup. Spike sighed and handed it over; he should have known she would read the leaves for him, he just hoped she didn't drag out the cards, or worse yet runes. “Yes, I know you consider this all foolishness, but humor me. And no runes or cards, I promise.” She twinkled at him, fluttering her eyelashes and smiling slyly then returned to the leaves. “Well, I see. You don't have to worry about the thrall. I see it is fading. You should let it fade naturally, as poorly cast magic usually does.” She nodded decisively. “I would like to meet your man.” Spike just stood up, trying very hard to keep any expression off his face. The thrall was fading? He felt a relief he hadn't known he would. Xander would be safe if something happened to him. He got up and walked to the door, opened it, and called Xander into the room. Xander entered and stood just inside the door waiting for Spike to tell him what to do. “Come sit at my side, lovely.” The Old One patted a chair beside her. Xander glanced at Spike who nodded. He settled in the indicated chair and waited. “Hummmm. Yes, you smell of cinnamon, and salt. Tea.” She handed Xander a cup which he gulped quickly. Spike sighed, that was no way to treat good tea, but Xander was obviously nervous. The Old One took his cup and looked at it. “Yes, yes, very good. You have a wonderful future in store for you. Your loyalty will be greatly rewarded.” Xander nodded, his puzzlement evident. “Ok, that's good. Thanks.” This was greeted with a light laugh that Xander couldn't help but echo. “Yes, it is good. I see a long life and much happiness for you. You are fierce and brave, loyal and funny. High Master Spike needs all these things very much. You will provide them. In return ...” She gave a mysterious smile. “He will grant you many things. Your heart's desire most of all. Now, go. I am tired.” She waived Xander away with another smile. Spike gathered Xander up and towed him to the door; he turned and started to thank the seer when she spoke again. “Your little Miss Tara is a perfect seer; you didn't need to come to me. I am glad to see you again however, to give you better news than the last time. Cherish him. Go.” So they went. Spike walked out the door with Xander on his heels. Bud joined up, and they headed back the way they came. Xander sighed. “What was that all about?” Spike just shrugged; he wasn't about to explain. Xander eyed him for a minute then dropped the subject, turning to something that was more pressing to him. “I really wanted to listen to some good jazz before we left New Orleans. When do we head out?” Spike shrugged again. “I did what I came to do. I saw all the old places. Talked to the pretty gypsy. We need to leave soon so that we don't wear out our welcome. Day after tomorrow, maybe.” Bud stopped dead in the corridor. “Listen. Music.” Spike stopped, too. “I hear it. It's coming from... there.” Spike pointed to a door. “Want to go in and see?” Xander nodded. “Yeah, sounds good to me. Really good.” Bud tapped on the door which opened a crack at once. “Members only?” Bud’s question was answered when the door opened fully to allow them entry. “Door charge is $15 per.” The large orange demon held out a hand the size of a plate. Bud just handed over a fifty and told it to keep the change. The music was just loud enough; they could talk over it, but still not disturb others, as long as they kept their voices down. Surprisingly, Spike was careful to keep his low. They took a moment to survey the club. It was small, cluttered with small round tables, each with four chairs and crowded to the max. A few chairs were still available but only because the help was adding tables as customers entered. The dance floor was even taken up with seating. It didn't take them long to be directed to seats against one wall, near the middle. Spike watched as Xander sat, he lounged in the graceful, self-confident posture of a powerful man who knew what he was capable of and was comfortable with it. Spike couldn't suppress his smirk. “What's that for?” Xander eyed Spike for a second then turned back to the music. Spike took a seat behind Xander with his back to the wall. He didn't care that he couldn't see the stage; one jazz band looked very like another, unless you were a horn and tentacle counter. He was happy that they'd managed to find some jazz for Xander and that was that. They listened through one set and part way into the next before anything happened. Then some new customer took exception to a 'pet' sitting on the furniture. He was drunk, which was his only excuse, but he put his hands on Xander. Spike hissed softly, drawing back one hand to strike at the demon. He was too late to prevent it from dragging Xander out of his chair. Xander stumbled when the demon let go of him, but just a bit. He smoothly recovered his balance and dropped into a defensive stance and prepared to defend himself. He didn't need to; Spike roared like a scalded tiger and jumped the demon. “No one touches him!” Xander wisely got out of the way, crowding Bud into a small niche and jamming himself in beside him. “Ok, so not good. We're going to get thrown out of New Orleans, never mind the Undercity.” Bud just grunted, Xander's elbow was digging him in the ribs. Spike hammered on the demon, who fought back. This was not a fight of finesse; it was brute strength, fang and claw. The patrons of the club scattered, leaving by any door they could reach, and there were more than it appeared. The demon roared and flailed its arms as Spike took a bite out of its ear. Since he was vamped, it was most of the ear. It really didn't do to have long floppy ears in a fight with Spike. The demon managed to get hold of the back of Spike's coat and threw him into a wall. Spike bounced off with a grunt, but managed to keep his feet. Xander sighed, crossed his arms over his chest and settled one ankle over the other. “I wish he wouldn't do that.” Bud grunted, leaning in the same way against the other side of the niche and slightly behind Xander. There wasn't enough room for them to stand side-by-side. “You know he likes to play with his kill first. Leave him alone.” While Bud and Xander had been talking, Spike had been hammering on his opponent. An opponent who was sadly overmatched, no matter that he was nearly twice Spike's size. Spike was not the oldest vampire around, even in New Orleans, but he was one of the strongest. He was turned by Drusilla, but mastered and sired by Angelus. He had blood he didn't have to fight for and a Companion who was his equal. All this made him very powerful. Right now he was using this power to demolish the demon who'd dared to touch what was his. The demon knew it was in trouble; the fact that Spike was doing his best to tear off the ear he'd taken a bite out of was a really big clue. It snatched at Spike, but lost its grip; sometime during the fight Spike had broken several of its fingers. Xander and Bud watched the fury with interest. Xander commented, “Spike really seems pissed.” Bud replied, “Yeah, that idiot touched his Claimed.” “I thought I was a Companion.” “Claimed, Companion what's the difference? Same thing when it comes to insult. Besides, you're well on your way to being a Consort.” Xander just grunted, “Oh... 'k.” and went back to watching. But the fight was almost over; the demon was weakly kicking its legs and scrabbling its claws on the floor. Spike was strangling it, happily indulging his craving for mayhem. Xander pointed to four bouncers who were approaching Spike. “We better get out there. If he mangles the help, people aren't going to be happy.” Bud lunged up from his hip shot against the wall stance and headed for the bouncers. Xander followed, but veered off to see if he couldn't get Spike to lay off. “Spike, come on, he's out of it. There's bouncers here. Spike!” Spike wasn't letting up, and Xander didn't want him to get into a fight with the bouncers as well; that would be an insult to Master Robinson. He grabbed at Spike again and nearly got himself smacked. Spike managed to pull up just in time. “What the hell? Xander, you're going to get it later. What are you thinking?” Spike shook his head, shaking off his fury as well as his war face. “I'm thinking that you're getting ready to insult our host in a way he can't ignore. Punish me later, leave now. Come on.” Xander grabbed Spike again, and this time Spike cooperated. Xander left Bud to make excuses, apologies, or what ever was called for. He took Spike out into the long corridor and looked for a private place for him to calm down in. One of the bouncers obviously knew what he needed and just pointed to a door down the way a bit and said, “In there. Take your time. I'll stand outside.” Xander dragged Spike into the well appointed room and realized that it was a private scene or play room. It was attached to a club, and this was the private exit. “Well, looks like we've got the perfect place for my punishment.” Xander hugged Spike then pushed him away a bit. Spike snorted. “You know damn good and well that I'm not gonna do anything much to you. Idiot. I could have really hurt you.” “But you didn't. You've got better control than that. Come here.” Spike sidled back up to Xander smiling coyly. “An' what are ya gonna do?” “You're evil. Stop that. Going all coy and stuff.” Spike nipped at Xander's chin, blunt, human teeth making no mark. “ 'M not coy. 'M evil.” Xander just kissed Spike silent. He ground his pelvis into Spike's groin, and they both groaned. “Damn it, luv. Unless you want to get fucked right here, stop that.” Spike ground back. Xander just started stripping Spike who didn't protest much, only wriggling his shoulders to help Xander get his shirt off, and then his hips as his jeans caught on his erect dick. “Oh, my god. Do you know how hot I get just looking at you?” Xander stepped back a bit to look his fill. “You never let me look. It's all rush, rush, rush, not that I'm complaining exactly.” Spike just looked back. Xander was right; they were usually in so much of a rush to get to business that they didn't take time to appreciate each other. Spike took a moment to really look at Xander. The boy had developed into a deep-chested, narrow-hipped man whose broad shoulders and powerful arms and legs told the story of hours and hours spent in a dojo and at hard physical labor. Xander moved like a panther, all powerful muscles under sleek skin. He realized that he needed to get Xander a new collar, his was just about too small and that wouldn't do. Xander also took time to look. Spike hadn't changed much. He was still slender, whipcord lean and tight; tight abs, tight gluts, tight everywhere. His bleached blond hair was still as sleek as ever, but it seemed thicker somehow. And he was more than twice as strong as before. Regular blood supply and less stress, despite what he might claim, had led to his improved physical state. Xander found that he liked what he saw very much. Xander gathered the smaller man into his arms and hugged him close. “Spike, master, what's wrong? You've been really nervous all night. Is there something I can do?” Spike leaned into the hug. Sometimes all he wanted was to be able to let go for a moment, just a moment. “I'm Ok. Just had something that was worrying me. Lady cleared that one up, now I just need to let off some steam. Fight helped.” “Well, a good fuck should finish the job then.” Spike nibbled at Xander's neck. “Don't talk like that. Not about us.” “Ok, then what is it we do?” “Not sure. Make love? Too sappy for me. Screw? Granted you're a carpenter, but I'm not a piece of wood.” Xander chuckled into Spike's cheek. “Ok, so we don't fuck, make love, or screw. There's a lot of other things to call it, most of them either crude or clinical. Let's get a thesaurus and look them all up. I'm sure you can find something that doesn't offend your Victorian sensibilities.” The laughter in his voice made Spike poke him in the stomach. “Stop that, this is really serious. And Vicky was a straight laced old broad, even when she was young. Now.” “How about you stop yapping and we bump uglies?” Spike snarled softly, but with little threat. “That's the worst yet.” Xander snickered then said softly, “Maybe we should stop talking then.” Spike suddenly realized something, “Oi! How come I'm naked and you're not?” “Was waiting for you to rectify the situation. Glad you finally noticed.” Xander smirked at Spike in a totally unrepentant way, which made Spike start stripping him. “Jesus Christ! You must have... what's this?” As Spike stripped Xander, he piled his weapons on a small table. “Fuck.” Xander just grinned. “I know, I know. I see you put them up every day, but... I just never realized really.” Xander grinned as he stood in nothing but his collar. “So, I'm a paranoid asshole. Deal.” Spike just kissed Xander, nipping at his lips until he opened his mouth. The resultant tongue tangle left them both breathless; panting, Xander pushed Spike in the general direction of the nearest flat surface. They tumbled onto the futon with a thump and laughed when the frame didn't survive the impact. There had been other places for them to occupy, but none of them were of interest: the spanking bench was too narrow, the sling too high, and neither one of them was interested in doing anything standing up. They pulled the cotton mattress off the broken frame and stretched out on it on the floor. “Mmmm. Like this.” Xander ran a hand over Spike's chest, pinching one nipple. “Oi!” Spike protest was half hearted at best as he was running one hand over Xander's chest and trying to wriggle the other under him. They'd rolled over several times and Spike had gotten on top of Xander, so now he was trying to get one hand under him for obvious reasons. “If you insist.” Xander rolled them again then flipped onto his back beside Spike, allowing them both to touch where they wished. It was a slow heat up; Xander stroked and petted Spike while Spike did the same to him. They touched and stroked each other until Xander couldn't stand it anymore. He lifted his legs and pulled his knees to his chest. “Spike, if you don't do something right now, I'm gonna blow on my own.” Spike just laughed and helped himself to a small bottle of lube from the table nearby. “Mmmm, coconut.” He popped the top open and squeezed, but nothing happened, it was still sealed. Completely undaunted, he bit the bottom out of it and slathered the contents over himself and Xander. Xander yelped as the cold stuff was smeared from his throbbing erection to his anus. “Damn it! That shit's cold!” Spike leered at Xander. “A little friction will heat it up.” Xander grumbled, “Evil, undead, cold-blooded...” then moaned as Spike moved between his legs and slipped into him in one smooth, firm stroke. “Oh, mu' god!” Spike pulled out and did it again hitting Xander's prostate. He whimpered and grabbed at Spike's shoulders. “Contrary to popular belief, I won't break. Damn it, harder.” Spike stroked harder, bumping Xander's prostate every other stroke. In any other man, this would have been painful after only a few moments, for Xander it just increased his enjoyment. Immensely. Spike sped up and Xander groaned. It felt so very good. “Blast, luv, I'm not gonna last. Sorry.” Spike howled his release. Xander replied with a cry of his own as they climaxed almost together. Spike collapsed against Xander who hugged him close. “Sorry about that. Way too fast.” Xander snorted. “It was good. We were both too tense to last long. Rest.” So they rested, until someone knocked on the inside door. Spike gave Xander a big eyed look that made him laugh. “How the hell did we get into this room?” Xander rolled his head on the futon. “No idea. Luck? Magic? Someone forgot to lock the door? Don't care. Just pay the fucker and let's get cleaned up.” Spike sauntered over to open the door and snarl in the knocker's face, “What!” “Um... sir? I'm sorry, sir, but there's a fee for the room. It should have been paid up front, but... um... could you pay it now, please?” Spike gave a jerky nod and turned to glare at a hysterically laughing Xander. “Stop that, you.” He slammed the door in the demon’s face. Xander just laughed harder. Spike finally opened the attached bathroom door, turned on the shower, and returned to the futon. He pulled Xander into a standing position, jammed his shoulder in Xander's stomach making him 'oof', and strode to the running shower. He dumped Xander into the brisk stream of water and snickered when Xander yelped. He hadn't left it ice cold, but it was still decidedly chilly. “Asshole!” Spike just adjusted the temperature and stepped in in front of Xander. “Nice, now you get all the hot water.” “Whiner.” Spike just started washing himself. Xander helped then started to wash himself, Spike helped, but wound up fondling Xander more than really washing him. Xander finally slapped his hands away and finished while Spike snickered. Xander stepped out of the shower and took the towel Spike handed him. He sighed; he really didn't want to put the same underwear back on. His clothing was still clean, but he just had a thing about underwear. “What? You hurt? You need something?” Spike gave him a concerned look. Xander just shook his head. “Clean underwear.” Spike gave him blank face. “I'm not hurting. That's fine. I just hate putting on underwear that I've already worn.” Spike nodded. “Ok, clean underwear.” He just tossed on his clothes and left. Xander wrapped the towel around his waist and wandered out into the outer room. Spike opened the door the demon had tapped on and glanced out. The same demon was sitting on a small stool across the hallway. “Oi, you! Y-fronts size 34. And the tab. Go.” The demon just nodded and trotted off. Spike returned to the room and glanced around. It was well appointed and at one time would have been more than attractive to Spike, now he found it overdone, underwhelming, and slightly silly. Xander was crouched, towel wrapped firmly around his waist, trying to fix the futon frame. “Forget that crap. I'll pay for it and be done with it. Sit down. Relax.” Spike wandered over to the mini-bar and poked around for a moment. “Morgan and coke?” Spike held up the tiny bottle of liquor. Xander snorted. “At those prices? Don't think so. Especially since that's barely a sip.” Spike shrugged, he felt good enough that he really didn't care one way or the other. “Ok. Tab should be here soon. And underwear.” Xander dropped the pants he was about to put back on and grinned. “Really?” “Really. Would I lie to you?” Xander considered this long enough that Spike was beginning to feel offended. “No, I really don't think you would. Why bother?” Spike preened a bit. “Thanks.” A light tap on the door had him asking, “Get that, will you, luv?” “Sure. Bet it's a massive bill and my shorts.” Xander opened the door to find that it was indeed his shorts and a bill. He just handed the demon his credit card and shut the door in its face. It didn't take him long to dress and replace his weapons. He went to the opposite side of the room and opened that door. “Bud?” “Right here, buddy. What's up?” “Nothing now.” Xander smirked at his friend. “We'll be leaving in a few. You Ok?” “Fine as frog hair split three ways. Ready to go any time you are. Master Spike feel better?” “Yeah. Me, too.” Bud just nodded. Spike had to wait for the bill and credit card to come back so that Xander could sign it. They spent the time examining the set up and making crude comments. They laughed quite a bit; Spike's sharp wit and dry delivery kept Xander snickering. The demon who returned with the bill was very apologetic about not having them on his reservation list; neither Spike nor Xander bothered to tell him that the outer door had been unlocked. Xander signed the invoice and they left, collecting Bud, and heading back up to the street level. They exited the tavern and walked back to the SUV. Bud got them back to their hotel and they made it to bed just before sunrise. |
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