Back With Me by Alexandria Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part

Back With Me
by Alexandria
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven-Eleven Part Twelve-Seventeen

Part One

“Hit me.”

An eyebrow arched up at the firm words. “Are you quite sure about that?
Doesn’t seem like a good idea, mate.”

A resolved nod in response. “Hit me. I mean it.”

“Well, if you’re sure about that,” Spike drawled then reached out a quick
hand, expertly flipping the card across the table. “Six of spades. That
makes 22, sorry, luv, thanks for playing.”

Xander just groaned, what had possessed him to do that? He still never
knew what to do if he was holding sixteen, just seemed too close to call.

“Pet, not necessarily a bad decision, just make sure you have the money to
lose, can go either way. Besides,” Spike dealt himself another card,
“dealer would have had twenty so you were fucked either way.”

Xander just nodded, watching Spike’s elegant hands scoop up the cards and
shuffle them together.

“Now, once again, what are the three cardinal lessons?” Spike fanned the
deck, then placed it on the table, cutting and recutting the cards, idly
palming a card now and then, just for the practice.

“One, always stand on seventeen. Two, set your limit BEFORE you sit at
the table. Three, the house always wins.” Xander absently repeated,
concentrating on watching Spike’s hands. Damn, he could never see how he
managed to do that. Everything looked fine, then suddenly the ace of
spades appeared in Spike’s hand. Damn vampire speed, wasn’t fair.

“Why did you pick this, luv? Could have taught you craps just as easily,
less relative odds to keep in your head.” Spike dealt out the cards and
Xander grinned when he saw his hand.

“Blackjack, take that you cocky vamp,” he chortled, seeing Spike’s lowly
ten and three.

“Better to be lucky than good,” Spike grinned back. “Seriously, why this
of all the things you could have chosen.”

Xander just shrugged. “Wanted to learn some kind of card came, didn’t
want to be reduced to playing slots the whole time. Baccarat has that
whole Bond, James Bond thing, and, as you proved last week, I can’t bluff
for shit so poker’s out.” He winced a little at that thought. He had
lost $200 in about twenty minutes and Spike had never been allowed to
touch the deck. Damn vampires and their three facial expressions.

“So you pick the one game that rewards Stephen Hawking like math skills.”
Spike just shook his head affectionately. “Well, I’ll just be here,
waiting for the call to wire you money.”

Xander swatted Spike as he walked past him into the kitchen, grabbing a
couple of beers.

“Doubt we’ll be in the casino that much anyway, you know Anya.”

“Hmmm,” the low reply. “So where are you staying again?”

“The Luxor, you know the pyramid shaped one, she said something about
Egypt, mummies, that whole thing,” Xander sat on the couch, flipping on
the television.

“So, your little demon says, ‘Hey, let’s go to Vegas for the week’ and you
aren’t worried one little bit that she’s getting you there for more
nefarious reasons then gambling? Lots of chapels about, pet.” Spike
settled on the other end of the couch, taking a long drink. Just like the
bitch, drag Xander off where his friends couldn’t interfere, where he
couldn’t keep an eye out for the lad, get him drunk, get him married.

“Nope, trust me, she made that damn clear when she made the reservations.
She just wanted to get away. It’s our two year anniversary you know and
she made a killing day trading, went in and bought a bunch of stuff during
the downturn, then just held it until everything started to climb again.”
Xander grinned around the lip of the bottle. “Can get used to being a
kept man.”

“Sure, luv, anything you say,” Spike’s skepticism was plain. “Fly out
tomorrow, back week Sunday, right?”

“Yup, appreciate you keeping watch over the place.” Xander looked around
proudly. The house was small, but it was his. He had worked long and
hard to make it nice, to repair the roof, the walls, the floor, hell,
pretty much gutted it and started over. And it was his. No help from
anyone else. He didn’t want anything to happen to it while he was gone
and a week was an eternity on the Hellmouth.

“Well, beats the crypt any day even if your windows are drafty. Why me,
not one of the rest of the gang?” Spike settled in on the couch, wiggling
his back ever so slightly into the cushions.

“They’re too busy, and, besides, no one wanted to stay, just drop by, get
the mail, stuff like that.” Xander knew that he was being a little
obsessive, but he had never been gone more than a day and he didn’t want
to worry while on vacation. He knew Spike would take good care of the
house, knowing full well that Buffy staking him would be the least of his
problems if anything happened while Xander was gone.

They both looked up at the sound of keys in the front door. “Men,
packages, car, carry,” she managed to hiss out as she staggered in, laden
with boxes and bags. It seemed her little shopping trip had gone well.

“Oh, yes, dear, anything for you, dear, I just do what you say, dear,”
Spike swept out the door with a mock bow, heading out now that Xander’s
little love was back.

“See ya, Spike, thanks in advance.” Xander called to the retreating
figure. Spike just tossed a wave over his shoulder and stalked away.

=======================================================================
Spike paced through the small rooms of the house, tracing a circle from
bedroom to living room to kitchen to bathroom to bedroom. He was going
slowly insane, the scent of Xander surrounding him. Once again, his
thoughts turned to their unlikely alliance. Since the fucking chip had
been slammed into him, he and the whelp had slowly formed a strong
friendship. Spike clearly understood the reasons behind it. They were
the outcasts of their peers, the ones on the edges of the action. Spike
was a pariah in the demon realm, while Xander was the comic relief of the
Slayerettes. Neither were taken seriously, both were consulted only when
all other avenues failed. At first, they were merely drinking partners,
each trying to one up the other in tales of self-pity and woe. But
gradually, so gradually neither had noticed, they had become friends.
Now, they saw each other every day, frequently calling just to check in.
Spike had managed to acquire a cell phone for which he mysteriously never
reached a bill and Xander was the only one of the Scooby gang who had the
number. Spike was a frequent quest in Xander and Anya’s home. Indeed,
the guest room wasn’t so much a guest room as it was Spike’s room, he even
had several sets of clothing there. Blood was always in the refrigerator,
ashtrays were on the endtables and Xander even allowed Spike to order
Manchester United matches off the satellite. All quite cozy.

“Bloody hell, turning all domestic, doing him favors, running around doing
errands for his chit, love’s bitch indeed,” Spike muttered, pacing faster
and faster. Spike knew exactly why he was so willing to swallow his
pride, so willing to quell the voices in his head mocking him for his
shameful loss of face. He was a laughingstock now, he knew that, he heard
the whispers when the other vampires didn’t know he could hear them. Poor
old Spike, the Slayer’s pet, no, not that, worse than that, the pet of the
Slayer’s pet. He knew and didn’t care. He loved Xander, had loved Xander
since he couldn’t say when, didn’t want to try to decide. It was worth it
just to be some small part of his life.

“Always pick the impossible, don’t you, you stupid pillock. Cicely,
Angelus, Dru, yes, quite the track record there, mate. Stuck up bitch,
broody bastard, certifiably insane vampiress, nice collection, mate. Now
a human, oh that’s lovely. A human man, straight as can be, in love with
a former demon. Walking Springer show.” The muttering continued as Spike
began the familiar litany in his head, trying to find some way to remind
himself of what he used to be, how continents had once trembled at the
mere mention of his name. Now, now he was house sitting for someone he
would have considered a nice snack in the good old days. He growled
deeply, shaking off the melancholy. No, one brooder was quite enough in a
family, thank you, and his already had the master itself.

“Right, need to find something to do, never were good at thinking,
action’s more my game,” Spike stopped in the center of the living room,
casting a dark look around. “Let’s see, could try to find something to
blackmail the whelp, that would be good.” Spike nodded, his enthusiasm
for the project rising quickly. “Yes, good plan, that, can save those
Polaroids for later.” An evil grin curled at the corners of his mouth.
Xander truly should have known better than to get so drunk he passed out,
not when Spike was still sober and in possession of a camera. Spike was
rather certain that Xander didn’t want anyone but Anya knowing that she
made him wear tiger striped thong underwear.

Spike efficiently set about checking the house for its secrets, already
knowing where they kept their porn and sex toys. Actually, those weren’t
even hidden, just kept in a box under the bed and that only because Xander
insisted upon it. Anya would have left the handcuffs and gag ball on the
corner table if it were up to her. No, Spike was after more interesting
items, like old pictures. Perhaps old pictures of Xander when he was on
the swim team, now that would be sight to see.

The living room yielded nothing, nor did the kitchen. Well, nothing more
than some money and a few rings of Anya’s kept in a fake can in the
pantry. Spike pocketed the bills, then moved to the bathroom. No,
nothing there either. He carefully knocked on the walls, finding it hard
to believe that Xander, with all his construction skills, hadn’t made some
secret compartment. Still, nothing.

He moved into what even he had taken to calling his room, a chill running
through him once again at the thought. Good thing he had given up pride
last year, otherwise the shame of being a tolerated guest in a human’s
home may have crushed him. Still, nothing, not even behind the loose
board in the closet. He frowned. Either Xander was very clever or he had
wisely cleared out any incriminating items prior to Spike’s arrival.

Frowning at that thought, Spike entered Xander and Anya’s room, flinching
a little at the scent of their sex that still lingered there, even though
they had been gone for three days and Spike had immediately opened the
windows when he had arrived that Sunday. It was bad enough to smell it
when they were there, it was infinitely worse to smell it when they were
gone. How many nights had he leaned back on the bed in the next room,
clearly hearing the sounds of their lovemaking, the scent of it
overpowering him. How many times had he wrapped a cool hand around
himself, stroking in time to Xander’s thrusts, trying to picture himself
under, over, around that beautiful body. It seemed a cruel taunt that he
would still have to smell it now.

Spike checked the room. Still nothing. He started over again, focusing
on the closet, tapping carefully at the walls. Finally, he was rewarded
with a slight echo in the wall behind Anya’s shoeboxes. He pulled the
boxes away, then looked closely. He could just make out the seam, just
barely feel the slight indentation. He carefully slid the panel to the
side, then reached a hand in. He felt the corner of an envelope and
grinned. Jackpot. Xander wasn’t the only one getting lucky. He eased
the envelope out the hole and then padded into the kitchen to examine his
prize.

“FUCKING BITCH, RIP HER HEART OUT. MOTHERFUCKING CUNT,” Spike couldn’t
stop the screams from ripping from his throat, not caring that the
neighbors would surely hear. The pictures spread across the table. Anya
and some man. Some man with dark hair and dark eyes, but without Xander’s
smile, Xander’s warmth, Xander’s face. Letters, matchbooks, dating back
over a year. So this explained her buying trips, her private voicemail
account, explained the secret smiles. The bitch had a lover, had had a
lover, continued to have a lover. Spike reached down, his hands trembling
in rage as he traced the words of the most recent letter.

“Dearest, miss you, must see you, meet me in Las Vegas. I’ll bring her,
you bring him, they will never suspect.”

**At least he was right about her not wanting to get married** Spike just
snarled as the thought crossed his mind. Like that mattered now. Xander
had been so happy about this trip, so proud that he was in a loving,
stable relationship. All a lie. Spike reached out, grabbing the phone
from the wall, dialing the number from memory. He had stared at the paper
with the number for the hotel for hours, playing imaginary conversations
with Xander in his head. This was the longest they had gone without
talking in over a year, hell, Spike usually called Xander to say he was
leaving to come to the house, then Xander would call and ask Spike to pick
up something on the way, then Spike would call back to make sure he had
everything, then Xander would call to see how close Spike was to arriving
at the house. Three days was an eternity. He dialed the number, listened
to the rings, then suddenly hung up. No, no he would not do this.

Spike pulled out a cigarette, craving the nicotine to calm him down. No,
he wouldn’t just call, wouldn’t ruin it for Xander. Better to let him
have the lie for a few more days. When they returned, however, he would
make sure that he and the demon bitch had a little talk. He would make
sure that Anya left Xander, but he would also make sure that Xander never
knew the real reason behind the trip. Just that, she could give Xander
just that. Spike yanked open the freezer and pulled out the bottle of
vodka. If this didn’t call for getting drunk, he didn’t know what did.
This was going to devastate Xander and there was nothing he could do to
stop it. Couldn’t even kill the bitch for what she had done. Bypassing a
glass as merely a wasted gesture, Spike took a huge gulp straight from the
bottle.
=========================================================================

Spike flattened himself to the wall just inside the front door, quickly
calculating that, yes, he could pin whatever it was trying to break into
the house to the far wall without being exposed to the sun. He had been
asleep on the couch, still a little groggy from his binge two days before.
He had finished the bottle of vodka, then the whiskey, then the gin, then
the rest of the beer before collapsing in the middle of the kitchen floor.
He had regained consciousness the next morning long enough to moan then
stagger into his bed. He slept most of the rest of the day, finally being
forced to move due to hunger. Even blood had tasted like sand in his
mouth and he had collapsed again on the couch. However, the sound of a
car pulling into the driveway, followed by the low murmur of voices, then
a slammed door, had snapped him awake. He listened as someone walked up
to the door then began fiddling with the lock. He knew it couldn’t be
Xander and Anya, it was only Thursday, they weren’t due back for another
three days. He tensed as he saw the handle, then slammed the intruder
into the wall, gameface on and ready to fight.

“Fuck, Spike, gods, what are you doing,” Xander yelped out from his
position on the wall.

Spike blinked in shock, his grip on Xander’s shirt never lessening.
“Xander, what are you doing here, you’re early, where’s,” he stopped
himself at that, feeling the snarl curling in his throat. He knew that
saying the cunt’s name right now would not be a good idea. He fought back
the small surge of happiness he felt at seeing Xander again, concerned by
how tired and drawn he looked.

Xander looked away for a second as Spike slowly lowered him to the ground.
“We, well, we had a fight.” He didn’t really want to talk about it,
wasn’t sure if he could talk about it without choking up.

“Lose all her money, whelp? Spank some waitress in one of those little
toga outfits?” Spike followed Xander as Xander made his tired way into
his bedroom, checking quickly to make sure that the envelope was still
hidden under the mattress in Spike’s room and wasn’t lying out on the
kitchen counter.

“No.” The brief reply was all Spike got as Xander dropped his back on the
bed, then fell back, throwing an arm across his face. He couldn’t stand
seeing this room, seeing their room, seeing her picture on the bedstand.
He threw an arm out and began to blindly flail away at the table, knocking
everything off. He felt a strong hand suddenly grab his wrist, stopping
him. Xander tried to tug away, not putting much effort into it, knowing
that Spike would just win.

Spike stared down, deeply concerned. Xander looked terrible even to his
eyes. He was pale and drawn and it looked like he had been crying. Spike
realized with a start that he had never witnessed Xander cry and was
suddenly desperate to maintain that streak. He slowly knelt next to the
bed, carefully setting Xander’s arm down.

“Pet, you all right, something happen?” He had no idea how to begin to
ask, if asking was even the right thing to do.

A bitter snort came from the body next to Spike. “Oh, everything is just
fine. Just great. Just dandy, peachy keen, neato, boffo, terrific,
stupendous, sublime.” Xander kept his eyes shut, the scene replaying over
and over in his mind. “Having a great time, nice place, beautiful room,
beautiful woman, being catered to hand and foot. Even managed to win over
$2,000 at blackjack. See, I can learn if I put my mind to it. Everything
was just great. Yesterday was our anniversary and we went out, great
dinner, better sex, just perfect. Then, this morning, I decided to go
swimming, Anya said she didn’t want to go, would meet me later. Said
fine, would see her in a few hours. Went down, swam a few laps, got
bored, decided to go back to the room. Opened the door. Found Anya
taking it up the ass from some guy. Freaked out, thought she was being
raped at first,” Xander let out a tired laugh at that. “Really did, never
occurred to me that she was a more than willing participant until I pulled
the prick off her and starting beating his face in. She grabbed me,
yanked me off, then went back to check on him. That’s when I finally got
a clue, when it all started to make sense. I should have figured
something was up when she told me she had that daily massage appointment.
Anyway, to make a long story short, after much screaming and throwing
things around, she finally told me that she didn’t love me, that she loved
him, that we were there only because he was there for a convention. That
it had been going on for over thirteen months and she just didn’t know how
to tell me. Did the only thing I could to try to have some dignity,
grabbed my bags, threw some clothes on and walked out the door. Left her
there fussing over him. Tried to make the grand exit, whirled around and
told her not to come back. She didn’t even look over, just told me that
she hadn’t planned to and that she would arrange to have her stuff packed
and shipped to her. Left, got on a plane, came home.”

“Xander,” Spike heard the crack in his voice. “Oh, bloody hell, sorry,
mate. I’m so sorry.”

“What do you know about it,” Xander hissed out, feeling the waves of pain
wash over him. “How would you understand?”

“You do remember Dru, Xander,” Spike kept his voice low and quiet, his
emotions tearing him in two. One half of him just wanted to wrap his arms
around Xander and never let go. The other howled to hunt her down and
torture her for days, no years, for what she had done. “I do know what
it’s like, been there myself.”

Xander nodded at that, remembering some of the tales he had heard from
Angel as to how Dru had taunted Spike, opening flaunting her lovers.
“Guess you do, just, why, I don’t understand, I loved her, I gave her
everything.” Xander started to pant, trying to will the tears away.
**Not in front of Spike, please, no, humiliated enough, not that, not that
too** An unwelcome tear traced down his cheek, and Xander turned on his
side, trying desperately to hide, wishing he had thought to crawl under
the covers so that he could hide his face. He felt a tentative hand trace
his back, the touch feather light.

“Xander, I’m sorry, she didn’t deserve you, shouldn’t have done that,”
Spike started. He had no idea what to say or do. “Just, wish I could
bring her heart back for you.”

Xander couldn’t help smiling a little at that. Typical Spike, violence as
affection. “Yeah, I know, can you just leave me alone for a little, don’t
really want to talk.”

“Certainly,” Spike moved to the doorway, pausing for a moment, resisting
the urge to either wrap himself around Xander or rip the room to shreds.
**Of course he would come back during the day, can’t even go find
something to kill** “If you need anything,” again his voice trailed off.

Xander nodded wearily. “Thanks, Spike. I’ll let you know.” With that
Spike left the room, heading quickly for his own. He grabbed his lighter,
squeezing it so tight that it burst. He bent his head, then slowly walked
to his own room, blackness filling his heart. He was helpless, he
couldn’t make this better, couldn’t hunt her down and exact revenge. He
was pathetic and sad, couldn’t protect what he had come to view as his.
He settled down on the bed, listening to the sobbing in the next room,
each sound breaking his heart a little more.
==========================================================================

Spike kicked the door again, arms full balancing the two pizza and the two
six packs of beer. “Open the door, whelp, food’s getting cold.”

“Hold on, there in a minute,” Xander called back. Over the last eight
months, he and Spike had grown even closer. It had taken Xander a good
three months to begin smiling again after the Vegas disaster. He had
smiled only once during the first week back and that was when Spike had
built the huge bonfire of Anya’s belongings in the backyard. Spike had
stayed with Xander those first few weeks, terrified of what Xander might
do if left alone. It was Spike who talked to Anya when she called. Spike
who informed her exactly and in detail of what he thought of her
character. The memory made Xander grin whenever he thought about it now.
You had to be pretty low if a vampire thought your character left
something to be desired. Xander finally threw Spike out the night he
realized that Spike was staying only because he thought Xander might harm
himself. It was sweet, in Spike’s own demented way, but it made Xander
feel powerless. He appreciated the gesture though. Spike had been very
kind to him, spending many a night sitting on Xander’s couch. They still
patrolled and Xander had discovered the joy of reflected anger. He had
some inkling now of why Spike got off on it so much. Nothing like ripping
something’s head off while pretending it was your ex-girlfriend’s. Xander
limped a little faster to the door when he heard the loud kicks begin
again.

“Oi, hurry up, blood’s starting to clot.” Every Saturday night, the same
thing. Pizza and beer and some stupid movie. Xander was doing better,
was almost back to his old self and Spike was determined to spend as much
time with Xander as he could before his pet found a new girlfriend. It
was only a matter of time, even if Xander seemed oblivious to the women
throwing themselves at him when they went to the bar last night. Spike
sighed, knowing he was only making it harder on himself by spending so
much time with Xander, but those dark, deep eyes got him every time.
Whenever Xander looked at him just that way when he asked Spike to do
something, the still there traces of fear and hesitation, like Spike was
going to leave him too, it just pulled his heart out and, no matter what
his firm resolutions of the night before, Spike would just nod and say,
“Sounds good, mate, see you then,” then, back at the crypt, he would damn
himself as an idiot and a fool.

“’Bout bloody time, took you long enough, what happen, get lost on the
way,” Spike called out as he pushed past Xander to set the food and drink
on the table. He stopped suddenly, sensing something amiss. He turned
around and his jaw dropped in shock. Xander stood there, arm in a sling,
bruises covering his face and arms, leaning against the wall. Spike took
three quick steps over and reached a shaky hand up, tracing his fingers
over Xander’s cheek, careful not to touch hard enough to hurt. “Bloody
hell, pet, what happened to you, you didn’t go out without any of us, what
happened, what hurt you, where is it, I’ll kill it, Xander,” Spike sighed
out, heart twisting, “Hells, your arm what happened.” He carefully led
Xander over to the couch, fussing about, trying to make sure that Xander
was comfortable.

“Nothing attacked me, well, not demon anyway. I was walking out to my car
in the mall parking lot, stopped to pick up some new boots for work, when
this idiot backed straight out from a parking space without looking and
ran right into me. Knocked me down, knocked me out, don’t know how he
managed not to run over me. Somebody saw, called an ambulance, went to
the hospital. Have a dislocated shoulder, various bumps and bruises and a
mild concussion.” Xander watched as Spike suddenly grew even paler. He
hadn’t thought that was possible.

“When, why didn’t you call, would have come, did you get the prick’s name,
pay him a visit, I will,” Spike growled out, trying to calm the panic
ripping through him. Hit by a car, he had been hit by a car. He could
have been killed, what if the wheel had gone over his head. Spike stopped
that train of thought immediately. No, no couldn’t think about that.

“I’m not going to tell you who or where precisely because you will pay
them a visit. I’ll beat the little shit myself, thank you very much. I
didn’t call because it happened about 3:00 this afternoon and I knew you
would try to come to the hospital and I didn’t want you going out. Sunny
day today you know.” Xander glanced over, trying out a quick grin. He
hadn’t called because he knew Spike would be upset and, as much as he
wanted Spike there, he wasn’t going to take that chance. Spike didn’t
need to know that Xander had sat on the exam room table, dialing the first
six digits of Spike’s number over and over, the pattern calming him.

“Could have used the sewers, tunnels run right under the hospital,
entrance right next to the crypt, no problem, should have called.” Spike
reached out again, unable to stop himself. He had to touch, had to feel
the warmth under his fingertips.

“I know, but I didn’t want you to worry,” Xander said, closing his eyes as
Spike ran his hands gently over the marks on his arms, the coolness
soothing. “Didn’t get out of there until about an hour ago, knew you were
coming over.”

Spike nodded. “You’ll be fine, though, right? Nothing permanent?” He
couldn’t help the waver in his voice, and he suddenly looked away, hoping
Xander hadn’t heard.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Would you mind staying tonight, though. Doctor said
that I can sleep and all that, just have someone check on me every few
hours.” Xander hurt like hell and didn’t want to be alone. Actually, if
truth be told, he did want to be alone. Just alone with Spike. He hadn’t
called anyone from the hospital, not wanting to worry any of the others.
He just wanted Spike. Spike made him feel safe and happy and warm **and,
wow, are the pain pills kicking in now** and Xander let out a huge yawn.
“Drugged me up too, thought you weren’t supposed to do that with
concussions, but whatever they gave me knocked me out.”

“Do you want to go lie down, here, let me help you,” Spike stood, ready to
pull Xander up with him.

“No, wanna stay here, hurts to lie flat, feels good like this,” Xander
murmured, drifting off. “Glad you’re here, wanted to call, did, wanted to
see you,” his voice trailed off as he fell asleep.

Spike quietly went into Xander’s bedroom, pulling the comforter off the
bed. He gently draped it over Xander’s body, then settled down next to
him on the couch, pizza and beer forgotten as he focused all his senses on
listening to Xander sleep.
=========================================================================

Spike sat on the roof of the crypt, resting his arms on his knees drawn to
his chest. He blew a stream of smoke into the air, feeling the heat of
the ember on his fingertips before tossing the butt aside. The roof was
littered with discarded cigarettes, nearly a pack in all. Spike simply
reached down, pulled another cigarette out and lit it, the routine no more
calming than all the times before. He slowly laid back, stretching out
flat as he gazed at the stars. It had been three weeks since Xander was
injured and Spike still wasn’t over the shock. If anything, it was worse
now than when it had first occurred. Spike had spent the first week at
Xander’s house, trying his best to take care of a very annoyed human.
Xander didn’t appreciate being fussed over, but had grudgingly been forced
to accept Spike’s help. Xander’s shoulder caused him a lot of pain and
Spike had taken the opportunity to do whatever he could to help.
Including dressing and undressing Xander. That had caused many a
sleepless day, especially since Spike hadn’t had the opportunity to do
anything about the frustration it caused, not in such close quarters. He
had worked too hard to keep his feelings hidden to slip now.

Xander was doing much better now and Spike had been forced to leave.
Tonight, Xander was out with the rest of the gang and Spike had begged
off, needing some time alone to think. Xander had promised to call when
he got back, knowing that Spike was still worried and the phone was right
there, within easy reach. Spike just stared into the clear night sky,
trying to sort out his emotions. Ever since the accident, he had been in
a state of suppressed panic. He had never allowed himself to truly
consider just what the implications were of being in love with a human.
Sure, some part of him had always acknowledged that yes, if by some
miracle he could have Xander, Xander would ultimately die. He had
witnessed the pain this caused before, he had watched and, in truth,
mocked, as other vampires lost their humans. He never understood until
now why they just didn’t turn their pets immediately and spare everyone
the drama. But now, now he understood all too well. What he loved about
Xander was his humanity. It brought out the part of William still buried
in Spike, the faint glimmer of what he had been like before he was turned
that still lingered there. As much as Spike might try to deny it, there
was still more of William in him than he cared to face. Xander just
forced what Spike had tried to suppress to return to the fore of his
consciousness. And if he turned Xander, if he still could turn anyone
that is, then that humanity would be all but destroyed and all he would be
left with would be a pale shell. That would be worse than losing Xander
completely. So, here he was, in love with a human and scared nearly out
of his mind. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to act, didn’t
know what to say.

Spike crushed the cigarette out suddenly and sat back up. He needed to
talk to someone, needed help. He hated this, hated the weakness it
revealed. But he couldn’t face it alone. Alone. Spike dropped his head
down, finally admitting what he had tried so long to deny. He was alone.
Dru was long gone. He had no minions, no peers. The rest of the vampires
hated him, along with the rest of the demon realm. He couldn’t even go to
Willy’s for a drink anymore, not since he had nearly been killed when the
entire bar joined against him. He was alone.

Spike slowly raised his head again, focusing on the belt of Orion, smiling
slightly at the memories that brought forth. Not truly alone. He could
always ask Angel. Angel understood what it was like to love a human.
Deny it all they wanted, Buffy and Angel were still in love, would always
be in love. Angel would understand. And he would walk in the sun before
he breathed a word of this to his Sire. Angel wouldn’t believe him,
wouldn’t want to even try to accept that Spike was telling the truth. He
would just assume that it was some plot or other and then he would tell
the Slayer and then all hell would break lose. No, that simply wasn’t a
choice. That meant there was only one other person he could ask. Only
one other person who would understand absolutely and utterly. Only one
person who could tell him what to do.

Spike stood and raised an arm to his mouth, knowing how truly desperate he
must be if he was willing to do this. He bit down then dipped a finger
into the blood that pooled out. Raising a hand to face, he traced the
blood down the scar in his left eyebrow, focusing all his attention on
picturing that face.

“Kat, please, what am I going to do? Kat, I need you.” He felt the
sudden burn, then dropped down to his knees, tears pouring down his face.
=======================================================================

Sydney, Australia

The small figure stood balanced perfectly on the highest point of the
Sydney Opera House, facing straight into the fierce wind. The storm blew
the jet black hair straight back from the pale face as lightening
illuminated bright blue eyes. She stood still, letting the wind blow,
feeling the electricity charge through the air. The gale winds howled
around her, the rain and the force of the wind driving everyone else
inside. The winds had been howling for a week, sounding like nothing less
than some desperate cry of pain and grief. She drank in the noise, losing
herself to the feel of the wind on her face, drenched to the skin by the
torrential downpour which served to wash the tears from her face.
Finally, she reached into the pack on her back, pulling out a small urn.
She looked down, running her fingers over the carvings, tracing around and
around the symbol of infinity carved into the lid. The winds picked up in
intensity as she grasped the lid. She paused for a moment, then raised
the urn to her lips.

“I love you. Always.”

With that, she yanked the lid free then threw the ashes high into the air,
the wind blowing the ash far and wide. Suddenly, the wind and rain
stopped, the sudden silence deafening. She stood, head down, panting.
She suddenly saw a drop of red drip down from her face, spiraling in the
air as it fell to the ground. She raised a hand to her left eyebrow,
feeling the blood drip down from the scar there.

“Kat, please, what am I going to do? Kat, I need you.” The words sounded
clear in her ear and she looked up, a brief smile crossing her face.

“Coming my sweet.”

With that, she stepped forward, dropping lightly to the ground. She
strode over to her car and reached across, checking to make sure her
passport was in the glove compartment. Seeing that it was there, she
pulled away and headed for the airport.

Part Two

Giles dropped heavily into a chair, yanking his glasses from his face and
tossing them across the table. His head fell back and he reached up to
loosen his tie.

“Well, think this calls for a drink, Willow, er, could you possibly,” he
stuttered out, not caring that everyone would now know where he kept his
scotch. His hands were shaking far, far too badly to reach for it
himself. His thoughts raced as he pondered what had just occurred. He
stared into the eyes of Death itself and she had merely given him a wink.

“Came because Spike called, but, but that’s not possible, surely we would
have known if Spike had ever met her,” he muttered, tuning out the noises
around him. He started when he felt Willow press the glass into his hand.
Nodding gratefully, he took a huge swallow, the precious burn easing his
panic.

“Giles, what was that, who is that, I mean, way wiggins.” Buffy settled
into the seat next to Giles. She was more frightened by Giles’s response
than she was by whatever that little thing that just barged in was. She
was sure that who or whatever she was, Giles would know how to handle her.

“Yeah, Giles, who was that? Why were you bowing down to her, looked
almost like you were worshipping her or something,” Willow said, running a
calming hand down his arm. Giles just took another drink, hands still
shaking.

“Giles, was that really, I mean, I always thought she would be bigger, or
have guards or something, not that she needs them, just, you know
trappings,” Tara’s voice trailed off as everyone suddenly turned to look
at her. She ducked her head down again, blushing furiously.

“You know who she is,” Giles asked, watching Tara intently.

“Well, I, I think I do. I mean, I’ve just read about her, but, well
that’s her name and you bowed to her, so really, must be you wouldn’t
otherwise,” Tara babbled, still not looking up. Willow reached out to
take her hands, making calming noises as their fingers intertwined.

“Would someone please tell me who or what she is, enough with the mystery
already, do I have to kill her, is she another sign of the apocalypse,
just someone start sharing, please?” Buffy jumped up and started to pace,
her frustration growing. She hated it when people kept things from her,
hated feeling like she was just some stupid girl who was good only for her
strength.

“Right,” Giles let out a sigh then reached for his glasses, carefully
polishing them then pushing them back up his nose. “That was Katarina de
Rien.” He paused and looked over at Buffy expectantly.

“Uh huh, knew that she introduced herself to Xander before the two of them
drug Xander off, so who the hell is she?” Buffy’s pacing increased, angry
at being treated like a small child.

“She, she, well, she is an Ancient.” Giles concentrated on breathing
reminding himself how lucky he was to still be doing so. The last Watcher
to speak to her and live had been old Isaac and that was in 1921, 1923?
Somewhere along those lines. And even then she had ripped off his penis.
A shudder ran through his body at that thought.

Willow just stared at him, eyes round with shock. “An Ancient. She’s an
Ancient. Oh my, Buffy, you tried to stake her, Giles, Buffy tried to
stake her, oh, she’s going to be angry, Buffy, you have to find her, have
to apologize, I can’t believe she let you do that, she must be planning
something, and she knows Spike, why does she know Spike, why didn’t you
know she knew Spike,” Willow paused to suck in a deep breath and Giles
jumped into the gap.

“There is no record of their ever meeting. Of course, if she didn’t want
us to know then we wouldn’t. She may simply have erased any of the
records as well, you know.” Giles looked down, pleased to see that the
tremors in his hands had stopped. Now if he could only feel his legs
again, all would be well.

“Guys, could you please speak non-Watcher for a moment.” Buffy stood
there, arms folded, tapping her feet, her patience gone. “Willow, why the
hell would I apologize for trying to stake her, she walked in here asking
for Spike, what should she expect. And why would there be a record of her
meeting Spike, why is that so important?” She glared at them, furious for
all the delays. “Just tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“Sorry, Buffy, I would like to, truly I would, but this, this is, is,
well, unprecedented. I don’t know how to begin to explain.” Giles
reached out, searching for a pen. He needed to just a few notes down now
before his traitorous mind attempted to erase the images.

“How about this, what do you mean she’s an Ancient? She didn’t look any
older than me or Willow or Tara.” Buffy plopped into a chair, a pout on
her face.

“It means that she is older than time. The Ancients have existed as long
as this world, maybe longer, no one knows for sure and they certainly
wouldn’t answer if you asked.” Giles started only to be cut off.

“Older than time, so she’s immortal, too? No, Buffy, she’s not, just has
a really long life span that equals immortal. Let’s try again, so she’s
been around forever, why did you do the whole “I’m not worthy, I’m not
worthy” thing, just because she’s old, that’s not like you. I’ve seen you
push right past old people in the line at the bank, so what’s up with
that?” Buffy snapped her gum, okay, really old girl, that she could deal
with. “Is she allergic to the sun and all that?”

“Buffy, please, just, just listen quietly, this is quite serious.
Katarina de Rien is an Ancient as I said. But she is more than that. She
is of the most powerful order of Ancients, indeed, at one point, she was
the leader of the order. But something happened, no one knows what, and
she went off on her own. That was over three millennia past. Since then,
she has simply done whatever it was that she wanted. The Ancients pride
themselves on order and ritual. She is chaos.” Giles stopped to take
another sip of scotch, both to moisten his throat and because he needed it
now that he was coming to the heart of the matter. “Still, even despite
her estrangement from the order, she upholds certain traditions. She is
the Executioner. If she arrives at your door, you are dead. It is as
simple as that. The last Watcher she visited chose to stab himself
through the eye with a pen rather than bear her wrath. You can see now
why I would bow. I still can’t believe that she let me live.”

“The executioner, but, why, what does that have to do with the Council.”
Buffy shook her head, she was more confused than ever. “What does it have
to do with me?”

“Everything, actually. The Ancients provide us with our power. It is
their knowledge and teachings that form the basis of all we do. To cross
one is to welcome death. Now, not only is Katarina the executioner, she
also happens to hate the Council. Again, something happened just over a
hundred years ago, and whatever small ties she had maintained to us
vanished. Not only did she cut off all communications, she actively began
pursuing those who angered her.”

“So, she’s of the bad. Fine, then how do we get rid of her?” She looked
up to find Giles, Willow and Tara looking at her in shock. “What? I
don’t want Giles bowing and scraping to someone who hates him just because
he’s a Watcher even if he’s supposed to worship her. That’s not right,
he never did anything to her.”

“Buffy, you, you still don’t get it do you?” Willow said, voice shaking.
“You don’t make her leave. There’s nothing you could do to make her
leave if she doesn’t want to. If she wants to stay, she’ll stay, if she
wants to go, she’ll go.”

Buffy just tossed her hair, standing again. “Giles, they might have
taught you to worship her or something, but, please, so she’s old, so
what. Please, you all are acting like she’s all powerful and all knowing
or something.”

“That’s because, basically, she is.” Tara’s quiet voice somehow still
managed to fill the room. Buffy settled back into the chair, just staring
at Tara. “It’s not just that she’s old, Buffy. It’s that she’s Ancient,
do you understand the difference. She has been here since the beginning
of time. There are some who think that the Ancients actually are time
itself. She has seen everything, done everything, possibly does know
everything. She holds the power of the universe in her hands. If she
wanted, she could probably split the earth in two just be wishing it to be
so.”

“What,” Buffy whispered, staring back and forth between them. “You mean
she’s basically a god.”

“No,” Giles shook his head. “No, not quite. But the analogy is apt. She
has power like you can only imagine. Basically, if she wishes it so, it
will be so.” Giles sighed again, unsure of how to explain. “The
elements are hers to command.”

“So what you are saying is that she can control nature,” Buffy started,
only to be cut off yet again.

“No, Buffy, I’m saying that for all intents and purposes, she IS nature.
That’s why I called her Mistress. It is what she is, a Mistress of this
realm.”

Buffy just stared. “And she’s here to see SPIKE, that can’t be good.”
She jumped up and began to pace. “Wait, if these Ancients help the
Council, then what is she doing with a vampire?”

Giles rubbed a hand across his face. “I don’t know. As I said, she does
as she wishes. And there was the break with the Council. But, still, a
vampire. And she said he called.” Giles looked up sharply. “What
exactly happened before I came out? Did she say anything to Spike?” His
eyes narrowed, trying to recall all he knew of both their pasts. There
was nothing to indicate that they should even be aware of each other’s
existence.

“Well, she came in, Buffy held a stake to her, she just laughed then Spike
came out and grabbed her like she was an old girlfriend or something.
Then she came over and picked out who we were, introduced herself to
Xander then you came out,” Willow ticked the events off on her fingers.

“Did she or Spike say or do anything, well, odd, well, odder than,” Giles
sighed unsure of how to ask. The whole bloody situation was odd to begin
with.

“You, you forgot that little ritual thing,” Tara said. She perked up a
little when Giles’s head shot up at that. “You know that whole father,
mother, brother, sister thing.”

“Tara,” Giles began, speaking very quietly and slowly, never taking his
eyes off her face. “What exactly did they say and do?”

Tara’s face scrunched up as she thought. “Well, Spike grabbed her and
spun her around and then pinned her against the wall and kissed her. Then
he put her down and she reached up and traced that scar on his eyebrow.
She has one too, same spot and everything. She said father, he said
mother, she said brother, he said sister, she said flesh of my flesh and
then he said blood of my blood. Then there was this weird flare, felt
like wind went through the room or something. Then she came over and
talked to us.” She smiled as Willow beamed at her proudly.

“Dear merciful heaven.” Giles turned and grabbed the bottle of scotch
from the table and splashed a huge amount into his glass. “No wonder we
could never kill him.” He picked up the glass and drained it in one huge
swallow. “When he tells her how we’ve treated him,” Giles eyes fell shut
and he reached for the scotch again.

“Giles, what is wrong with you, why are you acting like this?” Buffy was
starting to worry. “Please, was that important or something? What does
it mean?”

Giles let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, no, not important at all, Buffy. It’s
just that the vampire that you told was beneath you, the one that we all
have teased and tortured, the, the Fangless Wonder, I believe you called
him, well, she has taken him as kin. We’ve managed to treat the family of
the most powerful being in the world like shit.”

They all just stared at him in shock as Giles reached for the scotch
again.
===========================================================================

Xander followed after Spike as he led Kat down the street. Xander watched
as Spike carefully wrapped an arm around her waist, basically propping her
upright. **Might as well just carry her** He couldn’t stop the bitter
thoughts as he saw how gently Spike was treating her. Almost like she
were Dru.

“The Rover on the left.” Kat’s words were so quiet that only Spike could
hear them. Her hands were shaking with the effort to maintain her
control. She could still feel the viciousness and cruelty directed at
Spike which swirled under the surface of the room and it was all she could
do not to react. She knew that it was a combination of the stress of
travel combined with the pain of losing Cassie that was making it so
difficult. Knowing the reason behind the problem didn’t help make it any
easier, however. She wouldn’t, couldn’t just let go and let her anger
wash them all away. No, that was not the answer. Let them live. She was
sure the Watcher had figured out their mistake by this point and the
torture of waiting for her revenge would simply make it all the sweeter.
She had never had a problem with being patient. Not if the end were worth
it.

Besides, destroying the Slayer and her friends would only serve to upset
Spike’s love. She turned her head slowly, looking at him once again.
Spike was right, he had no idea how beautiful he was. Otherwise, he
surely would not wear those clothes, surely wouldn’t not hunch over like
he was trying to hide that body. She closed her eyes and concentrated on
the feeling of his skin on hers. She smiled slightly, recognizing the
sensations. Purity and light, innocence and bravery. No wonder Spike had
fallen. She would have herself.

“Kat, open your eyes, that’s a luv. Time to get in.” Spike opened the
passenger’s side door and settled her into the seat. Xander clambered
into the back as Spike moved around to the front. They pulled away and
headed down the street.

“Where are we headed?” Spike stole a glance over, amazed that she was
here. A part of him had honestly believed that he would never see her
again, that their reconciliation would be limited to phone calls and the
occasional package or letter. Never actual face to face contact.

“The Royal.” She stirred and turned to look at Xander.

“Thank you for coming, I’m sure you have many questions, please, just, be
a little patient, and I’ll tell you anything you would like to know.” A
smile flickered across her face. “Anything at all. Remember that for
later.” The smile grew.

“You wouldn’t,” Spike snarled over at her.

“You have met me, right, Spike? Of course, I would.” The grin grew as
she leaned back into her seat.

“Right, well, you aren’t the only one who can play that game. Xander, if
there’s anything you want to know about her that she doesn’t answer, like,
say what happened when she tried to dye her hair back to blonde straight
from jet black, you just ask me, understand.”

“Yes, but speaking of hair, I know what color yours really is. And what
happened the first time you let Dru bleach it. You don’t want to play
this game, I always win. I know your middle name.” The grin threatened
to split her face.

“No.” Spike growled again at that. “You would never.”

“Never’s an awfully long time.”

Xander just sat back and listened to the bickering, fascinated by the side
of Spike that he was seeing. Spike was just there, just being, not trying
to impress anyone or threaten or scare or make them pity him. No, just
being, just comfortable. They sounded like old friends. Or lovers. He
shook his head sharply, cursing himself. Why did this bother him so much.
Of course Spike had lovers, he probably had more lovers than hairs on his
head. And Xander had met Harmony and Dru and it hadn’t bothered him in
the slightest. Of course, Harmony was such an idiot that it was obvious
that Spike was merely using her body instead of his hand. As far as Dru,
well, Xander was usually so busy trying to keep her from killing him that
he hadn’t actually had time to think of anything else. However, since he
had been spending so much time with Spike, he had come to feel nothing but
a cold, hard clench in his stomach at the very mention of her name. He
knew how much Anya hurt him. He couldn’t even imagine how much worse it
had been for Spike.

Spike pulled into the hotel, gliding to a stop under the canopy. Xander
got out, a little taken aback. He had gone past here countless times, but
he had never been inside. The hotel screamed class and money and he had
neither. Spike, however, was helping Kat out then tossing the keys to the
valet as if he was born to be here. Xander loped along behind them as
they crossed the lobby and headed straight for the elevators.

“What room,” Spike looked over, seeing the Kat was looking a little better
now that they were away from his friends. He let out a large sigh, glad
that Buffy hadn’t tried to do anything stupid. He knew that Kat wouldn’t
have been able to stop her reaction and that could have only ended in
disaster. He glanced over to see that Xander was trying to shrink himself
into a corner of the elevator, looking incredibly uncomfortable. Spike
felt the familiar rage at all who had caused Xander to feel insignificant
wash across him. **If only I didn’t have this bloody chip**

“1412. And I’m not taking it out.”

“Wasn’t asking, luv. You’ve made your position clear.”

“Just remember that and don’t make me gag you to shut you up.”

Xander started, looking between the two of them. **What the hell** It
was obvious that they were talking about the chip. He was sure, however,
that Spike hadn’t said a word about it. This was getting a little creepy.

The elevator glided to a smooth stop and Xander watched, amazed as Spike
stepped aside to let Kat exit first. Just like the gentleman that he
wasn’t. They walked down the short hall, then Kat pulled the keycard from
her jacket pocket and led them inside.

Xander stared, amazed. The suite was beautiful, decorated in a tasteful
cream and burgundy design. There was a fireplace, already lit, with
couches in front of it. A bar ran along the far wall and there were doors
on either end of the room. Kat turned immediately for the room on the
right.

Spike walked over to Xander as he watched Kat walk away, still swaying
slightly. “Going to run her a bath, she’s awfully tired. Had a long
flight and all and it’s always disorienting to lose a day like that.
Especially if she was traveling alone.” Spike swallowed at that thought.
Kat hadn’t traveled alone for, what, at least fifteen years. She had
always had Cassie. “Can you call room service, order supper for you both,
make sure to get her a steak, rare and bloody. Caesar salad for her as
well, but light garlic.” A small smile, “Don’t want to flinch all night.
Whatever you want. We’ll be out in a few.”

Xander nodded and Spike started to stalk away. He paused then turned so
that Xander could only see his profile. “Thanks, mate.” With that, he
followed Kat into the other room.

Xander picked up the phone and placed the order, amazed at how cool and
calm he was. He was trying to battle back the familiar feeling of being
out of place. He walked to stand in front of the fire, staring into the
flames. He could faintly hear the voices in the other room, hear
splashes. He wondered if Spike was washing her back. He wondered why he
was thinking more about what Spike’s hands would look like on her back
then what Kat would look like naked. He wondered if maybe he should just
stop wondering and enjoy the warmth from the fire. He slowly sank to the
floor, looking at his watch. 12:45 a.m. He was tired.

“Xander, are you asleep,” he heard her quiet voice in his ear and slowly
turned his head, blinking sleepily. She was crouched next to him, a hand
on his shoulder. The strange warmth spread through him again, radiating
from her touch.

“Guess so, sorry, just comfortable, you know,” he yawned as they stood.
He saw Spike watching them closely, the same indescribable look on his
face as when he had shaken her hand in the store.

“Well, food’s here, came a little bit ago, but you looked so peaceful,
didn’t want to wake you.” They moved to the table where Xander saw the
plates set out, Kat’s steak gone, a few vegetable remaining on the plate.
A napkin had been draped over the salad bowl and Xander was amused to note
that Spike made sure to stay on the other side of the table. His own
dinner was simpler, just some pasta and bread. He looked over, catching
Spike’s eye.

“Sorry, no blood on the menu, checked, didn’t think you would want steak
tartare,” Xander said as he started to shovel the food down.

Spike just raised a wineglass and Xander saw the rich color of blood.
“Not a problem, pet, my Kat is nothing if not a Boy Scout, always
prepared.” He took another sip, feeling the richness of human blood
coating his throat. So good. AB negative, his favorite. She had
remembered. Of course she had remembered, she remembered everything after
all.

Xander quickly finished his meal, a comfortable silence descending over
the room. Xander caught himself staring back and forth between Spike and
Kat, studying them both, slowly realizing how similar they looked. Same
high, sharp cheekbones, same blazing blue eyes, same scar in the eyebrow,
same air of amused detachment to all going on around them, same faint air
of danger. He pushed the plate aside and stretched.

“So, um, thanks for the meal and all, but why do I have the feeling that’s
not why I’m here.” There, bravado, that was always good.

Kat just laughed, a clear, happy sound. She looked much better, much
calmer, the black hair brushed straight back from her face. “Spike, you
are not a good influence on him.”
Shaking her head, she picked up her wineglass and moved to one of the
couches, the men following her. She patted the space next to her and
Xander automatically sat down.

“No, I wanted to explain things to you myself. If you were with the
others, then, well the Watcher would be telling you things which, while
technically true, aren’t entirely accurate. But why don’t you ask me what
you’re curious about first, that might be easier.” She put the wineglass
on the small end table, absently reaching up to take Spike’s hand. Spike
had moved to stand behind the couch and was resting his hands on her
shoulders.

“Well, I guess, who are you? I know, Katarina de Rien, but, well, um,
what are you, I mean, I figured out that you’re not human and not a
vampire, and I don’t think you are demon and you don’t seem like a witch,”
Xander stopped, blushing.

“That’s an excellent question. I’m an Ancient. That means that I’m older
than time. I’m also immortal.” The blue eyes stared calmly into his, the
answers matter of fact.

“Like Spike,” Xander started, ready to ask what would kill her.

“No, not like Spike. I cannot be killed. No matter what. There is no
power that can destroy me.” She reached over and took another sip of
wine.

“Nothing, no wonder you weren’t worried about Buffy.” Xander let out a
low whistle. “Wow, well, do you have, like, powers or witchcraft?”

“You could say that I have powers,” Kat grinned a little. “Just a bit.”

Spike snorted at that. “Yeah, pet. Like that hurricane that just almost
destroyed Sydney. Had nothing to do with that, I’m sure.”

“That doesn’t count. I was upset.”

Xander looked at her with a little bit of alarm. “Um, well that was my
next question, you kept mentioning how long the flight was, where did you
fly in from?” He thought back to the news coverage on the mysterious
storms that had battered Australia last week. The wind and rain had just
suddenly started, then lasted for a week. As suddenly as it started, it
had stopped two days before. “Was that really you, you did that?”

“Flew in from Sydney. Ashamed to say that I did do that. As I mentioned,
I was a little upset.” She closed her eyes at that, trying to push back
the pain.

“Oh, well, you said something about someone named, named Cassie. Is that
why you were upset, did she,” Xander stopped seeing the pain cross her
face. Impulsively, he reached out, brushing a hand down her arm. “I’m
sorry.”

“Thank you.” Kat swallowed then turned to face Xander, leaving his hand
on her arm. “Yes, she died. She was my lover for sixteen years. She
developed leukemia about a year ago. It was very painful and, in the end,
it was best she died.”

Spike’s hands tightened on her shoulders. He could smell the pain coming
from her, could feel her agony in the corner of his mind that she owned.
So brave, just telling Xander like that.

“Well, please, don’t be mad, but, couldn’t you just, you know, cure her or
something?” He heard the growl start from Spike and moved quickly away.

“Spike, stop it, that’s a good question. Yes and no. Yes, I could. But
Cassie didn’t want me to, she, she wanted to stay with me for the course
of her life. She didn’t want me to be afraid to be without her. And
that’s what curing her would have meant, that I couldn’t be without her.
She would have been with me, but then again, she wouldn’t. I would have
changed a fundamental part of her just to be with me. Nothing would be
the same if I did that.” She ran a finger around the rim of her glass,
following her fingers with her eyes. She had respected Cassie’s wishes.
But it had been close. That last day, as she listened to the labored
breathing, heard the heart slowing, saw the pain, it had been very, very
close. All she needed to do was stretch out a hand, just release a tiny,
tiny stream all that ran through her and she would have Cassie forever.
And Cassie would hate her for it. But it had been close, her hand had
been opening over the center of Cassie’s chest when that last breath was
breathed out.

“Oh,” Xander understood completely. “Like if anything happened to Willow
and I was a vampire I could turn her but she wouldn’t be the same.”

Kat nodded, smiling slightly. Spike had been right about this one.
Deeply empathetic. Could develop that, interesting possibilities there.
“Pretty much, just no demon possession, nothing like that.”

“Speaking of vampires, what’s the deal with you and Spike? I mean, what
was that thing you guys did, you know that whole blood of my blood thing
and why do you have the same scar?” Good, he managed to get it out
calmly. He waited, knowing what would come next.

“Spike is my family. The ‘thing’ as you called it is, well, it’s a
connection ritual. Reestablish the bond. The scar isn’t a scar. It’s a
brand. It marks him as being part of my order.”

Xander’s mouth dropped open at that. “But I thought he was in Angel’s
family.”

The flames shot out of the fireplace before he could react. “Shit, oh
man,” Xander jumped back as the couch caught on fire.

“Sorry, sorry,” Kat called out. Suddenly, the fire stopped and with a
small shake of head she looked around the room. “Spike, you okay back
there?”

“Oh, just lovely, at least I thought to duck when I heard Peaches’s name.”
He slowly picked himself off the floor, a scorch mark on the side of his
face. “Xander, word of advice, don’t ever just say my Sire’s name like
that, tends to upset her.”

Xander merely nodded, shocked. The flames had come straight out and
wrapped around Kat. However, she was completely untouched. **Guess she
does have powers** a hysterical part of his mind noted.

“Bloody hell, what a mess, Spike, let me get that,” she reached up and
rubbed the soot off his cheek. “Xander, you hurt?”

“No, just a little freaked. And the couch is,” he stopped. “Well, the
couch was toast. Not now.”

“Told you I had powers.” Kat settled back down, picking back up her wine
glass. The room was completely restored. Xander carefully settled back
down next to her.

“Believed you before, didn’t have to set things on fire to prove it. Um,
what was it that Giles was going to tell the others that would be true but
not accurate?”

“That since your precious gang had been so kind to my kin here, that
vengeance would be had.” Her voice went cold and Xander flinched back.
She softened her tone and placed her hand on Xander’s leg. “That is the
truth, they will pay.” A cruel smile danced her lips as she thought of
what she would make them do. “The inaccurate part is that all of you will
pay. Xander, you have nothing to fear from me, not now, not ever. You
have been a true friend to William and that will not be forgotten.”

Xander’s eyes lit up a little. “William, huh? So, how long have you and
Spike known each other?” Family, if they were family then she would know
family like secrets. “When did you meet bleach boy, bet you could tell
some stories,” Xander grinned, his mood lifting.

“Met me the night after I was turned.” Xander jumped, Spike had been so
silent that Xander had almost forgotten he was there. He watched as they
exchanged a long look. “Angelus knew she would like me, took me to see
her.”

Those identical blue eyes had darkened at the mention of Angelus and
Xander felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. “That’s how you met?”

“Yes,” Kat said, her eyes still locked with Spike’s. They all sat there
in silence for long moments until Xander suddenly yawned uncontrollably,
breaking the spell.

“Tired, pet?” Spike moved to stand by him, hovering just slightly closer
than necessary. It had been a long night and he was concerned. Xander
wasn’t quite back to full strength.

“Yeah, should get back, car’s at the Magic Box though.” Xander’s eyes
were closed and he didn’t look inclined to move.

“Don’t be ridiculous, there’s a nice room right over there. You’re
staying. The house will be fine for one night.” Kat’s tone of voice left
no room for argument.

“Fine by me,” Xander yawned out. Spike reached out a hand and pulled him
to his feet, following him into the room.

“You all right, luv, I know it’s a lot to take in,” Spike began. Xander
just shook his head.

“No, makes sense somehow, just tired,” He pulled off his shirt and pants
and Spike was treated to a brief glimpse of Xander’s firm body before
Xander crawled under the covers. “Talk tomorrow, there’s a lot more you
aren’t saying,” he began before fading off to sleep. Spike moved over,
pulling the covers up.

“Night, Xander,” he said quietly, tracing a finger down the side of
Xander’s face. He slipped back out into the other room. Kat had turned
off the lights and was sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace.
Spike sat down behind her and pulled her back so she was resting against
his chest.

“So, you love him.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes.” Spike didn’t bother lying. Would have defeated the point of
calling her here and, besides, she would know anyway. He decided to
change the subject, not ready to discuss this yet. “You do realize that
my Sire is going to hear that you’re back.”

“Of course. Didn’t sit there in the middle of the LAX terminal for three
hours for nothing I hope. Someone was sure to see me.” The words were
spoken without a single trace of emotion.

Spike nodded. “Still hate him?”

“Of course.” Now there was heat, a ripple of suppressed rage.

“Fire’s nice.” Spike rested his head on the top of her hair, breathing in
the familiar scent.

“Isn’t it.” Kat moved slightly so that Spike’s head was resting on her
shoulder.

They sat there, lost in memories, both remembering the first time they had
sat together in front of a fire, thinking back to the night they met.

Part Three

London, 1880

The rain poured, drenching all under the pitch black skies. The wind
howled through the streets, driving all but the bravest or stupidest
inside and before a warm fire. The gas lamps cast only a paltry glow,
unable to drive away the chill. The night was vicious and cruel, a
knife’s edge to the air, cutting into those who had the misfortune to be
trapped outside.

The sound of footsteps suddenly echoed down the street as four figures
moved from pool to pool of light. The light reflected off pale skin and
dark hair, drawing out red highlights in the dark blond hair of the man
trailing at the end of the pack, his hand held by the woman in front of
him. His eyes darted to and fro, stunned at the new sensations washing
over him. Everything was so much more alive, so much more real, so much
clearer now. He felt like a blindfold had been yanked off his eyes and he
was finally able to see for the first time. He could hear the
conversations going on behind the closed door, smell the food on the
tables, almost taste the blood that was flowing under the skin of the few
people they had encountered. He licked his lips, the craving growing
strong. He needed it, desired it, it burned in his veins.

“Not yet, no, not yet, going to see my Mistress, lovely Mistress, she will
like you, she will let me keep you,” Dru sang out as she drew him next to
her. They stopped in the street, Dru tilting her face up to look into
William’s eyes. She smiled, seeing the yellow glow roaming over her face.
“Yes, my childe, you will be my childe. Daddy has me, I will have you.”

“Anything you wish,” William replied, leaning down to kiss his new lover.
He suddenly bit down on her lower lip and groaned as he began to lap away
the blood. Suddenly, firm hands yanked him away.

“Not here, people will see.” The rough voice growled in his ear and
William instinctively flinched back, his head dropping down in submission.
Angelus kept his hands firmly on William’s thin shoulders, then dropped
his voice into a husky murmur. “There will time enough for that later,
time is something you never again need fear.”

With that he stepped back, then turned and resumed his place next to
Darla. He picked up the pace and they quickly approached a tall, imposing
house, set slightly back from the road, a gate barring their way. Angelus
simply reached out and pushed the gate open, drawing them all in behind
him. They approached the dark door, arranged in a line behind the
vampire. The only light in the house came from the flickering of
candlelight in the front window. Angelus lifted his hand, then raised the
heavy knocker. Bang. Bang. Bang. The noise resounded in the stillness
of the night. He paused a few seconds, then lifted the knocker again.
Bang. Bang. Bang. He settled back, waiting for the answer.

The door was suddenly yanked open. “Ah, Angelus, and how are you this
evening?” The clear voice cut through the night. William could feel the
warmth pouring out the door, could smell something sweet seeping from the
room revealed behind the small figure.

“Have a present for you. Something Dru found.” He simply stood in the
doorway, making no attempt to enter. “May we come in?” He turned
slightly, casting a hand back to reveal Darla, Dru and William.

“Certainly,” she replied a puzzled expression on her face. It cleared
when she saw William. “Oh, I see. Please, do come in. My home is your
home.” With that, she moved out of the way, allowing them to enter.
Angelus bent down, nearly in a full bow as he pressed a kiss to her lips.

“Mistress, lovely as always, that color suits you,” he murmured in her
ear, turning them slightly so he could watch the expression on Darla’s
face. Darla simply stared at him icily, not rising to the bait.

“Don’t even bother, Angelus, you know that Irish blarney of yours doesn’t
work on me.” Katarina moved over to Darla, running a hand down her arm.
“You look beautiful as always, my dear.”

Darla nodded, then pressed her own kiss to Katarina’s lips. She smiled
slightly as Katarina ran her tongue lightly on her bottom lip, a matching
smile on her face. They heard the low growling start behind them and
broke apart, Katarina turning to raise an eyebrow to the vampire.

“Never start games you can’t win, haven’t you learned that by now?” She
turned to Dru, her expression softening as she looked into the dark, mad
eyes. “And you, my sweet, you look positively radiant.”

Dru smiled down, her skin tingeing the palest pink at the compliment.
“Oh, Mistress, it is so right now. I have found him, found my childe, he
is so pure, so right. William, come here, meet the Mistress, she will
like you, she must like you,” Dru suddenly spun back around, her eyes wide
and frightened. “You will like him, Mistress, you will, I know it.” She
pulled William forward, cooing softly. “So pretty, mine, all mine.”

William gave himself over to the tug of Dru’s hands. Those hands that had
held him as he suddenly woke that night before, terrified at the state in
which he found himself. The hands that had brushed through his hair,
calming him during those first panicked moments. The hands that had
pulled away his clothes, stripping him bare. The hands that had stroked
him, making him harder and harder. The hands that had cradled his face in
her hands as she slowly slid down his body, finally enveloping him in deep
inside her womb. The hands that had wiped the tears away afterwards. The
hands that had held his mouth to the neck of the flowergirl she had given
to him, teaching him what to do.

“Mistress, this is William.” For once, Dru’s voice was even and her gaze
steady.

Katarina simply looked William over from head to toe, taking in his
clothing, the corner of his glasses still peeking out from a pocket. The
dark blond hair, the high cheekbones, the blazing yellow eyes.

William started when Dru suddenly squeezed his hand. “Concentrate,
please, show her your other face, the one I first saw.”

He nodded, still habitually drawing in a breath as he focused on letting
his human face come to the fore. It was difficult, but after a few
moments, he felt the fangs retreat, felt his forehead smooth out. He ran
his tongue on the inside of his teeth, missing the sharp edges of the
fangs. He had a moment of panic, what if he couldn’t change back, but it
passed as Dru suddenly dropped his hand and began clapping merrily.

“Oh, very good, I’m so proud of my childe.” She kissed William quickly on
the cheek then turned back to Katarina. “You see now why I had to take
him. He was so sad, so lonely, I couldn’t leave him be.”

“Yes, Dru, I see that. He is lovely.” Katarina slowly turned back to
Angelus and Darla. “May I speak with you in the other room for a moment?”
There was the faintest trace of anger in her words. They nodded and
Katarina returned her attention to Dru. “Precious, I must talk to Angelus
and Darla, you stay here with William, we will be back shortly.” She
watched carefully until Dru began to nod. She turned on her heel and
stalked into the next room, the vampires trailing closely behind.

William stood silently, straining to hear the words floating out to him.
It was so strange to be able to hear like this, so strange and wonderful.
Phrases slowly drifted into his consciousness.

“When did she do this?” “No one was with her,” “You know that she
cannot” “If you are certain,” disjointed portions floated out, but it was
always her voice, the voice of the blue eyed woman. He could smell the
power on her, it intoxicated and scared him at the same time.

Katarina whirled around, the fire snapping behind her. “A childe, she
took herself a childe and never of you noticed. When did she do this?
Just what were the two of you doing? No one was with her? You know that
she cannot be left alone for long.” She began pacing back and forth, the
flames following her motions. The vampires reflexively took a step back
as she paced towards them, fury rippling in her eyes. “You knew that you
would have to take constant care when you took her as yours, Angelus. Did
you forget about that, off playing with Darla?” Darla let a smirk slip
across her face. It was quickly gone as Katarina slapped her, hard,
snapping her head back. “And you, did you put this idea in her head,
where did she come up with this?” Katarina stepped back, a hand creeping
up to push a lock of hair out of her eyes.

“Mistress, no, I would never,” Darla gasped out, pressing into a corner.
“She said nothing, not even in all her ramblings, we didn’t know. She
slipped away from us last night, she was only gone a few moments, I swear.
It was done before we could stop her. She wouldn’t let him go, wouldn’t
let him out of her grasp.”

Katarina just stared at her, then turned back to Angelus. “This is your
problem. How do you propose to solve it?”

“I will take him as mine.” Angelus stared back, willing himself to match
her gaze.

Her eyes narrowed at that. “Really. You would take on another childe?”
She turned her back to him and paced slowly back and forth, reaching out
with her senses. She slowed, probing at the emotions running in the next
room, feeling the passion and rage burning there. A slow smile crossed
her face. She knew now why Dru had acted as she had. There was a method
to this madness. The fire that raged in Dru’s new toy was brighter than
almost any she had ever encountered, mind and heart warring for control.
Light and darkness in equal parts. Limitless potential and an exquisite
capacity for pain. This, this would be interesting. She turned back
around, settling her face into a calm mask. “If you are certain, then why
not,” the words accompanied by a shrug.

“It does not seem that it will be that difficult. I have seen him around
town. He is nothing, just a poet. And a bad one at that. I do not know
what Dru was thinking, taking him. But I will take him as mine. The
responsibility will fall on me.” Angelus smiled slightly. “I do not
expect that I will have to worry about him long. Probably won’t last a
week.”

Katarina suddenly laughed. “Oh, Angelus, you just don’t understand, do
you? You think that you will be able to simply break him to your will.
Fine. He is yours. Do him right.” She turned and opened the door,
stepping back to allow Darla and Angelus pass in front of her. “Dru, come
here.” Dru obediently came over, licking the blood off her lips, William
standing with eyes slightly glazed behind her.

Reaching out, Katarina took Dru’s hands. “Dru, listen to me carefully.
Daddy is going to take William as his childe as well, it is for the best.
This way you can just enjoy him, not worry about anything, just let him be
with you.” She smoothed a hand down Dru’s hair, trying to ensure that Dru
stayed focused on her words alone. “He won’t take your childe away, just
help. Do you understand?”

Dru nodded, her eyes unfathomable pools of blackness. “Yes, Mistress. Do
you like him?”

Katarina pulled her into a quick embrace. “Yes, very much. I need to
speak to him now, then he will be yours again.” She stepped back,
allowing Dru to turn and pull William to her. Dru led William into the
library then kissed him on the cheek, smiling and exiting.

William looked around the room, unconsciously stepping over to the shelves
and running his hand reverently over the spines. The cases ran from the
floor to the ceiling high above. Every inch was crammed full of books and
there were yet more piled in every corner. He leaned closer, the heady
scent of the words filling him. He suddenly pulled back, instinctively
growling. No, this was part of his past. It had nothing to do with who
he was now. He growled louder as an unruly hand still gently caressed the
leather on the spine of the volume before him.

“Difficult, isn’t it?” The quiet words sounded in his ear and he turned,
startled. He hadn’t heard her move. “Trying to resolve who you were with
who are you. Where one ends and the other begins.”

William just stared down, uncertain as to what he was to do, what to say.
Familiar blue eyes stared back at him, waiting patiently for an answer.
“Yes,” he finally sighed, giving in to the confusion raging through him.
“I feel so different now, so free, but I can still feel who I was, and I
don’t understand,” he stopped when she placed a hand on his arm. His eyes
shot open as the power whipped through him. He couldn’t turn away from
those eyes, no matter how desperately he tried, no matter how much he
needed to. He felt like he was being laid bare before her, no secrets
left inside. He could hear her heartbeat, was still a little shocked at
the silence in the space where his echoing beat should have returned.
Finally, she pulled away, only to reach down and take him by the hand.
She led them to the low bench in front of the fire, turning to face him.

“Listen to me and listen carefully, I will only tell you this once.
Angelus has agreed to take on the duty of raising you as his childe. As
you may have noticed, Drusilla, while perfect in her way, is not stable
enough for such responsibility. I know you don’t have any idea about what
all this entails, but, believe me, she is not able to raise you right.
Angelus can. So, from now on, he will be your Sire. You are to heed his
words. That does not mean you must simply do as he says,” she began to
smile at the thought. “Not that you would even if I said so. You have
such depths in you that you have never even realized, such power and glory
waiting to be claimed. Angelus will teach you well.”

She stood and began to pace again, her hands twisting over one another.
“You have such passion residing in you, I fear it will burn you away.”
She stopped, suddenly reaching down and grasping his chin, forcing him to
meet her eyes. “You wear your heart on your sleeve, there for all to see.
You must not do that, you cannot do that any longer. Find some way to
hide, some other person to be, at least until you grow stronger. And you
will grow stronger. I can see that clearly.” She released her grip,
taking a step back. “A word of advice. Watch your heart. Dru is already
residing there. Do not give it to Angelus as well. He will rip it out
and hand it back to you, again and again and again. Beware.”

William nodded slowly, drinking in the words. “Why, why are you telling
me this?” He was startled by the sound of her laughter spilling down.

“Because you interest me. And there is not much that interests me these
days. I will be watching to see what becomes of you, see what you do. Do
not be afraid to become what you are. You were born to this, it is your
destiny. Do not hide. You can be so pure. It is all there, all there
waiting for you.” She settled down on the bench next to him.

He turned, needing to face her. He could feel her heartbeat, smell her
blood. Unconsciously he bent down, fangs descending, an arm suddenly
snaking around her waist. With speed he had never suspected he possessed,
he pressed his teeth to her neck. He pressed down, only to find that he
could not break the skin. She just laughed and pushed him away.

“As I said, you interest me. Be glad that is so, if I had not stopped
you, you would now be dead.” Katarina carefully pushed his head away,
trailing a finger along the ridges on his brow. “Lovely, just lovely.
Dru always did have taste.”

William bent his head, ashamed and confused. “Did I do something wrong,
I’ve only, only,” he stopped as the old, familiar feeling of embarrassment
washed over him. “Not sure why I did that.”

“Don’t apologize. Don’t ever apologize for who you are. If you remember
nothing else, remember this. It is your nature, it is who and what you
are. I stopped you only because this is one of the reasons you need to
heed your Sire. They should have explained. I am not human, I am
something, well, something else. You cannot taste my blood. My blood is
death to you. That’s the only reason I stopped you. Actually, that was
rather impressive, I take it you haven’t yet taken your own victim?” She
waited for the hesitant shake of his head. “Time to change that.”

Katarina moved over to the door, yanking it open, the veil of protection
she had erected disappearing into mist. She had wanted their conversation
to be private. “Angelus, it is time to start your duties. Your childe
needs to feed. Take him. Teach him.”

The vampire moved quickly to collect William, leading him from the room.
They moved to the door, Dru stopping to drop a quick kiss on Katarina’s
cheek.

“Good night, precious, you have chosen well.” Katarina stood in the
doorway, watching them stalk into the night, admiring the picture they
made. She watched as William turned, catching her gaze, walking slightly
sideways, never looking away until they turned the corner. “Oh, Angelus,
you have no idea what you’ve done.” She closed the door, fastening it
tightly shut.

His face slammed into the wall and he heard the bones shatter in his
cheek. “What the blazes were you thinking, going after those people
there, in public, in front of everyone?” Another loud snarl and he was
tossed to the other side of the room, striking it hard with his back. He
looked back up, unwilling to drop his gaze.

“I wanted them, decided to have them. I bloody had them before anyone
saw, what is your problem?” Spike was amazed at how strong his voice was,
how steady and firm. Inside, he was shaking.

Angelus just picked him up by the throat, holding him in the air.
“Seriously, William, do you even think at all? Have you not paid
attention to a thing I’ve said?”

“Stop calling me that,” Spike managed to grind out, his vision beginning
to darken from the pain.

“What, William,” Angelus sneered out, drawing out the syllables. “What do
you want me to call you, Spike, stupid name, why would I ever call you
that?” He dropped Spike suddenly to the ground, drinking in the moans
coming from the body beneath him.

“Because I said so.” Spike suddenly kicked out a leg, catching Angelus
square on the knee, dropping him to the ground. He used the momentary
distraction to pounce on his Sire, bashing his head on the ground. “Don’t
want to use that nancy boy name any more, need something manly and cruel.
Besides,” he reached out and grabbed the railroad spike. "Seems
appropriate after tonight.” It had taken three months, but he had finally
tracked down the bastard who had ridiculed him in front of Cecily a
lifetime before. He had gotten his wish when Spike slammed the spike
through his skull.

Angelus reached up and shoved Spike away. Spike just rolled with the blow
and landed in a low crouch on the other side of the large room. He slowly
stood, never taking his eyes off Angelus as they began to circle one
another, each matching the other’s feints. Suddenly, so quickly he could
not see it, Angelus spun a kick at his face. Spike just managed to flinch
his head back in time to miss the blow. He ducked into the small space
left open by the attack and grabbed his Sire’s arm, throwing him over his
shoulder.
Angelus simply held Spike’s arm as he fell, dragging the slim figure down
on top of him.

“I told you to leave them alone, why must you always defy me, time to
teach you a lesson,” Angelus panted out, pinning Spike’s arms to his
sides. He stood, yanking the struggling Spike with him, dragging the
other vampire over to one of the pillars running down the center of the
room. He slammed Spike’s head into the pillar, knocking him unconscious.
Angelus walked over the still body, grabbing the rope coiled in one
corner. He roughly tied Spike to the pillar, arms tied behind him, legs
strapped tightly together. He looked the situation over, satisfied, then
slapped the still unconscious vampire.

“Time to take your medicine.” Spike opened his eyes slowly, taking stock
of the situation. He was tied to a pillar with a very angry Sire before
him. He licked his lips, pupils darkening in anticipation of what was to
come.

Angelus drew an arm back and slapped him. Then again. And again. And
again. Over and over until Spike’s head was swimming from being knocked
first one way then another. “Act like an infant, I’ll treat you like an
infant. I know you understand simple commands. What was so hard about
‘No William, you not yet, wait until they go into the alley’ Something
too hard about that for you, you couldn’t wait another half minute. Lack
even that amount of control?” The words hammered into him as Angelus
moved to stand next to him, reaching around to run a hand down his face.
“Can’t wait, can you, haven’t learned a thing in these last few months.
It’s not all just blood and violence, no, there can be so much more.”
With that Angelus gently ran a hand down his side, pressing closely into
him. “Stealth can be so much better.” Spike let out a hoarse scream of
pain as Angelus suddenly slid the knife he had concealed in the palm of
his hand into Spike’s side. “You see, never saw that coming.”

Angelus reached back, cutting the rope holding Spike’s arms free, but
leaving his feet bound. Spike collapsed to the floor, blood pouring out
down his side. He tried to pull away but was stopped by the ropes.
Angelus stalked over and kicked him in the ribs, purposefully striking the
precise location of the wound, tearing it open again. “Never learn, never
stop to think, what am I going to do with you.” A cruel smile crossed his
face. “Yes, what I am going to do indeed.”

Spike just panted as he heard the sound of his feet being freed. He
concentrated, trying to gather his strength. He felt his shirt being
ripped away, followed quickly by his pants. He was soon naked, exposed
and blood drenched on the floor. He closed his eyes, waiting for the
blow.

His head snapped back as when he felt the cool tongue begin cleaning his
wound. “Whatever I am to do with you, childe, you drive me so mad,” the
words caressed across his skin, drawing an involuntary shudder. A
possessive hand spread across the small of his back, the broad expanse
nearly spanning the breadth of his waist. “So mad,” a sigh across his
skin as the tongue lapped up the blood, tracing the lines of his ribs.
Spike closed his eyes, concentrating on nothing but the feel, the
gentleness of the touch as Angelus began to run his fingers up and down
Spike’s side. He heard the sound of Angelus’s shirt being pulled over his
head, the loud thud, thud of the heavy boots hitting the floor, the scrape
of leather as the belt was pulled out.

Angelus lifted his arm back and brought the belt down hard across Spike’s
ass. The skin always turned that lovely shade of red, so bright against
the pale flesh. He leaned back again, putting more force into this blow.
“Yes, need to beat some sense into you, teach you a lesson.” His eyes
blazed bright as he set to work, scoring the flesh with mark after mark.

Spike clenched his jaw, trying desperately not to cry out, not to give
Angelus that satisfaction. His arms began to shake but still he did not
move. He fell into his mind, his thoughts spinning back to Dru, to the
feel of her hair curled under his nose, the scent of it filling his
senses. Still he could feel the pain rip through him. He knew that
Angelus had not yet begun, that the end was not near. He concentrated
harder, hearing the sound of Dru’s voice saying she loved him, that he was
hers. The pain began to overwhelm him and he whimpered, just a little,
just enough to keep the screams from letting free. Further down, further
back, reaching for some place of safety. Finally, he slipped fully away,
into his most secret place. The sound of flames rippling, a gentle touch
on his face, clear blue eyes, so like his own. He slowly lifted his head
back up, strength flowing back into him as he could faintly hear her
laughter.

Angelus stepped back, feasting on the vision below. Spike laid out bare,
red from the wounds he had given him. He reached over and picked up the
small bowl of water from the table behind him. Kneeling down, he gently
began bathing the wounds, a calming purr rumbling out. “There now, not
that bad, if you would only listen.” He leaned down and began to kiss his
way along each of the stripes, bathing them with long swipes of his
tongue. “Just do as I say, it would all be just fine.” He kissed his way
up Spike’s spine, lavishing profligate care on each ridge, his hands
firmly on Spike’s waist.

A shudder ran unwillingly through Spike’s body as he arched into the cool
mouth. He craved this nearly as much as blood, the care and attention
that was poured into him. Angelus was so distracted, so busy trying to
deal with Darla and Dru that he had little time to give to Spike. But if
Spike could just anger him, just bring his blood to a boil, then he
received all the attention he could stand. It always ended the same way,
first the punishment then the pleasure, the pain and ecstasy merging into
one haze of pleasure.

“Just listen to me, wouldn’t be necessary,” cool fingers began to press
into him and he spread his legs wider, allowing easier access. A hand
reached down to grasp him, moving in time to the fingers inside him.
Sharp fangs sliced the skin at the base of his neck and Spike was unable
to suppress the moan that it wrenched from him. Angelus leaned down and
began to suck at the wound, slowly drawing the blood into his mouth. He
leaned down, nudging Spike’s head with his own until Spike turned, just
enough so that Angelus could reach his lips. They kissed frantically, the
taste of the blood inflaming them both. Wrenching away, Angelus pulled
back, positioning himself between Spike’s legs. Without warning, he
slammed fully into Spike, relishing the scream his action produced.
Finally, finally his childe had broken, his stubborn pride giving way. He
pumped hard, giving neither of them a respite, driving them to completion.
He leaned on Spike’s back, draping him weight completely on the pale
body. He nuzzled into Spike until Spike turned, baring his neck,
submitting completely. Angelus sank his fangs in, pulling hard. Their
climaxes hit them both as Angelus began to drink, rocking them back and
forth. Finally, they collapsed to the ground as Spike’s arms finally gave
way.

“Learned your lesson, childe? I always do know best,” Angelus grunted as
he slowly pulled out. Spike didn’t reply, sprawled exhausted on the
floor. Angelus quickly pulled his clothes back on, them stopped, tossing
Spike’s shredded clothing onto him.

“Get dressed. Dru is waiting for you.” He stalked out of the room,
leaving Spike bleeding on the floor. Spike just lay there for long
moments, the sound of flames roaring in his mind.

Part Four

Sunnydale – present

Xander opened his eyes slowly, a little dazed. There was something wrong
with the light in his bedroom. Even after rearranging the room after Anya
left, the light still came from the west. Now, now it was muted and dim
and the faint glow seemed to be coming from the east. He blinked a few
times, trying to sort out the strange noises. Not his bed, then where?
He sat up suddenly, looking around in panic for a moment before
remembering where he was. That’s right, still at the hotel. He vaguely
remembered stumbling to bed, exhausted after the night’s events, still a
little weak and sore from the accident. He looked around slowly, until
his eyes lit on the small clock on the dresser next to the bed. 10:07.

“Shit,” Xander yelped as he leapt from the bed. “Oh shit, oh shit,”
muttered over and over as he staggered around the room, trying to find his
clothes. He was late for work, no, really, really late for work and that
wasn’t going to go over well. He hopped on one foot, trying to pull his
pants on while simultaneously tying his boot when he suddenly sat down
hard on the edge of the bed, laughter overtaking him. He would be late
for work, very late for work, if, in fact, he had work today. However,
being as it was Sunday, he actually was about to be very, very early. He
laughed harder, picturing the look on Spike’s face if he had seen this
little display. It was bad enough when Spike had taken to moving all his
clocks and watches ahead one minute a day until he had finally caught on
the morning he was an hour early. This would amuse the vampire to no end.

Xander slowly stopped laughing as he thought about Spike, thought about
what had happened the night before. So, Spike was family to an ancient
immortal who obviously hated Angel and who had some kind of voodoo powers
and who was not happy about how the gang had treated Spike. A part of him
was worried at what she was going to do while another part, the larger
part, was actually glad that someone was finally going to make them pay.
He was the only one who had accepted Spike. Xander still didn’t get why
the others didn’t realize that Spike had long since stopped helping them
because he was forced to. It had been over a year and a half since they
had been forced to beg, bribe, wheedle or threaten Spike to come on patrol
with them and Spike had quietly saved all their lives more times than he
could count. Just the week before Spike had reached out and yanked a
demon away just as it was bringing a sword down towards Buffy’s head. And
what thanks did he get, just another threat to stake him when the demon’s
blood splattered across Buffy’s new shoes.

Xander yawned, then made his way to the bathroom, longing for a hot shower
to ease the ache in his shoulder. His eyes opened a little at the
opulence of it, but he found, to his surprise, that he was quickly
becoming used to such luxury. He looked around, noticing the thick, white
towels and the bottles of expensive shampoos and soaps. No paper wrapped
bars of soap in this joint. He turned on the water in the large walk in
shower and adjusted the stream until it was nice and hot, steam filling
the room. He stripped down and walked under the spray, the heat loosening
his muscles. He quickly washed his hair and his body, then moved to stand
under the spray, enjoying the feel of the water hitting his flesh,
allowing him to lose himself again in his thoughts of Spike. Xander felt
his stomach twist a little the way it always did when he thought about all
the times he could have defended the vampire but had chosen not to, not
wanting to further isolate himself from his friends. **Some friends,
Spike’s been more loyal to you than they ever were** Xander snorted at
the thought. It was true but that didn’t make it any easier to accept.
Spike was his best friend, his closest friend, hell, they were practically
a couple they were together so much.

Xander groaned as the thought crossed him mind. A couple. The subject
that he avoided thinking about at all costs, the thought that he tried to
push out of his mind only to have it bubble up, unwanted, at the most
inopportune times. He wanted them to be a couple. The first time he
woke, panting and sticky, the feel of Spike’s mouth on him still vivid
from his dream, he had been stunned, had been forced to face his feelings.
Sure, if forced to be honest with himself, he had always noticed men,
always been attracted to men. Just, he had been attracted to women more
and there had never really been a guy that he wanted to take to bed,
wanted to see just what it was like. Until he met Brian about a month
after Anya had left. Spike had been off somewhere, on one on his periodic
drunken binges, and Xander had met Brian in a bar. They got drunk, went
back to Brian’s and one thing led to another until Xander found himself on
his knees, sucking Brian off, found himself flat on his back, knees hooked
over Brian’s shoulders, stretched and filled and entered, the feel of it
burning through him, found himself kneeling over Brian, pushing his way
into that tight, tight body. They hadn’t really said anything afterwards,
just fallen asleep and Xander had left the next morning, not even knowing
Brian’s last name. Xander sent another quick prayer of thanks to all that
was holy that he had still had those condoms in his wallet that night, bad
enough to have a one night stand, worse to be unsafe about it. He was
stupid but not suicidal.

Since then, he had forced himself to admit that he liked it, that in all
honesty he had gone looking for it, the sheer physical release of it
sublime. Alone in bed at night, he would lie there and remember the feel
of it, the drunken lust which washed over them, the way it tasted when
Brian came in his mouth. He wanted that with Spike, burned for it. Had
to be very, very careful not to let it show, not to let Spike catch the
faintest hint of how Xander desired him. But it wasn’t just lust. He
liked Spike, he enjoyed Spike’s company, he was happy and content when
Spike was there, anxious and lonely when Spike was gone. When he regained
consciousness in the hospital, all he wanted was to feel Spike’s cool
touch on his skin. Xander leaned his head against the cool marble of the
shower and moaned, letting the water beat down on him. Who was he
kidding, he was in love with the bleached wonder. From time to time, more
and more in the past few weeks, he had caught Spike staring at him with an
odd look on his face, some look that made Xander’s knees weak and frayed
his control. A look that made him want to simply grab the vampire and
kiss him stupid, to hell with the consequences.

But now, now Spike had Kat back. Xander slowly banged his head against
the wall, ignoring the pain. **Be happy for him, be happy for him, if you
love him, you want him to be happy, be happy for him** Xander banged his
head in time to the chant in his mind, trying to will himself to be happy,
trying to ignore the jealousy gnawing at his insides. He knew how lonely
Spike was, no matter how much Spike tried to hide it, and now here was his
family back. He wouldn’t need Xander anymore. Sighing, Xander turned off
the taps then dried himself off, grimacing slightly as he slid into
yesterday’s clothes. He needed to go home, wanted to change, wanted to
just have some time to think about all that he had learned, wanted a
chance to get used to being without Spike once again.

He carefully made his way across the living room, past the small dining
area, noticing that the curtains were drawn, blacking out the sun. He
paused for a moment in the door of the other bedroom, letting his eyes
adjust to the darkness, gathering up his courage to see Spike in bed with
her. He took a few tentative steps into the room, then stopped, staring
down at what he saw. Kat was curled on her side under the blankets, arms
and legs wrapped around a pillow, comforter tucked tightly under her chin,
dark hair swirled around her. Her mouth was slightly open and Xander
could faintly hear her breathe, the blankets moving ever so slightly up
and down. Spike was sprawled fully clothed on top of the covers next to
her, an arm flung over her head with his other hand just barely resting on
the curve of her waist. Xander just watched for a moment, feeling a
weight lift from his chest. He realized that he had just simply assumed
they would be wrapped in one another, had assumed they were lovers simply
from the kiss Spike had given her the night before. He figured her
description of Spike as family wouldn't stop them, after all, Xander knew
that Dru was technically Spike’s sire and look at all the years they were
together. To say nothing of Spike and Angel. But it was obvious that
nothing more than sleep had happened in that room. He cleared his throat,
trying to wake only Spike. Neither of them gave any indication that they
heard him approach.

“Spike,” Xander whispered, trying to keep his voice as low as possible.
Kat still looked exhausted, blue shadows forming under her eyes. “Spike,
hey, wake up a sec.”

“Heard you come in, wondered what you wanted other than staring,” Spike
lifted his head slightly and turned those lovely eyes at Xander. “What is
it, whelp, be quick, she’s still tired.” Spike had heard Xander enter the
room, all senses alert even in sleep to any possible threat. He had
watched him out of the slit of one eye, savoring a chance to simply stare
at Xander, wet hair and all.

“Just, I need to get going, have some stuff I have to do, and, well,
didn’t want to leave without telling you. Besides, my car’s at the Magic
Box. You don’t happen to remember if the bus route comes this way do
you?” Xander settled down gently on the bed, careful not to disturb Kat.
For some reason seeing her stretched out, looking so vulnerable was
stirring his protective instincts, even knowing nothing could hurt her.

“Don’t think so, I’ll just take you back,” Spike sat up, stretching a
little.

“Um, Spike, it’s the middle of the day, that might not be the best idea,”
Xander replied, turning away slightly, not wanting to be caught staring,
hoping against hope that Spike couldn’t smell what that did to him. “I’ll
just call Willow or somebody to come get me.”

“No, that wouldn’t be a good idea, just get Kat to take you,” Spike shut
his eyes for a moment at the thought of Kat waking to find any of that
group there.

“Spike, no, don’t wake her,” Xander started, watching as Spike leaned down
and began cooing in her ear.

“Kat,” he called out, stretching out the name. “Kat, wake up, Xander’s
leaving, Kat.” There was no response. Growling a little, Spike tugged on
her hair, voice getting stronger. “Kat, get up.” Still no response.
With a shrug, he reached back a hand and slapped her on the ass.

“Ow, what was that for, I was awake, just ignoring you,” came the muffled
reply as Kat burrowed deeper into the pillow.

“I know, that’s why I did it.” Spike just grinned down at her, tugging
her over onto her back, ignoring her groan of protest. “Xander has to go,
left his car behind. So, get up, put some decent clothes on and drive him
back.”

“No,” came the reply as she pulled the pillow over her head. “You go.”

“Can’t, daylight and whatnot.” Spike reached out and grabbed his
cigarettes off the nightstand and lit up.

“No, comfy, not gonna move, where’s that stupid phone,” she muttered, a
pale hand reaching out until she found what she wanted.

Xander watched, amazed, as she dialed a number then snaked the phone under
the pillow with her.

“Yes, concierge please. Thank you.” The voice was calm and
authoritative, all traces of sleep gone. “Yes, who is this? Stephen,
this is Katarina de Rien, suite 1412. I need someone to drive a friend
back to his car here in town. Can you please arrange that? Yes, yes,
that would be fine, certainly, most appreciated. You have a lovely day.”
She rolled over enough to drop the phone back on the hook, then opened a
bleary eye to stare at Xander.

“Driver will be here in about five minutes, would take you myself, but
driving is not such a good idea right now. Spike, why don’t you wait with
him?” With that she settled back down and appeared to drift right back to
sleep.

Xander rose off the bed as Spike dropped off the other side, following
Xander out of the room. Spike pulled the bedroom door shut and they stood
there, staring awkwardly at one another for a minute.

“Well, I guess I’ll just be going soon,” Xander started, unsure of what to
say.

“Sure, mate.” Spike suddenly became very occupied with his cigarette,
trying to blow rings in the air. He growled at himself, infuriated that
he didn’t know what to say.

“So, can I, well, call you later,” Xander flushed as he heard his voice,
heard how tentative and unsure he sounded. He braced himself for the
mocking response sure to come.

Spike just shot a glare his direction. “Bloody well better call to tell
me you got back safe,” the words were growled out, yellow flickering in
his eyes. Sending Xander off with some stranger, what was Kat thinking?
Sure, she had marked Xander, placing him under her protection, but still.
This was the Hellmouth. Spike shook himself mentally. **Losing your grip
there, he’ll be fine, just going a few minutes to his car, she wouldn’t
let him leave if she thought there would be a problem**

Xander nodded, heart warming at Spike’s words. “Sure, not a problem.
Maybe, well, maybe you could come over tonight, bring her with you of
course. I, well, I would like to show her the house.” Xander felt a
little foolish at that, what was his house compared to this. He looked
over at Spike, a firm resolution gripping his heart. She was Spike’s
family, she was important to Spike. That meant that he would be nice,
would try to make her like him, maybe then she would share, just a little.

Spike nodded, “She’ll like that.” They stood together quietly, simply
enjoying the other’s presence until they heard the knock on the door.
Spike followed Xander to the door, not wanting to see him go. “I’m
serious, call when you get back to the house.”

Xander looked back, smiling slightly at the concern in Spike’s voice.
“Will do, see you later.” The door clicked shut behind him and Spike
stared for a second then made his way back to the bedroom.

“He’s perfectly safe, stop being such a pansy.”

“Am not,” Spike plopped onto the bed, lying on his back and staring at
the ceiling. Kat turned over and raised on one elbow staring at Spike.

“Got it real bad. When I wake up, we’re going to have a chat.” She
settled back down, turning on her side again.

=======================================================================
“So, I take it that beautiful boy is the reason that you called and made
me fly my sorry, sad, wanting to curl up into a little ball and just be
miserable because my beautiful lover just died ass over an ocean, an
ocean, mind you, to see you?” Kat looked up from buttering her toast.
Ahh, she loved high class hotels. Call room service at 7:30 at night,
tell them you want breakfast and they didn’t even bat an eye.

“Well, I didn’t know that Cassie died now, did I, and, might I add, you
seem to be taking that just a little bit too well,” Spike arched an
eyebrow at her over his own glass of blood.

“Long story, tell you later,” Kat grinned back at him.

“No, long story, tell me now,” Spike replied putting the glass down.
“Katarina, you were with her for sixteen years, you almost blew Sydney off
the face of the earth and I know for a fact you haven’t lost control like
that since that unfortunate incident in Hamburg in 1912. You were crying
your eyes out last night and now you act like nothing is wrong? Forgive
me if I seem a little less than convinced.” Spike reached out to spear a
sausage. Always did love sausage. An evil grin crossed his face. Pun
definitely intended.

“No, short version. When Cassie got so sick, she made me promise to let
her go. Fought about it for about six months until she won. Never could
deny her anything. Then, two weeks ago when it was apparent that this was
it, she made me promise her one last thing. I could have nine days. Nine
days to be as sad and miserable and lonely and angry and anything else I
wanted. But after that, then I had to be happy again. Or pretend to be.
She made me swear. Said I couldn’t stay with her if I didn’t promise. So
I promised. And you know I can’t break a promise to my mate. Nine days
are up now. Time to pretend to be happy.” Kat looked up, smiling.
“Actually isn’t as hard as I thought. Every time I smile I know it would
make her happy. And that makes it easier.”

Spike chewed slowly, turning the words over in his mind. Six months ago,
that’s when Kat had first contacted him. She knew then that Cassie was
all but gone. “I see, so that’s the plan, just pretend to be happy until
you are.”

“I guess, it was her plan not mine. And you, my sweet, are stalling. Why
did you call me? What was so bad it made you call on the bond?” She
pinned him down with her gaze, knowing he would be unable to break the
contact.

“Wasn’t sure you would come,” Spike hesitated, not really wanting to talk
about this. “Just, Xander got hurt.” The words were barely audible.

“I know, I seem to remember someone babbling on and on about it. What was
so awful, he seems fine now, he was fine at the time,” Kat paused, brow
creasing in thought. “What was so awful about it?”

“He was hurt. I could have lost him.” Spike looked down at the table,
feeling tears form in his eyes. “I love him.” There, the words were
finally said, finally out in the open, no taking them back now.

“Well, that’s fairly obvious to anyone with half a brain, why did it upset
you so much you had to call on me?” Kat moved to kneel next to Spike, a
hand running up his arm. “What’s so bad that you won’t tell me?” When
they had finally started speaking again six months ago they picked right
up where they left off, complete candor, absolute honesty, nothing unsaid
between them.

“Because I don’t know how to love him.” Spike looked down, turning
wounded eyes to meet hers. “How do you do it, Kat, how do you love them,
how do you give your heart away when you know they are just going to, to,”
Spike stopped, unable to say the word.

“Die?” Kat watched as Spike flinched at the sound of the word. “Ah, pet,
is that it?” She stood, folding her arms around him and drawing his head
to her chest. “It’s simple, really, you just have to decide. What hurts
worse, having them, knowing they are going to leave, or never having them
at all? Not a hard decision to make when it comes right down to it.
Every day I spent with Cassie was one day I can think back and treasure
later.” She stroked his hair, pressing his ear to her heart.

“But doesn’t it hurt when they go?” Spike whispered, listening to the
soothing sound of her heartbeat.

“Of course, but, hurts worse without them. You get over it eventually and
then you just remember how much you loved them. William, it’s worth it,
truly. I would never trade the pleasure to be without the pain.” She
felt Spike nod into her chest.

“Even Thomas?” He went still, stunned at his boldness.

Her hands stopped their stroking for one moment then he felt them move
again, though now they were shaking slightly. “Especially Thomas. Though
that’s different and you know it.”

“I know,” Spike pulled away, letting out a huge sigh. “I just don’t know
what to do, and, well, I missed you.” He reached out and took her hand.
“I’m sorry, you know, I never should have said those things, I didn’t mean
it.”

“I know. I knew then, just, angry. And I can’t tell you what to do.
Well, not entirely, I can tell you this, you need to go talk to him,
explain things. He’s worried I’m going to take you away,” Kat replied,
pulling back slightly. “Go on, go to him, I know you want to, have to
say, I was impressed when he called this morning, only took, what, forty
minutes to establish that he was home.”

“Bint,” Spike smirked at her, grateful that she was trying to ease the
tension. “Had things to discuss.”

“Oh, yes, like, let’s see, what was the big debate, which is better on rye
bread, chunky peanut butter or smooth. Anyone listening would think that
you kept him on the phone just to hear the sound of his voice,” Kat moved
back to her seat, grabbing a piece of sausage herself.

“Shut up,” Spike growled out. “So, join us later?”

“If you want, call the mobile and I’ll drop over. Keys are on the
counter, get out.”

Spike dropped a kiss on her cheek and stalked out the door, anxious to get
to Xander.
==========================================================================

“Spike, hey, where’s Katarina?” Xander pulled the door open and ushered
Spike into the house. He had spent the day cleaning, making sure that
everything was shiny and that the house no longer smelled like a guy lived
there.

“Said to call if you wanted her to come over later, wanted to talk to you
first though,” Spike moved to the refrigerator, pulling out two bottles of
beer. He opened them quickly, then handed one over.

“About what?” Xander asked, trying to drive back his pleasure at getting
some time alone with Spike.

“About why I never told you about her before,” Spike spun the bottle cap
around on the counter.

“Yeah, was wondering about that,” Xander said softly. He went quiet,
trying to remain still. It was rare when Spike volunteered any
information about himself, especially sober and Xander hadn’t wanted to
ask.

“Well,” a crooked smile as Spike looked up, “never really came up, haven’t
seen her in eight years.”

“Because she’s been in Australia, must be hard for you to travel that far,
what, would you fly in the cargo hold or something,” Xander started,
nodding wisely. He had thought about this during the day.

Spike let out a bitter laugh. “No, not that, although that is part of it.
No, we had a bit of a spat.” He snorted again. **Bit of an
understatement there, lucky she let you live**

“About what,” Xander said, fascinated. Spike was never this open, this
must be important to him.

“Depends on who you ask. Ask her and she’ll tell you it’s because I’m a
bloody bastard.” Spike paused to take a long pull on the bottle.

“And if I ask you,” Xander looked over, shocked to see the look of pain
cross Spike’s face.

“Then I’m a fucking arsehole who doesn’t know when to keep his trap shut,”
came the quiet reply.

“What was the fight about,” Xander kept his voice pitched as low as
Spike’s, moving to stand a little closer.

“Said she was going to Australia with Cassie, didn’t like it, said some
things I shouldn’t. She told me to get out, didn't want to see or talk to
me again.” Spike stared at the wall, seeing the scene flit before his
eyes.
Berlin – 1995

“Bleedin’ Australia, thought you hated koala bears, something about them
being so forcibly cute it made you retch,” Spike called out from his
position on the bed. He had sprawled across Kat’s clothes, making it
impossible for her to pack.

“Move,” Kat’s patience was running very, very thin. They had had this
fight every night for the last three weeks, ever since she told Spike they
were leaving. Now, now the infuriating menace wouldn’t even let her pack.

“No, comfortable, seriously, why leave, Berlin’s lovely, all decadent and
whatnot. I know, nothing like between the wars, but still, quite lovely,
and Cassie just had that show and it went so well,” Spike knew he was
whining but couldn’t stop. They had all been in Berlin for eight months
now and he was used to seeing Kat everyday, used to having her around.
Almost made up for the family that he no longer had. And since he had
caught Dru with that sprite the night before, he wasn’t really in the mood
to be alone.

“Cassie wants to go home, she misses it, I need to be where she is, so off
we go. Now, move or I’ll move you.” She pushed at Spike’s back, managing
to roll him off the suitcase.

“Oh, so your little lover says jump and you jump, that it. Think you were
whipped and not some all powerful Mistress of the universe if I didn’t
know better.” Spike stood, the agitation running through him. She was
leaving, yet again. Everyone left him, always left him. Especially Dru.
He growled again, unable to keep from seeing them together every time he
closed his eyes. Now, now Kat was leaving to. For Australia. Not like
she was just going down the street.

“You better stop now,” Kat’s eyes flashed as she looked over. Spike
simply glared back, anger rising in him.

“What, don’t want to hear the truth, don’t want to know what you’ve
become. Look at you, packing up yourself. You could have servants do all
this, but, no, you live like you are mortal, like you are one of them.”
He began to pace, faster and faster, the rage he felt at Dru turning onto
her.

“I said stop.” Kat moved to stand directly in his path, staring straight
in his eyes. “I do not answer to you. I do not have to justify myself to
you.”

“That’s because you can’t. You are pathetic you know, groveling around
behind her like she’s the center of the world, like you aren’t the one who
should be worshipped. They should be kneeling before you, you should use
them as you please, but, no, you act just like them, just like a human,”
he spit out the word as if it left a vile taste in his mouth.

“Stop. Now.” Katarina’s eyes were blazing now, flames licking at the
corners.

Spike just tossed his head back and laughed. “Oh, I suppose now you are
going to tell me all about how you love her and how wonderful she is.” He
leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Please, pet, you know the truth. You
are just using her, just like you’ve used the rest. Trying to make her
Thomas, trying to find him again. Well, give it up, luv, he’s dead and
gone, long since dust and blown away, it’s been a century, don’t you think
it’s time to move on. If it were him and you had gone, he probably
wouldn’t even remember your name. He’s gone, not coming back. Not
ever.” Spike stepped back, horror creeping over his face. Where had
those words come from, that pain, that hate.

The slap echoed through the room. “Get out. Now. You have an hour.
Collect Dru. Flee. I do not ever want to see you again.”

“Mistress, I’m sorry,” Spike began, desperation clear in his voice. “I
didn’t mean,” he stopped at her raised hand.

“Do not speak to me. Never again. Do not call on me. I will not come.
Be glad I do not renounce you entirely. Leave. Now.” The words were
ground out from clenched teeth, her back firmly turned to him.

He reached out a hand to touch her but stopped as the flames began to
swirl around her body. He turned on his heel and ran out the door.

Sunnydale – present – Xander’s kitchen

“Well, you do have a gift for pissing people off,” Xander joked, trying to
ease the tension.

“That I do,” Spike replied, a faint smile crossing his face. He took
another pull at his beer, the panic of that night still with him. He had
raced across town, grabbing Dru from their home and headed out of town,
ignoring her protests. The entire night he kept looking behind them,
expecting to see her, expecting her to kill him, hoping to see her, not
wanting to be left entirely alone. But she hadn’t come. Had left him
alone, as alone as he had ever been. She always did know just how to
punish. She knew him, knew death was more welcome than solitude could
ever be.

“When did you finally get to talk to her again?” Xander pressed on,
taking this chance before it passed. He moved a little closer, trying to
encourage more disclosure, basking in the feel of Spike confiding in him,
showing some small weakness in front of him.

“Six months ago. Sitting in my crypt, phone rang, thought it was you,
picked it up, it was her, bit of shock that. Been talking ever since.”

Sunnydale – six months previous

“Whelp, some of us do sleep in the day you know,” Spike growled into the
phone, annoyed at being interrupted in the middle of Passions.

“Yes, I do know, known you for 123 years, haven’t I,” came the amused
reply.

“Kat,” Spike sighed out, eyes opening wide. “Kat, is that really you?”

He heard the familiar laughter, undead heart twisting at the sound. “Yes,
what, that chip scramble what’s left of your brain around?”

“How did you know,” Spike stopped, a huge grin crossing his face. “Who am
I asking, I know. Kat, I’m sorry, please I didn’t mean it, just, don’t
hang up, fuck, where’s a pen, what’s your number, where are you, I’m in
Sunnydale, right probably know that,” **too much time with the witch,
babbling like a fool** Spike turned in a circle, unsure what to do first,
find a pen and paper or pass out from shock.

“Spike, shut up. I know. I know you didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.
Overreacted a bit myself. I’m still in Sydney. Give you the number
later, just, needed to hear your voice.”

Spike stopped suddenly, surely the trembling in her voice came from the
connection, it couldn’t be that she was, “Luv, are you crying?”

“If I said no would you believe me,” came the response. Spike sat down
slowly on the bed, knowing what was coming next. There was only one thing
that made Kat cry.

“Is she gone?” He forced the words out.

“Not yet. Leukemia, she won’t let me,” with that Kat broke down.

“Shh, it’s fine, everything will be fine, shh,” Spike damned the phone,
damned the sun, damned the distance between them, damned himself for the
thrill that went through him knowing that she still needed him, that he
was still her kin.

He listened to the sniffles for a moment more, than heard the enforced
cheerfulness in her voice. “So, who did you think I was and why did you
sound so happy to hear from whomever you thought I was?”

“Xander. One of the Slayer’s pets.” Eight years fell away like nothing
as they spoke, the tie still as firm as always.

Sunnydale – present – Xander’s kitchen

“Why didn’t you say something then,” Xander asked, still hurt that Spike
had kept this from him.

“Not the kind of thing you just drop in casual conversation, pet.” Spike
looked up, seeing the hurt in Xander’s eyes. Unable to stop, he reached
out a hand and cupped Xander’s cheek. “Didn’t mean to hide from you,
just, didn’t think I was going to see her again. Would have told you, I
swear, Xander.”

They stared at each other, Xander feeling the cool hand burn into his
skin, not wanting to move, not wanting to lose that touch. Spike finally
slid his hand away, lightly trailing his fingers over Xander’s cheek.

“I understand, a little I guess, not like I tell everyone that Buffy is
the Slayer or Willow is a witch. And I’m glad I got to meet her,” Xander
grinned again. “She did promise to tell me anything I wanted to know
about you. C’mon blondie, give her a call, tell you what, let’s get
plastered and play truth or dare, bet she knows things about you that you
would never tell me.”

**Too bloody right by half** “Fine by me, luv, but I must warn you, I
already have a few choice questions in mind for you.” He dialed the
number, amazed that he could do so and she would just answer then come.
He heard the phone ring and turned to Xander. “Here you ask, she would
like that.”

Xander nodded and grabbed the phone. “Hi, yeah it’s Xander, are you going
to come over,”

Spike closed his eyes, happily listening to the two most important people
in his world talk to each other, delighting in what he never thought
possible.

==========================================================================
Los Angeles – present

Angel looked down at the picture yet again, hands flat on the desk.

“Are you certain these aren’t fake, that someone’s not just playing a
very, very cruel trick,” he growled out, trying to cover his fear with
rage.

“No, absolutely not, I took them myself,” the man in front of him looked
down, not wanting to catch Angel’s gaze, not wanting to draw the anger on
himself.

Angel slowly picked up the first picture. She hadn’t changed. Well, he
snorted to himself, what did he expect. Certainly her hair was different,
jet black now, and clothes, and she seemed just a little thinner, but her
eyes. Same piercing blue. Staring straight into the camera as if she
knew it were there. Same aura of danger.

“You should know, her mate died ten days ago,” the man stepped back,
preparing to run.

“And now suddenly she’s here,” Angel swallowed, dropping into the chair.
“Do you know where she went?” **Anywhere but there, anywhere but there,
please, just. . .**

“Sunnydale.” With that man fled into the night.

“Sunnydale, oh hells, Spike, she came for Spike,” Angel looked up, face
stricken. “What am I going to do?”

Part Five

Oxford – 1882

Thin white hands, the fingers dripping with blood, reached out and
caressed the throat of the shivering man.

“What, no words in all those books to explain this,” the seductive voice
murmured in his ear. “All your studies just not quite real now.”

Those fingers trailed lightly over the man’s throat, lingering on the
strong beat of his pulse. The man swallowed involuntarily, trying to keep
his eyes locked on the yellow ones looking up at him, trying desperately
not to look around, not to smell the blood drenching the ground around
them. He couldn’t help it, however, and his eyes suddenly darted to his
left, stomach turning as he realized that he could no longer tell which
arm went with whose body, seeing hearts and lungs peering from the open
chests.

“Lovely sight, isn’t it? Always wanted to know what someone looked like
on the inside, now you do.” The voice never wavered, never changed from
that almost purr. “Well, chap, your turn now. See if you can last longer
than your mates. Bit on the girly side, weren’t they, screaming like
that.” The hand slipped from his throat and the man shuddered, wanting
nothing more than to run away. However, the spikes through his feet
nailed him fast to the ground and he was unable to move.

The yellow eyes dropped from his, just for a moment, as the dark blond
head bent down, searching for something in the small satchel lying at his
feet. The man could feel the grin cross the demon’s face as it found what
it was looking for.

“Yes, luv, let’s see, where will I begin,” the same low murmur, only
deeper this time, with a hint of passion behind it. “I think, right
about, here.”

The man began to howl as the pain went through him. The railroad spike
dug deep into the center of his chest and slowly, slowly, those elegant
hands pulled it down, lower and lower, dragging out the pain. Finally,
the demon stopped when it reached the waistband of his pants.

“Hmm, shall I let you die a man, what should it be, I know, let’s ask the
stars, maybe they will sing us a pretty song.” The voice was vicious now,
hate filled and enraged. The man suddenly dropped to the ground as the
demon’s arm dropped away from him.

“Sing for me, sing for me, what won’t you ever fucking sing FOR ME,” Spike
screamed out, spinning round and round in a circle, the scent of blood
intoxicating on the night air. “Not good enough, only for her, tell her
to go off with her Daddy, her precious Daddy, leave me here alone,” Spike
whirled back around, the spike slashing across the man’s eyes, tearing
them from their sockets. Spike drank in the screams of pain, hearing
another voice his anguish. He yanked the man back to his feet and pressed
his fangs to his neck.

“You should be grateful, their ends were much messier than this,” Spike
whispered, then plunged his fangs into the man’s neck, greedily drinking
down his fear. He sucked and sucked until he felt the heart stop beneath
his hands. He stepped back, allowing the body to simply fall to the
ground, blood dripping from his mouth, coating his body from head to toe.

“William the Bloody, indeed.” The amused words drifted down to him.

Spike spun around, startled searching for the sound of that voice. Surely
it couldn’t be. . .

“Mistress,” the word breathed out as Spike finally saw her leaning against
the side of a building, an enigmatic smile on her lips. “Mistress, I did
not know you were here.”

Katarina let out a low laugh as she made her way through the bodies
surrounding Spike. “Of course not, my sweet, I did not wish you to notice
until you were done.” She surveyed the scene, nodding approvingly. Seven
bodies laid out, some torn limb from limb, others only ripped open, the
last merely drained. “I see you have learned well. Angelus himself would
be proud.” She watched, her gaze steady as Spike flinched back at her
words. An eyebrow raised slowly as she looked more closely at the
vampire. He was pale, more so than usual, more than he should be after
feeding. And thin, almost gaunt. Her gaze softened and she moved to
stand directly in front of Spike.

“So, I take it that Drusilla heard the stars singing to her again,” she
kept her tone even, not wanting to startle Spike.

Spike just nodded, feeling the warmth radiating from her body. “Left me
here last week, said they would be back in a day. Haven’t heard from them
since.”

“They will be back, don’t worry, Dru always returns. You should know that
by now.” Her hand reached out and caught his, pulling him along behind
her. “Come with me.”

“Where are we going,” he quietly asked, not really caring. It had been
nearly a year since he had last seen the Mistress, since she had stopped
in at their home for only an hour, barely speaking to him, just looking
him up and down thoroughly, then complimenting Angelus on how well his
childe fought.

“To eat, I’m hungry, you look like you need more blood. What, did you
stop feeding when they left, you cannot do that you know, you need to stay
strong.” She pulled him into the waiting carriage and gave a quick
command to the driver. Spike shut his eyes, allowing the pain to wash
over him, hearing Dru’s words.

“The stars say that I am to be with Daddy, that Daddy must love me and
only me, not you, not my precious childe, I am his, I must be with him,”
Dru chanted the words over and over as Angelus led her away, smirking at
Spike as he ran after them, trying to pull Dru back. She hadn’t even
turned, hadn’t looked at him once.

He opened his eyes when they came to a stop, obediently following her into
the low cottage. A fire danced merrily in the grate and a light supper
was set on the table. She pulled him into a chair then pressed a goblet
into his hands. He drank slowly, waiting for her to speak.

She was quiet for some time, eating slowly, seemingly content in the
silence. Finally, she pushed her plate away with a sigh and stared into
his eyes.

“Spike, why did you do that tonight, you have not been that bloodthirsty
in a long time. And do not say it was because you had not eaten, if that
was the case you simply would have drained them dry.” Katarina took a sip
from her glass, waiting for the reply.

“I was angry. She keeps leaving, no matter what I do. He treats her like
a whore and she keeps going back, I can never be good enough for her, I
will always be beneath her.” Spike stared into his goblet, the truth
spilling out. He didn’t know why, but he always told Katarina the truth
when she asked. Deep down, he needed this more than he was willing to
acknowledge, needed just one person who would simply listen, one person
who would let him tell the truth.

“Spike,” Katarina sighed, seeing the hurt clearly written on his face.
“She is insane. You know that, you’ve always known that. Why do you
insist that she act rationally, it will never be. She is who she is, you
just have to understand that.” She picked up the poker and began idly
pushing at the logs in the fire, making the embers spark.

“I know, but, I just keep hoping if I try hard enough that she will get
better. She does have moments of lucidity, you know.” He moved to join
her by the fire, finding it easier to talk when there was somewhere else
to focus his attention.

“I know,” Katarina smiled slightly to herself. She wondered if Spike
realized he did this, realized that he let his façade drop around her, let
his humanity come to the surface. That was why she kept coming back, kept
coming to see how he was. At first he had gone on a killing rampage,
forcing Darla, Angelus, Drusilla and him to flee from the angry mobs. But
he was beginning to learn finesse, beginning to meld the two halves of his
mind into one. “That doesn’t explain why you went on that little spree
tonight, did something happen?”

“No, yes, well,” Spike paused, slightly embarrassed. How did he explain
this?

“Yes,” Katarina turned to face him, waiting for him to continue. When no
further words were forthcoming, she reached out a hand and stroked down
his arm. “Don’t make me force it from you,” the words were mocking but
Spike knew the threat was real.

“Well, went to a pub, wanted a pint of bitter. Ran into some blokes I
knew from university, they heard how Cecily cut me, so they decided to
have a bit of fun. Put up with it for a while then asked them if they
wanted to settle this outside like gentlemen, so they followed me out.
Quickly realized their mistake,” Spike grinned at that, remembering the
shock on their faces, how their laughter had turned to screams.

“Well, I really have only one response to that, just what were you doing
in a pub in Oxford in the first place,” Kat shook her head. “Foolish, so
foolish, thought you had learned better than that. Returning to a place
where you were known.”

Spike just cleared his throat, he had hoped she would miss that. “Dru
wanted to come here. Stayed when they left.”

“But why there,” Kat began, only to see Spike begin to nervously shift
back and forth. “William, tell me why you were there.”

“Missed it. Used to go there to write, just wanted to see it again.” The
quiet words hung in the air, Spike’s head lowered in shame. **So weak,
stupid that, just wanted to remember** He felt a warm hand reach for his.

“Well, that’s understandable. Tell you what, why don’t you stay here
until they come back, I have the room,” she shrugged as it was of no
importance to her. Her sudden grip on his hand denied that however.

“Certainly, Mistress.” They stood in front of the fire, both relaxing
slightly, warming in each other’s presence. No longer alone.
===========================================================================

Sunnydale – present – Xander Harris’s house

Xander pulled open the door as soon as he saw the headlights pull into the
driveway, Spike right behind him in the doorway. They watched as Kat paid
the cab, then walked up the short sidewalk. Xander chewed nervously on
his lower lip as she stopped, tilting her head to take in the front of the
house.

“Welcome to Casa de Harris. Come, join the fun.”

She bounced up the sidewalk, surprising him by pressing a kiss to his
cheek. “Very nice, like the landscaping, you did that right?” She
bustled into the house, pressing a bag into Spike’s arm. “Brought
provisions.”

Spike quirked an eyebrow when he heard the bottles clanking in the bag.
He moved into the living room, stepping aside as Xander took Kat on a
brief tour of the house. “And this is Spike’s room,” drifted out to him
and he smiled unconsciously at that.

“Very nice, you did all this yourself? I’m impressed, really, I can’t
even use a hammer. I like it.” She wasn’t lying, it might be small but
it was nice and the workmanship was excellent.

Xander grinned at that, it was obvious that she wasn’t being polite, that
she really liked the house. “Thanks, it was difficult and took a long
time, but worth it in the end.”

“All good things are, Xander, all good things are,” Kat called out as she
trailed Xander back to the living room.

The bottles were set in a row on the coffee table. Whiskey, vodka and
tequila. Spike stood there with a quarter in his hand. “Right, mates,
here’s the rules. Pick your poison, take a shot, flip the coin. Heads is
truth, tails is dare. Alternate asking or daring between the two who
aren’t up. And Kat, you go first.” He automatically opened the vodka and
poured her a shot.

“Here goes.” She tilted her head back and tossed it down, flipping the
coin with her other hand. “Heads. So gentlemen, who asks first?” She
settled on the chair, waiting for a question.

“Me, me,” Xander bounced, an evil grin on his face. “So, what is Spike’s
natural hair color?” He ignored the low growl next to him. “Hey, you
never said it had to be a question about her now did you? So spill, what
is beneath those peroxide locks?”

“Blond.” Spike and Kat burst out laughing at the look of shock on
Xander’s face.

“No, that can’t be right, c’mon play fair, said you would tell me.”
Xander protested but the laughter just continued. He tried growling but
that only made them laugh harder.

“No, that’s, that’s the truth,” Kat finally managed to spit out, wiping
tears from her eyes. “Oh, that was a great expression. Dark blond.
Beautiful shade really, you should let it grow back out, Spike. And it’s
wavy too.” Her eyes sparkled, Xander deserved something extra for that.

“Hey,” Spike blurted out, then stopped when he heard Xander speak.

“Really, like to see that,” Xander said quietly, picturing running his
hands through Spike’s hair.

Spike cleared his throat slightly, surely he was imaging that note of
desire in Xander’s voice. He turned to the table, busying his hands to
calm himself. He picked up a shot glass and handed it to Xander. “Your
turn, whelp.”

Xander picked up the tequila and tossed back his shot, the pleasant burn
running to his toes. “Tails, dare.” He watched those identical eyes
narrow and a sudden jolt of fear went through his body. Maybe this wasn’t
such a good idea.

“Let’s see, what could we have you do, what indeed.” Kat stared, enjoying
the anticipation. Even Spike looked a little worried as to what she would
suggest. “Hear you do a fabulous imitation of the Slayer when she’s being
a bit extra whiny. Go ahead, let’s see.”

“How did you know,” Xander looked over and saw Spike looking anywhere but
at him. “So, spilling all our secrets, Spike, just you wait, I’ll get you
back.” He moved to the center of the room, then pretended to toss hair
over his shoulders.

“But, Giles,” Xander pitched his voice as high as he could. “I don’t want
to stay and train, there’s a big shoe sale and besides, I have to go
shrink the rest of my clothes, and then I have to sit and stare in the
mirror and feel sorry for myself because I can’t find someone to love me,
even though I am completely self-absorbed and don’t pay any attention to
them when they do.” Xander stomped his foot and collapsed dramatically on
the couch, folding his arms across his chest and thrusting his bottom lip
out in a huge pout.

Spike nearly doubled over in laughter as Xander continued to pout. “Don’t
you make fun of me I’m the SLAYER and no one knows just how hard I have
it. It’s not funny.” With that Xander stood up and pretended to stomp
out the room. He returned bowing to the applause and whistles. “Thank
you, thank you, please no autographs.” He settled back on the couch as
Spike reached for the bottle of whiskey. Looked like it was going to be a
good night.
===============================================================

“Oh, this was not a good idea,” Xander moaned out, squinting at the clock
across the room. “I have to be at work in,” he paused for a long time,
trying to work it out in his head. “Nine hours.” Another groan came from
him. “Probably still be drunk.”

“Mmmm,” came Spike’s reply. He didn’t really trust himself to answer, not
when the world was spinning round and round like that.

“Here, drink this, it will help.” Xander heard Kat’s amused voice as she
pressed a glass into his hand.

“What’s this, some ancient secret hangover cure, please tell me it’s some
ancient secret hangover cure,” Xander muttered as he drank, closing his
eyes. He was positive that when he laid the planks for the floor that he
made sure they were level. If so, why was the room tilting like this.

“Yes, Xandersan, it’s called water. Drink. You know that’s why you get a
hangover, don’t you, it’s the dehydration.” Kat grinned down at the two
miserable figures on the floor. “I’ll give you some aspirin in a bit,
just keep drinking water.”

“You do know the best cure for a hangover,” Spike muttered darkly, eyes
still firmly shut. “Staying drunk.”

Kat laughed, watching as they flinched from the sound. She settled back
down on the coffee table, pushing the bottles out of the way, grinning
down at them. She wondered if Spike even realized that he was still
dressed in Xander’s clothes. He had whined fiercely at Xander’s dare, but
had finally emerged from Xander’s bedroom in the brightest, most garish
shirt he could find. The khakis were barely staying on, his hips were so
much slimmer than Xander’s. He grumbled and moaned, especially when Kat
pulled out her camera. In this case, a picture was truly worth a thousand
words.

She reached out, picking up the camera again. They made quite a lovely
picture, pressed firmly into one another, leaning back against the couch,
bodies connected from shoulder to foot, arms resting against each other,
hands just not quite touching. They had started on the couch, but when
Xander had fallen off, laughing at Spike’s attempt to sing some Rodgers
and Hammerstein song, Spike had settled in next to him on the floor.
Little by little they had scooted next to one another until they ended
like this. They hadn’t really moved in the last hour. She shook her head
fondly. She had briefly considered daring them to kiss, just to see what
would happen, then had decided not to. Let them muddle through it on
their own.

She heard Xander’s breath slow into the deep pattern of sleep, looked
closely at Spike, seeing the tension ease out of his face. Humming softly
she began to clear the mess from the living room, checking to see that the
curtains were firmly closed. The night had been quite amusing. She had
switched to drinking water halfway through and they had never noticed,
both far, far too drunk to care. She watched the familiar banter, her
heart warming at the way they looked at each other. As soon as she had
started speaking to Spike again, she knew he was gone for Xander. Xander
was all he ever talked about, even when bitching about the Slayer. It was
almost never about how the Slayer threatened him, instead his complaints
centered on how the Slayer ignored Xander, how the Watcher never bothered
to train Xander, how the witches were too wrapped up in each other to
notice Xander. When Spike told her about Anya she thought the phone would
melt in her hand from the fire behind his words. She had said nothing,
just happy that Spike was happy. She leaned down and dropped a kiss on
Spike’s head, heading off to sleep.

“Kat,” Xander’s sleepy voice stopped her and she slowly walked over to sit
next to him on the floor.

“Yes, luv?”

“Can I ask you something, meant to earlier but, didn’t want to upset
Spike.” Xander slowly opened his eyes, turning his head to look at her.

“Of course, what is it?” She sucked in a deep breath, waiting to hear
what it would be.

“Why did you and Spike have a fight?” Xander spoke quietly, not wanting
to wake Spike. He had finally learned how to tell when Spike was asleep,
there was an absence to the air, like some type of energy had been drained
from the room.

“Because he’s a bloody bastard,” came her instant reply.

“He said you would say that,” Xander murmured, trying to focus.
“Seriously, what was it, he said that he said something he shouldn’t, just
what could be that bad.”

Kat stared into those brown eyes, letting out a shaky breath. “The truth.
And I knew it. And I didn’t want to hear it. Now, go back to sleep,
I’ll make sure you wake up in time for work.” She dropped a kiss on the
top of his head as well as she set off for bed.

Xander settled back against the couch, inching slightly closer to Spike,
the backs of their hands rubbing together.

======================================================================
Giles started as the phone rang, pulling him from sleep. 4:30 in the
morning who could it be? He quickly answered the phone, his heart
pounding in his chest. 4:30 phone calls were seldom good.

“Yes,” he croaked out, straining to figure out who it was.

“Giles, it’s Angel, sorry to wake you, just something urgent has come up.
Do you know where Spike is?” Angel’s worried voice sounded down the
line, causing Giles to sit upright on the bed.

“Not really, why are you looking for him,” Giles cautiously replied.

“I need to find him, someone, someone is on their way to Sunnydale and,
well, I need to talk to him about it,” Angel paced back and forth,
shooting dark glances out the window. Too close to sunrise to leave and
find Spike before she did, before Spike. . . Angel closed his eyes,
forcing himself to stay calm.

“Angel, who, who is on their way, I think, well, I think she may have
already arrived,” Giles swung his legs over the side of the bed, rising,
needing to pace. Angel knew her, what had the Council missed, what else
didn’t he know.

“She, why do you think it’s a she.” Angel stopped, terror crashing over
him, too late, he was too late.

“Angel, it is much too late, or early, how ever you wish to view it, for
me to play games, just who are you expecting to arrive.” Giles made his
way to the kitchen, setting the kettle on to boil.

“A woman, well, it’s complicated, just I think she’s coming to kill
Spike.” Angel felt his throat constrict as the words were pulled from
him. It sounded so simple put like that. So complicated in reality.

“If you mean Katarina de Rien, then, well, she’s here already. And I
don’t think she is going to kill him.” Giles was gratified by the crash
on the other end of the line, it was clear that Angel’s legs had just
given out. Good, it was about time that the vampire got paid back for all
the times he had done the same to Giles.

“She, she’s there, you met her. When? Why? Giles, what’s going on,”
Angel sputtered out, staggering back to his feet.

“She came back two nights ago now, found him at the Magic Box. Reclaimed
him as her kin in front of everyone, then left with Spike and Xander in
tow. I have no idea where they are now and I am not particularly inclined
to find out. I called Xander earlier today and he was fine. Now, why are
you so concerned?” Giles poured the water over the tea bag and settled on
his couch.

“Kin, reclaimed as kin,” Angel swallowed hard. He didn’t know which
emotion was stronger, fear or relief. “I didn’t know that they had
reconciled.”

“Angel, I did not know that any of you even knew an Ancient. Let only the
Executioner. Would you care to explain,” a harsh edge was clear in
Giles’s voice. He was tired and frustrated and angry and still more than
a little scared. He heard a huge sigh come down the line.

“It’s, it’s a long story, but, well, I, when I was Angelus, I took
something that was hers. She has sworn revenge. Including taking what is
mine. And Spike is MINE.” The words were growled out and Angel felt his
grip on the phone tighten.

“From what I’ve seen, I would have to say that he is hers,” Giles replied.
“I do not think you have to worry about her killing him.”

Angel stared out the window, the darkness matching his memories. “I don’t
know if that’s better or worse.”

“Neither do I,” came the quiet response. “Are you going to tell me about
it or can I go back to sleep?”

“Giles, I’m sorry, didn’t realize,” Angel shot a guilty look to the clock.
“Go back to sleep, just, I’ll call you tomorrow, I have to check with
some sources. Good morning, Giles, sorry to wake you.”

“Good morning to you too.” Giles rested his head on the back of the
couch, staring at the ceiling. “Bloody hell, what else can go wrong?” He
took his tea back into the bedroom, hoping he could get to sleep. Angelus
had taken something that was hers. And she had vowed revenge. And Angel
was still alive. So what revenge? He shook his head, no, he wouldn’t
think of this now. He had to get sleep. Tomorrow would be a very busy
day, very very busy. He had a feeling that the Council was not going to
be pleased when he informed them of this turn of events.

=========================================================================
Sunnydale – one week later

“Spike, Kat, you in here,” Xander called out as he opened the doors to the
suite. Spike had moved into the hotel with Kat and Xander had taken to
going home to shower and change after work then heading straight to the
hotel to meet up with them. Kat had finally just given him a copy of the
key card for the doors the day before, muttering something about why he
just didn’t move in as well. But muttering in an affectionate way.

He walked into the living room then stopped, transfixed by the painting
propped against the wall. It was huge, at least six feet by three feet.
It was beautiful and dark, drawing all the light in the room into its
depths. It was Dru, larger than life, pale skin, dark hair and eyes.
Xander walked forward, drawn to reach out, to see if she was real. She
looked real. Whoever had done this had captured her perfectly, captured
the mad gleam in her eyes. Perfectly portrayed her fragility and
strength.

Spike stood staring, completely motionless, not turning his head when
Xander moved to stand next to him.

“Kat’s gone. Her belongings started arriving from Sydney today and she
said something about unpacking. I don’t know where and she wouldn’t tell
me. This is what Cassie painted for me. Here, read this, she wrote me a
note.” Spike never took his eyes from the canvas as he spoke, a hand
blindly reaching over, holding out a thick piece of cream paper.

Xander took it, unfolding it slowly then looking down to see flowing
handwriting.

William, please forgive me. I never meant to take Kat from you. I was
jealous and selfish. She will need you now, please do not leave her. I
have nothing left to give you, I will be gone before you read this. So
here is all I can give. She was always beautiful and you always deserved
her love. Never believe you didn’t. No matter what she said. Remember
the good. Burn away the bad. She was mad to leave you.

Cassie

“Spike,” Xander said helplessly, staring up at the canvas, his heart
breaking, imagining how Spike must feel to be confronted with this. “It’s
perfect.”

“Yes, give Cassie that, she certainly could paint.” Spike’s voice was
flat, his expression impenetrable.

“Are you, are you, hell, Spike, are you okay?” Xander said helplessly, at
sea as to what to say or do. Gods, if someone gave him a portrait like
this of Anya.

“No, but, I will be,” Spike replied, finally turning to look at Xander.
“She’s gone, she’s not coming back, I know that,” his eyes closed briefly
then he looked back up, “and I don’t really want her to. Just, hurts.”
Xander nodded, leaning in closer to Spike, their shoulders touching.
Spike turned back to the portrait, then slowly reached down, taking
Xander’s hand in his, locking their fingers together, holding on for dear
life.

Part Six

“Do you have any idea of where we’re going?” Xander looked up at Spike as
he read the directions on the note.

“Not really,” Spike answered.

“Left here,” Xander pointed to the road up ahead. Spike quickly made the
turn and they briefly looked at each other once again. They had been
driving for about thirty minutes and were slowly moving further and
further from the center of town.

“Does she do this often?” Xander watched the moon peek out from behind
the branches of the huge trees lining both sides of the road.

“’Fraid so. Once sent me nothing put a map and a compass and these
cryptic instructions and I had no idea what it was for until I got there,”
Spike replied, distracted by way the moonlight was streaking across
Xander’s face. **Concentrate, don’t want to hit anything with the whelp
in the car.**

“I wonder if this has something to do with whatever mysterious project it
is that she’s been up to?” Xander drummed his fingers on the dashboard,
excitement and nervousness mingling in him. As safe as he knew he was
with Spike, there was still something slightly worrisome about heading out
into the dark woods with a vampire going to meet a powerful immortal
being. Not that they would ever hurt him, but, still, worrisome.

“Don’t know, should be there soon though, what did the note say, turn
right two miles or three?” Spike was excited himself. Kat’s surprises
tended to be dramatic and she was definitely up to something. Three weeks
ago she had come bounding into the suite, barely able to restrain herself
from bouncing up and down in glee.

“Well, poppets, I’ve gotten some good news. I’ll be very busy for a short
while, so don’t worry if you don’t see much of me. I’m sure the two of
you can manage to keep each other entertained. Ta.” With that she
quickly kissed them each on the cheek and dashed back out the door. They
simply stared at each other for a moment, then Spike shrugged.

“She’ll tell us when she’s ready, your move, mate.” With that they
resumed playing chess.

Kat had been right, they had only seen her in passing over the last few
weeks. Xander had caught her yelling something into the phone the one day
about paint and Spike had watched her pack up her clothes and head out the
night before. Xander hated to admit it, but he hadn’t missed her as much
as he expected that he should. After all, it gave him more alone time
with Spike. Since Kat arrived, he had all but abandoned the Scooby gang.
Sure, he called Buffy and Willow every day, just to let them know he was
fine. He had gone to lunch with Giles one Sunday and out to a movie with
Willow and Tara on another Saturday afternoon, but really even that was
just to assure them that, no, nothing evil had happened to him. Kat and
Spike hadn’t seen them at all, in fact, Kat started to growl every time
any of their names were mentioned. Xander found to his surprise that he
didn’t miss the gang all that much. It was much better to be with Kat,
she treated him like an equal, asking his opinions about things, laughing
at his jokes, making him feel good. He had been surprised at some of
their conversations. He never knew that he had opinions on some of the
topics she broached, never realized that maybe, just maybe, he had more
depth than even he thought.

And being with Spike, well, that was even better. Xander felt himself
falling ever more helplessly with each passing day. This Spike was both
exactly the same and completely different. Completely different in that
he seemed perfectly at ease for the first time since Xander had gotten to
know him. The faint edge of desperation was gone, instead, Spike was
simply himself. Which meant that he was exactly the same. The scathing
wit and ready quips were still there, along with the constant threat of
violence. Xander shivered a little as he recalled the first time he had
witnessed them hunt. It had been about two weeks before. Kat came
tearing into the suite around midnight, interrupting one of their endless
games of poker. Spike had taken up the gauntlet of teaching Xander to
bluff and the task seemed neverending.

“Spike, Pkatha demons. In the park. Let’s go,” her voice was low and
husky, her eyes shaded and dark. Spike shot out of his chair, moving with
preternatural speed, growling constantly, his tongue licking his lips.

“Xander, you want to come,” Kat called as they bolted out the door. He
had been pulled along almost against his will. He had been curious at
Spike’s willingness to spend his evenings with them, foregoing his usual
fights. Xander assumed that Spike simply went out after he left around
1:00 most mornings, but he hadn’t asked. They piled into Kat’s Rover and
sped off, Kat driving, flying through the streets until they came to the
park. Spike practically ripped the door off the hinges as he tore up the
hill, Kat right behind. Xander followed after them, cresting the hill
just in time to be splattered in blood.

Howls tore through the night as Spike and Kat fought. No, Xander shook
his head slightly, fighting implied the demons were capable of responding.
They simply tore through the demons like a sickle through wheat, vicious
cries coming from their bodies. He watched Spike lash out a leg and
tumble one of the stocky bodies to the ground, then lean down and rip into
its face with his fangs. Spike quickly ripped an arm from the struggling
body, throwing it into the air behind him. Kat caught it, never breaking
pace from spinning round and round, her foot snapping out to strike her
victim in the chest. The demon’s chest suddenly caved in and she stopped
her kick mid air, then shoved the arm into the gaping hole. Spike had
already moved on to the two remaining demons, slamming his fist into the
face of the first, driving him back into the second. Kat joined him and
they set to work, moving up and down the bodies, the glimmer of a knife
suddenly appearing in Kat’s hand. She leaned down and began to carve
strange symbols into the demons’ chests while Spike slowly turned the neck
of the one on the right, holding its head precisely at the breaking point,
lingering there. A quick nod from Kat and he snapped the demon’s neck,
leaning over the suddenly still body to rip out the throat of the
remaining demon. They stepped back, both panting harshly, then Spike
suddenly wrapped his hand into Kat’s shirt, lifting her high in the air.
She tilted her head to one side and Spike began to lick the blood from her
neck, her hands buried in his hair.

Xander stood back, watching in amazement, listening to the cooing coming
from Kat, some inhuman noise he had never heard before. Spike slowly set
her back down and they both suddenly turned to stare at him, Spike’s
yellow eyes blazing, flames dancing in the corners of Kat’s eyes. Their
heads tilted in unison and, suddenly, the tension snapped, Spike’s face
shifting back to human as Kat stepped forward, slowly walking over to
Xander.

“Sorry, should have waited, but, needed that, haven’t had a good workout
in a while,” her cheerful voice called out. “C’mon, Spike, time to get
cleaned up. And I’m hungry, Xander, want pizza or Chinese?” They headed
back to the Rover, Xander’s eyes still wide. He had never witnessed
anything like that.

“Pet, two or three,” Spike gently prodded, seeing that Xander had slipped
away for a moment. He wondered what the human was thinking, looking so
pensive, his lips slightly pursed.

“Oh, sorry, two, looks like the turn is just up ahead.” Sure enough,
there was a small road and Spike took the turn. The road curled around,
slowly leading up a small hill. Suddenly, they reached the top and Xander
let out a gasp.

A huge house blazed before them, shining in the night. The front was
almost entirely glass, windows stretching from the ground to the ceiling.
The walls curved slightly and the back of the house was hidden. As they
pulled closer, Xander could see canvases hanging on the walls. Kat’s
Rover stood in front of a small entranceway and Spike pulled up behind it.

“Gentlemen, how lovely to see you. Come on in, the water’s fine.” Kat
bowed deeply as she ushered them into the house.

“Kat, is this, wow,” Xander stuttered as he followed Spike into the house.

“So, this is what you’ve been up to, precious.” Spike looked around,
seeing the familiar pieces hanging in this new place. “All moved in I
see.”

“Yup. The last installation was this morning.” Kat followed after Xander
as he headed down the hall.

Xander stared up, stunned at the beauty surrounding him. “Monet, that’s
Monet. Hocking, Klee, Manet, Pissarro,” the names spilled from his lips
as he walked down the curving hallway. He reached out a tentative hand
and gently brushed it down the skirt of the bronze placed on top of a low
pillar. “Degas,” he breathed out appreciatively. “And that’s a Vermeer.”
He stopped, entranced. “Look at the brushwork, see, there how the
shadows curve around the corner of her face, looks like a lover’s caress.”
He stepped back, gazing up and down the hallway. “It shouldn’t work but
it does, the mingling of the periods, I like how they all reflect on one
another, how the angularity of Kandinsky initially seems to have no
connection with the Monet but it’s the breaking of form, see how the blue
and green clash to make the shadow here,” he turned back, gesturing
broadly, trying to encompass the entire room. “See, the juncture coming
together to form the negative space,” he stopped, just soaking it all in.

“Xander,” the startled voices called out.

“Hmm,” he leaned in closer to the Kandinsky, admiring the firm
brushstrokes.

“Xander, luv, you, you know who all these are?” Spike moved over to stand
next to Xander, eyes wide and curious.

“Yeah, I love art. Painting in particular.” Xander blushed slightly, he
had never told anyone this, had hidden it away. Not all his books were of
the comic variety. Most people hid their porn. He hid his art history
books, the coffee table collections he scoured used bookstores for, the
ever growing stack of postcards of paintings he admired. It was his
secret, his treasure, where he went to retreat.

Kat moved to his other side and they all tilted their heads up, admiring
the piece.

“Always preferred Rubens myself,” Spike finally murmured. “All that warm
flesh, the way the light reflects across the canvas.”

“Well, I may be obvious, but you know how much I adore Monet, all limpid
pools of beauty and whatnot.” Kat replied, taking Xander’s hand and
pulling him around the curve at the end of the hallway. “Let’s go in.”
With that, she gently pushed on the wall and it turned on the hidden
pivot.

They emerged into a huge central room. Turning back, Xander realized that
the windows in the front reached the ceiling, then stopped. The rest of
the house was completely blocked from any natural light. The walls were
stark white and the floor was marble with faint veins of gray. A large
fireplace was on the far wall, and various couches and chairs were
scattered about the room. The room should have been cold, all steel and
leather, but it wasn’t. It was warm and inviting, brightly colored rugs
scattered about, large flower arrangements strewn through the room adding
vibrancy and color. Kat smiled slightly and walked to stand under the
canvas dominating the room. It took up nearly the entire left-hand wall.
It was painted in hues of red, orange and yellow. At first it appeared to
be abstract, just a blur of color spreading from the left hand edge across
to right, the intensity of the hues deepening from one edge to the other.
However, closer examination revealed a form at the far right hand edge. A
spill of black across the top, then white forming the curve of a cheek, a
bright splash of blue, a slightly open mouth with what appeared to be the
faintest trace of blood on the lower lip, more white forming the strong
column of neck. The effect was astounding, as if someone had smeared a
profile along the canvas, as if flame trailed back from the face. The
style and brushwork was unmistakable.

“Cassandra Traxler, gods, I love her. Have you seen her Ayers rock
series, looks like something from mythological times,” Xander moved
closer, drawn forward. “I’ve never seen this, though and I have the last
collection, I thought that was all her works,” He stopped suddenly, eyes
darting from Kat to the painting and back again. It was her, a portrait
of her. Realization struck hard. “Cassie, that’s Cassie, no wonder
Spike’s painting was so perfect.”

Kat nodded, a smile curling one corner of her mouth. “This wasn’t in the
collection. She did it for me as a farewell gift. Think it’s her best
work.” It had been finished right before Cassie went into the hospital,
both of them knowing it was her last piece. She reached out and took
Xander’s hands. “Want to see Spike’s?”

Xander nodded sharply, following Kat, walking backwards, continuing to
stare at the portrait. She led them out a door, down a short hall, Xander
vaguely registering yet more paintings on the walls until they entered a
set of rooms. A small sitting area led into a huge bedroom with a large
closet and bath attached. Kat spun Xander around to look up at the
portrait hanging on the wall to the right of the bed. It was a half
profile, just the curve of a cocky grin, the perfect arch of an eyebrow,
the scar clearly outlined, all again smeared on the canvas, yet somehow
recognizable, the sharp angles of his face smoothed. Somehow, the
portrait breathed energy and vitality.

“Beautiful,” Xander sighed out. “So, so beautiful.” He wasn’t sure which
he meant, the portrait or the vampire standing beneath it.

“Told you she could paint,” Spike replied, looking up, remembering how Kat
had insisted he sit still so Cassie could make the sketches needed to
start the studies.

“Want to see the rest of the house,” Kat quietly asked. They nodded and
quickly followed her back into the main room. She led them down another
short hallway and then through a large living room that branched into a
dining room on one side and a large exercise room on the other. Going
through the dining room, they entered a large kitchen. She led them back
through the dining room and living room then through the training area.
They entered another bedroom suite, this obviously hers, her clothes lying
scattered about. Xander looked around, admiring once again how the use of
bright colors and warm fabrics warmed up what could have been the
harshness of the room. He turned then stopped, seeing yet another
portrait hanging from the wall. This was directly facing the bed, the
first thing anyone would see on rising.

It was the portrait of a young man, early to mid-twenties. He had dark
blond hair falling into a mess over one eye. Clear gray eyes peered over
wire rim glasses perched on the tip of his nose. He wore an old fashioned
suit, vest and tie and held a book in his hands. A small smile danced on
his lips, as if he had been caught thinking some private, well loved
thought.

“John Singer Sargent,” Kat’s voice was low in his ear.

“Who is it, he looks a little like Spike,” Xander watched as a brief
flicker of anguish crossed her face.

“Thomas,” Spike answered quietly. “Well, Sir Thomas Robert William
Pensington to be completely accurate.”

“Who was he,” Xander asked. It was obvious that this was someone
important to Kat. It was the only thing on the walls in the room. The
room was silent for long moments while they looked up. Kat finally let
out a large sigh, stretching out a hand to trace the bottom edge of the
frame.

“He was mine.” She stared up at the portrait for one last moment, then
led them from the room.
==========================================================================

“So when did you have this built,” Spike asked quietly, hand unconsciously
reaching out and stroking Xander’s hair. Xander had finally collapsed on
the floor in front of the chair Spike was sitting in, and he was now
leaning back against Spike’s legs, fast asleep. Xander had practically
run from room to room, lost in ecstasy at actually seeing works by the
artists he loved. Spike’s grin grew larger and larger the faster Xander
spoke, seeing the huge gestures and the unabashed enthusiasm. The look on
Xander’s face when Kat mentioned that this was only a part of her
collection had been priceless.

“Only part, well, shit, where’s the rest, are these your favorite pieces,
or does it depend on the house, which is amazing by the way, no wonder
you’ve been so busy, so what else do you have, how long have you been
collecting? I never thought about it before but you’ve actually seen how
the styles changed, what’s your favorite period, did you actually meet
them,” Xander prattled away, eyes huge.

“The rest are scattered all over, primarily in Paris at the moment. I’m
considering moving them here, haven’t decided yet. These are my favorite
pieces, I’ve been collecting since I can remember. Bought most of them
for a song and dance at the time they were done. Actually met Degas, he
could be a nasty little man. Brilliant though, don’t have a favorite
period, really.” Kat replied, pleased at her surprise. They had wandered
through the house, looping back and forth as Xander contemplated the
works. Finally they had all collapsed into various chairs, Xander quickly
falling asleep. The trust it displayed touched them both to the core.

“A week after the initial diagnosis,” Kat handed a mug of blood to Spike,
settling down on a couch facing them, a glass of wine in her hand.

“You decided to come here, even then,” Spike arched an eyebrow at that.

“Yes, knew she was going to go, just a matter of when, wanted to be near
you.” Kat met his gaze squarely. “You aren’t the only one who needed to
apologize. You were right in what you said. I knew it, didn’t want to
hear it.” Kat looked down for a moment, then let out a sigh. “Cassie
knew too, I think she always knew. That’s why she wouldn’t let me heal
her, she was tired of always competing with a memory, knowing she could
never win.”

“You loved her though,” Spike’s voice was low, calming. He hated to see
her in pain.

“Yes, I did. She knew that too. Just, when she got sick I realized that
I was tired of being alone. Missed you, missed being part of a family.”
She drank down the rest of her wine in a quick gulp and smiled wanly at
Spike.

“So did I.” Spike jerked his hand back as Xander suddenly stirred beneath
him.

“Sorry, did I fall asleep,” Xander muttered, stretching slightly, but not
moving from his space on the floor.

“Only a little bit, want to get going?” Spike stayed perfectly still, not
wanting to lose the warmth of Xander’s back pressed into his legs. He
would savor this, every little touch that he could steal.

“Yeah, better,” Xander yawned widely then slowly pushed himself up. “Good
thing you drove, don’t think I could stay awake.”

Kat led them both out the door, smiling as Spike hovered behind Xander,
making sure that the human was safely inside. She sketched a quick wave
as they pulled away, then locked the door firmly behind them.

=========================================================================
“Hello, anybody here,” Xander called out as he moved through the house.
“Spike, Kat, hello.” Xander looked around, confused. He had come home
from work to find an odd message from Spike on his answering machine.

“Mate, be sure to go see Kat tonight, just, can’t be there, be out, need
to be sure, just, go out, meet you there. Be there by 10:00, important,
tell you later.” Spike’s voice was hurried and hushed, almost as if he
were afraid that he would be overheard.

Xander listened closely, finally hearing some noise coming from Kat’s
rooms. He made his way there, then stopped just inside the door to her
bedroom. The only light in the room was the one on the portrait of
Thomas. Kat sat on the floor underneath it, eyes locked on the painting,
not moving. A magnum of champagne sat opened before her, two glasses
filled and waiting. A small ring box was opened, the glow of an emerald
shimmering in the light. He watched as Kat suddenly reached out, taking
one of the glasses and draining it in one large pull. She filled it again
and then returned to her position, never taking her eyes off the portrait.

“Kat, hey, everything okay,” Xander carefully settled down next to her.
“Where’s Spike?” He couldn’t believe that Spike would simply leave her
here like this. She looked awful, pale and drained, hair plastered next
to her head. The scent of alcohol was strong and he realized that the
magnum was nearly half gone.

“Hunting, threw him out a couple hours ago, told him not to come back, why
are you here,” her words slurred out but she never turned to look at him.

“Spike left me a message, said to come, hells, Kat, what’s wrong?” He
reached out a tentative hand, cringing as she flinched away.

“Fucker, told him I wanted to be alone.” It was the tone of her voice
that was scaring him the most, the absolute note of despair.

“Kat, what’s wrong, please, tell me, want to help.” Xander stopped,
having no idea how to continue, anger building that Spike would leave her
like this. **Bastard, leaving her, thought he was her friend**

“Don’t be mad at him, when I said I threw him out, I meant I literally
threw him out. Wouldn’t let him back in. Besides, he needs to kill
something tonight. I think, hope he’s fine, no, he’ll be fine, won’t let
anything happen,” Kat grabbed the glass and downed it again, rhythmically
filling it from the bottle once more.

Xander stared at her, he knew he hadn’t said that out loud. “Kat, what
happened?”

Kat slowly turned to look at him, her eyes bloodshot and Xander suddenly
realized that she had been crying. “It’s Thomas’s birthday. Miss him.
Miss him so bloody much.”

“I’m sorry,” Xander reached out again, pulling her a little closer,
leaving an arm around her shoulders. “You said he was yours, how long,
how long were you together?” He didn’t know if this was the right thing
to do or not, but he wanted to keep her talking, wanted to distract her
from her pain.

“Two years, two perfect years,” her eyes filled with tears, but she
battled them back, trying to calm down, not wanting to scare Xander. “He
was my mate. He was the other half of my soul, he was my everything. He
was the love of my life.” She laughed bitterly at that. “Think about
that, Xander. What that would mean for me to say. Time without end and
he, he was my everything.”

“What happened, did he die?” Xander hated himself for asking, but he had
to know. If Spike was bad about concealing his past, then Kat was that
much worse. She never talked about it, just made passing references with
Spike that were never explained to him. He might be taking advantage of
her, but this may be his only chance to find out.

“Yes. No. He was taken from me.” Kat returned her gaze to the portrait,
trying to remember exactly what his skin felt like next to hers, trying to
remember the exact sound of his voice. She began to shake slightly and
Xander tightened his grip.

“How, how did you meet?” There maybe that was a safer question.

Kat suddenly laughed, startling Xander. “Ran into him at the British
Museum, literally. We tripped over each other. We were almost never
apart after that. Here, give me your hands.” She reached over and took
Xander’s hands in hers. “Close your eyes.”

Xander complied, then gasped as the scene began unfolding before him.

========================================================================
London – 1893

Katarina tilted her head, admiring the urns displayed before her. She
missed Greece, hadn’t been back for nearly 200 years, perhaps it was time
now, London had grown somewhat boring, the ritual dance of social
engagements no longer distracting. She sighed, shaking her head slightly
at her thoughts. What did she expect, she was the one who had chosen to
remain here. She stepped back, attempting to see the urns from a new
angle.

“Bloody hell,” she yelped out as she crashed into a body behind her,
tumbling them both to the ground.

“Sorry, so sorry, didn’t see you, oh dear, miss, are you quite all right,
dear me, how clumsy, please, let me help you up,” a deep voice called down
to her as she extracted her limbs from his.

“Stupid git, what were you thinking,” her voice died off as she stared
straight into a pair of luminous gray eyes. She felt her mouth drop open,
heard her voice die away, knew she was staring but didn’t care. Those
eyes, the depths of those eyes. She vaguely realized he was still
speaking, then felt his hand take hers.

“Please, forgive me, I was merely backing up,” Thomas stared back, unable
to stop speaking, not wanting to ever let go of her hand. He helped her
rise, then reluctantly stepped back, the impropriety of the situation
dawning on him. “I meant no disrespect, forgive me.” His grip on the
sketchbook in his hand tightened as he looked into her upturned face. He
had never seen anything quite so lovely.

“It’s quite fine, my fault as much as yours, I wasn’t looking either,” Kat
sighed out. **His eyes, it’s his eyes, like I’ve always known him** The
thoughts cascaded through her mind as they stood there, the world dimming
down to just them.

“Well, then, I suppose I should be going, your,” Thomas paused, trying to
determine what was the proper way to ask the question. There was none.
He shot a quick glance down, seeing that she wore no gloves and her
fingers were quite bare. “Your companion must surely be meeting you
soon.” He gnawed at his lower lip, amazed at his boldness.

Kat smiled suddenly, lighting her entire face. “No, no companion, I am
quite alone.”

Thomas smiled back at her, relief on his face. “Oh, well, then perhaps
you would like to join me for a cup of tea,” he pressed on, damning
convention. There was no way that he was leaving before learning her
name.

“I would like that,” Kat replied. Good, now she would not have to ask and
risk startling him. Damn the British and their manners.

He offered her his arm and she glad took it as they headed down the hall.

“Well, since there is no one to introduce us, I will take the liberty of
doing so myself. Thomas Robert William Pensington at your service.” He
stopped to sketch her a slight bow.

“Katarina de Rien,” she dropped a quick curtsey in reply. They continued
down the hall, pressing slightly closer to each other, much closer than
appropriate or necessary.
======================================================================
“Katarina,” Thomas groaned out, peeling his lips from hers, “I must leave
now.”

“No,” she murmured, pulling his face down for another kiss. “Stay.”

His eyes shot open and he pulled back. “Katarina, do you mean that,
truly? The scandal, you know people will talk, everyone knows I came back
here with you,” he stepped back. Over the last six months they had been
apart only a few days when he had to travel to Paris on business. Other
than that, they were together nearly every waking moment. From that first
moment, they had both known. Convention be damned, he had told her he
loved her that first week, relieved beyond speaking when she repeated the
words. They were all but living together, alternating between her home
and his, only tearing themselves apart when forced to, when forced to make
some acknowledgment of other’s expectations. All that was left was this,
this final step.

“Thomas, do you truly think I care? I am already a scandal, a young woman
living alone, no visible means of support. Besides, why do I care what
they think, I love you, I want to be with you, you want to be with me,
please, what possible reason is there to wait?” Katarina pressed her body
into his, trying to persuade him, convince him, battle down all the
ingrained taboos.

“But, we aren’t,” Thomas started, words swallowed by her mouth.

“What, married, do you believe that matters to me, you love me, I need
nothing else.” She moved her hands to his collar, slowly loosening his
tie. “Please, Thomas, don’t make me beg.”

He groaned at that, then wrapped his hands in her hair, pushing her back,
leading them to her bedroom.

He cradled her in his arms, watching her sleep, running his fingers
through her hair. More beautiful every day, perfect, they fit together as
if poured from the same mold. A small frown crossed his face as he bent
down to kiss along her neck. Golden symbols burned there, a band running
right along her hairline, gently glowing in the candlelight. He slowly
reached over and picked up his sketchbook, tracing the symbols. Something
tickled his mind, he had seen these somewhere in the course of his
studies, somewhere in those books piling his home. Perhaps these would
tell them who she truly was. He kissed the back of her neck again,
settling back down. He had no idea how to tell her that he knew she
wasn’t human, she was so careful to keep any sign hidden. But the more
comfortable she became with him, the more the signs were present. All the
languages she knew, the casual familiarity with the past, the way the
flames in the fire would follow her as she paced, her strength. He never
asked, never questioned. But now, now he could investigate, could see who
she was.

=======================================================================
“That was wonderful,” Katarina sighed out, “lovely dinner, lovely play,
beautiful flowers, perfect gentleman.” She leaned up and kissed him
gently.

Thomas smiled slightly, then pulled her over to the couch. “Katarina,
please, I want to talk to you for a moment.” She settled next to him on
the couch and he curled his fingers into hers. He took a deep breath,
gathering his courage.

“I know who are, Mistress.”

Katarina jumped back, yanking away from him, pacing frantically. “I, I
don’t know what you are talking about,” she stammered, heart pounding
frantically in her chest. No, no he couldn’t know, couldn’t understand,
wouldn’t understand.

“Mistress, I know. I know who you are, what you are. Please, just, sit
down again, please,” Thomas begged, moving to pull her back down.
“Please, I need to talk to you. Please.”

Katarina allowed herself to be pulled down on next to him, still shaking,
still afraid. How could he possibly know. She moved away, trying to put
some distance between them, already missing the warmth of his touch.

“Katarina, please don’t pull away. I saw the banding on your neck, traced
the symbols, discovered the truth. I know why you did not tell me, why
you were afraid of what I might do or say. But realize this, it only
proves how much you love me, that you would give yourself to me.” Thomas
traced a hand down her cheek. This powerful woman, this ruler of all,
holding everything back for him. “I know there is nothing I can give you,
nothing you cannot have just for the asking, nothing other than myself.”
He pulled the box out and gently pressed it into her hands. “I want to be
yours, want you to be mine, for as long as you will have me. Please, I
have no right to ask, no right to make a claim, but please, Kat, please
marry me.”
==========================================================================

Xander started as her hands suddenly let go of his, suddenly coming back
to the present. He caught his breath, the vision of it still in his mind.
“He was your husband, I didn’t know you were married.”

“No, we didn’t have the chance,” Kat whispered. She had to stop there,
she couldn’t let Xander feel the pain. “He was taken from me the night
before.” She slowly slumped down, finally giving in to the pain, allowing
herself to slip away. “Stolen from me.” She passed out, completely
drained.

Xander carefully lifted her, placing her on the bed, smoothing the hair
from her face. “Ah, Kat, who could take something away from you.”

“Good question, mate.”

Xander whirled around. Spike stood in the door, blood streaking the side
of his face. Spike stalked over to stand next to him, placing a
protective hand on Kat’s leg.

“Take it she showed you.” Spike quietly stroked a hand down her leg.
Xander had a glazed look in his eye and Spike was certain what it was.

“A little, enough to know what he meant to her.” Xander could still feel
it, the intensity almost overwhelming. “So, who the hell could take
something from her?”

Spike growled out the answer, hate clear in his voice.

“Angelus.”

Part Seven-Seventeen