Xander knew Spike was upset. He could feel it in the tension in the hands on
his shoulders, could see it in the jerky motions that the blond man made. He
didn't want to upset the vampire, not after they'd finally reached some sort
of agreement, but if this was his one chance for a cure, then he had to take
it.

The fact that Angel and Doyle were included in the deal was just a bonus.

That thought brought on a massive wave of guilt. He was dragging them into
his problems, far more deeply than he had ever intended. That wasn't going to
stop him, though. Not when the chance to be healed was so close. Not when he
might be free of the fire inside. Not when the fire wanted all three men so
very badly.

"We're going to have to wait for Doyle to get back to begin, right?" Spike's
voice was tight.

Angel nodded. "It won't be too long. There's a supply store nearby."

The blond vampire dragged Xander to his feet. "Then we'll wait for you in the
bedroom." He pulled Xander along behind him as he stalked through the
apartment.

The brown-eyed man threw a glance at Angel over his shoulder, but he didn't
resist. Whatever was bothering Spike, they were going to have to get a handle
on it, or else it could interfere with the upcoming ritual. Once they were in
the bedroom, he planted his feet, refusing to allow Spike to pull him around
any more. "What's the matter?"

Spike opened his mouth to answer, then stopped. After a moment, he began
again. "Why don't we lie down for a bit, love? Rest up a bit before the
whole thing starts." He didn't wait for Xander to answer, but instead tugged
his own shirt off, then pulled the mortal down onto the bed.

Xander considered objecting, but gave it up. If nothing else, the cool skin
lying so close against his own stopped him from being quite so aware of the
heat inside of himself. He wriggled around for a moment, turning about until
he was comfortable, head resting on Spike's chest, his legs entwined with the
other's. "What's the matter?" he repeated.

Shaky laughter rumbled throughout the smooth chest beneath his cheek. "I'm
just not so sure that I want you to get better, love. If you do, I'm going to
lose you."

Xander levered himself up so he could look down at the other man. He'd never
expected that sort of admission from the vampire. He licked his lips, and
decided to take a chance. "Do you want to lose me?"

"No!" Spike's gaze and tone were fierce, and his hands spasmed on Xander's
back, suddenly gripping him with almost painful force.

"Then you won't," Xander promised softly. He leaned forward and hovered over
Spike, his face inches from the vampire's. He couldn't kiss him, even though
he wanted to; he was too afraid of setting off the hunger inside of him
again.

Spike seemed to understand. An open look of wonder on his face, one of his
hands cupped Xander's cheek with what felt like reverence. He stared at the
brown-eyed man for a moment, then pressed his head back down to his chest. 
"Rest now, love. I've got you." 

Xander half-closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of strong arms wrapped around
him so tightly, of being held by someone who cared. He did care for Spike,
far more than he had ever expected to. Drifting inside his own head, Xander
wondered why if he cared for Spike, he was so drawn to Angel and Doyle.

Aside from the obvious, of course.

He'd always been half-in love with Angel; hey, Buffy hadn't been able to
resist him either. Tall, dark, mysterious, handsome - what wasn't to love? 
He'd lived with his attraction, masking it in true elementary school style,
with insults and threats.

As for Doyle...the connection he'd felt with the other man was immediate. It
had only deepened during the time they'd spent doing research together, until
he felt as though he knew the older man incredibly well.

No matter what he felt for Spike, he couldn't deny his attraction toward the
other men, or his anticipation about what was to come.

Which only made him feel guiltier, of course. Here he was, looking forward to
the ritual in a dirty little corner of himself, and he knew, *knew*, that
Angel and Doyle never would have gotten involved with him under any other
circumstance.

Xander shifted restlessly, and cool arms tightened around him, and a soft
voice shushed him, soothing him back into the daze in which he had been
drifting. Gentle kisses on his temple and hands sweeping up and down his back
in long strokes kept him quiet, imparting a feeling of security, almost
safety.

Long moments passed. Xander gradually became aware of two things: first,
Spike had gone rigid beneath him; and second, there were too many hands
roaming on his back. He opened his eyes, and found that Angel was sitting on
one side of him, and Doyle on the other. Both were rubbing his back in small
circles, cool and warm. Spike had gone absolutely still, and was glaring back
and forth between the two men.

Swallowing hard, Xander sat up. Spike moved with him, not letting him move
away, but instead sitting up and pulling him into his lap. Xander let him; it
helped to ease his own guilt, if he could make the blond man feel a little
better.

He stretched a little, and rubbed his eyes, trying to wake up again. "So
you're back? Does that mean we should get started?"

Angel nodded. "I don't want to wait any longer. If this isn't going to work,
then I want to have as much time as possible to find another solution." He
glanced over at Doyle, who was setting up bowls around the room. "Doyle will
light the candles, and the other things, and we'll get started. At the right
time, I'll recite the incantation."

"And then?"

"And then hopefully this will be all over. You'll be saved."

Xander nodded slowly. Soft scents and barely-there smoke were arising from
the various bowls, slowly filling the room. Finding himself the focus of the
gazes of the other three men was playing hell with his control. "So I guess
we begin, then."

"No," Spike said, pulling Xander around to face him. "*We* begin. Those sods
can wait their turn." He didn't give the brown-eyed man a chance to respond,
but instead jerked him forward into a hard kiss.

Not that Xander was protesting. There was nothing he could do, except give
himself over to the sensation, let the last lingering remains control burn
away under the hungry cool mouth attempting to devour his own.

He tried to react, to reciprocate the caresses that were flowing over his skin
in maddening waves, but he couldn't. Spike gave him no chance: the vampire's
hands were everywhere, dominating, commanding, possessing. Finally, he gave
up and just reveled in the feelings coursing through him, feeling the heat
inside of him building higher and higher until it was all he knew.

Each sensation bled into the next, until he was only vaguely aware of them as
separate events, so immersed was he in a sea of ecstasy.

A cool mouth encasing him, delicious suction wringing his first orgasm from
him.

Slick fingers sliding inside of him, preparing him with such exquisite care,
such thorough attention that he came from that alone.

Long, hard thrusts into his burning body, a cool body draped over his back,
cold lips whispering heated words of love that he could barely understand,
until razor teeth sliced into his shoulder, and he came again with a scream.

Then all the wonderful feelings stopped, and Xander became aware of Spike
growling. He pried his eyes open, and saw Spike staring, full vamp-mode, at
Angel and Doyle. Most of his ability to think had disappeared, but Xander
knew he didn't want Spike to be upset. He reached up and stroked the demonic
visage.

The blond man looked down at him, and his gaze softened. The vampire leaned
down and claimed a final kiss, lingering and passionate. He pulled back, and
began to move away from Xander.

The brown-eyed man was confused, but then Angel was there. The older vampire
was naked, pale flesh glimmering in the light of the candles. He reached out
hesitant arms toward Xander.

The mortal knew no such reluctance. All he knew was need and want. He was
vaguely aware of how much worse he must be, if he was still hard, still
*conscious*, after all Spike had done for him. He moved forward eagerly,
finally in Angel's arms, finally in the place he had dreamed of for so long. 
He licked lazily at the pale length of throat, long, wet strokes of his
tongue.

With a strangled noise of pure desire, Angel grasped Xander's face between his
hands and took his mouth in a desperate kiss. The human responded eagerly,
pushing himself closer and closer to the vampire, reveling in the cool hands
traveling over his flesh...all four of them.

As Angel pushed him back, Xander landed not on the mattress, but on a cool
body. He tipped his head back, and Spike caught his lips in a rough kiss, his
hands stroking slowly up and down the dark-haired man's flanks.

Xander was soon sandwiched between two smooth bodies, both vampires determined
to outdo each other when it came to manipulating his body, making him cry out.
Before his eyes slipped closed for what felt would be the last time, since
they were rolling back into his skull, he caught a glimpse of Doyle, staring
at him with dilated eyes, one hand wandering across his own chest.

Cool hands pulled yet another orgasm from him, and still the fire burned
hotter within him. He arched up helplessly, begging for more, begging for
anything, begging for everything.

He didn't resist as he was turned over, pressed full length against Spike. He
sought out the blond man's mouth, inviting the cool tongue to come play with
his own. He felt cool fingers once again inside him, longer fingers, broader,
and then he was filled, crying out into Spike's mouth, sobbing out his
pleasure and need and relief. The blond man's kiss became frantic, and one of
his hands crept down to encircle Xander's hardness, strong strokes in time
with Angel's thrusts into his body. Those thrust sped up as Angel ran his
tongue over the bite on Xander's shoulder, circling the small wound wetly,
repeatedly.

Xander was lost in a storm of sensation, where rising waves of ecstasy,
hunger, and exhaustion threatened to drown him. Each was growing stronger,
and he couldn't do anything to resist any of them. He screamed his release
into Spike's mouth, nearly insensible after the slow climb to orgasm, but
still his body craved more.

Slowly, he became aware of something new. Warmth. He'd given up on ever
opening his eyes again, so moved blindly toward the heat, wanting to feel more
of it. He was turned once more, still lying in a cool embrace, but now heat
straddled him, caressed him. Hands running through his damp hair, warm breath
on his face. There were words, but Xander was too far gone to understand
them. He understood the tone, though, understood the hard length pressing
into his stomach. He strained upwards toward the warmth, and was rewarded
with a kiss, slick heat dueling with his own in a dizzying spiral of
pleasure.

Still barely afloat, Xander reached down, groping around between himself and
Doyle - it had to be Doyle - until he had both of their erections in his
grasp. He set up a slow rhythm, not able to force himself to move any faster.
It was so good - the hot mouth moving down his neck, scraping across his
chest, lavishing attention on his nipples. The feel of a cool tongue at one
of his ears, sharp teeth worrying the lobe. 

Finally, finally, he came again, and Doyle shuddered above him, following him
into completion. There was more, endless cycles of cool hands and warm, all
focused on him, on wringing the last drops of pleasure from him, until he was
near the end of everything, until he *was* drowning in exhaustion and ecstasy
and still the fire was there, burning him alive from the inside out.

And then it was just Spike, Spike inside him again, thrusts desperate and
fast, kisses desperate and fast, words desperate and fast. And Xander could
hear Angel, the older vampire's voice hoarse as he rasped out words in an
inhuman language. Everything continued to build, climbing higher as Angel's
voice grew louder, until all Xander could feel was the pleasure and weariness
and fire, mixing together into a more exquisite agony than he had ever dreamed
existed. Angel reached the end of the incantation, his words a commanding
shout. The waves buffeting and crashing over Xander reached their highest
point, and then broke - and he was coming, screaming as all the fire and the
ecstasy drained out of him. When his cry finally died away, all that was left
was exhaustion.

Feeling cool hands on his face, Xander opened his eyes. He thought it might
have been the hardest thing he'd ever had to do in his life. He looked up
into the worried yellow gaze above him, and then glanced at Angel and Doyle. 
Meeting Spike's eyes once more, he whispered, "It's gone. The fire's gone." 


Cool lips were pressed to his, and he could taste relief on them. He could
hear triumphant shouts, but couldn't respond to them, or the kisses that
followed, as he was pulled down into warm darkness, finally overtaken by
exhaustion.

******* Part Fifteen

As Xander's body relaxed bonelessly into the mattress, the three other men in
the room all heaved sighs of relief. One at a time they disappeared from the
room, taking a few quick moments to get cleaned up. When they were all once
again dressed, they met again in the bedroom.

Doyle stared down at the disheveled bed, and even more disheveled man in it. 
Without speaking, he left, and the sound of water filling the bathtub were
heard soon after. Spike gathered Xander into his arms and carried him into
the bathroom, with Angel following close behind. With a few possessive
glares, and a couple muted growls from Spike, they began to bathe the
unconscious man.

*********************************Angel**********************************

Gently massaging shampoo through Xander's hair, Angel marveled at the chance
he had been given to even touch the other man. Throughout their antagonistic
relationship, he'd always been painfully aware of the human's attractions. At
first, they had made him jealous, worried that somehow Xander would manage to
take Buffy from him. Then, they made him crazy, as he was drawn more and more
to the younger man, knowing that he would never be able to get close enough to
him.

The way Xander never gave up, never let anything stop him from doing what he
had to do. He might joke about running and hiding, but he had been the one to
force Angel to go help Buffy when she needed him, and he had been on the front
lines during the battle during graduation.

No enhanced strength, no magical powers, no supernatural gifts; Xander faced
the dark alone, with nothing except the half-remembered memories of a soldier,
and his own courage. He never backed down, never tried to use his
'mere-mortal status' to try to get out of helping his friends; instead, he
insisted on joining them, even when told that it was too dangerous for him to
do so.

With a rueful shake of his head, Angel realized that he was underestimating
Xander again. There was nothing 'mere' about him. He was making the same
mistake that Spike had, that the mayor had, that Angelus had. All of them had
failed to look any further than the surface. Well, Angelus had seen Xander's
potential, but he hadn't acted on any of his half-formed plans in time.

Curling his fingers around the thick dark locks that clung to them, Angel
vowed never to underestimate Xander again. Of course, to keep his promise,
he'd have to correctly estimate Xander, and that meant he'd have to be near
the human. Take his measure. Take *him*.

He and Spike were going to have to talk.

**********************************Doyle*********************************

Doyle ran a soapy sponge over Xander's shoulder, carefully washing away all
lingering traces sweat that clung to the insensate man's skin. He would have
preferred to use his hands, to run them over the smooth flesh, to clean the
lax body with that sort of special care. He wanted to be close to Xander, to
not lose the connection that had formed between them, in the office and in the
bedroom.

Unfortunately, he thought Spike might just eat his liver if he did, so he
stuck to using the sponge. It would be hard to do anything with Xander with a
gaping chest wound, so he could resist the urge.

As he dragged the sponge across Xander's skin, Doyle glanced up at his face,
wanting to see those brown eyes open, wanting to be sure that he was safe. 
Judging from the way Angel kept looking in the same direction, the vampire was
feeling the same anxiety. Spike never looked away: he just sat and stared
fixedly at the mortal's face, waiting for him to open his eyes.

The Irishman found it hard to believe that he could want something this bad,
especially after having known Xander for such a short period of time. Even
so, he found himself willing give anything, do anything, in order to hear
Xander laugh again.

He gently ran the sponge over the dark-haired man's throat, cleansing the bite
marks there that were already beginning to fade. Seeing them made him think
of the conversations he'd had with Cordelia about living on the Hellmouth. 
He'd also heard quite a bit about Xander's personal experiences from her as
well. From everything he'd heard, the other man's life had been one of
constant danger and menace. The half-demon didn't even want to think about
the stories about his love life that he'd heard. How Xander managed to laugh,
let alone crack jokes and make others do the same, was a wonder.

When Doyle's life had been rocked by his connection to the demon world, his
entire world had spun out of control and fallen apart. Somehow Xander had
held it together, mostly. Doyle wanted to take with him more, spend time with
him, see how he'd done it.

Well, that and have another chance to tumble him to the mattress. He wanted a
chance with Xander, when there wasn't urgency and haste hanging over them. He
had a feeling that there could be laughter and fun with the other man. 

He also wouldn't mind having an encounter with him alone. His gaze slid over
to Angel, and then to Spike. Not that it was bad with them; far from it. But
he would like something with Xander, preferably something involving them,
several days, and a waterbed.

*********************************Spike**********************************

Spike dragged his attention away from Xander long enough to glance at Angel
and Doyle. His Sire was completely wrapped up in the mortal. Spike wasn't
sure the older vampire put as much care into washing his own hair as he was
taking with the kid's. The blond man wasn't surprised; he'd seen Angelus's
obsession with the boy, and later Angel's careful avoidance of him. 

Angel wasn't going to be a problem. Unconscious or not, Xander had him
wrapped firmly around his finger.

As for the half-breed...Spike watched as Doyle took the time to wash each of
Xander's fingers. The long, lingering sweeps of the sponge spoke of lust, of
course. How could anyone resist his nummy treat? But there was caring in
those touches too, almost bordering on reverence.

That was good. Doyle was completely under Xander's spell, too.

How did the kid do it? How did he manage to attract them, and fascinate them,
until they were his, without even realizing he was doing so?

Not that Spike was immune. He didn't go around laying claim to every person
he had sex with. There was something special about Xander, something he found
irresistible. The vampire had some idea of how he had fallen. It was the way
that Xander always put Spike's welfare first, his life and safety above
Xander's own.

That had never happened to him before, and he wasn't just going to let it pass
him by. He wanted more, to experience that again, to experience *Xander*
again. The mortal was his.

Even if Angel and Doyle didn't quite understand that yet. It didn't matter
anyway.

Once the others were done washing and rinsing off Xander, Spike shouldered
them aside and pulled the dark-haired man out of the tub. He held the other
man up and dried him off, then carried him back to the bedroom. He waited
while Angel changed the sheets, and then wrapped Xander warmly in new
blankets. He wanted to stay, wanted to wait for Xander to wake up and watch
his eyes open, but there were things he had to take care of first.

He led the other two men out into the living room, half-closing the bedroom
door behind him. He turned to face Angel squarely. "Right then. You like
him, eh? So you won't mind him staying with you until I can find him a
place."

Angel frowned. "Why would you need to find him a place? He's been cured. He
can go home now." Spike could see that Doyle had picked up on the tangible
reluctance and regret in the older vampire's voice.

"Why would *you* be finding him a place?" the half-demon asked.

Spike suppressed a smile. Doyle was already right where he wanted him to be. 
He wanted Xander to stay, and he wanted to stay involved.

The blond man shook his head. "I'm not letting him go back to Sunnydale. Not
now, not ever if I can help it. He's better off here, with me."

"His friends are there. His family is there. And what say do you have over
what he does?" Angel's behavior was far more challenging than the situation
demanded.

Before Spike could reply, he heard a crash in the bedroom. He turned and ran
for the door, the other two men at his heels.

***** Part Sixteen

A quiet moan escaped Xander as he came awake, spilling forth before he could
stop it. He felt strung out, and sore, and exhausted. 

He also felt completely in control of himself, free of the fire that had been
burning beneath his skin for so long. His eyes widened in surprise, and he
sat up. It was true - he was back to normal.

Normal, with a few more aches and twinges. Xander's eyes widened, and his jaw
dropped as he remembered exactly where those twinges had come from. What had
he done?

Cheek flaming in mortification and shame, the dark-haired man scrambled out of
bed. The sight of his own nakedness only reinforced his self-loathing, and he
looked about frantically for his clothing, for anything that would help to
hide the blatant reminder of what he had done. His own clothes were nowhere
to be found, so he finally grabbed a pair of slacks and a shirt out of Angel's
closet and pulled them.

After what he had done, what was a little petty theft?

He searched the room for shoes, but was coming up empty. He didn't want to
try to make his way back to Sunnydale in bare feet. Where the hell were his
sneakers? Become more jittery by the minute, he was hit by a sudden wave of
light-headedness and staggered. He tried to catch himself, but fell into the
bedside table heavily. The lamp on it crashed to the floor.

A few seconds later, the door to the bedroom flew open. Spike stood in the
doorway, with Angel and Doyle on either side of him. "What happened?" asked
the blond man. "What are you doing up? How are you feeling, love?" Behind
him, the other men stared at him, naked concern in their gazes.

Love. The endearment, and the concern in Angel and Doyle's eyes, devastated
Xander. How could they still care after what he had done? He backed up a few
steps. "I'm sorry. I know it's not enough, but I really am. I'll be out of
here before you know it. I just hope you can forgive me."

Spike looked confused. "What are you talking about? Where do you think
you're going?" He took a few steps forward.

Xander stumbled back, shaking his head. He didn't want to explain, he just
wanted to get away, disappear as fast as possible. "I'm sorry," he repeated
desperately. "I'll be gone as soon as I can find my shoes." He took another
step back, and was caught by another wave of dizziness. He stumbled, and
would have fallen except for the strong arms that closed around him,
supporting him.

The dark-haired man tried to pull away, but it was no use. The embrace only
tightened around him, and then he was pulled off his feet, and carried over to
the bed. Soon, he was cradled in Spike's arms, the other using vampiric
strength to hold him close, in Spike's lap upon the bed.

Xander watched as Angel and Doyle slowly walked over to sit on the bed. The
dark-haired vampire's gaze caught his. "Now, what are you apologizing for,
and why are you leaving?" Angel asked quietly.

Self-loathing coursed through the mortal. He could practically feel the
tenderness in the vampire's voice. "You can't want me stay. Not after what
I've done. How can you care, how can you be so nice after what I've done?"

Cool fingers stroked his face. "And what is it you think you've done, love?" 


Soft lips brushed his temple, and Xander flinched away. What was wrong with
all of them? Even Doyle was staring at him as if he had no idea what Xander
was talking about. He swallowed hard. Did he really have to say it? "I..." 
He forced the words out. "I'm a monster. How can you even look at me? 
I've...coerced all of you into having sex with me." His throat closed up, and
he shut his eyes in despair. He'd become what he hated and feared. He hadn't
actually raped anyone, but this was no better, no different really.

He tried again to escape from Spike's arms, but the embrace tightened once
more, becoming fierce. Xander tried to break free once more, and then gave
up, tears slipping miserably down his face. He couldn't open his eyes,
couldn't look at the men surrounding him. "I know it's impossible, but I hope
you forgive me someday."

Dead silence reigned in the room, and it threatened to crush Xander. He just
wanted to run away, but knew that he deserved whatever was to come.

Fingers twined in his hair, carefully forcing him to turn his head toward
Angel. "Xander, there's nothing to forgive." His voice was surprised, and
infinitely gentle. "You should be the one who is upset. You're the one who
should feel used."

The dark-haired man's eyes opened in shock. "What are you talking about? Are
you insane? Did the last few days happen different for you than for me? All
of you had sex with me, and none of you wanted to!"

He saw Angel getting ready to object. "And don't tell me it doesn't count
because I didn't physically forced you into it. There was no way that you
could have said no. Your good-guy license wouldn't let you. You couldn't let
me die, or you'd just get way too broody and depressed. Not too mention how
much you feel that you can't let Buffy down. No way could you let one of the
Slayerettes die - you'd never be able to face her."

"What about me?" Doyle asked. "I don't owe the Slayer anything."

"No, but you've got a good-guy license, too. You just went along with
Angel."

Cool hands rubbed up and down his arm. "And me, love? Why did I do it?"

Xander shuddered, resisting the urge to hid his face against Spike's chest. 
"Because you could. Because you could use the information to make Buffy's
life miserable, or blackmail me into whatever you need. You said yourself
Giles and Angel would be more likely to help you if you helped me." His
breath hitched in his chest. "Because you're an evil soulless vampire. What
more reason do you need?"

The tears were coming faster now, and they were impossible to stop. He was
still exhausted from the past few days, and now he was forced to recite his
crimes. He had used all of these men. To save his life, true, but it wasn't
as though he wasn't attracted to them already. Circumstances had allowed him
to drag their realities into his fantasies. He was a monster, and there was
no way he could atone for what he'd done.

***** Part Seventeen

Angel stared at the quietly weeping man for a moment in complete disbelief. 
Did Xander really believe what he was saying? Had he forgotten about Spike's
possessive claims on him, or Angel's own admissions? 

With a silent groan, Angel realized he did believe. The vampire knew guilt,
knew how it could twist a person's thinking and way of viewing the past. 
Xander hadn't forgotten the declarations; he was just disregarding them
because of the guilt he was feeling.

Angel scooted closer to Xander. He ignored his Childe's growl of warning, and
the way the other vampire pulled the mortal closer to him in a blatantly
possessive gesture. There would be time later enough to correct Spike's
misapprehensions about to whom Xander really belonged. Right now, he had to
get Xander to see the truth of what had happened, to help him to dig himself
out from under the weight he had placed on himself.

"You're wrong," he said firmly. "You didn't coerce us into anything. We all
wanted to help you." He forestalled Xander's protests by placing a single
finger on his lips. "I know you can remember everything we said to you. 
Everything *I* said to you." He stared into the dark eyes, so close to his
own. "I meant it, Xander."

Still, the younger man shook his head. "You never would have done any of this
if I hadn't asked you to. You wouldn't have come to me."

Angel thought he could hear the slightest hint of hope in Xander's voice, so
he pressed on. "You're right about that. I wouldn't have gone back to
Sunnydale, but only because I never thought I'd have a chance with you. I
never thought there could ever be anything more between us." 

He ran a caressing hand across Xander's jaw, then down to stroke his throat. 
"I regret that it took such extreme circumstances, that you had to go through
the effects of the demon, but I can't regret the chance I have with you now. 
I don't regret anything that we did either." A small smile crossed his face. 
"I hope we have a chance to do it again, under better circumstances."

He took it as a hopeful sign when the mortal didn't object. Instead, Xander
stared at him, the disbelief and self-loathing slowly disappearing from his
eyes. Angel felt himself being drawn in by the brown-eyed gaze, and he leaned
closer to the younger man. He wanted to reassure Xander, to feel his warmth,
to taste his mouth again.

An impatient throat clearing distracted him, and he glanced over at Doyle. 
The Irishman was glaring at him mildly. "Do you think I might have a chance
to talk with him, too?"

A small smile touched Angel's lips. He'd gotten so wrapped up Xander that
he'd forgotten about the others in the room, that they also had an interest in
the human. He sat back and inclined his head, watching as Xander shifted in
Spike's arms to be able to look at the half-demon.

The green-eyed man smiled a little lopsidedly, but his gaze was intense and
sincere as he held Xander's gaze. "I know we don't share a history, or
anything like that, but I want you to believe a few things. First, if I don't
want to do something, everyone around me knows it. I'm perfectly capable of
protesting, kicking and screaming, all the way through anything I'm forced to
do." His smile grew into a grin. "I do recall doing a bit of screaming with
you, but I assure you complaining had nothing to do with it.

"I don't have a long-standing old longing for you, but I did want you. I *do*
want you." He reached out a hesitant hand and brushed his fingers over
Xander's shoulder. "I hope you really won't be leaving so soon. I've been
hoping that you feel something like I do, like there might be something
between us. I really want to find out that there is."

Xander's eyebrows drew together. "But you don't even know me..."

"I know enough. Sitting in the office with you, I began to feel it, and it's
only gotten stronger. I hope you maybe felt something, too."

The brown-eyed man stared at him, then glanced back at Angel. "I do feel
something, for both of you. Angel, you must have suspected back in
Sunnydale..." his voice trailed away.

Angel nodded. "I did, but I could hardly believe it was true, and then I
didn't trust myself enough to do anything about it. And it was never the
right time, for either of us."

Xander smiled a little in agreement, then glanced at Doyle. "And I began to
feel something in the office, beyond what the fire was doing to me. I don't
know what it will become-"

"All I want is a chance," Doyle said. "Well, a chance, and you," he corrected
with a grin.

"And what about what I want?" Spike interrupted. Angel was surprised that his
Childe had managed to remain silent for so long. He shifted a little where he
sat, getting ready to intervene if necessary.

Xander wriggled around in the vampire's arms until he was facing him. "What
do you want?" he asked, his voice very quiet.

"I already told you, love. I want you. I don't want to lose you." He turned
an angry glare on Angel and Doyle. "So you two can just back off and wait in
line. Xander's mine."

Angel watched Xander carefully. He seemed a little frightened by Spike's
possessiveness, but he didn't shrink away or back down.

"I'm yours?" he said quietly.

The blond vampire transferred his attention back to the man in his arms. 
"Mine," he reiterated. "I want you, I don't want to let you go." He pulled
Xander closer to him, nuzzling at his neck. "I won't tell the damn Slayer or
anyone else what's happened, I won't do anything that you don't want me to. I
want you. You're mine."

Angel heard the truth in his Childe's voice, and was surprised by it. Spike
had fallen, and fallen hard for Xander. Of course, he himself was quickly
following Spike, and he knew Doyle wasn't far behind.

Xander tipped his head back a little, clearly accepting the caresses. 
"I...I'm mostly confused," he admitted, voice a little husky. He glance at
the men around him. "But I really want to believe everything you've said." 
He hesitated for a moment. "All of you."

Angel felt a surge of triumph. "Whatever it takes to convince you,
I'll...*we'll* do." Spike and Doyle both nodded. The older vampire watched
Xander relax, relieved that he wasn't going to try to run any more. He had
the urge to hold his breath as he waited for the other man to come to a
decision.

***** Part Eighteen

Spike stared avidly at Xander's face, desperate to read what the dark-eyed man
was thinking while he struggled for words. It was hard to wait, hard to stop
himself from just kissing the boy into submission. Or trying to, anyway. He
remembered that Xander had never been an easy one to push into anything.

Xander shook his head slowly. "This isn't happening. It's a dream - I've had
some really vivid dreams before. Although none of them were as nice as this
one."

"This is no dream," Spike said quietly. "It might not make a lot of sense,
but it's real." He raised his hand and skimmed his fingers over one of
Xander's cheeks. "I know it seems crazy, but I care about you. I want you in
my life; I'm not going to let you go."

He watched as the mortal took in his words, and tried to will him to believe. 
Spike knew he had it bad. Why else would he be longing to smooth away the
furrows in his brow? Why else would having Xander's cooperation be so far
down in his estimation of importance, far below having his love and his
trust?

When brown eyes caught his own blue, the vampire returned the stare evenly,
refusing to give into the urge to look away, to hide what he was feeling. 
Evidently, the human saw something in his gaze, because Xander's brow
smoothed, and a wondering look came into his eyes.

With a low growl, Spike leaned forward and captured Xander's mouth in a
gentle, probing kiss. He pressed closer, not able to get enough of the taste,
the warmth of the other man. He tried to prove his words true and reassure
him using his lips and tongue. After a few moments, he pulled back and waited
for Xander to open his eyes again. "I know you need time to think, love. 
Take as much as you need; I'll be here waiting for you."

A final short kiss, and Spike tore himself away from the man in his arms,
knowing that he had to let him be alone, to come to a decision on his own, and
hating it. He settled Xander down on the mattress, and then got ready to
shove himself to his feet. Before he could, a warm hand wrapped around his
wrist.

Xander stared at him intently. "You're telling me the truth, aren't you?"

"Course I am," he replied, leaning over for one more kiss. His lips
millimeters away from Xander's, he whispered, "I'm always going to tell *you*
the truth, Xander. Never going to hurt you, or let any thing else hurt you
either." Other promises were inside him, but he didn't voice them, not
wanting to push the other man too far too fast. He gave the dark-haired man a
final, almost chaste kiss.

*Almost* chaste. He was kissing Xander, after all, he had never claimed to be
a saint, or that strong. 

He walked out of the room, with Doyle reluctantly at his heels. As he walked
through the doorway, he heard Angel say very quietly, "He's telling the truth,
Xander. I can tell." Then his Sire was leaving the room as well. 

Spike led the others up into the office. He didn't want Xander to hear what
he had to say, not yet anyway. First he had to get the two men behind him to
agree to his plan before he persuaded Xander to go along with it as well.

Inside the office, he perched himself on the edge of Angel's desk and crossed
his arms in front of his chest. He fixed his Sire with his most sardonic
stare. "You want the kid, too, hmm? So you're not going to give me anymore
trouble about him staying here with you for a little while. It'll make things
easier for you, then."

Angel frowned. "This again? I don't understand - why do you want Xander to
stay here? Why are you so against him going back to Sunnydale?" The older
vampire wasn't objecting, Spike could tell. He was asking questions, but he
wasn't against the idea. That attraction to Xander was obviously still strong
and functioning.

"There is no way I'm letting him go back there." A simple statement of fact. 
No way was he going to budge on this. No way.

"Why are you so adamant about this?" Doyle asked. "Not that I'm complaining,
mind. I don't want him to leave. But I'd think you'd be eager to take him
home, get him away from the rest of us."

"Why should he go back to Sunnydale? So he can be ignored by his so-called
friends? So they can eventually get him killed? They came damn close with
this fuck up; I don't want to give them any more chances. Even without them,
the place is crawling with demons, and Xander's charm doesn't seem to work on
them." He watched as Angel nodded. Good; he had the other man almost hooked.
Now for the kicker. "And if you ignore all that, that still leaves his
parents. I'll stake myself before I let him get within miles of those fucking
bastards."

"What are you talking about?" Angel demanded.

Spike stood up and began to pace restlessly. "I can't believe no one ever
noticed. Or maybe those friends of his just never really cared. Of course,
none of them ever lived with him, and I did, for a little while. Most of the
time he was hurting and bruised, it had nothing to do with whatever the Slayer
had dragged him into the night before. It was his parents."

"His parents? They hit him? Why?"

"Because he was breathing? Because the sun rises in the east? Because
they're a couple of useless drunks? Who knows? All that matters is that they
do, and that I'm never going to let them do it again." He turned and advanced
on Angel aggressively. "As soon as this chip is out of my head, I'm going to
pay them a little visit. Maybe drop in on his friends, too."

"No," his Sire said firmly. "If for no other reason, than because Xander
wouldn't want you to kill them." He paused. "You're sure about his
parents?"

"Positive. Why do you think he's so hung up on coercion? He's escaped
unscathed, but from what I saw, his father isn't above using it on his mother.
Xander hates the bastard; he'd probably rather die than become anything like
him."

Doyle nodded. "Some of the things he's done...the way he uses humor as a
good, but obvious, defense, the way he doesn't believe people could want him
for him...it sounds like the signs I was trained to watch for, to help to
figure out if a kid was being abused." His jaw hardened. "If it's true, then
I might just go back to Sunnydale with Spike. There's no chip in *my* head."

Spike raised an eyebrow and smirked. Looked like the half-breed might have
some potential after all. He might just be worthy of Xander, at least a
little. 

Angel sighed heavily. "Neither of you are going to Sunnydale, and no one is
going to be killed." For a moment, his brown gaze flickered golden. "At
least, not yet." Then he had control over himself. "But Xander can stay, as
long as he wants."

Spike controlled his sense of triumph. No need to get his Sire's back up, not
after he had what he wanted. Xander was going to be able to stay in LA, far
from anyone who might interfere with his pursuit of the mortal. Far from the
people and creatures that had hurt him.

The vampire's smirk became somewhat self-mocking. It seemed as though he'd
found a new purpose in life. Xander had been willing to die before hurting
him. Now all he wanted to do was be sure that no one, that nothing, ever had
a chance to hurt the mortal again.

If that meant letting Angel and Doyle help, then so be it.

If Xander wanted it that way, then he would have it.

***** Part Nineten

Doyle watched as a satisfied smile slid across Spike's face. The Irishman's
eyebrows drew together in a frown, and he crossed his arms in front of his
chest. He took an aggressive step forward and caught the vampire's gaze. 
"Why do you care?" he demanded.

"What?" Spike looked confused, but that didn't mean anything. Doyle had
almost no trust for the blond man. Only the fact that the vampire seemed
focused on Xander's well-being stopped Doyle from completely distrusting him. 


"Why do you care so much about Xander? From everything I've been told, you've
tried to kill him more than once. Now everything's changed? The evil
soulless vampire has changed his tune?" Doyle was vaguely aware of Angel
moving to stand nearby, to intervene if necessary, and while he was grateful,
there was no way he was going to back down. Not if Xander's welfare was at
stake.

The smile slid away from Spike's face. "I'd suggest backing off," he said
quietly. "Xander seems to like you, and so I'd really rather not have to kill
you."

Doyle shook his head stubbornly. "I'm not going to let him be hurt,
especially not by you."

"What the fuck business is it of yours? Four days ago, you had no idea who he
was, and now you're trying to challenge me?"

The half-demon blinked. He really didn't have an answer. He didn't know why
Xander was so important to him; all he knew was that the other man mattered,
more than anything else had in a long time. With no answer, he settled for
glaring at Spike and refusing to back down.

To his surprise, Spike grinned at him. "Makes you crazy, doesn't it? 
Xander's special. Why do you think I was never able to kill him? There's
just something about him, and the more time you spend with him, the more
you'll realize it."

Doyle nodded. "There is that. But am I supposed to believe that him being
special is a good enough reason to trust you anywhere near him?"

The grin disappeared once more. "Look, half-breed. I don't have to explain
myself to you." The blue glaze wandered over Doyle's shoulder to rest on
Angel for a moment. "But I will," the vampire relented. "When he first ran
into me, Xander made it clear that he wasn't going to hurt me, that he'd
rather die than hurt anyone. Including me. He's always been more worried
about forcing me into something than about saving himself. I'm not going to
let him go, and I'm not going to let anything hurt him. You understand? That
includes his family, his friends. It includes you." Spike's voice was
fierce. "Xander is special. And he's mine."

Doyle shook his head. "No. Xander is his own. That means I have a chance to
have something with him."

Spike growled and took a step forward.

Then Angel spoke. "It means I have a chance as well."

Spike hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. "Fine. Xander seems to like you
two, god only knows why. So long as neither of you does anything to so much
as upset him, I'll let you near him."

Doyle glanced over at Angel. The taller vampire shrugged. "I didn't expect
to get that much out of him. So long as we've all got Xander, and keeping him
happy and safe foremost in our minds, I think we can make this work."

The half-demon nodded his agreement, and after a moment, Spike did so as well.


"Good. Now that that's settled, Spike, grab your boots. I'm almost out of
blood, and you're going to help me get more."

"No. I'm going to go back downstairs and check on Xander."

"No, you're not. You're eating my food, you can help me get more." Doyle
could hear an odd note of command in Angel's voice. With a small shiver, he
realized that the vampire was calling on his authority as Spike's Sire in
order to command the other man.

The blond vampire snarled, but stomped over to the elevator. Angel watched
him go, then looked over at Doyle. "We'll be back soon, but you'll have a
little time."

Doyle stared at him. How did Angel know? He'd wanted a chance to talk to
Xander alone. Spike and Angel both had a past with him. The Irishman wanted
to be able to assure Xander that his feelings were real, and to just talk to
him, get to know him better, even though he felt like he'd already known the
other man forever. "Thanks," he said gratefully. 

As soon as the two vampires were gone, Doyle headed back downstairs. He
paused in the doorway, staring in at the man sleeping in the bed. Angel had
warned him while they were gathering materials for the spell that if it
worked, Xander was going to be worn out for days afterwards while he recovered
from the infection that had coursed through him.

He walked into the room and sat down on the bed. He reached out and stroked
his hand over the dark hair, enjoying the feel of soft hair under his palm. 
Xander was lying face down, arms curled tightly around the pillow he hugged to
his chest.

With a quiet interrogative murmur, Xander opened his eyes. He stared at Doyle
for a moment, and smiled tentatively. "Still not a dream?"

Doyle grinned back at him. "Not a dream," he answered. He moved his hand so
he could brush his fingers down Xander's cheek. "It's all real."

The brown-eyed man went very still for a moment, then relaxed into the caress.
"It's still hard to believe," he admitted, sitting up.

Doyle swallowed hard and moved a little closer to the other man. "Are you all
right with what you do believe?"

Xander nodded. "I'm having an X-Files moment here. I want to believe, you
know? In what happened, in what I feel." His voice dropped into a whisper. 
"In what you all say you feel."

The Irishman did know what Xander meant. He desperately wanted Xander to
believe as well. He reached out and slowly pulled the other man into his
arms. "Is this all right?" he asked quietly.

"More than all right," Xander answered, wrapping his arms around Doyle's
waist.

Doyle tilted his head so he could speak directly into Xander's ear. "It's a
lot to take in, I know. But I'm going to be here for you, we all are, and we
want you take as long as you need to figure out if this is what you want. If
we're what you want."

The brown-eyed man laughed a little, and moved closer into Doyle's arms. "Oh,
I definitely want. I just don't know if I can have." 

There was something lost in his voice, and Doyle was reminded of some of the
other stories Cordelia had told him, about Xander's disastrous forays into
love. He tightened his embrace. "You can have anything you want." Listening
to a rumbling noise, he laughed. "And right now, I'm thinking you want
food."

"This is almost as good," Xander murmured. He pulled back a little. "It's
strange. I feel like I know you already."

"Like there's a connection between us? I feel it too." Doyle licked his
lips. "I like it."

"So do I." After a moment of hesitation, Xander leaned forward and kissed
Doyle gently. The half-demon responded eagerly, losing himself in the feel of
the real Xander, without the desperate edge that he'd known so far. After a
few minutes, he leaned back. "There's something you should know about me."

Xander looked at him questioningly.

"I'm...not completely human."

"Well, of course not." The brown-eyed man shrugged, and grinned wryly. "No
one I get involved with is."

"Oh. Right. Cordy mentioned something like that. I'm half-Bracchen; that's
a sort of demon." Seeing Xander make no move to pull away, Doyle allowed
himself to slip into demon form.

The younger man inhaled sharply, then reached up and ran a gentle finger over
one of the spikes protruding from Doyle's skin. He met the Irishman's eyes
evenly. "I'm OK with this," he promised. "If you're with Angel, that means
you're not a havoc-wreaking sort of demon. So long as you're one of the good
guys, I'm fine with this. I feel the connection to *you*, not how you look."

Heaving a huge sigh of relief, Doyle pulled himself back into human form. He
kissed Xander again, but pulled back at the sound of more muted rumbles from
the other man's stomach. "Food?"

Xander's stomach answered for him, and he smiled ruefully. "Food," he agreed.
He climbed out of bed, but didn't follow Doyle immediately. He paused, and
grabbed the pyjama bottoms he'd been wearing earlier; they were wadded up in a
corner of the bedroom floor. "I still want to ask Angel about these." 
Sharing a grin, he followed Doyle to the kitchen.

*****

Part Twenty

Xander ran his finger around the edge of his plate, scraping up all the crumbs
he could, before licking them off. He glanced up to see Doyle staring at him.
Flushing a little, he said, "I like tuna melts."

"I like you liking them," the other man said, gaze still fixed on him.

Xander realized that he was still licking his finger. He blushed harder, then
looked away. 

Immediately, the half-demon was beside him. "Hey, I didn't mean to embarrass
you or anything." Gentle hands touched his shoulder in comforting strokes.

The brown-eyed man looked up. "It's ok, really. This is just going to take
some getting used to." Doyle nodded encouragingly, and Xander kept going. He
felt like he could say anything to the other man. It was a part of that
connection, and it was something he missed. He'd felt like that with Willow,
once. Not any more, though. Not for a long time. "I mean, the idea that
someone is even interested in me, you know?"

"No, I don't. I can't imagine someone not being interested."

Xander smiled, even though he was beginning to think his blush was becoming
permanent. "And it's strange that I can be interested back. I mean, for so
long, Angel and Spike were like these dirty little fantasies that I should
have been ashamed of myself for having, and now they're my reality." He
leaned in a little closer to Doyle. "And you're my reality too, but it still
doesn't feel real." He paused. "Am I making any sense at all?"

"Yeah. My reality is a little weird anyway. You're definitely one of the
nicer parts of it. I don't have to endure migraines to have you. Of course,
I'm not so sure Spike is all that much better..."

"Migraines?" Xander asked. He turned to face Doyle more fully. 

"Yeah. I get visions from The Powers That Be, sort of a guide for Angel. 
They come along with great splitting headaches that hurt like a son of a
bitch."

Xander grimaced in sympathy. "That sucks. And I bet Angel hates it, too. He
doesn't think anyone should feel pain but him." It was true. Angel never
wanted to share the angst. He always worried about everyone else...

"Shit!" Xander jumped to his feet, nearly knocking Doyle over. "I can't
believe I forgot! I am so fucking stupid..." He began to pace around the
kitchen, feeling trapped by the walls in the room, but he didn't want to leave
them either. How could he have been so stupid? What was wrong with him?

As he paced, he was aware that Doyle was following him, trailing in his wake,
but he couldn't stop to answer any of the other man's questions. He had
fucked up royally, and he couldn't see anyway that he could dig himself out of
the pit he'd dug for himself. 

He kept moving, blind to everything except the mistake he'd made. He
continued pacing until he crashed into something. He stopped and looked up,
directly into Spike's worried gaze.

"What's wrong?" The blond man shoved the bag he was holding at Angel, then
grabbed Xander by the arms, holding him forcibly still. "Are you all right? 
Did the cure not work? Love, what is it?"

"This is all your fault!" Xander poked the vampire in the chest. "You didn't
let me kill myself, so it's your fault!" He knew he wasn't making sense, but
it was true. It was all Spike's fault. Now he had someone else to blame, so
maybe he wasn't a completely giant fuck up.

"What are you raving about?"

"When I left my house I thought I was going to die," Xander explained. "I
left all my death stuff on my bed. Suicide note, apologies, a fucking will
for all of my pathetic shit. Willow and the others must be going out of their
minds. I can't believe I forgot them..." Listening to himself list the
problems just drove home how colossally he had screwed up. Xander could feel
himself begin to hyperventilate, and he sucked in air desperately.

Spike shook him gently. "Calm down. Breathe. What are you worrying about? 
So they think you're dead. They'll get over it."

Xander glared at him, but he couldn't put any heat into it. He really hadn't
expected anything else from him. He knew how much Spike hated the Scooby
Gang. He turned to look at Angel, hoping for some sort of sympathy.

The tall vampire placed all the bags in the refrigerator, then walked over to
stand beside Spike. He scowled down at his Childe, then pulled Xander over to
stand by the counter. "You can use the phone to call them, let them know that
you're safe."

"Good idea. No, wait, bad idea! Very bad idea! What do I say?" How the
hell would that conversation go? 'Oh, by the way, guys, I *am* alive, and I
had sex with Spike and Angel and a guy I just met?' Suddenly, it became very
hard to breathe.

Cool hands cupped his cheeks, and he was forced to look into worried brown
eyes. "Breathe Xander." Angel leaned closer, brushing his lips over Xander's
forehead. "I'm right here. We're all here, and we'll get you through this."

The mortal nodded shakily and gulped in air. As he did so, he felt a warm
body embrace him from behind. A few moments later, and there was a third set
of arms encircling him from the side. Again, a sense of unreality washed over
Xander. Could this be real? Three people who cared about him, who were there
for him? He wasn't sure how to react at first, but then decided to go with
his heart. He relaxed into the embrace, drawing comfort from it. After a few
moments, he murmured. "Where's the phone?"

Angle stepped back and smiled at him. "We'll still be right here," he
promised, picking up the phone and handing it to him.

Xander nodded gratefully and quickly dialed the number to Buffy and Willow's
room. As the other end of the line began to ring, he felt his breathing begin
to speed up. Cool arms around his waist steadied him, and he leaned back
gratefully into the embrace. To his surprise, it was Angel who had moved to
hold him.

//Hello?// Good, it was Willow. Somehow, he knew he wouldn't be able to talk
to Buffy, not with Angel holding him so close. He didn't feel guilty,
exactly, but it would've been way more awkward than he was capable of
handling.

"Willow, please don't freak out. It's me. Xander." God, he hoped she wasn't
too upset. He knew that it would destroy him if he lost her; she had been
such a huge part of his life for so long, even with the distance there was
between them now.

//Xander, are you feeling all right? Why would I freak out? Is something
wrong?//

Only Angel's arms kept him upright. As it was, the brown-eyed man swayed
dangerously before he regained his balance. His eyes slipped close, and he
swallowed hard. "No, nothing's wrong." He couldn't believe his voice was so
steady. It was like the words were coming from someone else, someone whose
heart hadn't just stopped beating. "I was just worried that you might be
worried, since I haven't seen you in a few days, and I didn't want you
worrying, so I called-"

//Xander, calm down. I'm fine. You're fine. You are fine, right? You sound
a little funny.//

"Me? No, I'm good. Now that I don't have to worry about you worrying, I'm
great. So things are ok? I didn't miss an apocalypse?"

//Things are fine. Buffy and Riley are still making up, but they'll have to
stop soon, or they'll wear themselves out. I've been kind of into a spell
Tara and I are working on. Speaking of...I've got to go. I'll see you soon,
ok?//

"Sounds good, Wills. I'll catch you later." He hung up the phone and stared
at it, not moving, not speaking.

"Xander?" Angel's voice rumbled in his chest, the vibrations carrying through
to the mortal's back.

The dark-haired man started, then shrugged as nonchalantly as he could manage
with his stomach twisting into tiny knots. He cleared his throat and began to
speak without turning around. "They're all doing really well. Everyone's
safe, and the world isn't in any danger of ending, at least not anymore than
usual." He could hear his words blurring together, but he couldn't slow
down.

Strong hands forced him to turn around and face Angel. The vampire stared
down at him, understanding and sympathy and muted rage in his eyes. "They
didn't find the notes?" he asked gently, but his voice said he already knew
the answer.

Misery intermixed with shame rose in Xander's throat, and he nodded. "Didn't
even notice I was gone," he admitted, blinking back tears.

Spike slammed his fist into the wall. "That's it. I'm going to kill them. 
All of them. It's going to take days."

The hands on Xander's shoulders tightened for a moment, and then Angel said,
"You don't have days. You've got one, and you'll be too busy to hunt them
down." He stared down at Xander. "You can go back to pack your things and
say good-bye. That shouldn't take more than a few hours. Then you're coming
right back here."

What was Angel talking about? He stared up at the other man. "I don't
understand."

"You're not going back to Sunnydale except to pack." He smiled and stroked
his hands up and down Xander's arms. "I don't want to be apart from you. I
want you to come to LA, live here. With me would be perfect, but anything, so
long as you're near."

Xander gaped at him. He knew Angel cared; the vampire had told him so, and he
was pretty sure he believed him. But to ask him to move to LA? He hadn't
expected this. Fantasized about it, yes, but never expected it. "But, I'd
have to leave home. Leave Willow and Buffy and Giles."

"Good." The fierce declaration came from Doyle, and Xander turned to stare at
him. 

"I don't want you to go, either. I don't think my apartment is good enough
for you, but I could find another. Or stay with Angel. So long as you stay."
He walked over to stand in front of Xander, and raised one hand to cup his
cheek. "They don't deserve you. I'm not saying I do, but I want you to
stay." He leaned forward and kissed Xander softly. "Please."

The brown-eyed man shook his head. He didn't want to leave them. He hadn't
even thought about the future, about what he was going to do now that he was
cured. The fact that he even had a future was rather unexpected. But stay in
LA? Leave everything he had, everyone he knew?

He heard a muttered curse, and then Spike was pulling him away from the other
two men. "Bloody idiots, rushing things. No idea how to ask you." Blue eyes
fixed Xander with an intense stare. "You're not going back there. Your
friends don't deserve you, and it's too dangerous. I'm not going to lose you,
not to some demon who gets in a lucky shot. This last time was too close." 

Xander got ready to object. He'd survived high school on the Hellmouth, thank
you very much. He could take care of himself. Before he could say anything,
his mouth was claimed in a kiss that tasted of desperation. He soon found
himself returning the caress with equal urgency. Finally, it came to end.

"Please, love," the vampire whispered against his mouth. "Please don't leave
me. Don't leave *us*."

The dark-haired man looked at the three men who were staring so hopefully at
him. Brown eyes filled with sympathy and pleading, green filled with hope and
anger, and blue filled with desperation and the lingering hints of murderous
rage. And all of them contained love and want and need - all for him. 

He nodded slowly. "I'll stay." Why not? Here he was loved and wanted. He
could probably even help Angel and Doyle out. He'd just been shown how little
difference he was making in Sunnydale.

Spike shouted triumphantly, and kissed Xander again, and then Doyle was there,
and Angel, all three trying to prove how pleased they were. 

After the impromptu celebration, Xander sagged heavily against Spike, all his
energy draining away. "I think I overdid it," he murmured.

The blond man held him upright. "Back to bed with you."

"But I don't want to keep putting Angel out," Xander protested. "The couch
will be fine."

"I hate sleeping on the couch. The two of us will barely fit there, anyway. 
Come to the bed."

"What makes you think I won't be joining you?" the tall vampire asked. 
Ignoring Spike's glare, he leaned down and kissed the mortal again. "If you
like, I'll lay down with you, keep you company while you rest."

"Only if you don't wear pyjamas," Xander said, a sly smile crossing his face. 
"I don't want to have nightmares." He watched in delight as Angel cringed.

"I'll only say this once," the tall vampire said. "Cordelia. Gift. *Never*
worn."

"It doesn't matter, anyway. I'll be there," Spike objected. "He doesn't need
you."

"Yes, I do," Xander said quietly. He didn't want to hurt Spike, but he had to
tell the truth. "I need, and want, all of you. I don't know if that makes me
greedy or lucky or insane, but it's the truth. Not too much is making sense
right now, but I know this. I know it's real."

"Then you've got us," Doyle said. Angel nodded.

After a long pause, Spike's embrace tightened. "You've got us," he agreed
quietly.

Xander turned and kissed him hard. He'd seen Spike's possessiveness, and knew
how hard this was for the vampire. The blond man returned the kiss fiercely,
refusing to end it, instead walking Xander carefully to the bedroom while
continuing it.

When they finally reached the bed, Xander was exhausted, worn out by the phone
call and his panic and his decision. He cooperated, barely, as Spike pulled
away his shirt and pants and moved him beneath the covers. As he slid into
sleep, he felt Spike climb into be with him, and pull him to lie on top of a
cool body. A little while later, he felt cool arms embrace him from one side,
and warm from the other.

Blissfully content, Xander lost himself to his dreams.

*****

Part Twenty-One

Angel shifted the body in his arms and hugged the warmth closer to his chest,
still more asleep than awake. He hadn't expected to sleep, but casting the
spell had taken more out of him then he had thought, and he'd quickly joined
Xander in slumber. It was strange to be sharing his bed with three other
people, but having Xander close to him more than made it worth it. He inhaled
deeply, breathing in the scent of the man lying on top of him.

Who wasn't Xander.

The tall man's eyes snapped open, and he looked down to see that it was Doyle
he was cradling so close, Doyle whose warmth was spread so deliciously across
his skin. The half-demon was still asleep, soft and pliant as he continued to
dream. So if Doyle was on him, where was Xander?

He turned his head to the side and got his answer. Xander was lying off to
the side, almost completely hidden beneath Spike. The blond vampire was
wrapped around the mortal, his face buried in the other man's neck.

Angel was tempted to be jealous. Why did Spike get to hold Xander? Angel
cared about him, too. He stared speculatively at his Childe. Spike had
always been reluctant to share his toys with others, but this was more than
that. Xander wasn't a toy to the younger vampire.

In fact, it looked like he was rapidly becoming everything to him.

Vampires were capable of love. Of course, it usually ended up being twisted
by the demon within them, turning violent and dark. Angel had seen Spike
caught up in that sort of tainted love; as devoted as the blond man was to
Dru, the connection between them was marked by violence and twisted by evil.

Fortunately, there was nothing of that in Spike's actions toward Xander. 
Angel remembered what Spike had said during his last confrontation with Doyle,
about Xander refusing to hurt him. He had no illusions about the way he had
treated the other vampire; Angelus was a sadistic bastard, and his Childe had
often been the target of his violence and manipulations.

Of course, being a vampire, Spike had probably enjoyed some of their time
together, but Angel wasn't sure. Angelus hadn't cared, and Angel had never
had the opportunity to ask. Perhaps he should. He knew he wasn't going to
let go of Xander, not now that the man had agreed to move to LA, and Spike had
made his desire to stay with Xander clear. If they were going to both be with
Xander, some sort of peace would have to be worked out between them.

At least they had a starting point to build from: Xander. Both of them cared
about him. Angel was mildly worried that he might have to watch Spike to be
sure that the other vampire didn't overprotect Xander with his usual
enthusiasm. Apparently, the fact that the mortal had tried to protect Spike
had won the vampire completely to his side, and Spike was going to return the
favor. As angry as Angel was with Xander's friends in Sunnydale, he didn't
want to see them dead. Anyone who hurt Xander was going to have to watch his
step. 

And if Spike didn't get him, then Doyle probably would. Angel hadn't expected
this; not Doyle and Xander, and certainly not Doyle's fierce protectiveness of
the younger man. As unexpected as it was, he was glad of it. Anything that
would help to guarantee Xander was kept safe was fine by him. 

Just so long as Doyle and Spike didn't join forces, he was fairly certain he
could keep them under control. And if that failed, he knew that both men
would obey any wishes of Xander's.

Just like he would.

Before he could begin to consider just how deeply he had fallen for the
mortal, Angel was distracted by movement from the man in his arms. With a
sleepy murmur, Doyle slowly came awake, his eyes drifting open lazily. The
half-demon froze as he realized where he was, embarrassment staining his
cheeks. He began to pull away.

Before Angel could think, he reacted, tightening his hold on the other man,
preventing him from leaving. He realized that he didn't want Doyle to go; he
cared about the other man, more than he'd realized. He'd always recognized
how attractive the green-eyed man was, and if they were going to be this close
because of Xander, he'd like to have a chance to maybe be even closer.

He raised a hand and trailed one finger down Doyle's cheek. "You don't have
to move, if you don't want to. I don't want you to."

The half-demon flushed even more, but he relaxed back into Angel's arms. "I'd
like to stay," he admitted.

The tall vampire hesitated for a moment, then leaned up to capture Doyle's
lips in a soft kiss. After a moment he lay back down, watching the other man
carefully.

The green-eyed man licked his lips. "I liked that. But I'm not sure I
understand."

"We both care about Xander. If he really wants all of us with him, we need to
get along. And I've always been attracted to you. I'd like to find out where
this can go."

Doyle relaxed even further against him. "Me, too. I know I don't want to
give up Xander, but even Cordy knows I've been attracted to you." This time
it was he who initiated the kiss. After it ended, they grinned at each
other.

"Now that you two have settled all that, would you shut the hell up? You'll
wake him up with all that chattering. He won't let me kill you, but I can
still kick the shit out of you."

Angel turned his head at the sound of the hissed warning. Spike had turned
his head, and was glaring at them venomously as he wrapped himself even more
firmly around Xander.

"What about you?" Angel asked. "Anything you want to get settled?"

"What's to settle? I want Xander, Xander wants you. So long as I can have
him, nothing else matters."

"It's not that simple, and you know it."

Blue eyes narrowed, then softened, just a little. "I know. I can handle
this." A long pause, and then, very quietly, "Things weren't always bad
between us."

Angel nodded. "There have been times that I've missed you, more than you
might believe."

Spike returned the nod. "Same here." Then the familiar sneer twisted his
lips. "But I'm only putting up with you because of Xander. The same goes for
you, half-breed. Now shut the hell up and let him sleep." He glared at both
of them for a moment, then turned his head and buried his face once more in
Xander's shoulder.

Angel glanced at Doyle and smiled a little. //I'll explain later// he
mouthed. The Irishman nodded, and then settled down on top of Angel, resting
his head against his chest. After a few moments, his deep, even breathing
revealed that he had fallen asleep.

Angel's smile remained. Even after all that had passed between them, he could
still read his Childe, still know what was going on behind his blue eyes. 
Spike didn't hate him, or Doyle, no matter how much he might like them to
believe he did. The fact that he was willing to lie in bed with both of them
showed that. 

Nothing could make Spike do something that he truly did not want to do. 
Angelus and Angel had both discovered that on numerous occasions. If he
really didn't want to be near Angel and Doyle, then he wouldn't be. Angel
knew that Spike probably missed him as he missed his Childe, and he had seen
definite signs that Spike was softening toward Doyle. 

It was probably the half-demon's dogged determination to protect Xander that
was winning the other vampire over. The fact that Spike had limited himself
to just bickering and arguing with the green-eyed man instead of attempting to
eat his heart revealed much about Spike's true feelings toward the other man. 
Very little restrained the blond vampire's killing instinct, and even Xander's
wish might not have been enough to stop all violence between them. There had
to be something more making Spike restrain himself. Feeling more optimistic
for the future, Angel closed his eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep again.

When he next awoke, it was to the sound of voices.

"Back off!"

"No fucking way. You don't like me here, *you* can back off."

"Guys..."

"I don't really care what you like. This is about Xander."

"It about your hands on *my* Xander!"

"Guys..."

"Your Xander? *Your* Xander?"

"Fuck, I thought you were smarter than you looked. You'd almost have to be. 
*My* Xander."

"Guys, you're going to wake up Angel."

"Too late," Angel said, rolling over and opening his eyes. "I'm up." He had
to repress a grin when he saw what all the bickering was about. Doyle was
sitting on the edge of the bed, one of his hands on Xander's chest, while
Spike was curled up behind the dark-haired mortal, his arms wrapped
possessively around his waist.

The half-demon looked imploringly over at Angel. "I was just trying to wake
up Xander, when this idiot started to get involved." He glared at Spike. 
"He's not yours."

Spike just bared his teeth and growled as answer.

Xander caught Angel's gaze. "Are they both usually this bad about sharing?"
he asked, a tired grin on his face.

"I think this is even worse than their usual - which I didn't know was
possible," Angel answered. Ignoring his Childe's growling, he leaned past the
blond to kiss Xander, leisurely exploring the warm mouth with his tongue
before pulling back. "Hello, Xander."

"Hey," the brown-eyed man replied, his voice a dreamy husk.

Still hovering over Xander, Angel leaned a bit farther and kissed Doyle. He
then looked down at Spike, hesitating. How far could he go? What would Spike
permit?

The snarl faded minutely from the younger vampire's face, but his tone was
impatient. "For fucks sake," he muttered, before lunging upwards and pressing
his lips to Angel's. 

Angel froze in shock, then responded, relearning the taste and the feel of his
Childe, rediscovering what he'd thought he'd lost forever. Spike finally
ripped his mouth away, and Angel's eyes opened once more. He looked first at
the other vampire's glittering gaze, and then at Xander. He smiled at the
bemused expression on the brown-eyed man's face. "Just how awake are you?" he
asked, a small leer escaping him.

The other man grinned at him. "Very awake." A flush began to creep across
his face. "I'm just not up to anything...too strenuous."

Angel nodded. "Nothing strenuous," he promised. He leaned down once more and
kissed Xander again. He heard Spike's protest, and in retaliation, he allowed
his weight to fall completely upon the blond vampire, even as he deepened the
kiss he shared with the mortal. Ignoring his Childe's complaints, he ran his
hands over Xander's body, glad that someone had thought to pull Xander out of
his clothing before he went to bed.

A mighty heave from Spike pushed the tall vampire back to the other side of
the bed. The blond man glared at him, and Angel resigned himself to hearing
more possessive claims on Xander.

"What about me, Peaches?" Spike spread his arms invitingly.

Angel blinked, then grinned. He straddled his Childe, working away at both
their clothing. From the corner of his eye, he could see Xander stripping
Doyle, matching grins on their faces. He focused back on Spike, settling
himself down on top of the other vampire. Their first thrust against each
other brought back a rush of memories. Angel ignored the darkness in them,
not wanting to destroy this moment with guilt. He focused on the pleasure, on
what he remembered of how to make Spike moan and writhe beneath him.

He was distracted by the crash of bodies against himself and Spike. He looked
over at Xander, who had rolled Doyle beneath him, driving both of them into
the vampires. Xander stared unrepentantly back at him, before tilting his
head and kissing Angel hard, not losing his rhythm of thrusting against the
half-demon against him.

When Xander finally released his mouth, Angel looked down at Spike. His
Childe's gaze was locked with Doyle's. The two men made no move to touch,
beyond the point where their shoulders rubbed together, but nor did they try
to get away, to separate.

Angel glanced over at Xander, who grinned and winked at him. Angel laughed
out loud. It looked like there might be hope for the other two, as well.

Spike looked up at him when he laughed, and Angel immediately focused on the
blond man once more. Knowing that Xander wouldn't last long, he drove himself
and Spike mercilessly, not wanting to outlast the mortal, wanting to finish
with Xander and Doyle and share in their afterglow as well.

Faster, harder...Angel bent his head down and mouthed Spike's neck, wanting to
do more, but not sure if he could. He couldn't, wouldn't, just take. Not
anymore. Fortunately, Spike tilted his head back with a strangled moan,
offering up his neck, offering up his surrender.

Groaning deep in his chest, he bit into the pale flesh, the shock of cold skin
and warm blood flooding through him. This, this he had missed; he couldn't
believe he'd never realized how much until this moment that he had it back.

Orgasm slammed into him, and he bit down harder, tearing completion from Spike
as well. Angel collapsed on top of the other vampire, winded by the force and
power of it. Beside him, he heard Xander's cry, and Doyle's soft gasp as they
came against each other.

Feeling incredibly relaxed, content, Angel rolled off of Spike, freeing the
blond so he could grab Xander and pull him close once more. The dark-haired
vampire watched with interest as the other vampire devoured the mortal's
mouth, reestablishing a connection to him.

Angel looked up, catching Doyle's amused, aroused gaze. He knew it was time
to get up, to get moving, but he wasn't sure they'd ever be able to get the
other two out of bed.

Watching them, he wasn't so sure he was all that eager to get out of bed,
either. With a rueful grin, he realized that this was going to be a major
test of his resolve. 

He just didn't know if he wanted to pass.

*****

Part Twenty-Two

Doyle craned his neck as he twisted in the passenger seat, glancing back at
the trunk of the car. "Are you sure he's all right back there?"

"Do you see any flames shooting out of the trunk?" Xander kept his eyes on
the road as he drove.

"No..."

"Then he's fine." The brown-eyed man grinned and glanced over at Doyle. 
"Don't worry about him. He's wrapped up in a blanket, and Angel's already
made sure his trunk is light proof. Trust me, it's safest for all of us this
way. There's no way he could ride inside the car with us, and if it was dark,
he'd insist on driving. I don't remember much about the ride to LA, but I
remember enough to know not to let him anywhere near the wheel."

The half-demon relaxed into his seat. If Xander wasn't going to worry, then
neither was he. He was just going to relax and enjoy the ride, and the
company. He'd been worried about making this trip to Sunnydale. He knew that
Spike would be going back with Xander - he couldn't imagine the blond man
allowing Xander to get that far away from him voluntarily. The vampire had
protested long and hard about having to ride in the trunk, but Xander was
determined to move to LA as soon as possible, and that meant leaving during
the day.

He'd been surprised by the brown-eyed man's request that he also come. Angel
had wanted to come, too, but Xander had refused to let him. 

**********

"Sunnydale is dangerous," Angel said, almost imploringly. "I want you to make
it back here safely."

"I will," Xander promised, moving to stand directly in front of the tall
vampire. "But we both know things will be easier if you stay here. I'm going
to have to say good-bye to them. You know this."

"You're worried about Buffy."

"Mostly, yeah," Xander admitted. "This is going to hurt her."

"Good," interjected Spike.

The human glared at him, but otherwise ignored him. "I'd rather give her some
time to adjust to the idea. You and me is going to be hard enough to explain.
She'll be less hurt if it seems to happen after I've been in LA for a while."
He moved even closer. "Spike and Doyle will be with me, and we'll be back
sometime tonight."

Angel nodded tightly, then reached out and pulled the man before him into his
arms. They shared a fevered kiss, lasting long moments. Finally, Angel drew
away. "You'll be back tonight?"

"Late tonight, but tonight, yeah." Xander smiled. "You won't even have time
to miss us."

Angel's eyes denied that, but he said good-bye to them all, and let them leave
without him.

**********

The Irishman could understand the logic of leaving Angel behind. Things were
going to be hard enough for Xander, what with moving out of his house and
saying good-bye to his friends. Adding in revealing his relationship with one
of his friends' ex-boyfriend would be pushing things too far. He was glad
that Xander had asked him to come, though. He wanted to see Sunnydale; he
thought it might help him come to understand both Xander and Angel a little
more.

Plus, being asked meant that he didn't have to follow Xander on his own. He
knew Spike wouldn't let anything demonic hurt the dark-haired man, but Doyle
wanted to be there, just in case something human, like his parents or his
friends, gave him trouble. He'd never met either, but from the stories he'd
heard, he was ready for the worst.

The time flew by; Doyle put his chance to good use, and talked to Xander,
learning as much as he could about the other man. His attraction to him had
only deepened, grown more intense, as time passed. He felt like he could
never know enough about him, never make up for the time he'd lost when he
didn't know him. 

All too soon, the turn-off for Sunnydale appeared, and Xander took it. Doyle
stared out the window, taking in the sights as the sun began to set. There
wasn't anything especially hellmouthy about the town - it looked just like
every other SoCal town he'd been in. OK, so the alleys were a little darker,
the bad vibes a little stronger. It didn't reek of evil, like he'd imagined
it would. 

Xander guided the black convertible through town, until he came to
middle-class neighborhood. He stopped the car at the end of the street, and
glanced over at Doyle. "Um, I li...my parents live a few houses down. I'm
going to park here...it's just safer."

The half-demon nodded. "Whatever you want. I'm good for carrying things a
bit of a ways." He took this as proof that Spike's accusations against
Xander's parents were real.

"I don't have that much," Xander shrugged. He got out of the car, and waited
for Doyle to follow. He led him to a house that revealed a distinct lack of
upkeep: weed-choked yard, peeling paint, hanging shutters. The brown-eyed
man paused by the mailbox and reached inside. He pulled a single key out of
it. Shaking his head, he laughed bitterly and led Doyle around to the back of
the house.

"I don't think they noticed I was gone," he said quietly as he unlocked a
door. "All my stuff is here in the basement. I don't think anyone's home,
but let's be quiet, all right? I'd rather not have a run in with them."

The green-eyed man nodded. "Whatever you say." He followed Xander into the
small basement, appalled by the thought of the younger man living in such a
dark place. Of course, Angel's apartment wasn't exactly filled with light,
but it felt better than this place did. He needed to get the other man away
from here as soon as possible.

Xander was right: he really didn't have all that much stuff to move. He
watched as Xander pulled out a few bags from his closet, and began to toss
clothes into them. Doyle winced at the sight of some of the shirts
disappearing into the bags; he knew he wasn't exactly a fashion plate, but
some of those clothes had to go. Xander wore his clothing in too baggy a
style, anyway. He needed something a little more fitted, shirts and pants
that would reveal the muscled body, rather than hiding it away.

Doyle shook himself as he realized he was slipping into a fantasy of dressing
Xander in new clothes. He'd definitely been spending too much time with
Cordy.

He helped Xander pack up clothing, and then turned to his shelves. "No
stereo?" he asked as he placed a small collection of CDs into one of the
bags.

"Not any more, apparently. I had one when I left. The TV and VCR are gone,
too. They must have needed to pay off a bar tab." Xander didn't seem upset;
he was more resigned than anything else.

That was fine; Doyle was angry enough for both of them. What kind of parents
stole their kid's things? 

The kind that didn't get to see him anymore. He packed faster than ever. Two
trips to the car later, he was fairly certain that they'd managed to get
everything that Xander wanted to keep. "Anything else?" he asked.

"No, I think we're fin-" There was a muted bang from up above them, and
Xander's words cut off immediately. "Someone's home," he whispered, almost
inaudibly.

Doyle didn't miss the automatic hunching of his shoulders, or the utter
stillness that fell over him. He reached out for him, and found himself
pulled into a tight embrace. "Let's get out of here," the half-demon
whispered into his lover's ear. "We'll make Angel buy you anything else you
need." He kissed Xander's ear, his temple, and then both his eyes.

The young man nodded, then placed a fast, hard kiss on Doyle's lips. "Just be
quiet on the way out," he warned. "They can move pretty fast, even when
they're drunk." He led the Irishman out of the basement, pausing only to toss
his key back onto the bed on his way out. Together, they walked over to the
car.

Once they reached it, Doyle noticed the tremors running up Xander's arms. He
grabbed the last bag out of the other man's hands and tossed it next to the
pile of the rest of his things. "Are you all right?"

Xander nodded jerkily, then attempted a grin that came out crooked. "I'm not
sure, actually. But I know I'm glad I'm not going to have to ever go back."

"Never," Doyle swore, stepping closer to him. Before he could do anything
more, he was distracted by the sound of pounding coming from the trunk. 
Muffled curse words leaked through the metal. 

"I know you can hear me, you bastards. Let me out of here!"

The half-demon sighed. Spike had woken up. A glance at the sky proved that
night had truly fallen, so there was no legitimate reason for leaving him in
the trunk. It looked like his private Xander-time was over.

Oh, well. They needed the trunk space for Xander's things, anyway.

He watched the younger man open the trunk. Spike leapt out as soon as there
was room enough. He stretched for a moment, complaining all the while. 
"Nobody makes a trunk big enough for a person to curl up in, anymore. After a
few hours, they're all torture. And what the hell took you so long? I was
beginning to think I'd have to claw my way out, and I don't want to imagine
the whining Peaches would do if I damaged his car. You should see the way he
carried on when I'd get careless with his clothes!"

The vampire abruptly seemed to realize where they were. His gaze swept over
the pile of baggage beside the car. In an instant, he was beside Xander, his
hands running restlessly over the other man's body. "Are you all right? Did
you get everything? Were they there? Did they-?"

Xander placed his hands over the blond man's mouth, cutting off the flow of
words. "We got everything. I'm find. We never even saw them." He had no
opportunity to say more, because the vampire's mouth was covering his in a
hungry kiss.

Doyle was mildly surprised to feel no jealousy. Sure, he'd like to be kissing
Xander, but he'd have his chance. It was a little hard to get upset with
Spike when the vampire was so obviously concerned for Xander. 

Besides, it wasn't as though the sight of the two men together was hard on the
eyes.

The half-demon began to stow Xander's bags in the trunk. By the time he had
finished, Spike seemed to be reassured that the brown-eyed man was completely
unharmed, and Xander was far steadier, if a little flushed. "So, where to
next?" he asked, even though he knew the answer.

"Giles's house." Xander's voice was sad, but his gaze was steady. "I need to
say good-bye."

******

Part Twenty-Three

Spike peered down through the railing on the second story of Giles's house,
hunching down into a squat so he could have a clear view of the living room
downstairs. Beside him, Doyle did the same. So far, nothing down there
interested him. The Slayer and the witch were flipping through magazines,
while the Watcher and the witch's girlfriend were going over some manuscript
together. He wasn't allowed to kill any of them, so he stayed quiet and
waited.

Xander had parked the car a block away from the Watcher's house, worrying that
Buffy might recognize it, and that the whole situation could go from rotten to
completely unsalvegable in a matter of moments. He'd also ordered Spike and
the half-demon to stay by the car and wait for his return.

No chance of that happening. The vampire had been on his way over to the
Brit's house as soon as Xander was out of sight, and Doyle had been right on
his heels. Running through back yards, they made it there before the mortal
did. Once there, Spike had hesitated on how to monitor the situation without
Xander catching wise to his presence.

Doyle had solved the problem for him. Surveying the small house briefly, he
had shimmied up a tree, and then jimmied open one of the second floor windows.
Seconds later, he was inside, smooth and silent as any professional Spike had
ever seen. Wearing an appreciative grin, the blond man followed his example,
joining him inside the house. Then it was his turn to show Doyle where to go
to be order to see.

Spike cast a sidelong glance at the half-demon. That had been a nice bit of
breaking and entering, there. Obviously, Doyle's past was a little more murky
then he'd been led to believe, probably more than Angel knew, as well. Add
that in to the other man's obvious caring for Xander, and Spike might just be
able to live with his presence in his lover's life. 

If nothing else, the other man could help him shake up his Sire whenever the
other vampire got complacent.

Spike's attention instantly focused back on the scene downstairs when the
doorbell rang. Xander. He watched as Giles rose and crossed the room, and
answered the door. A few moments later, and Xander was standing in the middle
of the living room.

"Hey, guys." The dark-haired man gave his friends a nervous little wave as he
shifted from one foot to the other. Spike wanted to go down there and take
him out of the house, save him from having to put himself through this. 

The vampire stayed where he was. This was something Xander wanted to do,
alone. But if any of those humans down there made a false move....From the
corner of his eye, he could see Doyle tensing, getting ready to move if
necessary.

"Xander!" Willow exclaimed, looking up from her magazine. "Are you feeling
better? No more worrying by proxy?" 

A small smile staged a valiant effort to cross Xander's face, and made it. 
Barely. "Yeah, I'm doing a little better." He paused, chewing on his lower
lip for a moment.

Spike licked his own in sympathy.

"Guys?" The nervousness was stronger in Xander's voice, but so was the
determination. "There's something I need to talk to you about. It's
important."

Buffy looked up from her magazine. "Oncoming apocalypse important?" There
was a small grin on her face.

"Not exactly," Xander said, returning the grin. "More...me leaving Sunnydale
important."

"Another road trip?" Giles asked in the sudden silence that descended.

"No. More permanent. I'm moving to LA."

"What?" Willow dropped her magazine. "I don't understand."

"What's going on, Xander? All of a sudden, you have the urge to move to the
big city?" Buffy shook her head, frowning.

"It's not the city. It's someone living there." He shrugged a little
uncomfortably. "I'm so close to being in love that I can't tell the
difference anymore. I can't stay here, and not be with them."

Spike swallowed hard. Someone living in LA? Xander was in love with Angel? 
He fought down the killing rage inside him, waiting to see what else the human
had to say.

"Xander, this is all rather sudden," Giles interposed.

"I know it seems that way, but I know what I'm doing. I've known them for a
while, and this has been building. It all just kind of came out in the past
few days. They love me, too, and I don't want to miss out on a chance to be
with them. They're going to be in LA, so I am, too."

Spike caught on to the use of 'them'. So it wasn't just Angel; it was all
three of them. He felt Doyle relax beside him, and realized that the
half-demon had shared his fears. With a start, he realized he was beginning
to like the half-breed. Damn it.

Willow shook her head. "You can't go, Xander. We need you."

"No, you don't," he said gently. "You guys haven't needed me for a long time
now. I'm going to miss you like crazy, all of you, but I have to do this. I
*am* doing this. I just wanted to say good-bye."

"You mean you're leaving now?" The red-haired woman's voice cracked.

"Will, I'm not going far. LA's right down the freeway." He quickly crossed
the room and knelt beside her, catching her in a hug. "I'll call you as soon
as I have a number for where I am. We'll still see each other, and I'll
always be here for when you do need me. It's just...this is what I have to do
now." He stared at her seriously. "For the first time, my heart's telling me
where to go. I have to listen."

She nodded slowly. "I kinda understand. But you better call, you hear me? 
If you don't, I'll figure out some sort of vengeance spell that will make Anya
look like a cute fuzzy bunny."

He laughed. "I got it, Willow. I'll call." He looked over at the Slayer. 
"Buff?"

"I don't understand it, either," she admitted. She stood up and began to
pace. "I mean, you've fallen in love and you're moving to LA, and this is the
first you're telling us any of it? I need to know more. I need to know who. 
I need to know how." A knock sounded. "I need to answer the door." She
walked over to the door and opened it.

Spike suppressed a groan as the Slayer's boyfriend walked in. It was too much
to hope that the commando had forgotten about his last encounter with Xander,
wasn't it?

Oh yeah. Riley stopped dead as soon as he saw Xander. "Xander, hey." He
began to blush furiously. "Are you, um, feeling better?"

Xander grinned at the other man's discomfort. "Tons. Look, I'm sorry about
the other night. I wasn't exactly myself."

"Oh, no, I understand. Spike explained...sort of." Riley's fingers were
brushing across his lips, but the soldier seemed completely unaware of the
gesture.

"What are you talking about?" Buffy asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," Riley said hurriedly.

"It's nothing, Buff," Xander reassured her.

The Slayer glanced back and forth between the two men. "Oh, I get it."

"Get what?" asked the dark-haired man.

"Why you're leaving. You've got some friend in LA you're going to crash with,
right? You're going there to hide-out because you're worried that Riley will
tell me!"

"Tell you what? There's nothing to tell!" Riley blurted.

"You don't have to cover for him," Buffy said. "I know that Xander's jealous
of you. What did he do - pick a fight with you? Did he hit you or something?
Now he's trying to cover his ass by running off to LA and waiting for this to
all blow over." She looked at Xander sadly. "I thought we were past this. I
know you're upset that Anya is gone, but this isn't the way to handle it."

Spike growled. She was about three words away from having him come down
there, chip or no chip. He could ignore the agony if it would give him the
chance to tear out her throat.

Giles moved to stand beside Xander. "Buffy, that's enough!" Spike agreed
with his words, but the Watcher was standing entirely too close to *his*
Xander. Judging by the mutters coming from beside him, Doyle agreed.

"No, Giles, it isn't. He's running away, and it's hurting Willow. He's
abandoning us, just because he can't deal with the fact that Willow and I have
someone, and he doesn't."

That was it. Time to go down there and earn his nickname all over again. 
Spike gathered himself to stand, but was pressed back down into a crouch by
Doyle. 

"Stay here," the half-demon hissed. "Meet us outside." With that, he was on
his way down the stairs.
Spike watched as he crossed the room, ignoring the Scooby Gang's surprise. 
Doyle reached Xander, and pulled him away from Giles. "That's enough," the
Irishman said firmly, his focus completely upon the man in front of him. "You
don't have to listen to that. You said good-bye. Let's go."

"Doyle, it's all right. I'm fine," Xander protested.

"I'm sure as hell not. Can we get out of here for my sake, then?"

"Who the hell are you?" asked Buffy.

"Me? I'm gone - and so is Xander."

"No, he's not. Neither of you are, until I get some answers." She stepped
forward.

"You want answers? I'll give you answers." The nasty edge to Doyle's voice
impressed Spike. "Here's one: what happened a few nights ago was Xander
almost died. None of you noticed he was in any trouble. None of you gave a
damn that you hadn't seen or heard from him in days. You live on the
Hellmouth, and it still didn't faze you." He stared at Buffy and the others
with obvious contempt. "None of you realize what you have in Xander. None of
you deserve him." He turned to face Xander again. "Please? Can we go?"

Xander nodded shakily, then glanced over at Willow. "I'll be in touch."

"Is it true?" she asked. "Did you almost die?"

Xander hesitated, and glanced over at Giles. "Yeah. It was a near thing. 
Closer than ever before, actually, but it's over now. I'll tell you about it
later." He grabbed Doyle's hand. "I want to get back home." He led the
half-demon over to the door, then paused and looked back at his friends. 
"I'll be in touch."

"You can't just leave," Buffy objected. 
"Yeah, I can, Buff. I'm tired. Tired of being left behind, tired of being a
hanger-on. I'm tired of not being needed." He shrugged. "I'll call. We can
do this later. I really just want to go home." With that, he and Doyle were
out the door.

Spike was tempted to go downstairs and add to the misery down there, but the
urge to be with Xander was too strong. He left the same way he had entered,
and ran back to the car.

There, he found Xander wrapped tightly in Doyle's arms. The mortal was
breathing deeply, obviously trying to hold back tears. The half-demon was
swaying gently back and forth, whispering soothing words into the dark hair
beneath his lips.

Green eyes met blue, and Spike nodded in approval at the sight of the rage and
contempt that filled them. Good. Doyle had his priorities straight: first
Xander, then everything else, including the good guys fighting the good fight.


The half-demon kissed Xander several time, slow, soft caress that weren't
meant to entice, but rather comfort. "Time to head home, eh?" Once the man
in his arms nodded, the Irishman said, "So why don't you get into the car. 
The backseat, and Spike can ride with you. From what you said, there's no way
I'm going to let him drive, so you keep him distracted for me."

A weak smile crossed the brown-eyed man's face. "Anything. If riding him was
that frightening when I was out of my head, imagine how bad it would be now."

"Hey," Spike objected, but it was out of principle. He was going to get to
spend some quality time with his Xander. So what if someone else was driving?
He followed Xander into the car.

As soon as he was seated, he pulled Xander into his arms. The mortal resisted
for a moment, then relaxed and sank into the embrace with a grateful sigh. 
"You saw?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," the vampire answered. "If you want Doyle to turn the car around so we
can go back and kill them, just say the word."

"No!" Xander protested. "I don't want that. They're my friends - how else
were they supposed to react? I just throw the news that I'm in love and that
I'm leaving at them; what else should I have expected?"

"Some support, maybe?" Spike inhaled the scent of his lover, using it to keep
himself calm. No point in upsetting Xander further. "They could've tried to
understand, but they didn't give you a chance. And you don't owe them
anything, not after they never noticed you were gone. A few days without
talking to someone on the Hellmouth is damn near criminal." It was. Even if
Xander hadn't been in LA, what else could've happened to him while his friends
were too busy with their own lives to take notice of him?

Xander burrowed closer to Spike. "I don't want to talk about it anymore. I
just want to go home." He might not want to talk about it, but he was still
thinking on it - the vampire could smell the salt of barely suppressed tears,
and feel the elevated heartrate in the chest so close to his own.

Spike didn't say anything more; he just held Xander closer, kissing him gently
from time to time, offering comfort in the only way he knew how - through
physical contact. It worked, because the brown-eyed man's breathing soon
evened out, until he was dozing in Spike's arms, murmuring contentedly from
time to time as the vampire continued to pet him.

The blond man looked up briefly, and met Doyle's eyes in the rearview mirror. 
The half-demon nodded solemnly, approvingly. Spike returned the nod, before
focusing all his attention once more on Xander. They were going home. 

Somehow, the fact that home included Angel and Doyle didn't upset him as much
anymore. There had always been something unfinished between himself and his
Sire, something that he now wanted to pursue. And the Irishman was definitely
showing signs of having definite possibilities.

Besides, they made Xander happy.

***** 

Part Twenty-Four

Xander murmured contentedly as he began to wake up, arching up slightly into
the hands that were stroking over his back. He was more asleep than awake,
but the hands were insistent. Besides, he really didn't want to resist them,
anyway.

Slowly drifting up out of the depths of sleep, he experienced one of the new
pleasures he had found in life, one that was intensely personal, one that he
hadn't shared with anyone.

He woke up gladly, without feeling weighed down by the usual dread and
resignation that used to greet him every morning.

It was so small a thing, but it reminded him all over again how much his life
had changed. The hands on his back were a large part of that. Finally
finding a place where he was needed and wanted and loved had changed his life,
changed the way he viewed the world and himself.

The hands were more insistent, trying to persuade him to wake up faster. As
much as he wanted to heed their call, he still resisted waking up, just a
little; it had been a long night, although not an unusual one. Evil. 
Havoc-wreaking demons. Copious amounts of slime. Celebration.

It was the celebrating that had really worn Xander out. Angel, Doyle, and
Spike were all overprotective of him; none of them were willing to risk him
being hurt if they could help it. As much as it irritated him, Xander saw
their actions for what they were: demonstrations of how very much the three
men cared about him, how very important he was to them.

The hands gave up on waiting, and pushed him over onto his back. Before he
could open his eyes, a mouth covered his, tongue probing deeply and twining
playfully around his. Raising arms still heavy with sleep, Xander sank his
fingers into his lover's hair and responded with growing enthusiasm. 

The faint taste of whisky, slight traces of stubble against his own, warmth. 
Pulling back, Xander murmured, "Doyle," and opened his eyes.

The half-demon stared down at him. "Finally," he teased, gaze soft with love.
"I was beginning to think I'd have to do something drastic to wake you up." 
He settled himself down on top of Xander, and bent back down to continue the
kiss.

The brown-eyed man tried to pull him even closer. He could never get enough
of this, of Doyle, of any of them. It was intoxicating, to know that he could
reach out and touch whenever he liked, whenever he needed. Even more heady,
he knew that his touch was craved, his every caress desired and returned with
the same love with which he gave.

The kisses gained in intensity, and soon Xander was thrusting up against the
dark-haired man, the delicious friction wringing appreciative moans from him. 
His hands roamed eagerly over the skin so close to his, sparing a brief moment
to be thankful that they'd all given up on wearing pyjamas.

Especially since he'd seen the sort Angel owned.

Cool hands intruded on the heat he and Doyle were building between themselves,
pulling the half-demon up, rolling Xander over on to his side. The brown-eyed
man opened his eyes and glared at the two vampires staring down at them. 
"Hey," he objected. "I'm in the middle of something, here." Inwardly, he was
filled with anticipation, and relief that it was Cordy's day off.

"No, you aren't," Spike corrected, his hands sliding down Doyle's shoulders. 
"There were just two of you. You need at least three people in order to be in
the middle of something."

Angel nodded his agreement. "At *least* three." He looked at the two men on
the bed. "You two need to learn to share."

"And who's going to teach us?" Doyle challenged. "You?"

"And me," Spike countered, turning the Irishman even further and kissing him
wetly.

Xander watched, licking his own lips. Spike and Doyle had been getting closer
as weeks passed, and it looked as though they were through dancing around each
other. The dark-haired man was glad. He had watched as Spike and Angel
gradually came to some sort of understanding between themselves, that was
separate from their relationship with him, and he had seen Angel and Doyle do
the same. 

He didn't feel any jealousy. He'd never wanted to be the single common link
that held the other three men together; he didn't need that guilt, knowing
that they didn't want to be together, that they only did what they did for
him. Now that he could see that he wasn't the only tie existing among them,
he felt more confident about the strange relationship they were all in, and
really believed that it would last.

Cool lips brushed his ear. "Do you just want to watch?" Angel asked as he
slid behind Xander and pulled him back against his chest.

"Watching's fun. Playing's better," Xander answered, tilting his head back to
nuzzle at the pale length of neck. Strong hands spun him around, and he was
pressed back into the mattress as Angel climbed on top of him.

"But I - oh God, do that again - I wanted to play - ooh- with Doyle." He
managed to gasp out a protest as Angel licked his way down his chest.

"Doyle's busy right now," Angel shot back, before nibbling at Xander's navel.

The brown-eyed man looked over at the two men beside him, and his eyes
widened. Oh yeah. Doyle was very busy. Judging by the sounds he was making,
he was very happy, too.

Xander snapped his attention back to Angel. He tugged at the vampire, pulling
and persuading him to come back up and face him. With a grin, he managed to
roll them over, so he was on top of the taller man. Of course, his little
maneuver also rolled them over into in the other two men. "Oops," he
muttered, completely unrepentant.

Spike glared over at him. "Watch it," he mock-growled from on top of Doyle.

Xander ignored, him, leaning down to kiss Angel thoroughly. With a wicked
grin, he leaned over and pushed past Spike, claiming a kiss from Doyle as
well. He then focused back on Angel, completely ignoring the blond vampire.

Chuckling his approval, Angel began to thrust up against Xander. The
dark-haired man began to lose himself in the sensations once more, enjoying
the feel of skin on skin, the way the fire was rising in him again as he moved
forward toward orgasm.

His journey was interrupted by cold hands clamping on his shoulders and
shoving him until he was lying on his back, pinned to the mattress once more. 
Above him, Spike shook his head. "Tsk, tsk, love. You should know better
than to tease."

Xander cast an appealing glance toward his other lovers. Doyle shook his head
ruefully from his perch on top of Angel. "You really should know better," he
chided. Beneath him, Angel nodded before pulling Doyle down for a kiss.

The brown-eyed man tried to smile up at Spike. "I can explain."

"It'll be hard to do that, with your mouth full, and all."

Xander frowned in puzzlement, until Spike manhandled him around for a moment. 
The vampire leaned back against the head of the bed, holding Xander in front
of him. One eyebrow raised, he glanced down at his erection, and then back to
Xander.

Mouth full. Right. A thought occurred to him, and Xander ducked his head,
moving forward quickly to hide his grin. He hadn't mentioned his talk with
Angel to Spike yet - the one in which the older vampire filled him in on a few
ways to push Spike's buttons that the blond man wasn't expecting.

Bracing himself with his hands on Spike's thighs, he licked delicately at the
hard flesh awaiting his attention. Hearing the vampire's appreciative groan,
Xander scooted closer, and began to apply the advice Angel had given him.

Apparently, he'd paid attention well when the tall man had been talking: 
after a few minutes, Spike grabbed him and once again pinned him to the
mattress. Xander stared in fascination at the brutally ridged face staring
down at him, amazed as always that it took so little for the vampire to loose
all control around him.

A cold tongue plunged into his mouth, thrusting in and out with desperate
intensity, even as slick fingers probed at him, stretching carefully despite
their haste. And then Spike was pressing into him with exquisite, torturous
slowness.

Xander wrapped his legs around his lover's waist, pulling him closer, impaling
himself on the cold length of flesh within him. He gasped out his pleasure,
incoherent words spilling from his lips until his mouth was captured once more
in a fevered kiss. Cool fingers locked around his heated length, pumping in
time with the ever-quickening thrusts.

The brown-eyed man could hear rising moans coming from the men beside him. He
glanced over, and watched as Doyle sank slowly into Angel. The sight and
sound was nearly enough to push him over the edge. Nearly. He needed
something more. That in mind, he bit down on Spike's lower lip.

The vampire drew back slightly, yellow gaze darkening with increasing lust. 
"You sure?" he panted, not slowing his thrusts a whit.

In answer, Xander let his head loll back onto the pillow, exposing his throat
fully, even as his hands drew Spike's head down.

That was all the invitation that the vampire needed. With a muffled cry, he
buried his teeth in Xander's shoulder, sharp fangs slicing through skin,
summoning the thick blood that coursed beneath.

Xander screamed as he came, the sensation finally too much for him. He felt
Spike shudder above him, and then relax to lay heavily on top of him. A cool
tongue ran over the bite in long, leisurely stokes, wet circles of soothing
pleasure. 

He exchanged slow kisses with his lover, until Spike pulled back with a
contended sigh. "Love you," the vampire murmured quietly, before burying his
face in Xander's neck, his tongue still creeping out to lave warm skin.

"Love you, too," Xander whispered, before turning to look at Angel and Doyle,
who were basking in their own post-orgasmic haze. "Love all of you."

Angel repeated his words back to him, the truth of them shining in his eyes. 
Doyle didn't reply verbally, but instead leaned over and kissed Xander,
letting his actions speak for him. As he pulled back, the half-demon caught
up one of the mortal's hands, and held it pressed between himself and Angel. 


The brown-eyed man relaxed back into the bed, eyes slowly slipping shut. It
was time to get up, but first he'd lie back and soak up the sensation of being
surrounded by love. It was like nothing he'd ever known before, and he didn't
want to miss a moment of it. Buoyed by love, he drifted in a haze of
contentment, finally at peace with his life, and with himself.

*****

The End