After showing them to their rooms, Angel made the mistake of asking if there was anything else that they needed. Xander immediately answered that food would be a good thing, and possibly some clothes so he could shower. Angel gave them directions to the hotel’s kitchen, and then disappeared into his room to find suitable clothing for his ... guests.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Xander was making himself a couple sandwiches while Spike tried to figure out how to work Angel’s ancient microwave in order to heat his blood. It was not going well.

"Bloody hell! The bleedin’ poof lives in a fuckin' hotel for Christ’s sake - you'd think he could buy a microwave than doesn't have a dial on it."

Xander chuckled and walked over to see what the problem was.

"Oh, I remember these. My grandparents had one, you have to turn this and then push that. See? 'Sides, I'm surprised Deadboy even has a microwave, I didn't think he could wrap that Cro-Magnon brain of his around the concept of modern technology."

Spike turned and studied the human who had, for lack of a more accurate description, saved him. He noticed that while he was open and friendly with him, he was downright rude and snarky to Angel. He figured it couldn't be just an 'all demons are bad' thing, otherwise the boy would have left him to Finn. He wondered what Angel had done to him.

"You really hate him don't you?"

"Who Angel? Yeah, I guess I do."

Xander was just finishing making his sandwiches and cleaning up after himself. Spike retrieved his blood from the microwave and walked over to join him.

"How come? I mean if you hate him, which you obviously do, how come you’re here?"

"It's complicated. Angel and I have never liked each other. Plus there is that whole ‘suck the world into hell’ thing. That place was horrible. God, I can still smell it, hear the sounds when I close my eyes. If I hadn't shifted out when I did..."

Xander shuddered as he once again felt the clawed hands on his skin, the slimy tongue tasting his skin. He noticed Spike looking at him oddly and shook it off.

"Anyway, in my world, he offered me to you as a snack on parent-teacher night. He was trying to fool you, or so he would have everyone believe. Personally, I think he'd have been happy if you had eaten me."

Spike couldn't help but grin at the image of his sire presenting him with this tasty young man as an entree. It never would have worked; Angelus would have turned the boy, not eaten him.

"That never happened here. I would remember something like that. So, you still didn't answer the question. Why are you here?"

"Better than there. I mean, at least here I know what to expect. Angel is a vampire; he has a soul, yada yada yada. There? Those people are not normal. They're nothing like the gang in my world. I think Riley and Giles had Dawn killed, and look at how they treated you. Okay so yeah, we chained you up in the bathtub until we were sure you couldn't hurt us, but we fed you and didn't... torture you."

Spike smirked at Xander and raised an eyebrow.

"Chained me in the tub? Well, better than having me fangs ripped out. Any other little bondage scenarios you'd care to share?"

"Uh, I ah ... tiedyoutomybarkaloungerwhenyoulivedwithmeinthebasement."

"You tied me to what?"

"A chair. In my basement. So you couldn't eat me in my sleep. It was stupid, but I was scared of you."

Spike puffed up a bit at that information. It had been a long time since anyone had admitted to being afraid of him. He could have wept for the sheer joy of it. Instead he smiled at Xander and then drained his mug. Xander watched the vampire feed with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. Whenever he'd seen his Spike feed, the vamp had gone into game face, this Spike didn't. It was weird seeing him drink blood while looking human.

"Hey, Spike? If we didn't meet on parent-teacher night, when was the first time you tried to kill me?"

"Well, there were a bunch of times. Let’s face it, hanging out with the slayer will make you a target. I think it was that time I kidnapped the witch; any other time, you just happened to be around when I went after the slayer - wasn't personal then."

Xander couldn't help but grin at the matter of fact statement. It was true; hanging out with Buffy did make him a target. But in the end, what he was doing - helping to save the world - was worth it. Spike rinsed his mug and headed for the door before turning back to Xander.

"So. You think the old poof has a telly?"

Angel had been listening to the conversation between the two in the kitchen. He began to understand this version of Xander a little better. In this reality, while he and Xander did have their problems, it was nothing like what the other Xander had just described. He had to wonder what his double was thinking trying to pass Xander off as food to Spike. Angelus would never have shared something as sweet-looking as Xander; he would have kept him around for weeks, breaking him in before turning him. His double must have been pretty dumb to think that even Spike wouldn't see through that plan.

He wondered what had possessed this version of Xander to help Spike, not that he didn't think he should have. He just wondered why. It wasn't as if they were friends - hell they didn't even know each other. Unless the Spike of his world was different than the one here, he couldn't see them being in the same room with out bickering and insulting each other.

He moved away from the door just in time to avoid being hit with it as Spike - followed by Xander - walked toward the back staircase and up to their rooms.

After a long hot shower, Xander was grateful to slide into the satin pyjama pants that had been left for him - even if they were Angel’s. He was extremely worn out from the running earlier that night. Take that, added to the stress of the past couple weeks and finding out that the people he should have been able to trust were monsters with his friends faces - it was no shock that he was falling asleep on his feet. He did feel sorry for Buffy; he was sure that she had no idea what had really happened to Dawn, even though she was taking Spike’s slavery in stride.

Spike had showered, dressed, and wandered downstairs to find a book or something to occupy himself with. Angel didn't have a television - big shock there - so he was bored. He was also trying not to think about where he should be where some part of him insisted he belonged - at his master’s side.

Spike snarled and punched the wall in frustration. He hated this, being neutered and de-fanged. Helpless to defend himself, forced to kill his own kind under the orders of what should be his food but was in reality his owner. He heard Angel come up behind him and spun around to face him.

Angel took one look at his childe’s demon face, gaps where his fangs should be, and almost wept. At his worst, Angelus had never taken William’s fangs. He had beaten him, fucked him raw, starved him and left him strung up in chains for days on end, but he had never done anything like this. Even Angel, soulboy and champion for the Powers, considered this to be wrong. It would have been more humane to stake Spike then to make him live like this.

"What do you want, Poof?"

Angel tore his gaze away from his childe’s face and lowered his eyes. He didn't want Spike to see the pity in his eyes; it would only enrage him further.

"I thought you might be restless. I wondered if you wanted to check out the training room maybe spar for a bit. I haven't had a good work-out partner in a long time."

Spike grinned at Angel. He was actually looking forward to this. It had been far too long since he'd fought against his sire, and it was a good way to relieve some of his stress.

"Sure Peaches, lead on."